You're not my best man till I see some sword work

Last night I was at a wedding (yay Mar and Tony!) rather drunkenly trying to explain this article I read on Mental Floss a couple of weeks ago.
It's about the weirdo (and violent and misogynistic and patriarchal and superstitious and frankly, gross) origins of modern wedding traditions.

They're pretty crazy so you have to describe them with authority to make people believe you, which I don't think I was. I got a lot of incredulous looks especially when I talking about throwing the bouquet and the garter belt. But lo and behold!!

It used to be that after the bride and groom said, “I do,” they were to go immediately into a nearby room and “close the deal” and consummate the marriage. Obviously, to really make it official, there would need to be witnesses, which basically led to hordes of wedding guests crowding around the bed, pushing and shoving to get a good view and hopefully to get their hands on a lucky piece of the bride’s dress as it was ripped from her body. Sometimes the greedy guests helped get the process going by grabbing at the bride’s dress as she walked by, hoping for a few threads of good fortune. In time, it seems, people realized that this was all a bit, well… creepy, and it was decided that for modesty’s sake the bride could toss her bouquet as a diversion as she made her getaway and the groom could simply remove an item of the bride’s undergarments and then toss it back outside to the waiting throngs to prove that he was about to, uh, get ‘er done.

So, yeah, believe it people!

Please!!! Be cautious about bringing this new knowledge up at weddings. Do not start this convo with any of the bridal party or close relatives, and no girls that you saw crying while the father of the bride walked her down the isle. That's a buzz kill.
You also have to be careful not to end up sounding like an early 90s women's studies major at a safe sex party dressed as a dental dam. Because while I'm more than aware that walking the bride down the isle is, 'just a tiny, barbaric little hold over from the days when daughters were nothing but dollar signs to daddy dearest.' You're no fun to party with if you say patriarcy too much.
These are lessons I've learned the hard way.