10 Stupid Yet Funny Ways to Propose Marriage.

  I was going to post something about sandwiches, but Isobel’s MSN-ing me and we’ve thought up stupider topics (well Google has and she’s passed them on). So:

10 Stupid Yet Funny Ways to Propose Marriage

  • Over the telephone. What if the line was dodgy and you mis-heard? What if your credit ran out before they answered? What if the call was hacked and broadcast live on the Internet, and they said no?
  • Over text. Personally, I’d think they were joking. But then, some of the most serious conversations of my life have been over text. They would have been easier face-to-face though. When you’re in Greece and she’s in England, it’s really hard to read facial expressions.
  • By email. They might mistake it for chain mail or spam! They might never get back to you!
  • Via MSN. My connection’s always faulty, if it were me I might not even get the message. Person might not be who you think it is, it might be their little brother or wife or someone from Canada.
  • One of those aeroplane banner whatsits. Bloody difficult to read when the sun gets in your eyes. I know love is blind, but that’s stretching it a bit… Plus random members of the public might think it was for them. RIOTS could start.
  • On the big screen at a sporting event. I think they do this in America a lot. Downside is everyone can see if you say no. If you say yes when you want to say no – but can’t because all of Madison Square Garden is watching, you’ll end up with either a sham marriage or a broken-off-at-the-last-minute engagement, and you’d have to return the dress.
  • Live on TV. Hilary’s boyfriend did this on The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, I think. He proposed while on some local show she was watching, while bungee jumping from a plane. He didn’t land very well. In fact, he died.
  • In front of his/her entire family. Who have just been bitching about how you’re the rebound relationship from the guy who left her for a trapeze artist.
  • In the middle of a gunfight/the centre of a restaurant okay sorry. In the middle of a gunfight, air raid, terrorist attack, drugs bust, gas explosion, car crash or any other situation where you’re only asking because you think you’re both going to die soon. When you both live you’ll realise you’ve never even seen her before in your life, you mistook her for the girl who lives on the corner of your nan’s street.
  • Straight after she says “I’m pregnant.” Let’s face it, the kid would rather grow up in a stable single-parent household than one with two parents who resent one another and their child because the aftermath of that drinking game led to a moment of chivalry and a lifetime of affairs.

  While writing this I realised that today is my parents’ seventeenth wedding anniversary. Oddly, I do not know how they got engaged.

***EDIT 31/01/11***

  I was reading the comments and remembered the most stupid way to propose:

  Halfway up a chairlift/ski lift/normal lift, or on a long journey. If the person says no, you are in for one awkward ride.

Just a Thought, But…

  I don’t know what your school calls it, but at mine we occasionally have a lesson called Citizenship – universally known as ‘How to Treat Other People So ASBO Numbers Decrease, Making the Government Look Good at the Next Election’. For this event called Citizenship Week, my year have been divided up into groups, with a different group doing a different topical issue (my group is doing household waste. Don’t look at me like that, I wanted to do crimes against humanity).

 In the computer lesson today, a member of the group doing assisted suicide found a picture on Wikipedia of a woman with a brain tumour on her face. I know, ouch. They called down the row “It’s a woman with a brain tumour on her face!”

  This was when our teacher got pissy. Because we are discussing sensitive subjects and they can be hurtful to people and we should treat them with delicacy and she personally was offended by the comment…

  Oh, for God’s sake.

  We are supposed to be discussing current affairs. Assisted suicide is a topical issue – and if I had a brain tumour on my face, I might consider suicide the solitary way. Yes, some subjects are to be handled with care. Yes, people get offended when you accidentally make light of something dodgy that happened to them.

  But life is tough. Deal with it. In the real world, people say mean things and are probably perfectly aware of it. If you have put your foot in it, you apologise, wait for two seconds for the awkward silence to pass and change the subject. If a person is intentionally rude, you can either tell them and make them uncomfortable then walk away as they are losers, or just walk away.

  Pushing a topic under the carpet isn’t going to help anyone, is it? The more a matter is discussed openly, the more socially acceptable it becomes. Look at gay people. A few years ago they were talked of everywhere as people with diseases. Now there’s that Eastenders storyline and kids at school coming out for attention.

 If problems such as assisted suicide or brain tumours of the face are talked about, they will become common knowledge instead of taboo. Then maybe the issue can get solved.

  The point of Citizenship is to learn what it is to be a citizen. If an adult had yelled that comment, they would have been a jerk. Instead she was a teenage girl. If more people talked about painful themes without the fear of being politically incorrect, we might get a bit closer to preventing them.

  Happy Burns Night.

If This Pings Your Inbox As You Watch, It’s Way Past Your Bedtime.

  A chain email that is so excellent it should be published officially. By me, of course.

WORLD SURVEY BY PHONE 

Last month a world-wide survey was conducted by the UN.

