Rules of Engagement
Now that I’m creeping closer and closer to the quarter-century mark, the "e-word" has begun to infiltrate my vernacular. Although I remain in a great relationship, I’m still a stalwart when it comes to succumbing to some damn church bells. And why is that? Well, on behalf of all my male friends who have tied (their dicks in) the knot, I’ve come to the conclusion that the entire process is completely biased. Therefore, in the spirit of evening the scales, I’ve come up with five changes to the system. They will henceforth be known as The Rules of Engagement.
1. The Jewelry
Ok the entire I - need - to - buy - you - a - ring - to - show - you - I - love - you shit is bogus. I said I love you and you either take that as the truth or shove a broomstick up your anus. But even if I felt like purchasing a ring on your behalf, I’d still be getting screwed over because you’re not obliged to buy me anything. Well, FUCK THAT NOISE.Where’s my half of the deal? If you want an engagement ring, I want something in return…and since I’m not a jewelry kind of guy, only one thing would be cool, functional, and a symbol of our love: an engagement battle-axe. Think about it: if you’re ever in trouble I could whip it out and save your ass (since you’re so fucking helpless and put yourself in stupid ass situations where I have to risk my well-being). Not only that, but I’d be using something YOU bought me to defend OUR honor and safety. That is a win-win situation if I ever could conceive of one. Honestly, has anyone ever wielded a battle-axe and not looked totally badass? And in said cases, have the women not totally swooned over the guy? There, I rest my case. You want an engagement ring, I want a battle-axe. Let’s make a deal sweetheart.
2. The Attire
Through osmosis, reality television, and word of mouth, it seems as if weddings have gone from a religious union of two people to a shameless attempt to flaunt the bride by any means necessary. Before we go any further, let me be clear: this is not some pitiful effort to steal the spotlight away from my soon-to-be wife. That being said, last time I checked, being engaged does in fact require two people—not just some schmuck to stand at the altar while his attention-starved fiancé saunters in during a 20-min procession batting her eyes and twirling her dress for all to see. Look, we’re all happy you finally have some self-confidence in your appearance, but it shouldn’t have to come at the cost of a small house. You see, I’ll be wearing a tuxedo and my buddies up there with me will most likely be renting theirs. On the other hand, you and your bridesmaids will not only have bought each of your dresses, but your gown alone will undoubtedly cost more than every other article of clothing combined. How is that fair? Even more to the point, how has it become more about your damn dress than us getting married? Basically, it’s almost to the point that the groom is interchangeable because he’s just background noise in the bride’s ego trip fashion fantasy. Therefore, I’ve decided that from here on out, marriages should be done only in jeans and t-shirts—preferably of the ripped and sopping wet variety. Honestly, ask any woman what they feel the most comfortable in. Now ask any guy what they’d prefer to wear and voila, fabric harmony.
3. The Food
In my opinion, this is the make or break segment of a wedding. I’ve been to my fair share of weddings and people tend to be happier and more sociable if they are well fed. Keeping that in mind, why is it every woman wants to have the most ornate and absurdly decorated foods for every guest? More to the point, why would I want to break the bank hiring some fancy caterer that will charge triple the rate because I can’t pronounce anything on the damn menu? For example, do you know what Duck Rilletes are? What about Crawfish Boulettes? Tell you what Mr. Caterer, if you just make a whole lot of tacos, ribs, buffalo chicken, and serve lots of beer, I promise not to set you on fire in front of the entire reception. Now as luck may have it, former WVU inbred Kevin Pittsnogle pretty much stole my idea when he recently married Mr. Ed’s second cousin once removed (apparently she responds to the name Katie). Anyways, not only did the lovely couple host their reception at a retirement home, they also raised the bar when it came to refreshments. Domino’s Pizza, macaroni and cheese, corn dogs, popcorn, and Big K soda graced the checkerboard tablecloths of those lucky enough to attend. On a related note (get it?), I heard this was the chariot that whisked them away to their Howard Johnsons honeymoon.
4. The Maid of Honor
I know it is our special day and it’s all about us up there on that altar, but for the love of God, nothing is more distracting than a smoking hot Maid of Honor. This is especially true since she represents everything we’re about to swear off for good. Think about it: she’s good looking, usually single, carefree, supportive, and looking to get totally drunk. Now I’m sure I’ll be kicking myself for saying this if I ever get married, but just for my own protection, make sure your maid of honor is deformed. I’m talking like centaur-level ugly too because desperate times call for desperate measures. I can’t be distracted all ogling titties when I have to be memorizing lines and officially retiring my penis from playing the field. So before I go put a gun in my mouth, please lessen the pain and suffering on my behalf and make the Maid of Honor some lazy-eyed, hairy Hobbit with the Great Wall of China for a forehead. Please.
5. The Bachelor Party
Just don’t ask me any questions about it and we’ll be all good. It’s my last foray into the world of single, carefree human beings and I’ll be damned if midgets, strippers, and four–legged animals can’t be a part of it. Also, any inside jokes made between men in reference to said event need not be explained. In addition, if you ever find any pictures that include one or more of the following, please disregard them: Gummi bears, whiffleball bats, ping pong balls, mustard, hockey sticks, inflatable dolls, dry ice, play-dough, super glue, blacklights, kazoos, sheep shears, pirate hats, beef jerky, Segways, Burger King crowns, alligator clamps, and/or Chimpanzees. Look, I’ll make you a deal: I won’t ask you about your feelings if you won’t ask me about my bachelor party. See? I care.
So there you have it, the 5 changes that will revolutionize the way we look at holy matrimony forever. Until then, stay single my friends. May your beds be filled with copious amounts of sex with different partners. May your fingers be free of any jewelry not associated with saving the Earth. And may the sound of church bells make you impotent and/or unfertile.
