Bridal Must Haves

...an expression as passive-agreesive as "please advise", MUST HAVES is the latest aggravating bridal expression no doubt coined by all the fucking wedding rags that fill brides heads with deluded, unattainable dreams.

You know - you'll get that email with something like, "...and these are my photo 'must-haves' :) " with that mutha-fucking smiley face to diffuse the point that she knows how damn cunty she's being. But I suppose putting it in quotes diminishes the bitchiness somehow.

There are a LOT of things I MUST HAVE--just a few of which are listed here:

1. a pretty bride
2. a dress i haven't seen 20 other weekends
3. a dress that has been properly altered so you're not pulling up your tits all night long
4. flowers that are actually interesting and not from a grocery store
5. bridesmaids that FIT in their dress
6. a bridesmaid group MINUS the inevitable 'sad fat one'
7. kids that fucking behave
8. a wedding party with under 23 people in it
9. a DECENT room to photograph getting ready shot in, that actually has a window and this interesting thing called 'light'
10. a priest thats not a fucking dickhead
11. a church that is lit more than with 5 votive candles
12. groomsmen that are not all drunken douches
13. groomsmen who won't call me 'photo guy'
14. less than an hour drive between venues
15. a wedding someplace that is not a wedding factory
16. a wedding that has actual creative thought put into it, of which mirrors on the tables with sprinkled rose petals do not count
17. enough time for formals
18. did i mention an attractive couple?
19. howz about a meal at some point (thats whole other story)
20. to not be tapped on the shoulder all night being asked "HEY!!! Take THIS picture!!!"
21. less than a 12 hour day as really, lets face it, your wedding and you are not all THAT interesting.

Oh---surely I could go one forever, but Brides Of America--consider these demands before you ask me for your fucking Must Haves. March right into the bathroom and throw out all those stupid old copies of Modern Bride right now...your head is already filled with enough stupidity.

"It's Christmas - come work for us!"

At times it's hard to believe how obnoxious people are with their expectations and lack of consideration for any 'life' you might have out of photographing their fucking events. Aside from a bride wanting to stop by after Thanksgiving to 'discuss photo options' for her fucking 2012 wedding (REALLY?? are you bringing me a dessert? Its not until next summer and you need to interrupt MY weekend with your asinine 'thoughts' all stolen from The Knot?), the latest offense is one of wanting photos done Christmas Eve.

Now I don't know about YOU, but i'm usually VERY busy Xmas Eve. Generally I wake up around noon next to an empty bottle of scotch, masturbate onto the christmas the to mimic new fallen snow, then dress up as Santa and go to the mall food court, where I drop my pants and await the arrival of security. Why? FOR ATTENTION obviously, because I have NOTHING THE FUCK ELSE TO DO. Except--oh! yes...photograph your greasy, baloon head family on a holiday. Though apparently I am the only one who sees that day as part of the holiday.

I will come over there so fast, snatch that menorah out of your twat and slap you across the face with it you selfish cunt. How about I arrive at about 2 am, as that's convenient for ME. Are there any other ways I may serve you, your Highness? I'll bet you also expect the images up online by Christmas morning so everyone can look at them for 2 minutes and then never order anything. I'll get right on that.

You know what else i'm getting right on?

NOT calling you back...

It's 9-11!!! Can I have a discount, please?

Yeah I'll say it -

there are brides who book their wedding on 9-11 and think they are entitled to a fucking discount. As one photographer told me, it was suggested that "…due to what happened that day," that she was entitled to a break in the cost.

I am appalled. Like--nauseous appalled.

Any bride who freely chooses that day and then expects a discount, is a fucking hillbilly trash-cunt whore, who deserves to drop dead that day right on the altar. How DARE you choose a day that day which is so raw--so fresh ... such an open wound for the ENTIRE country and then try and milk it for a deal. Have you no dignity, sitting home in your pajama-jeans planning your ass-wipe, discount based wedding? What kind of low-life would do that? Do you think you really are that important because you chose some matching poly-blend table linens and ordered a dry wedding cake that no one will remember, after they gag on it and chase it with warm coffee while they all stare bewildered at your cheapo Christmas Tree Shop 'gift' they all received at their place setting?

