That lady in the front making a “Fuck this shit, where’s the open bar?” face is all of us.
At the St. Rose of Lima Catholic church in East Hanover, NJ yesterday, history was made when an Ewok married a juicehead gorilla. It was a major event for interspecies marriage activists. 27-year-old Snooki married her 27-year-old two-time baby father Jionni LaValle in a Catholic church while wearing white. So that rumble you heard yesterday wasn’t only from your stomach continuing to die a slow death after being filled with Stove Top and gallons of the sweet nectar. That rumble was also the sound of a thousand Catholic abuelitas collapsing to the floor from the ESCANDALOSONESS of it all.
UsWeekly says that the Chilean Ewok’s bridesmaids party included elegant Thundercat JWoww and Danny DeVito impersonator Deena Cortese. Pauly D was also there, but who knows about the other Jersey Shore messes. UsWeekly also says that Snooki wore two gowns, one of which looked like something straight out of Say Fuck No To The Dress. It’s a bridal nightmare that made her look like an Ewok mermaid drowning in a swamp of merengue.
Snooki and Jionni’s reception went down at the Venetian in Garfield, NJ and it was a Great Gatsby theme. I wonder how many times Snooki screamed, “No, you fricken moron, Great Gatsby is that Leonardo DiCaprio movie! It’s not a book!” after someone said to her, “Oh, I didn’t know you were a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s book.” I know, nobody said that to her. We all know she can’t read.
But seriously, who knew that Snooki would turn out to be the normal, stable and semi-sane one from Jersey Shore. It seemed like it was just yesterday when she was pissing on the floor of a bar. Now she’s all grown up and marrying her future ex-husband in front of MTV’s cameras (Snooki can’t take a shit without them, so I’m guessing they were there). Fame whores usually never grow up, so it’s shocking when one does.
And since you can never have too much grace and sophistication in one post, here’s what Snooki’s bridal heels looked like:
There’s really something poetic about Snooki getting married in shoes that look like bedazzled mold.
Father Of The Decade Michael Lohan Got Married To Kate Major And Forgot To Invite Lindsay Lohan And Michael Jr.
After several dramatic messy drunken fight-filled years together, talking butt zit Michael Lohan finally made it legal with Smurfette’s trashy second cousin Kate Major in – where else – the great state of Florida. TMZ says that Michael and his knocked-up bride tied the knot on a beach on October 30th in a private ceremony.
So private, in fact, that the only one of Michael’s six offspring to be invited was Baby Landon (seen above pointing to the new family he’d like to adopted by so he can escape those two human disasters). That’s right! Michael didn’t invite the sole reason he’s still clinging to the ass hairs of relevancy, Lindsay Lohan, or his aspiring app mogul son Michael Jr. He also forgot to invite haunted-looking living ghost Ali, Cody Lohan, or his whoopsie baby Ashley Kaufmann.
TMZ says that the Apricot Ashtray eventually found out that her deadbeat dad got hitched, but she didn’t care. Probably because she knows this is only the first of many weddings. Hell, we all know that it’s only a matter of time before Michael and Kate get into a violent booze-fueled fist fight that ends with Michael calling TMZ and Kate filing for divorce. Then once whichever one of them winds up in jail is released, they’ll speed-dial TMZ to announce that they’re getting remarried. It’s the ciiiiiircle of traaaaash.
And just because I love a good pair of thick acrylic porn star blow job nail tips, here’s Michael’s future second ex-wife showing off her new hardware:
Take a good look, pawn shops of Florida! You’re going to want to have an estimate on hand for when that busted blonde muppet eventually tries to sell it for margarita money.
I see that shifty trick Shadyoncé already cut Solange’s allowance, because she and her new husband had to ride their spray painted yard sale bikes to their reception in the storage room at Krystal burgers instead of taking a limo. Beyonce ruins everything!
As expected, the mice are screeching out celebratory shrieks of YAYs in the basement today, because their 28-year-old queen Basement Baby married her 51-year-old video director boyfriend Alan Ferguson in New Orleans. Also as expected, it was a great big hipster affair complete with white bikes, which they both rode to their wedding venue. People says that Solange and Alan got married at Marigny Opera House in front of around 200 people including Janelle Monae, Solange’s son Julez, Beyonce, Jay-Z and Greta Gremlin’s twin sister Tina Knowles. Matthew Knowles would’ve shown up, but I doubt he was invited and he was probably busy barebacking a baby into another trick.
