... to LyDee, as is evidenced by some shitty knock-off hip-hop beat. I hate how this show always introduces African-Americans like that. Anyway, LyDee is twenty-one, and Irvin, her fiancÃ©, is twenty-seven and a captain in the army. When they met, they were "gettin' down" at a military ball with their respective dates, when their eyes met from across the room. Irvin asked her to dance, and he really liked her "laid-back" attitude. After chatting it up a bit, and realizing they both had the same plans for marriage and children, they started dating. "LyDee had found an officer...and a gentleman." Fucking narrator. Two years later, Irvin proposed.
Now, LyDee is planning a "November wedding" with a Christmas-tinged theme. "My biggest fear would be that no one would show up." Apparently, she has cause for concern, because only seven of the twenty-five invitees to her bachelorette party actually showed. Dude, that's weak. Nice friends, LyDee.
Wait, what's that smell? It smells a bit like...the BZ climb-up! Noooooo!!! The narrator thinks that LyDee is a "hair-raising, scare-raising Bridezilla!" Who writes this absolute shit? It's so bad! This is really awful television! Let's get clippy with it: "I need you to get dressed fast!" "This is serious!" "Get this show on the road so my turn can come." "If I would have let go of everyone that pissed me off throughout this wedding preparation, then I would be walking down the aisle by myself." "Without me, there would be no wedding." Okay, now, taken alone, a lot of what she just said could certainly be construed as bitchy, or 'Zill-ish. But just wait.
Coming up, Regina's worried that there may be too many guests at her wedding, leading me to wonder whether most of her guests really are just coming for the hot breakfast.
Factzilla: "The average age of the first time bride in the U.S. is 27 years old." Wow.
We're back with Regina, who should really just go ahead and have the surgery that connects her cell phone to her head already. She's on the road, in the rain, on the phone. She's on the way to meet with the priest, Father Fehren. She starts riding the shoulder, like an asshole, because she's late. Naturally, she's giggling, also like an asshole. Narrator: "Regina may be laughing on the outside, but that because on the inside, she's about to come unhinged." "Unhinged"? Shut up. And, word. ["And: 'about to'?" -- Sars] After getting a last-minute RSVP, Regina gripes, "I don't get these people. How can people be so rude?" Well, you're the master. You tell us. "I don't have time to cater to these people. I should have them cater to me." Yeah, you'd like that. Shut your facehole, dickhead. And take off that corny-ass pink jacket. I hate that thing. You're not a tween. Get a clue.