It's A Nice Day For A Wonkette Wedding

Mandatory musical accompaniment to this post, for when you decide to have a perfect day, getting MARRIED TO HEROIN.

How do you throw a perfect wedding in just six weeks to celebrate your love and eternal commitment and success at babby-forming (which you magically embedded on your very first date)? We, your mommyblog recipe hub, are here to help.

1. Move someplace where people are going to have to travel a very long way to attend your nuptials. That way, you will have a house full of 15 people for a minimum of three days, and you can get the long-festering family-drama fights out of the way in the comfort of your own home instead of leaving them for the reception.

2. Have an artist sister. Buy some flowers from the grocery store (order nice ones ahead of time so you don't just have mums and mixed carnations and shit) and say "okay, make these now."

Sister Sarah and Brother John. Make sure your family dresses like hippies so the new fam can tell them apart.

3. Have a mom who, when you call her and say, "I thought for the wedding you would like to help us ..." shouts "YES!" before you've told her what it is. Have her cook the elk stew (murdered by your new son with his bare hands, to celebrate his father's wedding feast) for the reception, complemented by whatever the rest of your family wants to make. Whatever you yourself were going to make, have your mom do that too. She's spry! She wants to!

Also, take your family on lots of walks and stuff. That is a lot of people to be sitting in the house for three days.

4. Go up to the mountains. It's okay if you're actually running a little (up to an hour) behind. What are they going to do, start without you guys? Plus, while you're being late, the clouds will open, blizzard for 20 minutes, and leave everything perfectly powdery white.

When you get there.

Half an hour later.

5. Suggest to your handsome groom (AS A JOKE) that he should wear a white tuxedo. When he actually does this, perform sexual favors to demonstrate how unaccountably delighted you are.

Oh hey look, it's your new son, too! The one who murders you elks! :D

6. Have your artist sister what did the flowers make you a crown like Daisy Head Maisie, so you can be a woodland nymph snow queen of perfect prettiness and stuff. Also, wear your grandma's mink coat from 1955, if your grandma had awesome mink coats. Thanks Grandma Ceile! You have been dead since like 1985, oh well. Wedding dress? Who on earth cares if your guests get to see it? IT'S SNOWING FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

7. Did you forget something? It wasn't important. Did the speaker you rented prove to be too needy for the ancient electrical outlets? Nobody really wanted to dance anyway probably. Did your guests have to wait an hour for you while you were hunting down heaters that didn't actually work very well anyway? There's a bar. Everyone's happy. Go with it. It's perfect.

8. Have a literate, sensitive, funny pal -- maybe one who works for you? -- get ordained with the Universal Life Church. Make sure he includes some Vonnegut quotes!

10. When you have read your promises of forever love to one another, put the ring on your beloved's finger and shout I MARRY YOU! That's what makes it binding.

If that isn't nice, we don't know what is.

Rebecca Schoenkopf

Rebecca Schoenkopf is the owner, publisher, and editrix of Wonkette. She is a nice lady, SHUT UP YUH HUH. She is very tired with this fucking nonsense all of the time, and it would be terrific if you sent money to keep this bitch afloat. She is on maternity leave until 2033.


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