My quest
So I've just been told that there's no hope for a woman to get married after she turns 30. Seeing as how this came from my partner, I'm a bit skeptical, but all the same, I feel a little pressure. Ok, I feel a great amount of pressure. I only have a few days left before my personal doomsday. But because I'm an enterprising sorta girl, I've hastily devised a plan that will hopefully make a honest woman out of me. If you see any flaws, kindly do not inform me since this plan is already in motion.
- Get the Ball & Chain (B&C) out of the picture. This is easy since I can't remember where I last put her.
- "Coincidentally" run across the current woman of my dreams, aka THE CRUSH, asap. This is also a snap since I know where she works...mwhahahaha.
- That sounded more creepy than I meant it to be. Was it the pleasant laugh at the end of the sentence?
- Convince her to divorce her husband. I have some ideas of how to do this, but I could use some help on this step.
- Convince her to take a "spontaneous" roadtrip with me to Massachusetts. I'm not settling for any civil union, you hear me, Vermont?
- Have her sign some legally binding documents as we "tour" a "courthouse". This will be easy since English is not her first language.
- Voila, THE CRUSH will become THE WIFE and I'll be married and speaking French in the same sentence, all before I'm 30.
- Wow, am I efficient or what?
Next up: a more challenging challenge: babies and how to beat that biological clock!
Labels: Crush
« May 22, 2006 7:03 AM | Post a Comment »
4 comment(s):
said:
So this is what you do when I am out of the apartment for a mere 72 hours? You hatch nefarious plots to get rid of me (which you seem to have successfully done considering I'm on another continent....my your powers of mind control are rather impressive) and lure innocent, well-dressed short French women to Massachusettes (after disposing of her husband, of course...perhaps he too is now wandering the streets of Rio in a caipirhinia induced druken stupor, trying to remember where he misplaced his Frenchie wifey?)
Very well then. I shall be forced to find myself some rich carioca who will allow me to drink caipirinhias and live one block from the beach for the rest of my life. Or until she runs out of money to support my drunken ass.
yen said:
You talk too much. Get your own blog.
yen said:
Also, I had to censor your comments because...I CAN.
Also, I've made it to step #4. Massachusetts or bust!
said:
Good luck with step #4. You'll need it considering there's only one day left until all hope for you is lost.
Tick, tick, tick......
