Sunday, October 25, 2009

Christ on a Bike

I'm marrying a mad Welsh bint who couldn't even be bothered to have breast enlargements.

What can you do? It's 20 years too late, but we've been making up for lost time. There is no pre nuptial agreement in place: instead we have agreed to add a codicil to our respective wills to ensure that if either of are run over by a bus this shall be played at our funeral:



It's a tough life, unless you weaken.

9 comments:

MJ said...

Have you told her about all of US yet?

Oh, and I suppose you can't say the invitation's in the post because of the strike, right?

Jimmy Bastard said...

A caveat of love, how intensely romantic.

I've decided upon a sod of hallowed (snigger) turf fae the pitch at Ibrox, as a wedding gift.

Keep it wrapped in plastic, who knows? it might well double in value by the time the weans are old enough to shave.

The very best of luck pal.

Piggy and Tazzy said...

Married? Are you insane?

Clearly, you must be.

Betty said...

Bloody hell ...

KAZ said...

(Mutters something about triumph of Hope over Adversity)
But if you both love The Small Faces - it's a good start.
I'll certainly come to the funeral -all the best until then.

Madame DeFarge said...

And we will be invited? Maybe you could have the breast enlargements instead. A true act of devotion.

EmmaK said...

re too cheap form implants...just strap a couple of turnips to her chest. When they get wrinkled you can replace them. Good luck.

Kyahgirl said...

I go away for a year or two and you get up to all sorts of mischief!!

Best wishes and all that.

By the way, gravity is a bitch in the long run so small breasts really are the best bet!

Peevish McSnark said...

Best wishes, from a half-mad, half-Welsh non-bint ;-)