Her: I did something bad today.
Me:...What?
Her: I went shopping.
Me:...And?
Her: I spent $XXX.
Me (laughing):...What the hell did you buy for that much money?
Her: Two pairs of jeans and six pairs of shoes.
Me(laughing harder, because crying is not an option): What are you going to do; go barefoot on Sunday?

I laughed until I got in the shower and then I cried, so the water would hide my tears. Tears of hysterical laughter mind you, but tears nonetheless. She wants to take our seperate bank accounts and put them together in one account when we get married. I guess she thinks if we pool our resources we can really take advantage of the investment goldmine that is the Women's Accessories department at Dilliards.

Posted by: shank at 04:25 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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Wedding invitations are by far the most infuriating waste of money on the face of this Earth. They're like hundreds and hundreds of dollars!

The entire design is completely retarded. Firstly, you put the invitation in an envelope right. Then, you put this thingie into another envelope, along with this stupid card and another fricken envelope! What the hell people?

I mean, when I was a kid the local skating rink used to host birthday parties. If you had your party there, the rink would send these little postcard invites to all your little crumb-snatching, rugrat friends. It doesn't really take three fucking envelopes and three sheets of paper to invite someone to a shindig am I right? Or email. Why can't we just send a mass email to everyone, and have them RSVP?

Well, apparently women are insane. Did you know when they're little girls they starts planning and thinking about their wedding? Like how they want it to be and all that? Okay, show of hands, how many of the men here ever thought about what kind of cake they wanted at their wedding say, more than a year before they got married? Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean, I don't even know what I'm going to wear each day until I get up, and the women are planning this wedding thing like decades in advance. The only thing I've ever planned more than a year in advance was a car loan or a mortgage. And I only did that because I had to.

So in the end, I've concluded what every married man already knew: You can't fight 'em on anything. A logical appeal doesn't register when they've spent years living their wedding day in their minds, yapping it up with other women about how they're getting married. It's like a fucking cult man; and my fiancee is only a fraction of the freak that some of these other women are. I agree with her, and count my blessings that she's not completely lost her mind.

Posted by: Id at 05:23 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
Post contains 342 words, total size 2 kb.