Bitches and Proposals

I somehow ended up with a gaggle girls for lunch one day, and the topic turned to marriage proposals.

Bruh, some of these chicks want the world a ring on a silver platter. Seriously? Are you fucking me? Some of these hoes would be lucky to get married. Actually, no. Most of them had huge knockers, and that seems to be a good indicator of whether a chick will pass on her genes. Whatever man; it’s the way of the world, and I accept that.

Ideas ranged from beach sunsets with a 4 carat ring delivered by dolphins to having a flock of angels singing Highway to Hell bearing a Tiffany’s box… or at least that’s what I heard. It was probably more along the lines of a carriage ride through Central Park. My mind makes things more interesting when shit’s boring.

My buddy David proposed to his girl a while back. He was sitting on the sofa with his chick, watching Adult Swim, when he turned to her and said, “We should get married.”

“That’s REALLY how you’re gonna ask me? You don’t even have a ring…”

“Fine, I’ll ask you next week.”

Same shit happened, only this time she said yes. Smart girl. They had a courthouse wedding as per her request. He wanted to go skydiving into a volcano with everyone shooting machine guns downwards into the magma. No, my mind wasn’t off in Lala Land; fucker really said that’s how he wanted to marry her. If that’s not the wedding of the century, I don’t know what is.

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