Friday, April 4, 2014

"I now pronounce you man and...uh-oh..."

I almost married Idris Elba!!! Almost............ Soooooo, I am fortunate enough to have seriously motion picture quality dreams every night. Big, huge Hollywood worthy productions in my sleeping mind...featuring all of my friends in the crazy roles in which I've cast them. But apparently, 3 years of insomnia plus a double dose of Nyquil produces a whole different type of cinematographic experience. In a production that would overshadow Tyler Perry's work in a heartbeat, I've moved to a whole new level of nocturnal cinema-making. Tonight's production features an all-celebrity cast, so unfortunately, there will be no NiteLite Awards for my personal celebrity buddies (sorry guys...)............. My sister (Kerry Washington) and I had always been close (I mean, I guess, I'd only been asleep for about an hour), until a rift over my blue-collar fiancee (Idris Elba) caused us not to communicate for years. Being the successful Washington D.C. power attorney that she was, she didn't like the fact that an auto mechanic would be joining us at the Thanksgiving table (snob). As the wedding day approached, we mended fences and began to be sisters again. I asked her to be my maid of honor, and all was well............ Then, on the way to our father (Morgan Freeman)'s funeral in Atlanta, my sister (who apparently didn't have a name) confessed to me that her disdain for my love was a ruse to cover up her affair with my fiancée (also nameless). She wanted me to hate him so I'd break up with him and she could have him. Even though she and I hadn't spoken for years, she had been seeing him all along. Of course this caused me to run, hide, and cry behind the American Airlines ticket counter. Eventually, I was found by my nameless fiancée's nameless brother (portrayed brilliantly by Terry Crews) and his wife (the stunning Nia Long), who convinced me to marry Idris anyway............ Cut to the wedding day...I'm in the basement of a filthy motel (which happens to overlook a fabulously manicured golf course where the wedding will soon take place) getting my hair done by Kim Fields, eating Chik-Fil-A in my wedding dress, when we hear police sirens zooming past us in the direction of the makeshift altar. We run up the steep stone steps into the Wal-Mart, where I take a few minutes to return the baby boxer briefs that I purchased in 4T instead of 3T, and purchase several nightgowns (in the style we used to purchase for my grandmother) and a milkshake. Then, Oprah (my mother?? She was at the basement hair salon too) and I are running through the airport (the same airport) to find out what happened at the golf course altar. When we get there, it's no longer a golf course, but a Panera that's been beautifully decorated for the nuptuals of Mr. Nameless and I. My nameless finacee is laying in a pool of blood, and all of the wedding guests are just sipping lattes, standing around looking at him. I order a cinnamon crunch scone, and try to revive my love (by feeding him said scone), but to no avail...he's gone. I look up. Terry Crews, Nia Long, and Kerry Washington are all smiling a satisfied "I did it" smile at me...so I do what any, normal not-quite-widow in a wedding dress with a scone would do...I play a game of Candy Crush and decide that it would be better to marry Elton John anyway............ Sequel??? I wish............ Now, someone call Tyler Perry!!!