Shut Up, 300 Sandwiches Lady's BoyfriendS

Remember the 300 $andwiches Lady? You know, the food blogger who says her boyfriend told her that once she made him 300 $andwiches, he'd buy her an engagement ring in what of course was not a shamelessly craven gimmick to get a book deal? Well: she's only 100 $andwiches away. And her boyfriend wants advice on how to propose. That's enough, Sandwich family. That's enough.

Today, THE BOYFRIEND HIMSELF wrote a column in the New York Post (coincidentally, the paper that employs 300 $andwiches Lady). He writes,

Few things are more nerve-rattling for a young man than preparing to propose, but having been grilled regarding when I'd pop the question by Matt Lauer on "Today" brings this fear to a whole new level.

I already know that in the eyes of the public, the stone will never be flawless enough, the ring never shiny enough and the proposal never perfect enough to satisfy the impeccable taste and boundless prowess of Internet commenters.

Yeah, and after the wedding night, I'm sure internet commenters will demand the bloodied sheet be Instagrammed using the Kelvin filter. Yeesh.

But, good news, guys. He's got some ideas that he's sure are on the right track to please The Internet, since nothing says "I will love and support you forever" like a self-promoting proposal worthy of a Kardashian.

My original ideas — sunrise over Haleakala, fireflies trained to spell out "Marry Me" like in "The Nutty Professor II," full page ad in The Post — now seemed comparatively quaint. Oh, the pressure!

Facing such lofty expectations, The Internet's Worst Boyfriend® is determined to succeed and impress no matter what, despite a few recent setbacks: my original plan to propose 68 miles above the Earth aboard a Virgin Galactic flight was dashed after the first flights got delayed and I ended up a few hundred grand short of the fare. My backup plan — orchestra, ballpark, cameras rolling — was recently stolen outright by Kanye West. What's the plan now? Specifically, how do I out-Kanye Kanye here? Someone has to one-up that guy, so let it be done by an average joe like me, who, for what it's worth, is rather patient about his damn croissants.

A 300 dancer Bollywood proposal spectacular?

300 John Cusacks with boomboxes overhead?

A 300-member flashmob gospel choir?

No. Don't do any of this. Go away. God. Why can't I stop hatereading?

I already have a headache.

[NYPost]