It's James' fault, really. We were in Target recently when we noticed how cheap the Bridezilla DVD was and he said, probably jokingly, "You could get that to show you what not to do." I don't think he expected me to have a Monday and decide that was a good idea. I watched the first two episodes last night.
(By the way, just in case you were wondering, James has declined to join me in my mock-the-stupid glee on this one. As it stands, I have to write him the Flavor of Love Drinking Game by Sunday if I want to watch the ghettofabulousness in peace. Expect a post on that this week.)
Wow. This shit is AWESOME. I mean, it's awful, but it's awesome. I think my favorite part was the 19-year-old bride with the "potty mouth," as the announcer titters. Because everyone knows that nice girls don't swear. Actually, you know, the show is most amusing to me not so much for the crazy brides (though 19-year-old child bride was plenty crazy, don't get me wrong) but for the schoolmarm voiceovers.
And then it occurred to me:
I would totally be the best Bridezilla ever.
I mean, look at it. Reality shows tend to boil a person down to a few trainwrecky qualities -- foulmouthed, immature, spoiled. Well, here I am. I'd be the foulmouthed, lazy, fat drunk bride with the redneck family!
I can imagine it now:
Announcer: The frazzled bride, in the depths of despair, turns to drink and wild partying.
Me: Awww hell no! We do this [BLEEP] every Friday night!
Seriously, I'd totally do it to cover wedding costs. It would be fun to fuck with these people!