Really? You are getting married? It is news to me. After all, you only mention it FIVE TRILLION TIMES A FUCKING DAY!!!!
Look lady in the office next to me, I am happy for you. I am sure you and your "fiancée" will live happily ever after and have 2.5 wonderful WASPY children and drive 2.3 nice, but sensible cars but if you mention this god damned mother fucking wedding one more time I am going to rip the mouse from your computer and strangle you with the fucking chord.
I am all for the institution of marriage whether it be among hetero couples or straight couples. Interracial or homogenous. Animal, Vegetable or Mineral. But I swear to god this holy union will not come to pass if I hear you prattle on about every fucking detail just one more time.
This may come as a HUGE shock to you but no one in this office is running from the train station kicking over little old ladies in an attempt to get here as fast as we can to hear what GOD DAMN FLOWER ARRANGEMENT YOU FINALLY DECIDED ON!
What? you decided to get white roses instead of pink? Stop the presses!
You decided on Pastor Bill instead of Pastor Tom? I can now sleep at night!
Your Great Aunt Edna says she can make it after all? Here I thought she wouldn't make it.
SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Do you really think we want to hear which hotel it is you are going to put all the guests in? I guess you do because every morning you regale us with an update on everything from square footage of the rooms to the layout of the fucking bathrooms. Seriously? The bathrooms? Do YOU even care about this?
Do you honestly think that I go home wondering where will her and her "fiancée" finally decide to place the cake in the reception hall. Sure the corner would be nice and out of the way, but don't they want it in the center, where all can see her so cutely shove cake in his face?
Well, I don't. The only thing I think about is that I hope you drop the fucking knife you cut it with and impale your "fiancée's" foot.
So, lady in the office next to me, If you do want to wear that pretty nice dress (whose picture, incidentally, you have shown me on no less than 15 different occasions) You will kindly shut your fucking mouth before I, and everyone else in this office, take turns beating you like a fucking piñata.
On a similar note, if the word "fiancée" slips out of your mouth one more time you better prepare yourself for a severe and merciless gouging of the eyes with the first letter opener I can find.
Congratulations on the engagement.
Bitch.
this is in or around Shutthefuckupland