Marrying Your Best Friend Is For People Who Had To Settle
Marrying your best friend is not what you think it means.
Marrying your best friend seems to maybe miss the point about best friends and really miss the point about sex.
Marrying your best friend is everywhere this summer. Like wedges and cucumber salads.
Marrying your best friend turns into people gushing over two elderly lovebirds in the park which is not sweetness but actually a form of thinly-veiled Generation Y prejudice and condescension against aging, as though once you’ve fucking lost all (cuz you have, old bones), it’s so cute you can still have each other, even though you’re going to die like yesterday.
Marrying your best friend belies a healthy sexual politics. Sex should be between co-conspirators, not flag-football buddies.
Marrying your best friend is weakness in the form of affirmation in the form of obvious-taunting-on-Facebook-to-the-exes-you-still-love.
Marrying your best friend is what people say when they have run out of things to say.
Marrying your best friend is code-talk for “I am too drunk and/or stupid to write a speech ahead of time.”
Marrying your best friend is the new Moms with short hair and Dads with beer guts.
Marrying your best friend is like farting near a fan.
Marrying your best friend is like taking my dog to the bar, but worse.
Marrying your best friend conflates “futon,” “sex,” and “video games” in the least imaginative ways.
Marrying your best friend gets dumber every time I hear it. And it started pretty dumb enough already.
Marrying your best friend sounds like it is probably illegal in Utah. Or everywhere but.
Marrying your best friend is for people who had to settle.
Marrying your best friend is sexism masking as female affirmation masking as “I’ll watch ESPN with you!” on Match.com profiles.
Marrying your best friend confirms high school truisms run our lives.
Marrying your best friend proves the revolution was televised. And it was just one channel. And that channel was all Jason Mraz all the time.