I have found it. Click on that link, and you will see my new destination. I am packing as we speak. Then all I have to do is find a fish, or build a house. Then bam—married.
Way easier than filling out the 27 page form. Way easier than actually trying to smile through a decade worth of “I’m not ready” and “in the span of human history, we haven’t been together that long” conversations.
Hell, no. Instead, here I will be revered. Note this very wise person– “The choice of a woman is much more stable”.
Now.. I don’t cook. Once again, I am hindered by not embracing the whole Betty Crocker thing. Not to be deterred. I can build a house. There is nothing in this article that indicates it has to a house that will stand for life. It only has to be there long enough for me to get the dude over the threshold. I can do that.
Quick question—leaning a couple of palm trees toward each other in a tent-like structure counts as a house, right?
I’ve got a plane to catch… just as soon as I figure out how to get cable hooked up into the palm tree house.