Wedding Season

Love is in the air and it's summer wedding season.  The love I'm referring to of course, my love for bad reality television.   Because the love ain't coming from these couple--they make Spears and Federline look like soul mates.   Introducing my new two new guilty pleasures: "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" and "Bridezillas"

"My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding":

I've always felt a special affinity for gypsies.  My Grandma claims her ancestors were Hungarian nobility, but logic suggests we were instead Romanian gypsies.  Logic such as the fact my Great Aunt and Uncle look like the woman who danced the dance of the seven veils and the camel driver who brought her there.  But these aren't my family's gypsies.   These are Irish travelers.  They are Europe's answer to the Jersey Shore bunch.   There are fake tans, big hair, absurd tacky dresses--and puritanical values.  Can you see why this is so addictive?  

  I was flipping through the TV and on TLC I saw a child in an ABSOLUTELY enormous pink, pouffy gown.   Of course, I thought this must have been a child pageant show, and since nothing pleases me like watching psychologically-scarring parenting tactics in action, I stopped flipping and started watching.   The resulting show was better than I could have possibly imagined.  It was like watching a seven car pile up on the interstate.   Apparently, the way Irish travelers celebrate important religious sacraments--such as weddings and first holy communions--is to wear 70-350 lb tulle and glitter monstrosities, which they call dresses and to exchange in otherwise ridiculous debauchery.  The announcer said if the sheer weight of the dress doesn't cause scaring, cuts, or blisters, the girls will consider their dress sub-par.  I watched, cackling in sheer delight while the girls desperately tried to maneuver through doorways, which was impossible due to the four feet of dress sticking out from her waist in every direction.   Also, traveler girls get married at age sixteen, drop out of school at eleven, and live in trailers.  Even though the girls dress like prostitutes, they cannot be seen alone in public, go on dates, or spend the night outside of the home before the night of their wedding.  It's like amish values and showgirl taste.  

Gypsy first communion...

Modest, Tasteful...

The top photo plus, fifteen, well, in this case, like 8 years.

Bridezillas:

Bridezillas isn't new.  But I don't know how I lived without it.   It isn't just bitchy brides, oh no, these woman are Ghet-To.   It's all kinds of trash, which is heartwarming in the sense that there really must be  someone for everyone.  And I mean, EVERYONE.  One of the brides is a self-professed "bro ho" and is throwing a charming theme wedding--aptly, "Bros and Bo-Hos".   I watched with sick glee as this delightful girl, literally held her fiance's balls in her fist  until he gave her his credit card.  You cannot write this stuff.

My friend Sam also told me of an EVEN better "Bridezilla"  episode, in which a KFC bucket was passed around at the Rehearsal Dinner for donations.   "This shit was expensive, ya'll better give us some money." That is only slightly upstaged by a Bridezilla's mother hitting on her own first cousin and then saying to the camera, "I totally wanna fuck my cousin."  Well, alrighty then.  Other highlights:  refusing to pay for the church, tears of frustration, demanding the bridemaids  lose weight, blowing smoke into the face of a child, and telling the groom he was "just an accessory".   Ah, young love.   

A proportionate response to wedding day stresses...

Meet Tricia, our bro ho fo sho.