Disclaimer: this blog is a work of (hopefully) comedic fiction. If any of the people mentioned herein object to the use of their names and/or likenesses, please let me know and I'll remove them. This blog does not constitute an actual marriage proposal... unless the answer is yes.
Ok, the other day when I was shopping for a wedding present, and consulting the bridal registry information, I became extremely jealous. I would really love for people to buy me lots of nice cookware. Bed Bath & Beyond rocks my socks.
Evidently, however, in order for this to happen, you have to find someone who you can legally promise to love until at least one of you dies. This act is called a wedding and it sort of ties your souls together, turning two individuals into one bank account and potentially ruining your credit score. Enough cynicism yet? Ok, I'll move on.
Seeing as how I would love to have a nice bunch of place settings, or a high-end food processor, it may be time to get hitched. Therefore, I formally extend that invitation to Miss Phoebe Strole.
For those of you who do not know, Miss Strole is a cast member of the hit musical Spring Awakening, which at the age of 24, makes her much more successful than I am. I saw her in this production several months ago, and enjoyed it very much. I have made mention of her in the past, I believe, but with the sudden onset of this quarter life crisis/desire for a nice saucepan, I think it's time to go to the next level.
That's not to say this is a cut and dried matter, no sir. First of all, she's a native of Texas. Many of you know how I feel about that. More importantly, the rumor that's come to my attention has her romantically linked with fellow cast member Jonathan B. Wright.
He plays Hanschen, the narcissistic homosexual classmate of Melchior and Moritz. This makes him, at 20 years old, also more successful than I am. I remain unintimidated. Lord knows I haven't the best track record with girls with boyfriends, but hope springs eternal.
Also, if I may be so bold, this man is completely wrong for you, Phoebe. He is clearly the result of a decades-long genetics project to replicate and enhance the gaiety of Michael York. Don't get me wrong, I love Michael York. He was D'Artagnon in the greatest version of The Three Musketeers ever filmed. I don't mean to demean Mr. York in any way, and neither do I know why so much time and money was spent on this cloning programme. But the pictures don't lie:
At the very least, you need someone whose cheekbones pay heed to the laws of physics. Someone clever, someone who looks like Spider-Man and can crush a can between his shoulder blades. So come on, Phoebe, get rid of that guy and let's get hitched. You know, we don't even have to rush to that. There will always be T-Fal. We're still young and have plenty of time to make life-altering mistakes.
You want to just go get a cup of coffee or something?