A few days ago, an entire orchestra of sad trombones blared on the news that Kanye West was never ever going to marry Kim Kardashian. Like, ever.
But the tabloids might want to put a stop payment on those checks they gave their “exclusive inside sources” because hey, guess what? Kanye and Kim are engaged now. For realsies.
In events documented by E! (which should really just change its name to K! already), Kanye supposedly asked Kris Jenner for Kim’s hand in marriage, causing her to produce a machete, hack off her daughter’s hand and have it boxed for Kanye at Tiffany because MAMA NEEDS RATINGS.
So last night — Kim’s 33rd birthday — Kanye sullied my adopted hometown of San Francisco by renting out AT&T Park, flashing “PLEEEASE MARRY MEEE!!!” on the score board, and dropping to one knee to pop the question with a 15-carat ring as a 50-piece band played.
When she said “yes” (because as a twice-divorced single mother in her 30s with a porno in her past and a dying reality franchise, it’s not like she’s gonna get a better offer), fireworks went off and her friends and family poured out of the dugouts.
Good thing Kanye’s been teaching Kim all about the value of privacy. Imagine what a bombastic shitshow this would’ve been otherwise.