We asked Noel Biderman, the man behind one of the biggest online-dating sites for people seeking affairs, about his theories on adultery.
How to Actually Stop a Wedding
A couple days ago, a WikiHow article called “How to Stop a Wedding" went viral.
What drew everyone’s attention was the sheer insanity of the headline, but what made everyone share it on Facebook was the seemingly methodical and sober step-by-step approach it recommended, and the surprisingly competent artwork. On the surface, it seems like a sane, rational way to go about doing something totally insane and irrational.
Elysia Skye, owner of LA Wedding Woman, was the most experienced and trusted minister I could find on short notice, and she was surprisingly game to go through the manual step-by-step and provide an unsentimental critique.
VICE: How many times have you had someone bust in and break up a wedding?
Elysia Skye: None. My grandfather, my father, my sister, and myself are all officiants. In 40 years, and thousands and thousands of weddings, we’ve never seen an objection on the wedding day.
Can you criticize the procedure for me anyway, as an expert? You consider yourself an expert, right?
How about step 1?
I do like that the article reminds people that it’s not about you. It’s not your movie. It’s their movie.
What about the rest of the planning steps? Are they practical?
Even if phase one is discouraging them, the bride will probably say, “We’ve invested $100,000, and we’re not getting it back.” So go, “OK. Have the party. Just don’t sign the license. You’re not ready yet. Have the ceremony. Enjoy your day. Just don’t get legally married.” I’ve seen things like that.
Getting Drunk and Crying at One of Britain’s First Gay Weddings
How has it taken so long for gay wedding to become legal in the UK? Weddings are great; they’re an affirmation of our ability to love one another and a legitimate space for adults to do the Macarena. But for many, the passing of the law allowing gay couples to marry, which went into effect at midnight on Saturday, isn’t about weddings, it’s about the principle that gay people should be allowed to do everything that straight people can do—which should be a basic human right.
Sadly, it’s not. Being gay is still illegal in over 70 countries, and while the UK is making progress, a recent BBC survey found that a fifth of British people would turn down an invitation to a same-sex wedding. On Friday night, I went to one of the first gay weddings in the UK to find out what kind of fun these bigots are missing out on.
Beyoncé and Jay-Z, Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, or your parents?
Wanna Get Gay Married in Oklahoma? Be Part Indian
A Woman Was Denied a Marriage License Her Fiancé Can’t Say “I Do.”
A couple residing in the Winnebago County, Illinois was denied the right to get married. Colette Purifoy has been with her partner John Morris for 38 years now. They have children together and have been seeking a marriage license for the past six months. What’s stopping them? In the eyes of the law, John is unable to give his consent due to brain damage.
Cruising New York Magazine’sWedding Convention
With spring right around the corner and Facebook getting lit up with little, pink marriage equality icons—it’s clear that ~true love~ is in the air. So when I found out that this “boring” and “irrelevant” little rag called New York was throwing a big, fancy wedding convention, where hundreds of gay and straight couples stroll around planning their rosy, monogamous futures together—I decided to seize the opportunity. I attended the event last Thursday at the Metropolitan Pavilion to find out two specific things:
A) Why do people want to get married so fucking bad anyway?
And (more importantly),
B) How easy would it be to tempt someone to break those stupid vows?
Three Gothic Tales from Austin, Texas
by Amie and Clancy Martin
The Hotel San Jose
“I’ve stayed in this hotel at least 15 times. Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Clancy had shown me the video tour of our suite at the San Jose Hotel. It looked like The Hermosa in Scottsdale (except at The Hermosa, each guest has her own adobe casita). It looked like the Altis Belem in Lisbon (except the oceanfront Altis Belem is fancier and I prefer the San Jose’s APC.-style simplicity). It looked like Philip Stark’s hotel in Hong Kong, except the suites there are bigger, cleaner, and more stylish, with individual touches, like a beaded rocking chair from Africa, and the Stark boutique hotel has free breakfast, free snacks downstairs all day, and cocktails and cake in the afternoon.
When we checked in the staff was strangely surly. They acted like clerks used to act at cool record stores in the 90s.
“That’s the only problem with this place,” Clancy apologized. “They’ve always acted like that. But otherwise it’s great.”
We were in the largest suite but they couldn’t check us in for several hours. “Check-in,” they said, “is at three.” Apparently there is a great demand in Austin, Texas for $700-a-night suites. All four had been booked the previous night, according to the clerk in a newsboy hat, and none had been cleaned. He offered to hold our bags.
Things went from inauspicious to bad. It may come as a surprise, but when I get angry I go crazy. We were finally checked into our room at around five. That night, Clancy and I had the worst fight we’ve ever had. I broke the bottle of “Rainwater” that was provided free of charge. I shouted.
Two bearded, hipster security guards arrived. These two young men in black were in over their heads. Not knowing how to handle noise complaints (one said there had been four, and one said there had been six), they seemed to have come to our door thinking, “What would the officers on Cops do?” One had a Maglite. I sensed they were frustrated they couldn’t arrest me. I felt like they wanted to award Clancy, who gets quiet and—in his own words—exaggeratedly polite when he is angry, a Man of the Year Award.
The next morning a hotel manager called the room. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Clancy said that was fine, but that she would have to credit us for the second night’s stay. She said, “No, I won’t be able to do that.” He was firm. They met in the courtyard, next to a tiny black-slate wading pool and the little boutique where the Hotel San Jose sells Toms shoes and $25 neon-green flip-flops.
“I’ve had complaints. You’re going to have to leave,” she said.
Clancy said, “That’s the business you’re in. I’m sure we’re not the first couple to have a fight in this hotel. Are you married?”
She shook her head.
“Well, one day you will be, and then you’ll understand that married couples fight, and you can’t decide when and where you’re going to have a fight with your spouse.”
He returned to the room. “We’re staying.”
Things went from bad to worse. The entire staff had been gossiping about us. That was understandable, but the strange thing was that they wanted us to know it. No one would look us in the eye, except to express contempt.
“This is fun,” Clancy said. “I feel like the unpopular kid in high school again.”
The next morning we sat at Joe’s, the pleasant coffee shop owned by the hotel, located on the other side of the parking lot. We debated about whether or not we should write this review.
What can I say? It’s a boutique hotel, like any other. We behaved badly. But there’s a reason The Four Seasons, The Rosewood, The Mandarin, and my little places such as the ones mentioned at the opening send their future managers to The Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. While there, future managers work for a year, starting in housekeeping, or as busboys. It is because for a hotel to be good—let alone great—only one thing is required: courtesy.
All couples find themselves in a rut every now and then. It’s easy to take your spouse for granted, fall into a routine, and wind up neglecting the one you love. But marriage is like driving a nice Cadillac—if you take your hands off the wheel for too long, you’re eventually going to drive into a Mexican restaurant. Occasionally you need to shake things up. Spontaneity is the key.
Read the rest at Vice Magazine: www.viceland.com