I would go with something like this.
Ladies and gentleman you can tell if you look closely that my hands are absolutely shaking. (Pause for encouragement)
I think there is no better time to tell my new wife, ( look at her) it's not just fruit juice in that bottle all day, I am a chronic alcoholic, livers gone.
It all started with that first woman I married. Not much to look at, but what a ride. Her problem was, she was never happy unless she was putting me down. I started drinking heavily and having blackouts. Would find myself in skips, upside down in hedgerows without shoes. No Friday night would be complete without a fight outside a kebab shop.
I decided to leave her. I cleaned out the bank account, put in all the windows and set fire to her car.
I was at court from carrying out these acts, offences apparently, that I met that psycho woman from Hull, she was up on possession and solicitation charges and we hit it off.
I then slid into a seedy world of drugs, pimping and benefit fraud. Luckily she died in an abortive post office hold up that went wrong and the cops thinking her toy bazooka was real, opened fire and took her fucking head off. I was free.
I tried to get myself together and restricted my pimping and drug pushing to weekends. preferring to spend the weekdays in a constant alcoholic stuper.
That is until I met this one.
She gave me a reason to cut down to two bottles of gin a day and no smack. I still roam the red light district, but prefer a shag that doesn't require a course of antibiotics so, insert name' ticks all the boxes.
I'm the luckiest man alive. I'm sorry I waited to tell you my issues, but in a marriage there should be no secrets and in that vein, I want to admit that I fucked your sister last night, but I was that drunk, I didn't even cum.
Or was it that I loved you too much?
Ladies and and gentleman can you stand and toast my third time lucky bride. Eh, Rosey,......fuck wait, Helen.
To Helen!