Weddings

Go ahead and throw this one in the file marked: The most WTF couple news since we learned that wolf sperm can fertilize pony eggs.

Frank Buffay, Jr. and Scientologist, Giovanni Ribisi, married British model type Agyness Deyn in Los Angeles over the weekend. Since I'm not really up-to-date on all Giovanni Ribisi (Side note: That name is really hard to type. That is a copy + paste name. That bitch's parents are really selfish for giving him a name that puts strain on a dumb ass gossip blogger's fingers!) gossip, I had no idea that he and Agyness were licking on each other's wet parts. But apparently, GR broke up with Cat Power not too long ago and started getting on Agyness. And now he's married. GR's publicist confirmed the random as all hell news with HuffPo.

These two just don't make sense to me. GR looks like a middle-aged alcoholic insurance salesman who spends his lunch break drinking bottom shelf whiskey out of a paper bag across the street from an elementary school playground (aka a pedo hipster). And she looks like the love child of Tea Leoni and a turnip to me. I don't know how this happened, but whatever. I'm all for bizarre couples, which is why I hope La Pequena and Quween on the Scene elope next.

Here's GR wearing a wedding ring at the TED premiere in L.A. last night.

Here's People showing us the EXCLUSIVO picture of Camila Alves and Matthew McConaughey's wedding they got in exchange for a bag of purple haze ganja and a bongo drum that doubles as a bong.

Camila paid tribute to the most intimate and authentic wedding of our time by wearing a Kuntrashian-approved diamond headband and she also wore the JcPenney lace overlay tablecloth my abuelita had on her dresser under the Jesus hugging a crucifix porcelain statue she got at Pic 'N' Save. Sadly, the Texas T-Rex didn't wear a sleeveless tuxedo t-shirt, but he did make me bliss the fuck out by giving this statement. We know WHO smoked that bouquet up after the ceremony.

"We decided to embrace the ritual of marriage as an opportunity and adventure we'll take together."

Translation: "I'M BAKED, MAN." 

I wish I was baked too, because that might make it easier for me to deal with that L.A. Looks gel in his hair and that picture that makes him look like Fire Marshall Bill after getting a graft from a dehydrated apricot. But I do love the tender "I'm going to poke at you to see if you're real-life or a figment of my shroom-induced hallucination" pose.

If you were in Austin, TX last night and wondered why you heard the sound of a wild stoner T-Rex howling at the night while running through the woods, pounding at his bare chest, you now know why. It was just Matthew McConaughey letting out a celebratory wail after becoming Camila Alves' husband. Yes, that's a picture of Camila with Matthew McConaughey and not a picture of Camila with the broken condom baby of a female Skeletor and a Ken doll.

The Texas T-Rex's spokeswhore tells People, who bought the EXCLUSIVO rights for publishing pictures of this shit, that he married the mother of his two kids and his piece of 6 years at their mansion in Austin, Texas last night. Camila took her man's last name, so now she'll be known as Camila McConaughey. If I was Camila, I'd also legally give myself a middle name that begins with a U, so my initials could be CUM. Now those are some initials worth monogramming on your bathroom hand towels.

A source tells UsWeekly that after the reception, a handful of guests including Woody Harrleson got the option to stay in a temporary McConaughey commune of over a dozen fancy ass tents that had showers and air conditioning. Hos who decided to camp out in Matthew's backyard didn't have to worry about bears, but they did have to worry about him trying to steal their weed stash in the middle of the night. Poor bitches had to hang their weed bags up in the trees. Well, at least they only had to hang their stash on the lowest hanging branch since Matthew's tiny T-Rex arms can't even reach that high.

All the details you don't care about like what Camila wore on her body and if Matthew played his own wedding march on his bongo drums are in the next issue of People. The only thing I care about is how Camila wore her hair, because above everything, hair IS important.

A little over 100 guests including Reese Witherspoon, Busy Phillips and Cameron Diaz (basically the bland blonde trifecta) all swooned with their ear holes when Drew Barrymore said "I do" in that drunk baby lisp of hers to her piece of over a year Will Kopelman at her fancy house in Montecito, CA (or as Drew calls it "Montathito") last night. People, who let us know that all EXCLUSIVO pictures of Drew's wedding will be in their next i$$ue, said that Drew got her ass married under a chuppah and a rabbi officiated the ceremony.

Designed by celebrity wedding planners Yifat Oren and and Stefanie Cove – who handled Reese Witherspoon's country chic nuptials last March – the intimate ceremony was "a classic, simple, very pretty, garden-inspired wedding," a source tells PEOPLE.

Classic and simple = BORING. What is the point of having a backyard wedding if you're not going to party it up? Since this is Drew's third marriage (never 4get Tom Green), she should've done it big. Drew should've been popping her pregnant pussy on top of a table as her guests threw dollar bills (which is like long grain white rice to the rich) at her.

