I would say this is the best engagement photo in existence but that’s like debating who the best guy is on death row–it means nothing. When I find someone to marry my degenerate gambling ass, our engagement photos are just going to be realistically representative of a long term relationship: Us fighting over the remote, her rolling her eyes at me while I drunkenly fall into the coffee table, me playing Fallout 4 while she texts that dude from work she’s fucking, etc. Notice how zero pictures involved us having sex. Not for lack of trying. Maybe that fuckface from her work can give me a trick of the trade. Fucking Chad.
Anyway, this picture is refreshing because it’s not theater, it’s not contrived, it’s pure unbridled emotion. And the fact that they are going downhill is just another perfect microcosm for marriage.
P.S. You probably think I’m a pessimistic shithead–and make no mistake, I am–but I’ve just seen one too many of these photos pop up on my News Feed.
Yo, Bro. Bro. How’s her fucking nose smell? Can’t tell if you’re in love or are about to pass out on the poor girl. Why are you in the woods? I prefer to make love to a woman without poison sumac leaves massaging my ball sack. Just preference. You keep doing you, though. Just do it on your own because I just defriended you on Facebook. That’s a death sentence for us, bro.
But for the record, the top photo is the second best picture taken on Splash Mountain.
[h/t Some E-Cards]