You wanna choose that day- fine. No problem. ASK FOR A BREAK however…NOT SO FINE. I cannot wrap my head around that concept. Oh wait: because YOUR wedding is the most important of them all, and people jumped to their deaths and 2000+ people DIED you should get a price break.

Are you totally mental? You have 52 weeks in the year, with 2 days in each weekend. How about you pick on of the OTHER 103 dates that happen to not fall on a national tragedy to have your special, stupid muthafucking day. You are not that special, really.

There are days like this, where I would like to get on a spaceship and leave this planet for good.

Kindly Get The Fuck Out Of My Way

You know what I DON'T need? Here's the short list: fucking limo fucking drivers, and church fucking coordinators in my fucking photos.

Stumpy, sausage-fingered 'Soprano' leftovers who feel the need to 'assist' the bride out of the limo (even though her dad is standing right there and fully capable of opening a car door) Did it ever occur to you that by you hovering around the bride in your poly-blend one-size-too-small plastic looking tux that you haven't dry cleaned in a month, that you are in all of her photos? Her memories? You are now PART of her special fucking day, in a way she had not counted on? Why do you think that's ok, you bloated douche tube? Do I photo bomb your summertime Mafia-themed Coors Light-manicoti filled home parties?

I think not.

Go the fuck away and - - - OH!!! HERE'S an idea: learn the directions to all the locations and be on fucking time. How about THAT rather than you lingering around holding the back of the dress. Maybe you didn't notice genius, but there's 16 bridesmaids with their fingers up their pussies just DYING for something to do. I know it's 'always a bridesmaid never a bride', but back off Luigi: YOUR special day will come sooner or later, and I hope I can stand around all sweaty and gross in the background of your shots.

And PS - NO: I do NOT want to have you set up a fucking staged champagne toast on your mini-godamn red carpet. Don't do me any favors, seriously. Check your datebook dickhead: it's not 1989.

And as for the ever-delightful church coordinators: those enchanting women who have not been fucked in 19 years who's job it is now to boss around the bridal party and any wedding professionals that may enter their Holy sanctum. They take their job VERY seriously as after all, God himself is watching them.

But do you know what God hates as much as I do? YOU STANDING IN THE FUCKING AISLE BEHIND THE BRIDE WHILE THE BRIDE WALKS DOWN TO THE ALTAR!!!! Why do I want to look at you in your frumpy schmata housedress behind my beautiful bride? WHY WHY WHY??? The same goes for clueless wedding planners - who equally believe that mystical powers are in full force during a wedding as their hide behind their magic "invisibility-shield" Staples clipboard. Somebody call Batman: even HE didn't figure THAT one out.

Guess what you old cunt: I can see your ancient ass, standing there as you watch the bride walk down the aisle - that permanent sourpuss affixed to your face as you think to yourself each and every Saturday, "Why have I NEVER found a man? Why can't I BE loved?" I'll tell you why- it's because you're sour, miserable, cunty and smell vaguely of mothballs.

Now get the FUCK out of my shot and go in back to see which altar boy the priest is mistreating...