UsWeekly says that Drew's something new was a "baby bump" (yes, we're still calling it a baby bump) and she accentuated it with a wedding dress by Chanel since her now father-in-law used to be the CEO of Chanel. I love weddings where the bride has a serious case of the BABIES!!! You haven't been to a wedding until you've been to one in a Catholic Church where an obviously knocked up bride is standing in front of a priest while wearing a virgin white gown from David's Bridal. The bride's abuelita muttering "ay" to herself during the ceremony will take you high, but the bride toasting to her new marriage with a plastic flute full of Mountain Dew at the reception will take you even higher. I mean, Mountain Dew is the Andre of sodie pop.

One day after Mark Zuckberg's farts became worth five thousand times more than the contents of most of our checking accounts, he married his girlfriend of 9 years Priscilla Chan. If I was a brand new billionaire, my wedding would be in a custom-built In-N-Out castle and Shauna Sand would officiate the ceremony in a giant lucite heel jacuzzi tub while the first season cast of Kids Inc. (sans Fergie) sang Samantha Fox's greatest hits in a huge basket of kittens. But Mark Zuckberg kept it low-key and instead married Priscilla in their backyard in front of around 100 family and friends. BORING!

UsWeekly says that Mark and Priscilla spent five months planning the wedding and kept gossiping bitches from spilling the news by telling their guests the party was to celebrate her graduating from medical school. Mark wore a suit (I'm sure there's a hoodie attached to the back of his blazer), Priscilla wore a dress, he gave her a simple ruby ring and Billie Joe Armstrong performed at the reception. Both Mark and Priscilla announced the news last night by changing their Facebook statuses to "married."

Mark and Priscilla's official wedding picture looks more like Herp and Derp's official wedding picture, but that's not the most disappointing part about all of this. The most disappointing part is that I'm pretty sure Priscilla is marrying Mark for love and not because he's richer than five Oprahs. Just think of all the gold diggers Priscilla Chan kept from doing their life's work by marrying Mark solely for his multi-billion dollar fortune. Think of the Heather Mills of the world, Priscilla. How fucking selfish of her!

Jennifer Aniston's dreams of marrying an actual human man (instead of a Real Groom Doll) by her minister dog (she made him get officiated online a couple of years ago) while surrounded by Beanie Baby flower girls and Cabbage Patch bridesmaids in the basement chapel she's having built in her new Bel Air mansion is not going to happen, because she doesn't have time for that shit now that she has to beat those whores Brangelina to the altar. TMZ says that Jennifer Aniston is about to make every tabloid editor drown in a pool of their own panty pudding by marrying Justin Theroux this summer.

A source (aka their publicist) close to the Elounda Beach Hotel in Crete, Greece told TMZ that Jennifer was there recently checking the place out as a possibility for her wedding venue. Jennifer told the hotel that she's planning a July wedding. Jennifer chose Crete as the place she wants to break the spinster curse Maddox put on her, because that's where her dad is from.

Here we go.... Today's headline is "Jennifer Aniston to Marry in Crete" and tomorrow's headline will be "Angelina Jolie BUYS Crete." Next week's headline will be "Jennifer Aniston to wear Vera Wang" and that will be shortly followed by the headline "Angelina Jolie ADOPTS Vera Wang." The summer Olympics will be foreshadowed by hos watching Brangie and Jennifer Aniston racing each other to People's "YES! We're Married!" cover. I just hope that the camera man zooms in on Maddox right before he puts his foot in front of a sprinting Jennifer Aniston as she's about to pass Angie.

Marcus Mumford from that British folk band Mumford & Sons married human Pixie stick Carey Mulligan in the English countryside today in front of a bunch of guests including former homewrecker hero Sienna Miller, Jakey Gyllenhaal and Colin Firth. That dizziness filling your head is your blood sugar levels rising from the word twee fucking you hard after reading that last sentence. I mean, Carey Mulligan and the dude from Mumford & Sons (or as Jezebel so perfectly puts it, "the Sith Michelle Williams and Jason Segel") barfing out their love for each other in a country wedding?

I bet their dancefloor is a field of wild flowers and they're dancing barefoot like a bunch of rich hippies as a dude wearing a tweed three-piece suit plays the harmonica while sitting in a tree. I can practically hear the laughs from blonde little girls in white cotton fairy princess dresses chasing fireflies around. I'm sure all their wedding pictures were taken with an accordion camera and Carey and Marcus will leave the wedding reception on a wooden wagon pulled by a pony with a flower wreath on its head. A British Knott's Berry Farm mess.

UsWeekly says that Marcus and Carey have been together a little over a year, but they knew each other as children. Marcus and Carey became pen pals through their churches. I know, they're just too much. From childhood church pen pals to getting married in a country wedding? I'm pretty sure I've already that story and I'm pretty sure it was written by the lady who wrote Anne of Green Gables.

(Image via Pacific Coast News)

If a bitch ain't getting engaged (see: Retha and LeBron James), then a bitch is getting married. The dried piece of tortured horse meat that is the sanctity of marriage was kicked in its core this past weekend when that slut pig Brandi AnalGlanville married one of her douche hole friends for a day (and for fucking shits), but it also got a sprinkling of glitter on it when human unicorn horn Johnny Weir married his Russian lawyer boyfriend Victor Voronov. Somewhere, there's a foot massager with a broken heart.

