Bridezillas: Tifani & Johanne

If we can agree on one thing in our crazy mixed-up world, let’s make it this: Bridezillas Tifani and Johanne will — if such a place exists — sizzle in Hellfire for eternity.

Tifani: for making laxative brownies for one of her groomsmen for lying about getting fitted for a tux and declaring she “don’t give a damn.”

Johanne: for kissing a tattoo artist while her man is blindfolded with a pink bandana in a tattoo-parlor chair.

Both: for humiliating self and family for all the Bridezillas-watching world to see.

“I really don’t care if people hate me. Might as well give him a reason to,” says Tifani. “This is not attempted murder. Not like he gonna die. He just gon’ be shitting all day.”

I found myself wishing that someone held Tifani down so Marcus could coat her in feces, if but only for a moment. Then, I prayed for it. And what happens? Tifani’s mama took the brownies and “had a little piece.” So, the mom just laughs on the phone about it. What the fuck kind of shit is that?

She hand delivers another batch to Marcus saying this, on the way, of Brandy, who also mistakenly ate some treats: “If she throw up, she gon’ throw up out the ass.”

She smiles in his face as he eats it. Then, she warns him “not to share them brownies.” He totally sees it coming, though.

Regardless, if I didn’t think it was illegal to do so, I’d take out a Craigslist ad seeking a fecal warrior in the Shreveport, La. area and take up a collection to fund Fecal War II. Gotta figure the Tea Party would kick in to the kitty.

Oh, it doesn’t end with Marcus. There’s a friend named Truman or Jonathan or something who “if he was on fire, I wouldn’t piss on him” because he once said she was bipolar and crazy. Because he once said accurate things about a bipolar, crazy piece of gutterscum. She doesn’t want him at the wedding. He intends to attend the wedding. She starts screaming and punching. He swaggeringly says, “I’ll be there, drunk.” Dude’s A-game all the way through.

Anyway, multicolor-haired,, spent-eyed Johanne says one second that she doesn’t “even have a fucking job” and then describes herself as a business owner the next. She’s an ex-Marine, she says. I didn’t realize there were lady Marines. Are there? Or was there some sort of transition/reassignment backstory that went unsaid?

Hoorah.

Anyway, “princess” says she really doesn’t even want to get married. That it’s scary. She also belittles her manmeat-provider Ed. Poor guy. Poor guy 4 life.

“If I have to act like a raving, ranting, crazy bitch to get what I want on my wedding day, that is the way it’s going to be,” it says. “There is no bride like this. Don’t hate me because you ain’t me.”

Oh, little fear of that happening, Cpl. Jitsac.

She starts talking about feeding someone berries or something when she’s flipping out outside the bank since the wedding venue won’t take credit and her sister can’t seem to take enough loot out to cover the cost.

She also talks about making Ed suffer. I suspect there’s a gimp box in their humble abode but could be wrong. Well, no I couldn’t. There’s totally a gimp box in their humble abode. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

What there is wrong with is this: Going to the pawn shop to buy the cheapest ring she can get for her husband’s wedding band. “I don’t want him to have something too nice. He’s lucky to be walking down the aisle with me,” she said, before spending $200 and making note that she monitors his bank accounts so she knows he hasn’t bought one for her yet, so she’s going to buy herself one for $2,499. This is acceptable because “I am bling-bling.”

Johanne says Ed is “my property” and gets him a “property of” inkjob. She gets “100 percent certifiable” tattooed on her horrible-person “twat” while setting up a pre-wedding date with tattoo guy about whom she says “if there’s no penetration, it’s not cheating.” She might actually be a worse person than Tifani. There aren’t many people on earth about whom that can be said.