Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Or, the beholder, groans and loads his pipe with grass, softening the blow of waking up in Vegas wed to…her. She’s the shape of a pineapple, clad in a garish muumuu. Silvery locks fray from her bun, red lipstick smears her cheek (evidence of their romancing), bifocals dangle between her ample bosom. Her sagging support hose bottom out her bridal ensemble along with her chunky orthopedic shoes.