Someone better call animal control. It’s a giant, rabid Pekingese or Kim’s brushing her teeth in her veil. She’ll be minty fresh and no one will think anything of the white toothpaste blotches all over her boobs. Meanwhile, Kroy’s getting ready to head outside to wait for his foaming at the mouth bride. Kim’s dad can’t stop spewing his guts to everyone. To shut him up, someone says that Kim doesn’t want to cry, but undeterred, he says that he wants her to cry. Where are those animal control people with a muzzle when you need one?
This calls for a caption contest.
The moment that Kim and Kroy have waited their entire lives for has finally arrived. Coy opens the ceremony by talking about the importance of the date, 11-11-11, and all sorts of blabbering about the number one. It’s all rather boring except for Kroy wearing tight booty pants and ballet slippers when they met. This wedding was brought to you by ass and the Number One.
Mr. Tight Ass and Mrs. Big Ass
Kim and Kroy recited the vows that they wrote for each other and exchanged rings. Kroy also brought up Kim’s daughters to present them with rings to signify his commitment to them as his own. Though different, at least this part of the wedding is genuine and shows Kroy for the prize that he is. The wedding party moves inside to take lots of pictures while the guests start the party. The basketball court has been transformed into a winter wonderland, just as Kim envisioned for her wedding. None of this is what the landlord envisioned–bye-bye security deposit, hello damage suit with this episode as Exhibit 1. After the newlyweds take their first dance, they go back inside to change into their next outfits and dinner is served. Cue the steak knives, Alexis. Thank goodness dress number two covers those puppies a little better than the first one.
Use the bathroom now because once outside, you’re not getting back in.
Kim knows her man because he LOVED his wedding present of her gargantuan melons painted like his jersey. Should they ever suffer short-term memory loss, at least their time at home will be easy since they can’t walk two feet without seeing a picture of themselves–topless.
This one’s going to require extra support, ’cause it won’t be long before there’s some serious sagging.
Before the party kicks into high gear, Brielle gives a lovely speech about how happy Kroy has made Kim and made their family complete. There are some familiar faces in the crowd, including Perez Hilton, Patti Stanger, and Colin Cowie. Something about the dancing must be jiggling the bladders because people start creeping towards the Biermann home trying to sneak in to use the bathroom like a bunch of incontinent zombies.
Damn! I went to bust a move and split my pants.
The message is the same to everyone: You’re stupid to think you were invited for anything but your gift and you’re not welcome in the house. Everyone is regretting not wearing Depends and shocked to find out that the trailer parked out front wasn’t Kim’s real home. Everyone turns around and heads to the trailers–except for Kim’s aunt and mom. Her aunt and mom are two peas or pee-ers in a bitchy pod and are all riled up to storm the place. Kim’s dad continues dancing like a fool, mistaking his wife’s attitude for jealousy of his awkward dancing with a couple of ladies–one of whom is Patti Stanger. Let’s just say he makes Dancing Elmo look like Deney Terrio.
Who wants a piece of the Italian Scallion? Atsa spicy meatball! Yeahhhh!
Karen and her sister are going in and don’t care who or what is in their way. Karen says that if she has to bring down the house, it’s gonna happen. When Kroy steps in and says that his parents aren’t using the house, either, she says “F**k you” to Kroy. Classy just doesn’t capture it. They go into a dark room and lock the door, which we are led to believe is the room in which K.J. is sleeping. Kroy overhears Karen and her sister trashing them in their own home. Needless to say, with the drama caused by Skunk Mom and her sidekick, K.J. wakes up and begins crying.
I’m keeping the shoes. Spiders love shoes.