Verlobung - Engagement

Why anyone would active seek marriage is one of the great mysteries of life. My life anyway. Perhaps I am overly jaded after being involved in a failed six-year-plus relationship, and holding an overriding feeling that love can never work and that all couples are phoneys who stay together solely to avoid a lonely, miserable death. Except of course that all death is miserable, lonely or not. In fact having nobody means less disappointment and grieving spread about your anguished survivors. And all of a sudden this reads more like a suicide note than a quirky, upbeat slice of Andy drivel, so I’ll bring about a sharp tonal shift to beat even the most uncomfortable GMTV tragic incest rape story to win a big fuck-off telly competition link. It is very sweet when people do decide to tie the knot - the excitement, the glee, the adorning parents and the thrilling prospect of a boozed-up weekend in some eastern European capital to prove to the world we’re a nation of idiots to be justifiably despised. I’ve written about this before, but it does depress me when wave after wave of pricks descend upon Tallinn, Riga and Prague to ‘show them how the British do it!’ or ‘teach them how to parrrrtieeeeeee!’. You expect that shit in holes like Ibiza and Ayia Nappa. Anyone who isn’t a complete bell-end, who goes on holiday without requiring a numbered polo shirt complete with hilarious nickname and number iron-transferred on the back, knows to avoid anywhere that fully saturated with cocks. But in cities as historical, arty and just oozing cool as in the Baltics and more southerly eastern Europe, you shouldn’t have to encounter so many groups of ignorant stag-wankers who are only there because Ryan Air run a cheap flight from Stansted. With any luck, the continued devaluation of the pound will help increase our overseas manufacturing sales, while simultaneously curb our most embarrassing export. They’ll instead consider simulating the experience at home by grabbing twenty crates of Stella, picking up a few STI-infested prostitutes and handful of banging Ministry of Sound shit-discs.