He is a dreamer, let us leave him.

early-onset-of-night:

I just saw a televised marriage proposal (TMP) tonight. It was typical: the guy yammering about finding his “soul mate”, tearing up, lower lip quivering. They bring the woman out. She’s all surprised. He gets down on his knees….

You know the story.

My fingers were crossed for a “No.” Alas!

She of course said “Yes.” They almost have to. Shit, she’s in front of God and everyone. Millions of overweight Americans are watching from their couches. Talk about pressure.

It would’ve been sweet if she turned him down, told him to get lost, or that she only “wants to be friends.” What would the poor sap do? Cry? “But I bought you a shiny rock! Hundreds of Africans were exploited for it! Come on, we’re soul mates!”

“Sorry, bub,” and off she goes, free as a bird, the luckiest woman in the world…

On the altar: I don’t, sorry, takes all the wedding gifts and leaves.