My love of all things television is well documented on this blog (and also, what I write over at Scrivel). I'm also quite certain that in all of my rambling on this blog I might have mentioned once or twice that even though I am Southern by birth and also by the Grace of God, that I do not care for the country music. The old school stuff like Johnny Cash and my personal heroes Dolly Parton and Patsy Cline, yes. People like...I don't even know their names. That really young pretty blond chick who's like, 12 or whatever and sings about heartbreak? No.
So anyway, I was flipping through the channels yesterday and paused on CMT long enough to find the absolute best program anyone could have ever dreamed up, ever. Seriously.
My Big Redneck Wedding.
Heck. Freaking. Yes.
Having been to a number of weddings which were decidedly redneck in nature, I thought it might be interesting to watch a program about people who declared themselves country and decided to have a wedding that reflected this. Rather than, you know, just not knowing any better and doing things really tackily.
Is tackily a word? I'm not sure. Also? I don't care.
Anyway, I tuned in about halfway through an episode featuring a couple called Gail and John. The first thing they were doing was making a beer-can archway for the wedding.
No, seriously. I'm totally not kidding.
They hauled this big metal archway into their trailer and decorated it with empty beer cans. When it didn't look quite full enough on top, John drank numerous beers, burped really loudly, and tossed the empty cans to Gail so she could fill in. Then? Seriously, then? They lit it up with Christmas lights.
John attempts to write his own vows which he reads to "Granny". I am uncertain if she was his granny or Gail's granny or just some old woman living with them. At one point in his vows he said that Gail was "hotter than a Hot Pocket" and Granny said, excitedly, "I love Hot Pockets!"
So does John, Granny. So does John.
In a life-altering scene they went to the florist to arrange for the wedding flowers. Gail, I noticed, was missing a number of teeth. Perhaps all of her top teeth, I'm not sure. Gail and John decided, much to the absolute horror of the florist, that they would make centerpieces using....wait for it....used beer cans!
When they left the florist? John announced he had to pee.
He peed Gail's name into the street.
I AM NOT KIDDING!
They didn't release doves at the ceremony. They released live chickens.
She ordered her wedding dress off the internet. She's a size 28. The dress was an 8. John was trying to bind her into it and told her to take a deep breath. It didn't work.
Gail could not find her teeth the morning of the ceremony. Her soon to be Mother-in-law? Offered to let her borrow her teeth.
Seriously. You read that correctly. BORROW HER TEETH.
Good. Gravy. This is my new favorite show ever.
Not just because it's hysterically wonderful and, let's face it, I know a lot of people like that. But also because the couples really, genuinely seemed to love one another. I got a little choked up when they were saying their vows and a little more choked up when she gave him a wedding present. Which was a bowling ball that said, I believe, "Think of me when you touch your ball".
Good times, everyone. Good. Times.