The only question asked was: “Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?”

The survey was a huge failure because of the following:


1. In Eastern Europe they didn’t know what “honest” meant.
2. In Western Europe they didn’t know what “shortage” meant

3. In Africa they didn’t know what “food” meant.

4. In China they didn’t know what “opinion” meant.

5. In the Middle East they didn’t know what “solution” meant.

6. In South America they didn’t know what “please” meant.

7. In the USA they didn’t know what “the rest of the world” meant.

8. In  UK they hung up as soon as they heard the Indian accent.

  I know for a fact that number eight is true. Anyone out there from any other places, please let me know how accurate this is!

Asian People Love Golf. WHAT? Asian People Love Golf!

  If this was supposed to be an anti-drug video, it failed miserably.

  This, on the other hand…

  Credits to Ross for sending me the Smosh videos. What they do is what I aspire to, except with boys – so it’s funnier.

  Ross and Ellen also pointed me to these guys:

  If you didn’t twig that this post requires earphones when you saw the words ‘The Left Rights’… You deserve whatever parental lecture that’s going on as you hastily skim the last few lines and hit comment to tell us all what mum and dad said about lesbians and crack addicts.

“I think we should go and show Sarah; but I’m not actually wearing any trousers.”

  Good evening. Or is it the afternoon still? The clock says a quarter to five, but my curtains are shut. Discuss below.

  Anyway, here is the evidence of my weekend:

  There’s more, but I can’t get my mini SD card out of my phone to stick them on here. Also I can’t give away the reason Ellen, Isobel and I went out in the first place.

   I will say this, however: when leaving Costa Coffee, check all your Primark bags are with you. And if you want to buy a certificate 15 DVD in CEX but don’t carry identification, don’t bother. The lady at the counter will say, “Sorry we can’t serve you,” without looking up, then turn around and talk to a spotty teenager who works there on Saturdays.

  She will have karmic retribution though. Balance of the universe is something I wholeheartedly believe in. So will my Chemistry teacher when she sees that I have an A* in my module. That’s A*. Not D.

  Heheh.

I Only Have One Thing to Say:

  I don’t care what today’s date reads: 11th January, kindly go and fuck yourself.

  I’m too woozy to elaborate, sorry. Wait, except this: If I catch diphtheria, tetanus or polio now I will be majorly pissed and sue the NHS.

  Also that a copying error in a piece of work is not enough to warrant a D and most of the people I go to school with should be punched, hard, in the face.

  This includes some members of staff.

 Today’s post will most probably be deleted when I’m conscious enough to remember that twelve-year-olds read this and I am supposed to be setting an example.

  Actually it won’t, because there is a valuable lesson to be learnt from today: people suck. So do you. Deal with it.

  Bring on series two of Glee and August 7th.

This Time One Week Ago, I Was a Bat. Complete With Cave.

  I pause in my revising of ultrasound waves to talk about the first week back at school.

  Jesus H. Christ. How can a week only four days long go on forever????? If you answer that question, I will give you a million pounds. Or a guest-post explaining it. But – seriously – I don’t get it. Is it down to becoming nocturnal over Christmas? Eating too much over Christmas? Only watching Glee over Christmas?

  Saying that, Glee is pretty much the only thing I’ve watched this last week too. I still can’t work out if I like it (and I definitely turn the volume down when they start belting one out). Having watched several episodes, I have come to the conclusion that I am drawn to the show because it’s about a normal school with, like, boys, in it. I go to an overly stressy all-girls grammar with uniforms. Green uniforms.

  Glee is a parallel universe. Also I’ve always quite liked the idea of singing and/or dancing when I’m pissed off instead of stamping around, swearing and occasionally punching stuff/people. What can I say, I’m passive at heart. Plus one of the guys is becoming more and more attractive every episode.

  If you can get who out of me, you really can have a million pounds.

Viral Side Projekt

  There are two types of blog post. The planned ones, and the ‘I’m bored so I’ll talk and you’ll listen’ ones.

  This is the latter.

  Actually, I do have something to share.

  I love Mindless Self Indulgence. I don’t know all their songs because I’m too lazy to work out what ones I’ve heard and what ones I need to YouTube… That wasn’t even Mindless, anyway – it was Steve, Righ? and Jimmy Urine’s viral side-project, called The Left Rights. It’s, like, oh, Jimmy can explain.

  Warning: do not listen to MSI or The Left Rights if you are a delicate flower or if old(ish) people are in the room and you have no headphones. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR PARENTS YELLING AT YOU IF THEY CATCH YOU WATCHING THE LITTLE HARD ON’S VIDEO AND TELL YOU IT’S TOO MATURE.

  If Ellen and Isobel like this, I’m stealing Lauren’s speakers in Zante this year and playing it to her in the morning. That’ll stop her complaining about Na Na Na…