Some source tells People that Basement Baby and Alan looked calm and happy, which means they were stoned as fuck.
“Beaming. Calm. They looked pretty calm, relaxed on their wedding day,” one onlooker tells PEOPLE. “Definitely happy.”
No, Basement Baby’s caped jumpsuit didn’t come from Elvis’ Viva La Bride bridal collection. Stéphane Rolland made that chichis baring caped suit. I love their wedding look, because Solange is wearing some shit that Bianca Jagger would’ve worn if she was a superhero and her man looks like Common’s traveling preacher older brother. The Daily Mail has pictures of the Quilted Northern dress Beyonce wore if you care about that.
And for Jay-Z’s sake, I hope he wore some cut resistant gloves to the wedding reception, because you know Solange put some razors in her fro just in case she has to come at him again for looking at her funny.
Wow, that was fast! Literally one week after they announced their engagement, Skeletor (aka Marc Anthony aka The Cryptkeeper’s sexy illegitimate son) and his on-again off-again model girlfriend Shannon de Lima got married. Listen, I’m all for a bitch getting money, but at least take a moment to stretch first! Gold digging is a high-impact activity and you don’t want to pull a muscle!
According to People, 46-year-old Skeletor and 26-year-old Shannon tied the knot on Tuesday in front of friends and family at
Snake Mountain at his home in the Dominican Republic. No word on whether or not the ceremony was officiated by Beast Man (I heard he’s an ordained minister of the Universal Church of Eternia).
Unless you’re a 90s-era Guns N’ Roses ran, it probably seems weird to have a wedding in the middle of November. And I’m sure Skeletor would have gotten hitched in the summer like every other wedding type, but he had to take care of his other two marriages first. Both Skeletor’s messy child support money fight with his first wife Dayanara Torres and his divorce from Jennifer Lopez were finalized in June. Like someone’s folksy memaw probably used to say: you gotta clean up one mess before you make another!
I think Shannon is a great match for Skeletor, and it’s not just because she’s clearly brave enough to have sex with a terrifying skeleton-faced man. It’s because Skeletor always looks like tired farted on exhausted, and she’s the perfect height for him to rest his head on her Tempur-Pedic titty balls and take a nap. Shannon, get money bitch! Skeletor, get some Zzzzzs.
When 62-year-old tall drink of hot grandpa Jeff Goldblum got engaged to his 31-year-old aerialist/contortionist/actress (aka the most L.A. job title of all-time) girlfriend of 3 years Emilie Livingston last July, hos who have always been hard up for his hot fly dick dribbled out a little tear. Well, those tears are dribbling out again, because Jeff and Emilie (who kind of looks like the love child of a brown-headed Lisa Kudrow and a serene ostrich) got married in L.A. over the weekend.
UsWeekly says that Jeff made Emilie his third wife at the Chateau Marmont on Saturday night. Yeah, at the Chateau Marmont. Bitches are full L.A. If only they got married 2 years ago, Emilie could’ve been serenaded down the aisle by the sound of Lindsay Lohan screaming at her dealer for ripping her off or screaming at James Franco to let her in his room. But anyway, Emilie and Jeff’s guests weren’t serenaded by LiLo’s whiny screams, but UsWeekly says that he played piano for all of them.
“It was a night filled with love, music, and lots of laughs,” the insider says of the wedding, adding that Goldblum played piano and sang for his wife during the reception.
Jeff Goldbum was married to actress Patricia Gaul from 1980 to 1986 and a year after their divorce, he made it legal with Geena Davis. Their marriage died 3 years later in 1990.
Some might be throwing looks of cold judgement at Jeff Goldblum because he’s probably got ass hairs that are older than his current wife. But that age difference is nothing for him. He used to fuck around with Alex from Lost when she was just 22. Besides, I’m sure Jeff and his new bride will tell you that she’s an “old soul” and he’s a “young soul” so it evens out. I just hope these two stay married long enough to do a naked beach photo-op, because I need an updated picture of (NSFW) Jeff Goldbum’s peen.
Here’s Jeff Goldblum looking like an Amish hipster dad while shopping for stuff with Emilie at The Grove a couple of weeks ago.
