|Eater of Engagement Rings|
The Dumbass of the Day Award goes to a guy who was doing a wonderful thing, a life-changing thing, when he went from being a hopeless romantic into a dumbass in a matter of a couple of seconds.
John Iverson The Dumbass Who Shall Remain Nameless had a grand plan to propose to his girlfriend in Downtown Denver. All was going smotthly until “it” happened. Down on one knee, John Iverson The Dumbass Who Shall Remain Nameles, reached into his pocket to grab an engagement ring when he dropped it – down a sewer grate in the street! Dumbass. It gets better. The engagement ring was a family heirloom passed down the bride-to-be from her Mother! Do I hear a “dumbass” from the choir? Dumbass. I don’t know if I am the only one who thinks this way, but is this an omen of some kind that this would-be marriage is doomed before the loving couple even gets to the alter? Down the shitter as it were. Naaaaah.
The Denver Fire Department came to the rescue and retrieved the engagement from the sewer and the proposal went on, turds and all. OK, I made the “turds and all” stuff up, but the DFD did locate the ring after about 45 minutes of searching and handed the potential groom the ring plus several cigarette butts and a green turd that didn’t make it to the punchbowl. I made that part up too. There were no green turds or cig butts, but they did find the ring.
At this point, there a few questions I have. Did
John Iverson the Dumbass Who Shall Remain Nameless immediately put the ring on his beloved’s hand? Did she accept the proposal? Was the Dumbass Who Shall Remain Nameless drunk when he proposed? Did the Dumbass Who Shall Remain Nameless start a trend where grooms-to-be all over the country can get blasted , take their girlfriend to a sewer grate near them and “accidently” drop the ring into the sewer? These are just a few questions that demand answers from almost-engaged couples from every nook and cranny of our great country.
I am happy to report that the bride-to-be accepted the proposal and soon two dumbasses will be one. And I’m sure that they’ll produce enough little dumbassses that will keep these pages full of stories just like this one for generations to come. Lord help us all.