The news that Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley are to divorce is nowhere near as startling as the news that they were to marry in the first place. Had the rumours that a child was on the way proven to be true then that would’ve been a genuine jaw dropper. The first immaculate conception in almost two thousand years.

As those poet laureates of the carnal arts, The Sawdoctors, tell us, “There’s no accountin’ for lovin’ because we’re such a strange creation”. You don’t even have to be quite as strange a creation as either Wacko Jacko or the Tuamstone gang to agree with that. Cupid is no darts champion. He’s a drunken fairground archer with the shakes and a ropey sense of direction.

Like God and the bloke in the Guinness ad, desire moves in mysterious ways. A shy, spotty teenager whose sex life is so bad that for years he hasn’t even been ridden by guilt can suddenly and inexplicably become the apple of the local beauty queen’s eye. Equally, we’ve all seen wedding photos of blushing brides standing beside grooms who, quite frankly, have far more reason to blush.

Below, Hot Press extends early invitations to some of what will undoubtedly be the nuptial sensations of the year in 1995. At first glance, they might seem unlikely couplings but think of the odds you would’ve been given on a Neverland and Graceland merger only twelve months ago.

Behold the list of cooing twosomes. I now pronounce them men and wives. ‘Til death do they party.

Björk and Christie Hennessy.

A student of mere human nature, Björk will be unfamiliar with the likes of Christie who belongs to a completely different species. The chipmunk family to be precise. Together, however, these two will make beautiful music, as long she writes, produces and records it and he concentrates on the house work. But doesn’t the name Björk Hennessy have a lovely ring to it?

Alice Taylor and Quentin Tarantino.

Potentially, the power couple of the international entertainment industry. If there’s one thing that films like Reservoir Dogs lack, it’s bubbly blacksmiths, popular postmen and caring curates. Similarly, imagine the improvement if Harvey Keitel had been given a walk-on part in To School Through The Fields. Coming soon to a cinema near you: Taylor & Tarantino Present Pulpit Fiction, Quench The Lamp (With Blood) and Natural Born Tillers-The Ploughmen’s Tale.

Cher and An Ceann Comhairle Sean Treacy.

Just to see which of them wears the most flamboyant wedding dress.

Biddy from Glenroe and me.

Someone has to do something to stop this once entertaining show from grinding on any further with its repetitive storylines, hackneyed characters and 17th century haircuts. Perhaps, with Biddy tucked away in our connubial love nest, the writers might come up with more interesting plot ideas. How about decorating one of Miley’s sheds and allowing us to watch the paint dry for a half hour every Sunday night. It would certainly liven things up a bit. Anyway, if it doesn’t work out for Biddy and I, Lever Brothers will give me my money back.

Hugh Leonard and Jack Byrne.

This, as all students of great Irish literature will know, is one and the same person. Remember that clever stroke he pulled on The Late Late Show by telling Gerry Adams to call him Hugh when his real name is actually Jack. What a cunning polemicist, eh? Incidentally, Mr. Leonard/Byrne’s much avowed hatred of terrorism is all very well but he’s been associated with the odd thing that’s bombed himself. Who, for instance, can forget the atrocity that was Widow’s Peak? Now that Hugh and his alter ego are finally to wed, we can wish the happy couple well and tell him to go fuck himself.

Courtney Love and Paddy Moloney.

The marriage itself mightn’t last very long but the reception would be one hell of a hooley. Step we gaily on we go, heel and heel and toe for toe! Round the house and mind the dresser! Boil the Crack early!

Clare McKeon and a man with a performing penis.

There’s no grand design behind this piece of match-making, I simply think that we should give Clare a reason to stay at home more and encourage her to shut her god-damn mouth occasionally. A husband with a pantomime putz might just do the trick. At least it’s worth a shot.

Naomi Campbell and Fr. Brian D’Arcy.

Probably the only priest in Ireland who doesn’t get a shag at least now and again, Fr. Brian should settle down and make an honest woman of Naomi. Those of you who have to ask what a woman like Ms. Campbell has ever done to merit such a fate obviously haven’t read “her” “novel” Swan.

Chris De Burgh and Lorena Bobbitt.

Because they deserve each other.

Michelle Rocca and Van Morrison.

Sorry, that’s an absurd suggestion. I don’t know what came over me.