And the men who allegedly love them.
Huh?
I just saw an ad calling for the next season of Bridezillas. “The search is on! The next Bridezilla could be you!”
How I came across this ad is not important but I’ll tell you lest you think it’s because I sought out this call. I watch Bridezillas. I have a Series Pass to Bridezillas. I thank the gods every day that I no longer have a TiVo so it can’t recommend to me other television shows based on my preferences.
But I’m confused. Who watches that ad and says, “OMG! That’s me! I want to be a Bridezilla!” No, seriously, I want to know. Who?
While I love Bridezillas the show I hate Bridezillas the women. It is above and beyond me how any of these women have friends, family, and most importantly fiances. WHO IS MARRYING THESE WRETCHED BRIDAL BEASTS?
Okay as I write this a bride is on TV yelling at her sister because she doesn’t fit into her maid of honor dress. Her sister just had a baby!
“You look like you have an ass crack on your back. No more eating or tanning this week.”
Now they’re fighting about who is going to be “tanner” on the wedding day. I think I know who is going to win the melanoma war. It’s like watching a wildebeest take on a hermit crab. No, scratch that. A hermit crab has a shell. A wildebeest and a fruit fly.
I’d like to think that my seeking entertainment by watching the dredges of humanity meltdown on limo drivers, seamstresses, baby weight, and weaves gone awry all while wearing enough taffeta to blanket the state of Idaho is not all in vain. No. I like to believe it serves a higher purpose and that is to warn you. I am kind of an expert on this show, after all.
People: if anyone close to you says “I’m going to be on Bridezillas!” or “I want to be on Bridezillas!” or “I tried to audition for Bridezillas but the WE network turned me down because they don’t have enough insurance to cover me!” you need to run. GO! Far, far away. Do not feel bad about dumping this person. They have given you a wonderful gift: a glimpse into their black, little souls by offering that little nugget. And for the love of all things holy, MEN: DO NOT MARRY THIS WOMAN! They have designs on your manhood. They hate your mothers. They want to be on a reality TV show about psychotic, crazed, overspending, delusional brides! They are not acting!
Do you really want to lean in for your first kiss only to hear your new wife’s steely breath hiss in your face, Don’t ruin my lipstick, as she offers you her cheek? Her cheek! Trust me, buddy, that’s the rest of your life right there. The days of “ruining her lipstick” are over. In fact, she may never wear lipstick again. I guarantee you “The Bride of the 7 Dresses” probably put on her sweats 33 minutes after the ceremony and hasn’t taken them off since.
Oh, I could go on. I could tell you about the drunken little hussy who got wasted at the rehearsal dinner and almost called off the wedding because her groom-to-be wouldn’t leave the guests to go outside and have a quickie with her. (She later got wasted at the wedding and accused him of having an affair with some chick he danced with. I think it was his cousin.)
I could tell you about Princess Psycho who lashed out at everyone around her because it was raining 3 days before her wedding.
Or the total nutjob who actually named her bitchy side– Bambi– so she could walk around town terrorizing limo drivers, tuxedo shops, florists, and of course her fiance, and not have to take responsibility for it!
“Bambi got pissed. She needs things done right. You do not want to get in Bambi’s way.”
Umm, Bambi? I’ve got another reality show for you. It’s called Inter-freakin-vention. Here’s where to sign.
So I beg of you: Ask your friends, ask your friends’ friends, ask the limo drivers, tuxedo renters, and florist in your town. Does anyone know any of these women and more importantly, the men who married them? I must talk to them immediately. Or email really. I’m too afraid to be in the same room with any of them. Especially, Bambi.
In the meantime, I leave you with this little gem of quality television:
Now go update your Netflix queues. You have some catching up to do.
Dear Shelly,
Boy did you hit it the nail on the head: dredges of humanity, or as my father likes to say, “Human debris.” It’s like watching a car wreck isn’t it? Sometimes you can’t look away. Did you see Amazing Race and that girl that lost $1,000,000 dollars because she wouldn’t go down a long water slide. This idiot girl began screaming, “Help me!” when her boyfriend moved to push her down the water slide. I do not consider myself a violent man, but I would have thrown the b*tch down head first, and I myself have been afraid of heights since childhood.
As a whole, I can’t stand reality TV. No one’s life should be on display like their a lab rat. And yet when the Surreal Life comes on…
OMG– Surreal Life… I watched that once (and by once I mean one whole, entire season) when CC Deville was on. Trainwreck indeed. How do they get these people to go on there? I have to think they’re not really that desperate, right? RIGHT?
I did not see the Amazing Race but I agree with you. I too am afraid of heights but I’d certainly suck it up and jump down the stupid slide. I could use part of million on therapy.
Reality Shows–the “fingernails-scraping-the-chalkboard” of TV.
Great article Shelly!
Ted
Oh shoot, you guys. I forgot to mention the bimbo (not to be confused with Bambi) who made her fiance write the thank you cards because she couldn’t spell BEAUTIFUL. Hello???
Wow, that’s simply beautiful! The producers probably watch reruns of My Super Sweet 16 (or any other MTV show these days) and cherry pick future Bridezillas based on how they acted at the age of 15/16. Sounds like a great feeder program, something like college sports are to professional sports. Thankfully my wife is the complete opposite of a Bridezilla, or anything else negatively shown on reality TV these days.
The amount of reality TV where people degrade/embarrass themselves beyond belief just amazes me. I don’t have any children yet (first one is in the oven right now tho!), but I think I’d rather sit them down in front of an R-rated movie as opposed to a reality TV show. At least when the R-rated movie is over I can tell them none of it is real and it will be the truth!!