Weddings

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.

Conan O'Brien ended his week of shows in NYC last night with a grand finale featuring the ginger giant with hair like a wave crashing in the sunlight officiating the wedding of his costume designer Scott Cronick and Scott's parner David Gorshein. Some cynical hos have put a STUNT QUEEN crown on Conan's head for doing this for ratings, but it looked genuine and sincere to me. I mean, don't get me wrong, it wasn't as genuine as a 10 hour-long, $15 million TV wedding shittacular between a hallow fame eater with butt meat for brains and a rock creature oaf in a tux, but it still seemed genuine to me and it's progress! Besides, Scott and David probably wanted to get married on TV, because they wanted as many eyes as possible to see their Say Yes To The Blazer ensembles. You cannot argue with this. And I've never noticed, but Conan is so damn tall that he makes everybody around him look like they came from the Shire.

Okay, maybe I have one problem with this shit. I am mad at Conan for letting an opportunity sashay by him. The opportunity I'm talking about is spelled R-O-J-O-C-A-L-I-E-N-T-E! The ratings scale would've set fight to itself just thinking about Conan, Rojo and Cynthia Nixon on the same stage together. As soon as that ginger trifecta assembled in the name of ginge gayelle love, Daylight Savings would cancel itself, winter would stay in its frozen demon hole and it would be summer for the rest of the year.

When you're breathing hot air into your palms to rub on your freezer burnt culo lips this winter, curse Conan's name as you do it.

On Sunday afternoon in the Nappy Valley (my fingers really wanted to type "Nappy" instead of "Napa" so please let me keep it), Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and Billy Crystal all watched as half-shaven silver bear Robin Williams made his graphic designer girlfriend of 2 years his third wife. All shovels stand up and salute Susan Schneider for proving that the perseverance of a late-in-life gold digger always pays off.

Page Six says that right before Robin Williams underwent heart surgery two years ago, he started giving Susan's body carpet burns by rubbing his bear rug body against hers. Susan stayed with him and nursed him back to health.

Robin's first marriage died a slow death when he down low dicked a cocktail waitress. Robin's second marriage ended up in a shallow grave after he allegedly dow low dicked another trick. So I'm sure history is just history and Robin will not cum hairy sperm balls on another woman's chest. To be sure, Susan should only let Robin hang out with women who are allergic to cats since he's so damn hairy that I'm sure he sheds dander.

Here's Robin and his new wife Susan entertaining Paris with a kiss and ass show while on their honeymoon yesterday. Being around spastic Robin all of the time is probably as frustrating and annoying as trying to scissor a lesbian in a Smart Car, so I'm sure this time next year we'll see pictures of Susan making out with a Valium bottle and lifting her skirt to get a Xanax injection in the butt.

Carrying a bouquet of peach pits and wearing a garter belt made of Kelly Taylor's dried lonely tears, Shannen Doherty became a wife for the third time yesterday when she married a dude who looks like a community college English teacher that always keeps wet-look gel and a bottle of Preferred Stock in his desk drawer. Since Shannen is TV bitch royalty and we need an exquisite wedding of taste to cleanse our retinas of the thick layer of skank piss left by the Kuntrashian wedding, her glide down the aisle was shot for her new reality show. People has all the little details you really don't care about. Seriously, did Shannen wear a re-worked version of Brenda's prom dress and did she sing "It's My Party" at the reception? That's the shit we want to know!

The TV actress, 40, who most notably played Brenda Walsh, said "I do" to her fiancé Kurt Iswarienko at sunset, PEOPLE has confirmed.

The black-tie affair took place at a private estate nestled in the hills.

The nuptials reportedly are airing on the season finale of Doherty and her new hubby's upcoming WEtv reality series about planning for the big day.

