Wedding Hells

I've got so much to write about here, but first I'll talk about one of the most life-changing events in my life.

I got married.

Of course, I got divorced six hours later, but those were the most wonderful six hours of my life, and if that bimbo Pam Anderson hadn't decided to get married in a frickin' bikini, MY wedding would have been all over the tabloids.

Anyway...picture this scene. I'm auditioning for a lead role in "Scream Bloody Murder IX: Dark Bloodening" when the director calls in the producer to check me out. In walks this short, hairy, pudgy old man with slicked back hair and a cigar hanging out of his mouth, not even bothering to look at me while he's counting a roll of hundreds.

It was love at first sight.

I can't give his name on here, but his initials are B.J. (ironic, considering) and I gave the performance of my life for him (on several occasions, but more on that later). After I did the scene--the main character. Tiffy, does some major soul searching about her life while taking a shower--B.J. invited me to dinner. Well, obviously I gave up eating a long time ago, so I asked if we could meet for drinks instead. He said yes, and that got it all started.

A lady doesn't kiss and tell, but we totally did it that night. Well, sorta. I told him I really wanted to wait until I was married to actually DO it (I'd just read that virginity is really hott now). B.J. had a little bit of a...problem...in that area anyway. That was fine with me, though, because he bought me a gorgeous diamond tennis bracelet to make up for it. I spent the weekend with him and let him buy me a new wardrobe and a new car and a new doggy bed for my new teensy-weensy little doggie, BooBoo. Sure, he smelled like old salami and forgot to clean his dentures and didn't bother to change his underwear every day, but it was love. Pure, undeniable love.

Well, one thing led to another and after one date that ended up in the back of his leather-interior limo, he asked me to marry him during a weekend in Vegas. I told the blackjack dealer to hold my spot and we zipped over to one of the chapels and let Elvis marry us. Then I won a hundred bucks on the slot machines and let B.J. buy me a totally sweet diamond-encrusted doggy collar for BooBoo. It was a magical night.

Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to last. B.J. surprised me on our wedding night by telling me that he'd finally broken down and got a prescription for those little blue pills. You know the ones. By the time I'd finished my champagne bath and jacuzzi and went back into the bedroom, B.J. was ready and raring to go. I'd never seen a man so happy.

Sadly, I had developed one of my terrible migraines between the tub and the bedroom and wasn't able to indulge B.J. that night. He didn't take the news well, since he'd waited so long and everything, and when I woke up in my own suite the next morning, he had already served divorce papers on me.

I was heartbroken, of course, but I healed pretty quickly when I realized that B.J. had been so hot and bothered for a wedding night with me that he'd forgotten to have me sign any kind of prenup. Oopsy!

So now I must live with the trauma of divorce. I'm planning on using the emotional pain in my acting, so I'm getting more out of it than just half of B.J.'s millions. Ah, life...it can be so sweet, yet so cruel.