All over the basement today, the mice, roaches and millipedes are busy making a stunning and exquisite wedding gown out of moth balls, dead silverfish and old kitchen curtains, because their queen, Solange, is getting married in New Orleans on Sunday! I see you blankly staring at the screen while chewing a sandwich and thinking to yourself, “And? It’s just Solange. Who cares?” Um, the MothHive (member count: just me) cares, because our Basement Queen finally has a Basement King!
UsWeekly ”somehow learned” (cut to me making air quotes while side-eyeing the messenger rat that Solange sent to deliver details of her wedding to UsWeekly’s offices) that 28-year-old Solange is marrying her 51-year-old video producer boyfriend of 5 years Alan Ferguson in New Orleans this weekend. Yes, he’s 51. Those Knowles sisters are all about the seasoned dick. “A source” tells UsWeekly that Solange and Alan’s 3-night wedding extravaganza will start on Friday night with a movie (probably a private screening of Fight Club 2: Hate In The Elevator) and will end on Sunday with them getting married.
Alan will become Basement Baby’s second husband. She married her son’s father in 2004 when she was just 17 and she divorced his ass 3 years later.
I love how UsWeekly has all these little details. I see you, Basement Baby. She probably sold her wedding pictures to them, but who can blame her? Now that she’s getting married, that shifty trollop Beyonce probably cut her allowance and deactivated her charge cards, so she’s gotta hustle. But sadly, once UsWeekly deducts the cost of Photoshopping out half of Beyonce’s waist and the football helmet that Jay-Z wears whenever he’s around a drunk Solange, she’ll owe them money. Poor Basement Baby is always staying in the basement.
Eli Roth, the man behind such works of pee-pantsing terror as Hostel, Hostel: Part 2, and the subsequent follow-up nightmares that played in my sleep every night for the 8 weeks following my viewing of Hostel and Hostel: Part 2, married his 22-year-old actress-slash-model girlfriend Lorenza Izzo in Chile on Saturday. Get it girl! Get that horror movie money!
Us Weekly says that 42-year-old Eli and H-to-the-Izzo exchanged vows in both English and Spanish on a beach in Zapallar, then ate a bunch of lamb and danced with their friends till 4am. They also ate popcorn out of boxes covered in pictures of themselves from various movies they’ve both been in (cut to all the memaws fighting over who gets the box with the picture of a sexy bat-wielding Eli from Inglourious Basterds on it). A guest also told Us Weekly the wedding of Eli and Lizzo McGuirenza had “a singer from Iceland, Brazilian dancers, and a standee for My Big Fat Chilean Wedding that everyone posed with!” “A singer from Iceland? Don’t tease, guest – was it or was it not Björk!
Eli Roth seems a spooky dude who cums fake blood and ghost screams, but I bet that behind all the scary is a soft-spoken stay-at-home type who curls up on the couch every night at 8pm with a home-made pumpkin spice latte to watch “his girls” (either Golden or Gilmore). Lorenza, on the other hand, may look like a boring model type, but check out those eyes – she got them Serial Killer Eyes! Those are the eyes you see staring back at you from behind a collection of rusty chainsaws in the basement of an abandoned house! I guess what I’m saying is – they’re perfect for each other? Mazel, you two nightmare makers!
It’s a sad day in Pinche Putadom. Everyone is poised to pour one out for the loss of their leader, notorious jet-hopping-for-dick forever single serial ho Cameron Diaz at the news that she may be engaged (!!!) to her boyfriend,
Anemic Sunday Comics Pillsbury Doughboy Benji Madden. Of course, liquor is precious and delicious and they’re not stupid so they’ve pressed pause on the pour until they actually see her ass sporting a veil on the cover of People.
Cameron took a day off from preaching pussy gospel (bush is beautiful!! Can I get an amen! No?) to attend the Academy’s Hollywood Costume luncheon in LA on Wednesday, and hos at E! noticed that she had a little sumpin-sumpin shiny on THAT finger, sparking rumors that she was ready to trade her sucia card in for a life of domestic bliss. I’m no expert, but to me that sounds a lot like trading your Miata convertible in on a minivan so I’m not going to ask Cameron to be my financial advisor anytime soon.
It’s hard to believe that Cammy would go from hitting and quitting Justin Timberlake and Alex Rodriguez to settling down with a guy like Benji. I mean, look at him. Dude has to be seriously packing, or maybe he just seems that way to her after humping on Alex’s little roid rod for so long. Or maybe it was the unique ring, which looks suspiciously like a sparkling peen on the verge of plunging into an extra large vagina. Yeah that’s got to be it. That would totally win me over.
