I regularly read the bridal section of the Sunday paper and mock everyone's photos.

It's so merciless of me, but I look at most couples and think, "Hoo boy, what a mistake. You're ugly, she's a bimbo, and it'll be Divorce City in two years." I just love to look at the photos and wonder why those two are attracted to one another. Most of the time, the girl looks overdressed, too made-up, and is beaming maniacally while the guy looks like he's heading for the sofa and the vcr just as soon as he can. There's a lot of pretty women marrying ugly men, too. Sometimes a couple looks just right, and I do feel pleased to see them. But for the most part, I make scathing commentary about calling Love Cop to sort them out.

It doesn't stop there, either. I mock their choice of honeymoon destinations. Any of them who go to Branson, MO, Gatlinburg, TN, or Disneyworld are ruthlessly put down as being chumps. I don't care if that's what would make them happiest, it's my childish response to what I perceive as a vacation from hell. John hates it when I do this so I keep my cynicism to myself but internally I'm thinking, "For the same amount of money you could rent a beachside condo in Florida! Christ, what's with you people?" That's because my idea of vacation heaven is a lonely stretch of white sand beach, a cerulean blue ocean, and a warm breeze at sunset. Frankly, that's my idea of the way to live all the time.

Part of the shameful pleasure is criticising the way the women present themselves. I think it's grotesquely narcissistic when the photo is just of the female half. She always looks incredibly self-satisfied. "I'm getting married so eat your hearts out, Tiffany, Shwanda, and Jasmine," she's thinking as she smiles for the camera. I look at her and I just know she'll wear white to her second and third weddings. Petty, oh yes, I'm petty. But I can tell about them just from their photos.

That's what I like to think, anyway. In fact, I know you can't tell very much from a posed studio photograph. Everyone looks slightly stunned and smiley. I suppose the subtext is I'm scoffing at the very public announcement of what I perceive as a very private affair. I don't rationalize this behavior, though; it's purely and simply fun to make fun of people based on their looks. I could just as easily argue against my bad habit as for it, but I'll let others take care of that. Anyway, now you know one of my secret vices. Don't hate me for it too long.

And for god's sake, don't show me your wedding photos!

Addendum: alert reader Anita Rowland points us to the related must-see site And The Bride Wore.... In particular, see "What Were They Thinking?" Wickedly funny stuff.