Nasty-Ass consultation

• The couple arrive.
• They don't look you in the eye.
• Before you can begin your spiel they start talking about this and that.
• He is yawning.
• She still won't make eye contact.
• She looks like a horse.
• You begin to try and answer a question.
• Mid sentence, you get interrupted.
• That happens numerous times.
• They ask a completely unrelated question.
• Moments later they say how you haven't answered the last question.
• You try to do that.
• He says something unrelated once again.
• She responds to him.
• They go into their own mini conversation.
• They finally remember you are in the room, look back at you and you start to answer.
• They cut you off with another random question.
• They inform you how organized they are.
• The notes are written on a crumbled sheet of paper.
• Your blood pressure rises.
• They start talking about photos.
• They infer that there are special people they want photos taken of.
• They do not want groups, just want me aware of who is who.
• 'How will you know them?" they question.
• You briefly consider making a joke about learning telepathy before their wedding day but bite your tongue.
• They tell you how they "...don't want many formals but HIS side of the family is huge and they will need a photo of all of them."
• "OH - and we will need multiple groups on my side as well."
• But they do not want many formals, you see.
• They ask if you can get all the formals completed in 30 minutes so they can attend their cocktail hour.
• You tell them they are fucking bat-shit crazy.
• They once again proclaim their love for their butthole venue, then mention how "the view is not that great and there seems to be no where to take nice photos."
• Yet they adore their venue.
• Super fantastic, you think. A picture-perfect perfection.
• The venue is under construction.
• There is mud all around.
• She is worried.
• Yet they ADORE their venue.
• They wonder how you will handle that.
• You try to answer, they briefly smile politely and then suddenly ask about albums.
• They suggest they can do their own on Shutterfly.
• They disagree as to which parent will want what type of album.
• This goes on and on for an hour.
• He yawns even wider and she starts looking more like My not-so-Pretty Pony.
• You are hating them.
• No-REALLY: you hate them.
• You want them out of your studio.
• You hope their 'perfect' venue burns down.
• You hope she slips on aforementioned mud and breaks her boney-ass horse hip the morning of the wedding.
• being an equine, she then then need to be shot.
• You hope he cheats on her and brings the pregnant girlfriend to the wedding the day of and ruins everything.
• You really, really, really really hope they would die, right here- right now in front of you.
• Just keel over dead so you could bury them in the back yard, as no one would miss these 2 fucking pests.
• another super-duper day at the office.

You Can Go Home Now

....so im at a wedding recently, and the bride told me multiple times in advance that she wanted to get formals over fast as she wanted to get to the cocktail hour. We were at this wedding factory in New jersey which was located in a corporate park, so you KNEW right off you were in for a special treat. Nothing says 'matrimony' more than a facility next to faceless commercial buildings and chain hotels.

So we're not at the place 2 minutes and the staff start asking where we wanna shoot. I thought they were being helpful at first, but it suddenly became pushy. We had about 45 minutes to shoot but they were still breathing down our backs. That starts the night off REALLY wrong - wedding venue people ---give the photogs a CHANCE to scope out the venue if they haven't been there, for fucks sake.

Anyway, I took the dullest, most inspiration-sucking photos ever against some fucking drapes, and grabbed a few outside on some cheesy-ass Grande balcony. Completely uninspiring. I said, right on time when she wanted to finish I might add, "OK - we're all done." and she thanked me and said, "GREAT, now I can go to the cocktail hour..." A groomsman then comments and hits it on the head and says to the bride right in front of me, "I can tell how "important" the photos are to you! hahahahaha!" Wow---very funny. Laugh riot.

the night just keeps getting better.

Afterwards - the guy who was pushing me to choose a locale came up to me and said - "Well that was easy!!"

I said, "it WAS?"

He says, "Well nothing else is happening tonight---no formalities. She really wanted those shots done fast, and told me to tell when when it was a quarter after, since she was going to stop whatever you were doing and go to the cocktail hour."

"She WAS?" I said.

"Oh yeah I guess so, " he continued, "...she wasn't even interested in hiring a photographer..but her mother made her."

great---I felt SO glad to be there, and really gave it my all the rest of the night. I mean seriously? Talk about just working for a paycheck. Look, I know full well not every wedding is magazine worthy and people place different levels of importance on different things, but to find out she really didn't even WANT you there just fucking sucks. And so to see the huge amount of guests (200+) the quality and quantity of the food (lobster, crab legs, sushi bar and oysters at cocktail hour...) and know you were of little importance is just depressing. I just kinda tuned out, hit the camera button mindlessly and waited for the shit to end to get the fuck out of there.

A shitty start to fucking 2011...