Kate Middleton doesn't want the common people of England to ever think that she's above their commonness, so she decided to not wear the classic English rose bridal ensemble above that drips elegance as much as it makes the angels drip tears over its sheer beauty. Some ladies just aren't refined enough to carry a bridal two-piece made entirely of pasties. Kate understands this and she played it well by wearing a dress from David Bridal's "Copycat Grace Kelly" collection. No, it was designed by Sarah Burton of Alexander McQueen. You know, I'll slide my bitchiness to the side to say that even though I prefer my dresses with rhinestones, peek-a-boo holes and nipple latches, this worked for Kate! Here's the statement the palace (THE PALACE!!!) released the second Kate's toe stepped out of her car:
"Miss Middleton chose British brand Alexander McQueen for the beauty of its craftsmanship and its respect for traditional workmanship and the technical construction of clothing. [She] wished for her dress to combine tradition and modernity with the artistic vision that characterises Alexander McQueen's work."
A million copies of this are being made by child slaves in Chinese sweat shops as we speak! But to appeal to today's modern woman, they will chop the sleeves off, plunge the neckline to the belly button, remove the underlay over the breasts, hike up the front and install a built-in-thong!
And this is sort of off-topic, but one of my favorite parts of the ceremony is when Prince William had a little trouble getting Kate's ring on. At first, I thought SHOT GUN! But then I shook my head at Kate for being off her game. Always dip your finger in Crisco beforehand so that the ring always fits even if a sneaky snatch tries to sabotage you by switching it with a smaller one.
I finally made it to Texas after a million delays and unfortunately I didn't score any street meth like I hoped I would. But some drunken trick in torn jean coochie cutters and a midriff outside of my hotel told me I looked like a "white Bruno Mars" so that was pretty much the only mind altering fuckery I needed this morning. And on to more mind altering fuckery, below is my liveblog of the Royal Wedding Spectacular Extravaganzzzzzz(emphases on the "zzzz")a with The Morton Report. I can't promise that I won't pass out in a puddle of my own slobber and start morningdreaming about skipping through my own saliva pools with Prince Hot Ginge and that wedding cake-wearing puppy. Actually, that sounds better.
But I'll try my best to NOT do that. My own royal wedding drinking game should help with that. Every time The Queen starts open mouth snoring or PHG throws a "Where is the open bar?" look, I'll take a shot of the complimentary facial cleanser in the bathroom (there's no suitable booze in this joint). Now on to this mess (my ass is watching NBC, by the way)!
Believe it or not, there's actually other weddings happening this weekend and my ass just so happens to be going to one in what most people call the England of America: TEXAS! No, I won't be ching ching-ing champagne flutes with the Princess of Moldavia like the royals will be, but I will definitely will be toasting to the bride and groom at the wedding I'm going to with plastic cups full of red wine and Coke, so who's the real winner here? Thankyouverymuch!
My flight keeps getting delayed for obvious reasons, but hopefully I'll get into Texas in time to score some street meth, snort a few lines of chopped up No-Doz and get myself nice and perky for an all-morning highblogging binge OF THE EVENT OF THE
CENTURY YEAR MONTH WEEK WEEKEND (after the Texas royal wedding I'm going to, of course).
I will be co-liveblogging here at Dlisted with the fancies of The Morton Report beginning at 4am east coast time. They'll probably be the ones pointing out all the details while I incoherently ramble on as usual about how I got Chelsy Davy's numbah, etc! I'll be operating on natural craziness and gas station coffee, so I'll look how that Prince William wax figure feels. Or is it I'll feel how that Prince William wax figure looks? Shit, I'm already fucked up. Until then!
I'm still politely holding my hands in my lap (I'm typing with my tongue) and patiently waiting for the official royal wedding portrait of Prince Hot Ginge in his official best man uniform of no-coat and all-tails, but I guess I'll have to settle for this shit for now. Who ever is in charge of releasing official royal wedding portraits of Prince Teefs & Princess Groucho Marx Brows released this official royal wedding portrait of Prince Teefs & Princess Groucho Marx Brows this morning. It was taken by Mario Testino and will go in the wedding program next to this picture, of course.
You know where else this portrait is going? On the front window of every shameless mini-mall dentist who will use it to advertise their teeth whitening services. Don't be surprised if you see this portrait on a package of bootleg white strips at The Dollar General. This is like a Crest White Strip for my eyes. ALL TEEFS! I don't know whether I want to wish them congumulations or scare them off with a snake!
Anyway, here's some completely thrilling and totally clear pictures of Kate Middleton and the fire in my hole PHG waving at me today.
