The bride wore bright-orange safety netting and a belt fashioned from hazardous-material-warning ribbon. The groom wore reflective tape. The minister was dressed as Godzilla. In the middle of a performance by monstercore punk band Warning: Danger!, the guitarist and his girlfriend got married, and they're about to embark on a pub crawl.
"We've been around the block a million times and we're done with fucking strangers," the bride explains. Up to the last minute, their friends weren't sure they were witnessing an honest-to-God legal wedding ceremony, but the two hard-drinking firecrackers are officially man and wife, or, as the bride elaborates: "We're going to be total fucking whores for each other." With a passel of adoring friends in their corner and their similarly high tolerance for booze, those two crazy kids are gonna be just fine.
Drunky weddings weren't the only game in town this week: 200 people gathered in Fremont for the Zombie Walk, dressed as pirate zombies, swinger zombies, fisherman zombies, and at least a dozen zombies dressed as brides. A zombie woman expresses her distaste for the undead wedding wear: "If you're going to be a zombie bride, you need to have a zombie groom and a zombie maid of honor and zombie bridesmaids, otherwise it's just stupid. I'm a little obsessive about that." I totally agree with the dead lady: You don't half-ass a wedding. Like the Warning: Danger! couple, either you invest in the Godzilla costume for the officiant or you shouldn't bother getting married in the first place.
Want to complain about the gallons of zombie-smeared fake blood on the windows at your house party? E-mail the date, place, time, and party details to firstname.lastname@example.org.