Kimberly Stewart's Fake Wedding Venue To Have Paparazzi Dressed As Elvis
It's Day Three of This Week's Fake Engagement of the Century, and developments in the Kimberly Stewart-Talan Torriero impending nuptials are flying at us faster than $20 bills at a homeless man willing to humiliate himself for Paris Hilton's amusement. When last we posted, Stewart was flashing her five-carat engagement zirconia at a Microsoft video game system party. Page Six now tells us that the wedding is not to be some cliffside affair drowned out by the whir of helicopter blades in the distant future. For hot to trot Stewart, reality show husband sex can't happen soon enough:
KIMBERLY Stewart, 26, is in a hurry to marry Laguna Beach reality show star Talan Torriero, 19. They announced their engagement yesterday. "Talan's mother is hysterically crying. She is not happy," said a source. "They are getting their paperwork together to get married in Vegas this weekend. They want to do it right away" presumably before the passion fades. Stewart, daughter of rock legend Rod, just broke up with Girls Gone Wild creator Joe Francis. She was betrothed to Mischa Barton's new beau, Cisco Adler, earlier this year.
Ignoring for a moment the sweet temptation of commenting on the incestuous clusterfuck orgy of boldfaced boneheads that brought this item to a close, let us turn our attention instead to the remarkable similarities this story bears to the Quickie Marriage That Time Forgot, Nicky Hilton's ten-minute betrothal to some bald guy. That too took place in a Vegas chapel and seemed like nothing more than Paris' misguided attempt to beef up her sister's US Weekly coverage. (Of course, no one really cared or remembered Nicky is sort of like the Ford Escort of gossip targets.) Perhaps this sequel plan was hatched the night of the now infamous crash, in the Bentley itself, that rolling thinktank of attention whoredom's greatest minds. After much giggling and "do you really think we can get away with it?"s, we imagine Paris forcing all four to a pinkie swear of secrecy, seconds before the moment of impact.