Shannen was married to George Hamilton's son for a quick second, but their love died after they unleashed the crazy on their house and destroyed it. Shannen then married Rick Salomon and they were together for at least two seconds before he went on to do Lucifer's evil work by making the dead fish equivalent of a sex tape with Parasite Hilton. So hopefully Shannen's third marriage doesn't end with an eviction notice or a fuck tape that doubles as a terrorist threat. I'm sure this one will stick! Shannen is all grown up now and way more educated thanks to Education Connection!

On what would've been John Lennon's 71st birthday, Paul McCartney threw himself into the marriage thing again by making the serious businesswoman daughter of a New Jersey shipping magnate (Daughter of a New Jersey Shipping Magnate should really be a band name) his third wife in London. 69-year-old Paul and 51-year-old Nancy Shevell said "until the cunt wrath of Heather Mills" does us part in front of guests including her cousin Barbara Walters and Ringo Starr at the Old Marylebone Town Hall, the same place where he married his first wife Linda in the 60s. Well, maybe he got married there again because they waived his marriage license fee since he's a returning customer.

Both Nancy and Paul wore outfits made by his daughter Stella McCartney. Paul and Heather's daughter Beatrice was the flower girl and he gave his new wife Nancy a fancy 5-carat diamond wedding band by Neil Lane. People says that after the wedding, everyone went back to Paul's mansion to slurp on vegan food as they nervously looked for Heather Mills to fly in on a broom that doubles as her other leg.

You know, Nancy and Paul look so happy that they could fart out heart-shaped clouds (and since they're eating vegan food, they probably will) and she has enough money to bathe in hundred dollar bills every night so I doubt she's putting her shovel under his fortune, but I just can't get into them. They are so damn boring! Nancy is the human equivalent of a Kate Middleton yawn. Just look at those shoes. Those shoes are straight out of the memaw of the bride collection at Payless. If Nancy was a toddler getting her First Communion, then wearing those shoes would've been okay.

I mean, if this was Heather Mills' wedding, she would've already karate-pegged a bitch for throwing petals instead of money and she definitely would've ripped off the head of a white to dove to pour its blood on the paparazzi. Those were the days. As boring as they are, I'm sure Nancy and Paul will last FOREVER! But mainly because Nancy is going to do whatever she can to NOT join Heather Mills in The Paul McCartney's Ex-Wives Club.

Duchess Kate is ripping out whatever hair is left on her husband's head this morning, because her reign as the most famous royal bride of the year came to a crashing end as soon as the mummified Rhea Perlman who was brought back to life with an air kiss from Voldemort floated above a dirt aisle at her wedding in Sevilla, Spain today. Fuck your life, Kate, because today the Duchess of Alba got all the points by wearing a stunning gown made by Chico himself using her crib skirt from the turn-of-the-century and the green ribbon she snatched out of Luke's hand right before she turned him into a mouse. The Duchess of Alba's guests would've gasped but they were told to keep their mouths closed for the entire ceremony, because there was a good chance she would've transformed into a funnel of smoke and entered their body to eat their souls from the inside/out.

HOLA! Magazine is pleased to report that 85-year-old (suck in your eyeballs for 5 seconds.... and release)

María del Rosario Cayetana Paloma Alfonsa Victoria Eugenia Fernanda Teresa Francisca de Paula Lourdes Antonia Josefa Fausta Rita Castor Dorotea Santa Esperanza Fitz-James Stuart, Silva, Falcó y Gurtubay

became (suck in your eyeballs for 6 seconds.... and release)

María del Rosario Cayetana Paloma Alfonsa Victoria Eugenia Fernanda Teresa Francisca de Paula Lourdes Antonia Josefa Fausta Rita Castor Dorotea Santa Esperanza Fitz-James Stuart, Silva, Falcó y Gurtubay Diez

today when she married her 61-year-old commoner love toy Alfonso Diez at one of her castles in Spain in front of almost all of her six ungrateful children (her ungrateful bitch of a daughter came down with chickenpox so she couldn't make it). These are the same ungrateful bitch children who would not bless the Duchess of Alba's marriage until she gave them all of her billion dollar fortune to prove to them that Alfonso was not marrying her for money. Alfonso was obviously marrying the glorious duchess, because when the rapture comes next year the great swarm of locusts will not come near him if he's standing behind their queen! But those dumb children did not know this.

