Ha Ha just joshin‘ ya.
So, I know it’s been a while. Well, a couple days. Got engaged last weekend to the Amanda H I’ve been dating for the last 8 months. All of you pitiful non-men who read this and all you shixes who read this listen up because after I tell this tale you aren’t going to want anything less than this for you own proposal scenario.
First put on some White Stripes. Because that is what I’m listening to while I write this. The cool thing about the Stripes is there new stuff is just as good as their old stuff and vise versa…Word.
Ok. Down to the Biz, which is what we call ‘business’ in the Biz. Right.
First buy a ring. I saw buying a ring much like a gladiator of old might have looked at a rack of weapons, pre-fight. To continue with the gladiator analogy, I knew that if I walked into the ring with something too small I’d be killed. If I went in wielding something much too big for myself I knew I’d be killed. So I went shopping/researching. Learned up on some rocks. Got a little wiser about some metals. Decided that gold is WAY too common and rocks are expensive. Especially if they are good rocks. So, I figured that if going to my death anyway, I might as well go out in style. Fity-cent and Jay-z are always hollerin‘ about Platinum so I figured, “Hell, those cats are getting laid so it must be in the ice….” So, I went Plat, baby, Plat. I settled on a .35 of a carat diamond. I’m of the school of thought that if you are going to lay down the cheddar for a D-rock, I’m going smaller and purer rather than bigger and more flawed. I found a .35 carat D-rock that was one step down from flawless and cost just as much as a flawed 1.0 carat. So purer being better I purchased the .35. Not going to tell you how much I spent but if you must know call me or shoot me an email.
So I get the ring at the beginning of last week and decided that I’m gonna do it that weekend. So, we hang-out Friday night at the In-Lawyers, having a 5 hour, alcohol induced Cranium-fest, me and girl-wonder against her mum and dad. We beat them with time to spare. I decide that Saturday night is the night.
We go out to a wing place in Snead’s Ferry that her dad said would undoubtedly give us the loose-poop…yuk…but we go there anyway and I’m sitting there eating onion-rings and wings with my Plat, D-rock in my pocket waiting for the moment. We finish, I pay, were walking out to the VR6, and I open her door, she gets in and I drop to my knee. Toothpick in mouth, her hand in mine and I ask her to marry me. She thought I was joking. I know that because she said “Are you serious?” I pulled out the ring and said “Do I look like I’m joking? Does this look like a joke?” She screamed, literally, screamed. Fortunately she and I were the only ones out there. Because had there been other’s they would have thought that I was attacking her. She said yes and now we are officially engaged.
Stop weeping. I know it’s a classic, heartwarming tale. I’m sending in the screenplay to MGM. So that’s pretty much what’s new. Thanks for reading.