Great girls wear white. Bad girls put on white anyway.

We’ve all heard about wedding day disasters, like when a jealous ex-lover crashes the wedding ceremony and causes a picture or the photographer cancels at the last minute.

Now let me tell you about my wedding day-the day a large number of demonic spiders chased my fiance and me off the elevator and into the Devil’s den. And do not get me started on hellacious honeymoons. I spent the night time shaking horny Monkey Hitler off my lower leg.

Instead of sipping margaritas on a sunny beach with a rock about my finger and the person of my dreams beside me, I’m demonic and deserted, stuck inside Hell’s Hotel using a awful case of fleas, praying our sadistic host doesn’t throw us away.

To say my big day was a disaster would need to be the understatement of the millennium. I just hope our friends can save us before it’s too later, because that squirming factor on my fork certainly doesn’t flavor like poultry, and I forgot to pack my SPF 10,000 sunblock.

Contains mature themes.