Prince Hot Ginge has just under 6 days to find the biggest belt buckle flask to wear with his uniform to Prince William and Kate Middleton's wedding this Friday, because they have done the absolutely unthinkable: they have put a ban on all beer and hard liquor at the reception! WHAT?! HOW?! HUH?! WHY?! Kate and William want to keep pinkies up, so they have chosen to serve only fine champagne (no ANDRE allowed) in flutes and wine (I'm not talking rosé and 7-Up either). If the belt buckle flask doesn't work out, PHG better find a way to hook himself up to a portable feeding tube filled with vodka, but this shit is serious.
A source tells The Mirror that Kate and William think it's all kinds of not classy for their guests to down pints while surrounded by royals of the world. The source went on to say, “There won’t be any beer. “Let’s face it, it isn’t really an appropriate drink to be serving in the Queen’s presence at such an occasion. And while the younger royals enjoy a pint from time to time, neither Kate nor William is a big beer drinker so they decided to leave it off the menu. It was always their intention to give their guests a sophisticated experience and they have chosen the food and drink with this in mind.”
They want to give everyone a sophisticated experience?! Well, then they're already failing. A wedding doesn't get stamped with a "sophisticated experience" label until guests have seen the bride in her wedding gown fish a can of Bud out of a kiddie pool filled with bagged ice while balancing a paper plate of El Pollo Loco on the other hand. Trust me. I've been to a lot of weddings and nothing makes me feel like I'm at a real special affair like that image.
In other royal wedding news, the entire guest list has been released. It includes Posh & Becks, Elton John, Joss Stone (????), Guy Ritchie (you know Madge is pissed), Mario Testino, Ian Thorpe and Rowan Atkinson. While scanning the 10-mile long list, I tried to think who I should try to impersonate when I crash that shit to get a sip of gin from PHG's belt buckle flask. Would I make a more believable Monsignor Philip Kerr or Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn of Thailand?
The emaciated Falcor and the man whore of Burbank have officially become more annoying than a tampon made of Brillo pads by partaking in a pre-divorce ceremony at their home in California today. You know, I haven't even tiptoed into either one of those Twatter accounts, because I just know it would be like drowning in nauseating smugness. I bet they even said "I Do" to each other through Twitter. And just as they hit send, that shit crashed, because the Twitter bird wants no part of this "won't end well" shit. Now, I'm currently at a rest stop between DRUNK and HUNGOVER, so I'm going to let People take it from here:
"LeAnn and Eddie were happily married today surrounded by their closest family and friends," the bride's spokesman, Rhett Usry, confirms exclusively to PEOPLE. "They thank everyone for their well wishes."
Country star Rimes, 28, wore a Reem Acra gown as she and actor Cibrian, 37, exchanged personalized vows on Friday in front of about than 40 guests, including Cibrian's sons Mason, 7, and Jake, 4, from his previous marriage.
The couple had led friends and family to believe that they'd been invited to an engagement party, but surprised the guests by tying the knot at the intimate ceremony held at a private home in California.
We all know how this is going to play out. LeAnn is going to poot out a baby with eyes as tiny as a baby fly's urethra. Seriously, eyes about the same size as the mail slot on the front door of a flea's house. That's when we'll all synchronize the clocks on our iPhones, because a quick minute later Eddie Cibrian will be on the cover of InTouch Life & UsWeekly Star with the mistress whore he left LeAnn for saying that he didn't have the tools needed to leave her the right way. Brand Glanville's karma cackle is already standing by ready to go!
Suri Cruise's eyes might be saying "Isn't this special?", but her finger over her mouth is loudly screaming, "How. Tragic." From Jim Toth looking like a shaved monkey getting his daily protein by nibbling the gnats out of Reese Witherspoon's hair to Hello! Magazine erasing the Barbie from her dress, Suri is not amused. If People insisted on pushing Suri into the corner, they could've at least used a picture of Reese that didn't make her look like the love child of Skipper and Mr. Potato Head getting assaulted by a Monchichi. No, she looks pretty. I'm just every flavor of bitter, because Jake Gyllenhaal should be the one with a veil on his head on the cover of People. And Reese knows it! That Ore-Ida chin of hers has got a dollop of smugness directed at JAKE! Something tells me Jake will be shouting a raw rendition of Whitney Houston's "It's Not Right, But It's Okay" at this cover today.
And here's the newly married Reese at the ACMs in Las Vegas last night with RPattz! Either RPattz is stoned drunk or he's trying to wrestle out a fart.
As Ryan Phillippe says "til premature ejaculation does us part" to a random fuck piece he met this afternoon and Jake Gyllenhaal silently weeping into the wedding dream book he made with Reese Witherspoon, she handcuffed herself to her 40-year-old agent boyfriend of over a year, Jim Toth, at her fancy ranch on Ojai, CA today. Is her chin making his head look HUGE or has the bong smoke given me fun house mirror vision again? Developing....
