knifefight in BK

from the department of retarded bridalwear photo shoots

So you're working at some ridiculous foofy bridal dress conglomerate, and you're thinking to yourself, "How can we best showcase our fine, overpriced, amorphous gowns? What makes OUR foofy bridal dress conglomerate DIFFERENT from all the others hawking giant wads of overpriced white taffeta?" And the answer comes to you as if Thor himself whispered it into your ear: AN OLDE-TIMEY BICYCLE. THE ANSWER IS CLEARLY AN OLDE-TIMEY BICYCLE. And not just ANY old-timey bicycle, a comically oversized one. And not just ANY model, a sour-faced one who looks like she doesn't know HOW she got on the aforementioned old-timey bicycle, but she's pretty sure she can't get down, and screw you for laughing about it.

BRILLIANT.

the perfect accompaniment to your princess complex

I'm flipping through one of the far too many obnoxious bridal-crap catalogs that now bloat our mailbox, when I stumble upon this hot mess. Sweet fancy Elton John, what the crap IS this thing? I know it's every li'l girl's DREAM to ride to her fancy magic super sparkle wonder fantasy princess wedding in a giant, sweaty plastic pumpkin, but come ON. Really? A grown-ass human is supposed to do this? Listen, Cinderella was about a woman and a man who get together because he has some kind of shoe fetish and she really, really wants to get out of the house. Is that concept something upon which to base the celebration of your commitment to someone you've hopefully known for longer than, say, a dance at his magical castle? Ok, my problem with feminism vs. fairy tales aside, WHAT? Please note that the bottom of the ad assures you that trumpeteers are, in fact, available upon your request. Well THANK YOU JESUS! I know I can't go ANYWHERE in my plastic pumpkin without the assurance that I can announce myself with HORNS. THIS WHOLE THING IS JUST CREEPY. Nothing says "I planned this shindig when I was 7, please note that there are ponies" like riding up to your wedding in a giant plastic horse-drawn pumpkin. With trumpeteers. But who am I to say what gourd is or isn't an appropriate wedding-related novelty conveyance? Naturally, I'll be riding to our wedding venue inside a spaghetti squash. Pulled by cats. Cats riding unicorns. Unicorns wearing capes. And singing. In esperanto. Dankon and good day.

so... much... elegance... that it hurts...

I don't know, maybe if you would've asked me to imagine the most glorious setting for my very own MAGIC SPARKLE PRINCESS wedding when I was about 7 years old, I would've thought up someplace like this. Of all the ridiculously ornate 1970's-does-rococo doily-festooned joints in all the unsolicited bridal catalogs I've received thus far, this place freaks me out the most. I mean, WOW. I couldn't have hallucinated a better Barbie Dream House myself! It's like: busy floral carpeting? CHECK. Massive chandeliers? CHECK. "Classy" clear dance floor? CHECK. Grandma's favorite patio chairs? CHECK. Probable silk greenery exploding everywhere? CHECK. Christmas lights? CHECK. "We'll just paste this picture from 1983 in every regional bridal magazine, call it 'elegant,' and the Princess-brained Bridezillas will POUR in! NO ONE WILL EVER NOTICE THAT OUR CLASSY VENUE IS REALLY JUST AN OLD, UNUSED GREENHOUSE THAT WE JUST KINDA GAUDY-ED UP!" And a brilliant plan it is. In less mocking news, Peaches and I just signed the contract and paid the deposit for OUR venue. While it's not the bastion of Fantasy Island-era restraint and subtlety in decor that CASA DE ELEGANCE is over there, we're pretty excited about the future site of Team Awesome's Super Rad Wedding Bonanza 2008 - you can check it out here and share an "awwwwww"-type moment with me.

the magical, disturbing world of weddings

hi. as an engaged lady, i feel like it's probably my duty to you, my 4 readers, to tell you about the fascinating and bizarre things i have encountered as the planning of the 2008 wedding of mr. and mrs. knifefight unfolds. i've started getting like a billion catalogs in the mail, most of which involve lacy, flouncy, overpriced objects that i want nowhere near me on ANY day of my life, special or otherwise. i'm not sure why i'd want to give my mom some pre-fab lacy handkerchief-with-a-bad-soppy-poem-embroidered-on-it, i'm not sure why anyone would intentionally eat jordan almonds, and i don't think i want anyone to throw rice or seeds at my head if i just spent a lot of time and money getting my hair and make-up all pretty-like. what i do know is that the invitation pictured at left is mind-blowingly hideous. i don't know why small children and a giant motorcycle would mean "please come to our dress-up party," but then i'm not entirely sure how birds, hearts, and ribbons relate, either. does getting married automatically make you speak in half-assed rhyming poetry? i really REALLY hope not. anyway, welcome to my newest category: fancy magical sparkly princess cinderella bridal world!