Alfonso, who is now known as the Duke of Alba, already signed away any right to the House of Alba should his beautiful love affair with the duchess end. But for now, the Duchess of Alba kicked off her sensible Easy Spirit flats and danced in the streets to celebrate the gods accepting her love with Alfonso. Did that bland bitch Kate Middleton do that? I think not.

Congratulations to the most regal dandelion in the royal garden and allow me to end this post with these words for the duchess:

De mayo de Alfonso Diez suavemente la joroba del brillante polvo zombie de por eternidades, o hasta que la tierra Klingons en la tierra para volver a su planeta de origen. A ustedes, mis BELLEZA! Ahora, conseguir que los jóvenes polla!

And in case you're not fluent in Google Español :

May Alfonso Diez gently hump the sparkly zombie dust out of you for eternities to come or until the Klingons land on earth to take you back to your home planet. TO YOU, MY BEAUTY! Now, get that young dick!

After 28 years together and hundreds of nights of Gene Simmons coming home with his tongue covered in the crotch sludge of one of his side pieces, he and Shannon Tweed have gotten themselves married. In a ceremony at the Beverly Hills Hotel that was probably more awkward than their interview on Joy Behar, Gene promised to love and to cherish Shannon in sickness and in health until death do them part or until she finally snaps by pulling an Elin Nordegren when her man whore husband gives her crabs again.

The most tragic thing in the world besides a groupie slut willing to wrap her ass tunnel around Gene's tongue is a 54-year-old Shannon Tweed getting crabs the "non fun" way. People has all the details you care about (you don't care about these details) Gene and Shannon's late-in-life wedding:

Tweed, 54, walked down the aisle in an ivory Priscilla of Boston gown – one of three dresses she chose for the big occasion – and carried a bouquet of ivory garden roses.

The couple exchanged vows they wrote themselves in front of 400 guests including Hugh Hefner, Bill Maher and his fellow KISS members (Paul Stanley was in the wedding party). The wedding will appear in the new season of Gene Simmons Family Jewels on Oct. 18.

Also in attendance were the couple's two children Nick, 22, and Sophie, 19, who was the maid of honor.

From watching a few episodes of Family Jewels (which I ONLY watch because Nick Simmons does things to me) I've learned that Shannon and Gene's relationship is not as sturdy solid as the King Tut headdress of gorilla fur around Gene's face. But maybe Gene's just playing the role of a "geezer skank asshole who only cares about where his next piece of coochie is coming from" for maximum dramatic effect. Whatever the case may be, I hope this marriage lasts for eternity. And by "eternity" I mean until their reality show needs a ratings pick-me up in the form of a very special divorce episode.

Detective La Toya Jackson's long lost son (HE WISHES!) Cheyenne Jackson, who your eyeballs might have fallen on during 30 Rock, Glee or Xanadu: The Musical, married his physicist piece of 11 years Monte Lapka on a beach in New York yesterday. Cheyenne let their dog Zora know that she's no longer going to get "you bastard out of Gayolina" eyes of judgement from the religious bitches at the dog park when he Tweeted this after the wedding:

It's official, after 11 years together, Zora's no longer a bastard. Married the best man I've ever known.

Congratulations to Cheyenne Jackson and the dude who looks like he spends precious hours meticulously manicuring his sharp as fuck beard with a protractor, pinky shears and a picture of Norwood Young's hairline as inspiration. Also congratulations to white button down shirts and white pants. You're no longer mostly known as the ensemble of choice for boy bands of the 90s and Christian family portrait sessions. You're now known as the ensemble of choice for gay beach weddings. UPGRADE!

via People