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What? You're not a bridesmaid, you're the flower bitch.


Jenna: We need to find a way to tone this down. Suggestions?
Tamara: Put on a hat.
Jenna: What's that gonna do?
Tamara: Hide your face.

Wedding Planner: I pay cash.
Tamara: I am your slave!

Sadie: Where can I get ready?
Tamara: By the dumpster.
Sadie: That's sweet, but I don't have time for a tour of your home.

Tamara: Jesus, your mom documented high school like it was the best time of her life.
Jenna: And it was.
Jenna and Tamara: Sad.

No joke, Ben's your mom's Matty.


Ben's tactics were tacky, but so was my mother, so they were working.


I need to get out of here. Emily is so far up my butt I can taste her, and if that isn't craptastic enough I keep seeing Sadie and Ricky. They've been raping each others faces all night.


Gone were the secrets and heartache of my past. I was looking at my future.

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