Johnny Twatted this out about his new marriage:

I'm married! @vitya_zvesda ♥

@Jillzarin Wedding in summer! But all the official stuff is done now! No more livin' in sin!

That summer wedding is on its knees and begging to be filmed for a reality show and I'm on my knees right next to it. Johnny's wedding is going to be a decadent display of rhinestone-encrusted EXTRAVAGANZAAAAA! Haven't you always dreamed of seeing a groom wearing a tuxedo made entirely of gold leaf? Johnny will make that dream come true. Haven't you always dreamed of watching flower girls dressed in swan costumes make figure eights around the two grooms standing under an altar covered in fur flowers? Johnny will make that dream come true. Haven't you always dreamed of seeing two grooms exchange vows in Russian as an almost naked harpist plays the theme song to Doctor Zhivago? Johnny will make that dream come true.

Johnny and Victor are totally going to get married at this palace of pure elegance:

They mayke yo dreemz come thru! And you can trust them, because they lifted their hands all grand-like when they said it.

And no, Johnny's dog is not eating your soul with its radioactive eyes. Johnny is so magical that whenever he touches a creature, its eyes turn into glowing mood rings.

On Wednesday, Sinead O'Connor announced out of nowhere that she's celebrating her 45th birthday by marrying her boyfriend of a minute Barry Herridge. There was a part of me that figured that hard-up Sinead was just riding high after finding a dude who really gets into the difficult brown and once she came down from the ass sex euphoria, she'd cancel her wedding plans. But nope. Sinead went through with it and married Barry in a Pink Cadillac parked inside of The Little Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas yesterday. If that last sentence convinced you to throw Sinead's name in as a contender to beat Kim Kuntrashian's shortest marriage of 2011 record, then this might keep you from doing otherwise: BARRY'S A THERAPIST! Barry probably has access to good meds and he's not afraid of a little poop noodle. This love will last forever. Here's what Sinead wrote on her site this morning:

Dear friends... amongst whom I include whomever may be reading this with a view to writing about the glorious marriage.
Am blogging this cus media people are naturally seeking me.
On sunday I will put up blog on whole day. Too glorious for words.
For now though, as you will appreciate, it's a bit of a 'Can't. Talk. Cock. In. Mouth'. Situation.

Xxx

Speaking of cock in mouth, is it just me or does the new Mr. O'Connor look like the gay-for-pay hooker from Revenge after giving head to a helium tank and swallowing all of the gas? Oh, that doesn't matter. It also doesn't matter that Mr. O'Connor just made my gaydar meter shut down before leaking out Irish cream. Sinead is smiling like her no-no is about to eat some Irish peen and that's all that really matters.

But in a shocking turn of events, this time she's actually the one married to the married man!

A flock of white doves wearing tiny blond wiglets flew over Atlanta yesterday after 33-year-old (in Courtney Stodden years) Kim Zolciak of The Real Messes of Atlanta married the man who owns the ass that she was creaming at the mouth over all last season. Kim and Atlanta Falcons player Kroy Biermann married on 11/11/11, because her lacefront squeezed her last memory chip out of her brain and those numbers added together make up his IQ, so it's an easy date to remember (but you know those dumb bitches will still forget it).

Life & Style, who paid for the EXCLUSIVO rights for the wedding pictures with a half-full jar of wig glue and an at-home collagen kit, has all the details that I know you give a thousand fucks about:

"This has been the happiest day of my life," Kim exclusively tells Life & Style. "It's been perfect. It's been a dream come true."

As Life & Style previously reported, Kim, 34, and Kroy, 26, got engaged in October after welcoming their first son, Kroy Jagger, together in May.

"He makes me a better person," says Kim. "I love everything about him."

The couple met at a charity function in 2010, during the filming of the third season of the hit Bravo reality series. Kim has two daughters, Brielle and Ariana, from a previous marriage. This is the first marriage for Kroy.

If NeNe, Phaedra, Cynthia and HeRee were there, they probably synchronized their divorce clock watches and made bets on if Kim is going to beat Kim Kardashian's 72 second-long queef of a marriage record. I'll bet that she will. This marriage is going to last about as long as the time she was a lesbian.

Kim will probably have to slap on a divorcin' wig in a few months, but at least 11/11/11 will always be the day that she wore a dress that made her look like her belly button heaved out intestines made of satin. This is the hideous barf spray of a wedding gown that Kim wore and ONTD says that the pre-owned dress cost Kim $58,000.

Yes, 58 fucking thousand dollars for a dress that looks like Liberace shat crystals on a Ballard Designs comforter and then slit its stomach and pulled out all of its satin internal organs. It's like the tackiest satin blood clot you've ever seen. To think, Kim could've had a She by Sheree ORIGINAL and she went with this shit instead? I bet Sheree shook her head at that thought as she collected the centerpieces from each table so she can sell them on eBay and pay her rent next month.