Dreadful Nonsense

Something's been happening to a lot of our friends recently.

Let me explain: We, between us, know a lot of couples. No, wait. That's not strictly true. He Who Only... knows a lot of couples. A really lot. Lots and lots. In fact, I think all of He Who Only...'s friends are in couples. Let me just consider that for a moment.

...

Yep. Pretty much every last damned person that has the fortune to come into contact with He Who Only... is spliced to another person with whom they occasionally bump uglies.

It's a beautiful thing, really. And rather to be expected, at our age. Most people at our age tends to be connected to another person of our age. It's certainly not unusual.

What's been happening recently, though, is that these couples, these sets of two people who like each other quite a deal, a lot of them have decided quite recently that sharing a last name is the next cool thing to do. And so we've got a lot of weddings coming up.

And I freaking love weddings. Weddings, to me, mean (a) the opportunity to buy a new dress; (b) the opportunity to buy new shoes; (c) the opportunity to cry with joy in public; and (d) the opportunity to get pissed and dance to songs from the 1980s, all in the full view of someone's Granny.

The thing is, now we've suddenly found all eyes turning to us. Like the zombies in every zombie movie that's ever been made, everyone wants us to join their gang, and we've now become the Next Assigned Couple To Do "It".

And so we've come to an agreement - We have agreed to remain Unmarried for At Least the next Twelve Months. This allows He Who Only... to make as many disparaging remarks about the institutionality of marriage, the state designated, Orwellian structure in which to keep the plebs quiet and under control, and I can point at white, shiny things and coo without either of us thinking that the other one is trying to make a point.

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