Woe is me! While my friends all enjoy connubial bless, I sit here alone on a Saturday night without even a date. Why I'm still unwed remains an inscrutable puzzle. So I've decided to use my blog to charm & lure potential brides since I can't afford to join an online dating site (as all my spare cash gets splurged feeding an incurable gambling habit).
About you:
My perfect woman? Well, beggars can't be choosers so my standards are quite relaxed. All X-X chromosome candidates considered. A mail-order bride might be nice, maybe a lovely foreign lass. Preferably a non-English speaker - the perfect excuse for never having to talk to her. Are you beautiful? It's ok if you're not that pretty. I'll just drink even more; you soon will be in my eyes. Are you rich? I'm unafraid to be showered with expensive gifts, but I aint marrying a scrooge. So if your wealth is tied up in shares and stocks, you better own numerous priceless possessions - the type easily hocked off at Cash Converters.
Conversely, I'm unfazed by your dirt-poor destitution. But let's first compare family trees as it's highly likley we're close relations. And please, no pestering with demands for cuddles or affectionate touching. Sweetie, I'm you're husband, not a masseur. Need someone to confide in, to share your innermost secrets? No problem, I've got a phone, you can yack to your friends all you like - just don't disturb me while I'm watching TV sport. All I ask is that you can shut our damn noisy kids up, or at least give them name tags so I know what to call them when cursing and swearing.
About me:
To be honest, I'm not the most industrious fella. But no woman wants a neglectful workaholic spending every waking moment at the office. So my sloth does have its upside. But who cares? I promise a life full of frolics - just like on TV. Anything you desire, just name your genre:
* Enjoy comedy? You'll laugh when you see my bank balance.
* A fan of crime stories? My probation officer will fill you in.
* Like horror movies? Don't worry, I'll soon introduce you to mother.
* Prefer steamy 'adult' tales of saucy, bed-hopping adventures. Just wait 'til you meet my sisters!
* Yearning for romance? I'm marrying you, aint I? Ya daffy twit.
* Perhaps a penchant for drama? Hey, I can assure you, life with me will be harrowing.
On bended knee...
So what's stopping us? Let's take the plunge & get hitched. I'm keen, but with one tiny proviso. I insist you wear a drab, gray, shapeless, non-descript gown down the aisle. Yes, I know that weddings are a momentous time for a bride; her occasion to be adorned in lavish refulgence. But it's my Big Day too! If I'm going to shine, resplendent in radiant attire, I don't want you upstaging me. C'mon now, you're about to ruin the rest of my life with your constant nagging and moaning - can't I have a single day of joy? Are you trying to sabotage my one fleeting moment of glory? Gee, you're quite a shallow, self-centred cow, aren't you? Cripes! We haven't even set a date yet and already I regret marrying you.
About you:
My perfect woman? Well, beggars can't be choosers so my standards are quite relaxed. All X-X chromosome candidates considered. A mail-order bride might be nice, maybe a lovely foreign lass. Preferably a non-English speaker - the perfect excuse for never having to talk to her. Are you beautiful? It's ok if you're not that pretty. I'll just drink even more; you soon will be in my eyes. Are you rich? I'm unafraid to be showered with expensive gifts, but I aint marrying a scrooge. So if your wealth is tied up in shares and stocks, you better own numerous priceless possessions - the type easily hocked off at Cash Converters.
Conversely, I'm unfazed by your dirt-poor destitution. But let's first compare family trees as it's highly likley we're close relations. And please, no pestering with demands for cuddles or affectionate touching. Sweetie, I'm you're husband, not a masseur. Need someone to confide in, to share your innermost secrets? No problem, I've got a phone, you can yack to your friends all you like - just don't disturb me while I'm watching TV sport. All I ask is that you can shut our damn noisy kids up, or at least give them name tags so I know what to call them when cursing and swearing.
About me:
To be honest, I'm not the most industrious fella. But no woman wants a neglectful workaholic spending every waking moment at the office. So my sloth does have its upside. But who cares? I promise a life full of frolics - just like on TV. Anything you desire, just name your genre:
* Enjoy comedy? You'll laugh when you see my bank balance.
* A fan of crime stories? My probation officer will fill you in.
* Like horror movies? Don't worry, I'll soon introduce you to mother.
* Prefer steamy 'adult' tales of saucy, bed-hopping adventures. Just wait 'til you meet my sisters!
* Yearning for romance? I'm marrying you, aint I? Ya daffy twit.
* Perhaps a penchant for drama? Hey, I can assure you, life with me will be harrowing.
On bended knee...
So what's stopping us? Let's take the plunge & get hitched. I'm keen, but with one tiny proviso. I insist you wear a drab, gray, shapeless, non-descript gown down the aisle. Yes, I know that weddings are a momentous time for a bride; her occasion to be adorned in lavish refulgence. But it's my Big Day too! If I'm going to shine, resplendent in radiant attire, I don't want you upstaging me. C'mon now, you're about to ruin the rest of my life with your constant nagging and moaning - can't I have a single day of joy? Are you trying to sabotage my one fleeting moment of glory? Gee, you're quite a shallow, self-centred cow, aren't you? Cripes! We haven't even set a date yet and already I regret marrying you.
2 comments:
Hey, Michelle here...
I just found your blog, and I have to say, you sound like a catch.
Do me you stud thang!
Ms. Rodriguez? Is that you?
Oh please, Please, PLEASE, let it be you!
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