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Monday Late Nite: You’re the Air That I Breathe.

Oh, yes, dear readers, the much ballyhooed event finally came to pass on Saturday evening, in an outdoor wedding safely shielded from nasty, judgmental eyes by a full Secret Service detail and media blackout (so much for the "gutsy determination" of the paparazzi). Before an audience of 200 guests, Jenna Bush, the taller, blonder twin daughter, was handed over to the even taller, whiter Henry Hager for a life of connubial bliss . . . or at least a life of fabulous shopping opportunities, Tiffany martini shakers, Saturdays at the country club, Sunday dinners at Uncle Dick’s on Chesapeake Bay, vacations in Paraguay, and surprise drop-ins by "Uncle" Karl Rove.

And for those sentimental 28% holdouts whose invitations were . . . um . . . lost in the mail . . . yeah, that’s it . . . they had only their fertile imaginations and empty calendars to rely upon.

Even though you can’t see it, you can breathe the same air they are breathing,” said Mary Wood, who drove from San Antonio to spend the day in this small town [of Crawford]. “I just had to be here to say I was here for it.”

Mmmmkay. Here’s what you missed, Mary, while you busied yourself buying up the commemorative wedding tchotchkes in town. The bride wore a remarkably understated, embroidered Oscar de la Renta gown, sans veil or train. Her sister, the one who went to Yale and who served as her maid of honor, appeared to have misunderstood the instructions for wearing her "moonstone blue" dress. Label goes in the back, hon.

The mother of the bride assured an audience of Senate Spouses this morning that as the night wore on, the old biddies repaired to their rooms for their sitz baths, while the young ‘uns kept the party thumping, with "wild dancing until 3:00 a.m." No word on whether Karl Rove bumped and ground with David Gregory.

While the wedding went flawlessly (unless you count the fact that the weepy father of the bride was, in fact, the same man who has plunged the United States into a bottomless ravine and is officially the WORST. PRESIDENT. EVER!), it almost didn’t come to pass. Laura confided to the Senate Spouses that:

[W]e did have a little — one setback on Friday night. While we were off in another town at the rehearsal dinner there was a tornado. (Laughter.) So we had all the — all the catering ovens were turned over and the sides were ripped off the tent. But everyone worked wildly and you couldn’t even tell the next night. It was just perfect, everything was great.

Ha ha ha ha ha, a tornado! You’ll have to excuse Laura, folks. She’s still enjoying the effects of the double dose of Little Helper™ she took before the ceremony. No word on whether there were any injuries. You know, in the other areas caught in the tornado’s path. Not that they’re especially important. But I digress.

So, Mary and the others who now have full sets of "Jenna and Henry" coffee mugs for sale on eBay, I’m sorry if this disappoints you. It wasn’t a wedding full of pomp and circumstance, befitting royalty or even "America’s Sweetheart." (The HELL? I thought Dorothy Hamill was "America’s Sweetheart". I can’t keep up.) It was just another ritual celebrating a pair of rich kids opening a joint bank account.

Maybe now the media will focus on the thing that matters to this country — whether Jenna’s sister really is a lesbian.

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NYC-based aquatic feline that likes long walks on the beach, illuminating the hypocrisies of "family values" Republicans, and engaging in snarling snarkitude.