(The amazing folks at shmittenkitten.com continue to give me a great venue to post my continued thoughts on why I’d make a terrible boyfriend.  Go check them out and read all the other hilarious musings on dating/life/craziness.)

Welcome to another installment of the Bad Boyfriend Chronicles. We’re going to venture into a HIGHLY FICTIONAL realm here and imagine a scenario in which I’ve actually successfully wooed you (unlikely), kept you interested for a period of at least a year (highly unlikely), and popped the big question to which you’ve said yes (lightning strike).

Since we’ve established a few things that make me a bad boyfriend, we’re going to dive right in and start off my role as a bad fiancé in the best way possible. I’m going to kick off the whole engagement with a lie:

I’m going to buy you a cubic zirconia and act like it’s a real diamond.

I know that sounds fucked up, but let’s just be realistic. The most expensive thing I’ve ever purchased is the high-def TV that currently sits in my living room. It was $2,000. To me, that’s an ungodly amount of money. But, now I get to wake up to Matt Lauer in crisp high-def as I eat my cornflakes. And when I come home from work, I can watch epic movies and VH1 reality shows to my heart’s content in stunning detail. Not bad!

Imagine for a moment that someone invented a high-def TV that was 1/10th the price and looked EXACTLY the same and displayed that same crisp high-def picture and looked awesome. Maybe it had some cheaper components, but only someone highly trained in HDTV technology could tell the difference. I’d be all over that in a heartbeat. Give me the cheaper TV. I don’t know any better. Ignorance is bliss.

Unless you’re a gemologist with a magnifying glass, you’re not going to know that I bought you a CZ. Now, this isn’t amateur hour. I’m not going to get some ridiculously large CZ and try to pass it off as a diamond. My entry-level marketing job and aging Honda Civic are pretty clear indicators of my income bracket. Instead, I’ll pick out something reasonable that you wouldn’t suspect to be a fake.

In the end, this will all be for the best. Instead of going into debt to finance an overpriced rock that you wear on your finger, I’ll save a bunch of money that will be spent in our inevitable divorce settlement once you find out that I make a bad husband in addition to being a bad boyfriend and bad fiancé.

Long after the marriage is dissolved and you’ve burned all the photographs and other evidence of me, you’ll go to get the ring appraised to sell as a final “fuck you!” And that’s when you’ll find out it was a CZ the whole time. That’s also when I’ll officially win.

Unless of course, we never get divorced and manage to live happily ever after, in which case, I win as well.

As you can see, there’s really no downside to the cubic zirconia, aside from the fact that it most definitely makes me a bad fiancé.