Old Wedding Photos Found Near A Garbage Can In An Alley Next To An Old Mattress

Full credit to my friend Sarah for being the first to link to what may an internet meme just waiting to explode. Each picture is so lovably goofy that one general sarcastic comment on the whole batch just wouldn't do. Nope --- this couple deserves to have their special day snarked as throughly as possible.



First, the happy couple. It appears as if through some warp in the space-time continuum, Pedro and Deb from Napoleon Dynamite were actually real people and got married 30 years in Southern California. Now, these pictures aren't really in order or anything, but since the next pic is of the actual wedding ceremony, does that mean that the bridge and groom walked each other down the aisle? That just doesn't seem to make sense --- this HAS to be from the reception. Timeline semantics aside, how awesome is the guy in the glasses? Even in the money shot of the happy couple entering, he still steals the show by looking directly at the camera. Forget about shooting an admiring glance like everyone else in the frame; this guy (heretofore known as 'Robert Evans' for obvious reasons) is ready for his close-up.



There are many different kissing techniques out there, and Groom Pedro is apparently a practitioner of either the 'engulf the kissee's face like a venus flytrap' motion or the 'cover their face with both hands so the attention is on you' technique last seen by Susan Sarandon's actress character on Friends.



"Ok, so we have mansion, apartment, house and shack. Now, for cars, I was thinking Lamborghini Countach, Corvette, Sedan and a bicycle with no seat. Any objections?" If they're not doing a MASH game, maybe they're working out the dowry. I love the idea of dowries; they should absolutely be brought back into the modern age. And to avoid charges of sexism, it could be easily adapted to the husband's family paying the price, depending on the situation. Let's be honest....almost any couple consists of one great catch and one person who can't believe his/her lucky stars.



Fresh from negotiating the dowry, the maid of honor (Annie Sullivan) tries to pose bride Helen Keller for a photo. If Helen could see, she would no doubt be aghast that her husband's best man is such a doofus.



Historians would later look back on this moment as the exact instant when the Electric Slide jumped the shark.



Good heavens, it's Abe Lincoln! And Mary Todd, who apparently wasn't nearly the looker that most history books said she was. I was apparently off on the date of this wedding by approximately 110 years.



Words fail me. This might be the best photo ever taken. Let's just say my computer has a new background screen. To further illustrate my point about every couple being made of a dominant and less-dominant (or 'lucky') partner, if either of these two were ever to end up in a couple, you'd better believe their families would be paying a dowry up the wazoo. I'll leave it for you to debate amongst yourselves who would pay the dowry if these two ended up being a gay couple.



Remember that Family Guy bit where Stewie has a job playing the tuba while following fat people around? I'm not sure why that jumped to mind here.



Oh man, the Abe experience gets even better --- he's the father of the bride! Somewhere, Steve Martin kicks himself for not making his character a former U.S. president.



One of these things just doesn't belong here. Ok, this best man is starting to piss me off. First his goofy ass can't even negotiate a proper dowry (I'm assuming). Now he ruins what would've otherwise been a perfectly rad photo of five stylin' people. Ok, the guy on the end is not totally stylin', but compared to the best man, he's Miles Davis. I'll bet during his best man speech he dropped his cue cards and/or told a bunch of inappropriate stories that all started with, "Ok, this one time, we were all soooooo drunk...."



It was all fun and games before the camera took their souls.



Do any of my readers have Wikipedia accounts? If so, could someone go into the article titled "The 1970's" and make this picture the lead image, please? Cheers.



Robert Evans returns! This guy is awesome. Here he is, at a wedding, hitting on the bride with a cig in one hand and a cup of booze in the other. He is 100 percent hitting on her, by the way. Just look at how he's perching his leg in order to aim his bulge in her direction. You can see she is fighting the urge to look down and is wringing her hands with worry over being so tempted by another man on her own wedding day. This is turning into a Harlequin novel before our very eyes.



Good news: the ladies were relieved to be saved from being chatted up by the guy in the plaid jacket.
Bad news: the ladies were saved by.....that guy. Suddenly, Plaid Jacket's story about his summer working at his uncle's pawn shop doesn't sound so dull.



They stood there for 40 minutes before someone pointed out that it wasn't an escalator. Abe's eyes are closed in an example of the blatant disregard for his own safety that make it so darn easy for John Wilkes Booth to bust a cap in his ass.



Not to be outdone by Robert Evans, the groom has some wedding day side action of his own. At the risk of spoiling the rest of the pictures for you, no photographic evidence exists that this wedding just devolved into an episode of Swingtown.



Jodie Foster and Samuel L. Jackson weren't sure why they had been sent back to the 70's (Ziggy was on the fritz and Al hadn't shown up yet), but all they knew was that if this wedding didn't go off as planned, western civilization as we know it would cease to be. And you know what the funny thing is? Due to the paradoxes of time travel, we wouldn't even know if they succeeded or not. Is your mind blown yet? Good, let's move on.



This guy looks like Will Ferrell dressed as Harry Caray, except someone punched Will just as soon as he left the makeup chair.



Pedro and Deb were initially very pleased to receive a suitcase full of gifts from Pedro's beloved grandmother. But later, when opening the presents, they were shocked to discover boxes and boxes of condoms.



"No, you're the schmoopiest!"
"No, YOU'RE the shmoopiest!"
"Honey, there's a 'c' in 'schmoopiest.' "
"Is there? To the dictionary!"
"God, your teeth are ugly."
"What?"
"Uh, I mean, YOU'RE the schmoopiest!"



The aftermath of the ceremonial best-two-of-three game of bloody knuckles between the bride and groom. The onlookers are stunned that the bride was able to continue after losing the first set in such devastating fashion.



When everyone told Frank they could see his lips moving, he grew a beard to try and obscure them. When that didn't work, he ditched the dummy and just got a live child. When that didn't work, he got two live children. When that didn't work, Frank turned to chronic masturbation. Ironically, his lips never moved during that, as he was too busy biting down on the ball gag.



Plaid Jacket's quest to hook up at this wedding has apparently struck gold! Sure, she has a babushka, but beggars can't be choosers. Unfortunately, their conversation was interrupted when a nearby bull caught a glance of Cindy Williams back there and charged. Plaid Jacket could've been a hero by distracting the bull, but instead he just soiled himself and ran away sobbing. On the bright side, people stopped calling him 'Plaid Jacket.' Then again, even that nickname was better than his new moniker of Two-Shades-Of-Brown-Pants.



Should I ever get married (and judging from this post, who wouldn't marry a man who would spend an hour writing witty comments about a stranger's 30-year-old wedding photos?), I'm doing to cut the cake with the most ridiculous looking sword that I can find. I'm talking like a cross between Highlander's sword, Excalibur and one of Wolverine's claws, except cranked up about 50 notches. Will such a weapon completely take the focus away from the actual cutting of the cake? Yes. But that's just as well, because there's no cake. See you later, suckers! *sound of feet running* *sound of door slamming* *sound of car engine and tires squealing*



Even though he's just married this woman, the groom still can't resist stealing a kiss while stuffing his new wife's face with cake. Auto-erotic cake asphyxiation claims the lives of over one American per year. Mmmmm, erotic cakes....



And we return to where we started, with the happy couple entering holy matrimony. What was the chain of events that led to their photos being found in the trash three decades later? Did the marriage end in divorce, and one or the other bitterly threw away these mementos of the special day? Or was it merely the work of a negligent guest, or a studio that was cleaning out its inventory? Whatever the answer may be, it's pretty clear that everyone needs to start dressing like it's the 1970's again. I call dibs on the Robert Evans glasses.