Because the universe heard you when you thought to yourself yesterday, “I really haven’t seen or heard enough about George Clooney’s motherfucking wedding,” People, Hello!, The New York Post and Vogue all threw up pictures of Amal Alamuddin’s wedding dress today. I fully expect to see close-up pictures of the food in Food & Wine Magazine, a 35-page profile in Boating Magazine about the boat they rode in, pictures of the custom-made wedding night anal beads they used in Hustler Magazine and an interview in Dog Fancy with the stray dogs in Venice who watched the wedding through a window. It’s only just begun! And you’re probably looking at that cover of People and thinking to yourself, “Tell me more about the Property Brothers at home…”
People and Hello! not only published dozens of pictures, but also a million details. Clooney wore Giorgio Armani, his cufflinks from his bride had his name in Arabic etched into them, Amal wore a custom Oscar de la Renta gown, there were 100 guests from 30 countries, the ugly cake was almost as big as Clooney’s ego, their first dance was to Cole Porter’s “Why Shouldn’t I?“, family friend Nora Sagal sang Irving Berlin’s “Always” and they got married in Italy because they met there. Amal’s mother said a few words to People about the wedding and I’m sure those words were not written by George Clooney’s PR team:
“George and Amal radiated love all night. The wedding was so unbelievably special, it was legendary. These three days – the friends, the families, the atmosphere, everything – will stay with me all the rest of my life.”
Inside Edition says that the wedding cost $13 million. Clooney and Amal got paid for the pictures, of course, and they’re donating the cash to charity.
Also, guests were all given an iPod with Clooney and Amal’s favorite songs on them. More like iBarf. Bono was a guest, so I’m guessing that the bottom of the Grand Canal in Venice is now an iPod graveyard. Because as soon as guests started up their iPods and noticed that U2′s new album was on it, they threw that shit in the water.
After the cut is a picture of AlaLooney on Hello! and Amal at her dress fitting with Oscar de la Renta. Sadly, I didn’t include any pictures of the Property Brothers at home.
At the airport in Venice today, George Clooney, Amal Alamuddin and their famous friends joined hands and bowed as their audience clapped, cheered, threw bouquets of roses at their feet and thanked them for delivering a tour de force OLD HOLLYWOOD GLAMOUR FASHION BOAT EXTRAVAGANZA! Before George and Amal took their final bows and left Italy, they officially got married in a 10 minute-long civil ceremony at Venice’s town hall. As George Clooney put a crack in the earth’s core by becoming a married man, the fame whore, social-climbing gold diggers of the world poured one out for George’s bachelor days and thanked God that Leonardo DiCatchAHo isn’t wearing a wedding ring yet.
Amal (who was dressed up like Bianca Jagger if Bianca Jagger was Carmen Sandiego) and George continued to redefine the meaning of EXTRA when they got on a boat named Amore and waved to their adoring subjects while thinking they’re the most glamorous thing to ever happen to a boat. Newsflash, bitches. The most glamorous thing to ever happen to a boat happened when Nomi Malone danced on one at a Las Vegas boat show in Showgirls. After AlaLooney made it official, they sashayed out of city hall and each spit out one word to reporters. via People
So how does it feel to be married? “Nice!” Clooney, in a gray suit, told waiting fans as he walked out of Ca’Farsetti with Alamuddin, who wore a cream-colored pantsuit and hat. Chimed in the new (Stella McCarney-clad) Mrs. Clooney: “Amazing!”
Asking a trick what it’s like being married ten minutes after they got married is a dumb question, but George’s answer was still funny. Nice! To George Clooney, 10 minutes of marriage probably feels like 10 years of marriage. If you asked him 5 seconds after he got married what married life was like, he’d say, “WONDERFUL!” If you asked him a minute later, he’d say, “GREAT!” And if you asked him 20 minutes later, he’d say, “Eh, you know….”
And now it’s over. Congrats to Clooney! Congrats to Amal! Congrats to Vogue (or People and Hello if you ask Lainey)! Congrats to the Venice Tourism Board! Congrats to the makers of boat fuel! And congrats to us all! I hope the divorce ceremony is as glamorous as this.