Awhile ago, I listed 10 things that chicks do not dig. You know what else we don’t dig? When our new husband compares our wedding to going through a McDonald’s drive-through. Timofey Mosgov, the last piece of the Carmelo Anthony trade puzzle, wanted to marry his fiancée, a woman named Alla, before she left for their native Russia. Like any good tourist, the couple seemed excited about exchanging their vows at a place where celebrities such as Frank Sinatra, Demi Moore, Bruce Willis, Britney Spears, and Michael Jordan were also married. Who wouldn’t want to build the foundation of their marriage on the very ground that led to Brit Brit’s annulment or one of Frank Sinatra’s four divorces or whatever? Romance was in the air, bitches. Like Alla, it is a fantasy of mine for the groom to wear a track suit to my wedding.
I assume that Timmy wanted to get married in such a hasty manner so that he can petition for Alla to join him in the United States on a more permanent basis. She was probably here on a visitor’s visa which is about to expire – getting married would ensure that she could return here in the not-distant future. That said, I feel badly for Timofey. First he got exiled from New York and shipped to Denver. Then he got married in a place infamous for its divorces. And now his wife is escaping to Russia. But really? None of that compares to being named by someone with a lisp.