Eat Your Heart Out

I think this might be the most fantastic thing I've ever seen.

Taking the celebration of a couple's love to the next level, no, the next stratosphere, here we have a monument to the bride in all her sugary, gum-pasted glory, offering herself up to be admired, adored and devoured by plastic cutlery-wielding wedding guests. When they cut the cake, which end do the guests eat? I'd like some bosom, please? Or how about the bride's clavicle? What was the thought process that went into this? Is there a groom's equivalent? Mini cupcake-size grooms to encircle her feet?

Oh groom-shroom. Who are we kidding? This is not a bride afraid to announce to the world what we all know but few will readily admit - this is about ME, GLORIOUS ME! How can one not bow in sheer awe before such a monument to narcissistic, orgiastic self-love? And as my friend Stacey pointed out, it'll be one hell of an anniversary when they celebrate their love by collecting the bride's head from the freezer and eat it. I think mine might explode from the sheer volume of biblical, anthropological, medical and literary references one could infer from such a culinary feat.

I think I'm just gonna stare at it some more.