One of the white doves from Reese's wedding must be a speed racer, because it delivered all the details to UsWeekly in record time. Seriously, they got everything down to what he walked down the aisle to. That white dove don't play.
Wearing a custom-designed Monique Lhuillier gown, the actress, 35, exchanged vows with CAA agent Toth, 40, in front of 120 family members and friends (including Renee Zellweger, Alyssa Milano, Robert Downey Jr., Salma Hayek and Tobey Maguire) in the front courtyard of the Ojai house.
Witherspoon's best friend, Heather Rosenfield, served as matron of honor, and her kids with ex-husband Ryan Phillippe -- daughter Ava, 11, and son Deacon, 7 -- took part in the ceremony. The Oscar winner's young nieces served as flower girls.
The "Tennessee Waltz" was the processional music for Toth and the kids, while Witherspoon walked down the aisle to "Here Comes the Bride." The 20-minute ceremony was officiated by Reverend Jimmy Bartz, founder of Thad's church in Santa Monica, where the couple have been attending weekly Sunday services. The duo exchanged wedding bands designed by jeweler William Goldberg.
Congrats to Reese and Jim, and a pre-congrats for all the giant headed babies they're obviously going to have together. I would say that I'm going to celebrate this shit by watching Freeway and Fear for the millionth time while eating a wedding sheet cake from Sam's Club with a veil on my head, but I pretty much do that every Saturday night. I was going to do it anyway, so don't think your ass is special, Reese!
If only she was having a Freeway themed wedding complete with a bouquet of ugly sticks and vows that include the line: "I promise to love and to cherish you, and never do sex to your dead body." Maybe next time. For now, Reese Witherspoon and her fiance Jim Toth are planning a traditional and intimate ceremony at her 7-acre estate in California's Ojai Valley. Reese's second time doing the marriage thing will start on March 26th. That's what Radar is reporting.
A source says that 100 guests will watch Reese strut down the aisle in a Monique L'huillier hitchin' dress while surrounded by white flowers and shit. Reese and Jim barely got engaged in December, but she wants to make it official before she begins whoring that Agua Para Elefantes movie out around the world.
I understood why Reese and Jim got engaged in the first place. The word "fiance" is much more fun to say than the word "boyfriend." It's like a delicate puff of fanciness leaping off your tongue. My cholita cousin pronounces it "fee-on-sea," and even she sounds like an International lady when she says it. But I never thought Reese would actually turn her fee-on-sea into her husband! What an ice cold FUCK YOU to Jake Gyllenhaal!
When Reese and Jake stopped skipping down the streets together, the rumor was that it ended because she didn't want to get married. Jakey would constantly hum "dun dun dundun" around the house, but Reese would always respond with silence. So it should be Jake under that canopy of white lilies! It should be Jake seductively pulling the garter off his leg at the reception! It should be Jake!
I swear, I hope Reese's veil gets stuck on her chin when Jim tries to pull it up. Heartless!
While my brain is spending its rollover thought minutes on wondering if Prince Hot Ginge is going to wear his lucky Union Jack thong on Britain's special day, most hos are thinking about Kate Middleton's wedding dress. Kate's hitchin' gown is going to be the second most famous dress of the century after THE SLUT DRESS, and now the Telegraph is saying that it will be designed by Sarah Burton of Alexander McQueen. YES! YES! YES! There will be nothing better than seeing Kate Middleton walk down the aisle dressed like a reindeer ghost who fell into a mountain of moth balls after crashing through a gothic grandma's front room curtains. Say fuck yes to that dress, Kate.
The house of Alexander McQueen has denied the rumors, but the Telegraph thinks they are just saying that to keep the noisy noses from sniffing up their assholes. A source says that Kate and Sarah Burton are working on the dress together. The Telegraph goes on:
Mrs Burton, who took over as creative director of the fashion label following the suicide of Alexander McQueen last year, strenuously denied having won the commission.
But sources said the 36-year-old had been chosen for the discretion afforded by her relatively low profile, as well as for her alternative take on elegance.
If confirmed, the selection of one of Britain's edgiest labels will be seen as a fresh attempt by Miss Middleton to develop her own unique style after drawing criticism in some quarters for her "conservative" dress sense.
Welp, the designers at David's Bridal can toss their sketch pads into the dumpster, because I guess this contest was won a long time ago. Seriously, though, Kate should have to tackle and stab a trick in the neck for a wedding dress like normal hos do!
And here's a few pictures of Kate throughout the years that her family released. If marrying a royal means that your family gets to release all the awkward photos you thought you burned in a metal trash can in the backyard, then count me the hell out. No, I don't mean that. If getting to wear Prince Hot Ginge's family jewels on my heads means that everybody gets to see me looking like an anorexic brown Bichon Frise with glasses, then bring 'em out.