Pamela Anderson Lee Anderson Lee Anderson Rock is evidently quite aghast at the "ugly" wedding photos snapped of her and her snazzy, sharp groom this past weekend in St. Tropez.
But really, now, what do you expect when you writhe about on the deck of a yacht, thirteen sheets to the wind, sucking down Champagne, Corona and cigars, wearing stupid hats, belly chains, filthy jeans, tiny sleazy bikinis that can barely contain her fleshy bits, white peep-toe stiletto heels (no doubt Jimmy Choo and leather, sorry PETA!), too many rings on Kid Rock (male hysteric diagnosis, check), going days without even the most basic, cursory hygiene and simply applying more liquid eyeliner, taking weaving parambulations about the quay with bodyguards (read: walkers who will keep you from face-planting in the sand) in tow, eyes half-mast at all time, slurring nonsensical things about "rocking the most..." what do you expect?
Do you expect that the paparazzi wouldn't want a picture or fifty of the filthy, slovenly, hot mess that is you and your ten minute marriage? Further, do you expect that since your body is basically a hazardous waste zone, and your face a sheen of puffy bilious sweat, and your liver obviously bloated and distended with alcohol that you're somehow not going to take an ugly picture?
Really, Kabbalah. Or $cientology.
(photo from I Don't Like You In That Way)