A friend of mine sent me a link to the SuperProposal. It’s the effort of some guy to get a corporate sponsor for his proposal to his girlfriend during the Superbowl.
The Goal – To Propose to My Girlfriend on National TV During the 2007 Superbowl in Miami
The guy wanted to raise enough money to buy an ad, and was asking for contributions, but only hit the $100k mark (versus a $2.5 million ad). So now he is hoping a corporation will help him out and he’s going to donate the dough already raised to charity. So he gets credit for this grand romantic gesture, and also gets credit for this grand philanthropic gesture.
On behalf of men everywhere that a) now feel inadequate for their own minor league proposal b) feel guilty because the most generous thing we have done lately is pre-order girl scout cookies, and c) also have to face a wife who says “why can’t you be more romantic like that guy”, I hope and pray that someone kicks this guy really hard in the junk.
That’s nothing. I’ve got a friend who brought his wife to a B&B in upstate NY near where she spent her summers, some remote place on the St. Lawrence river, built her a time capsule (seriously – like a metal tube), asked her to marry him, drove or hiked to an island that she loved the most as a kid, filled the time capasule with photos, memories, poems and other shit he wrote for her, and them buried the damn thing that same day. Of course he details this at his wedding where every other guy who ever proposed were made to look like complete and utter jackasses in front of their wives. Trust me he’s never lived it down to this day. We just give him the one word: “Time Capsule”.
If you, as a guy, have time enough on your hands to think up shit like that, and actually execute it, you need to have your man license revoked.
That kind of excess time should be sent drinking and doing stupid dangerous things that are likely to leave a scar.