Based solely on personal experience...

MEN: How to woo your future wife:

1) Invite object of affection over for dinner. Ensure flatmates are out. Tidy up. Hide porn.
2) Assemble following ingredients: Fresh pasta, salmon fillets, white wine, cream, garlic, lemon juice, fresh parsley.
3) Cook required amount of pasta. Meanwhile bake salmon fillets until cooked.
4) Pour white wine into saucepan and reduce down by half. Add cream, garlic and lemon juice, salt & pepper, then flake the cooked salmon fillets and stir through.
5) Mix with cooked pasta, garnish with chopped parsley and serve.
6) Consume with several bottles of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, while modestly denying that you are in fact the greatest chef who has ever lived.
7) Make no attempt whatsoever to fend off future wife, who is by this point making growling noises and dry-humping the couch.

WOMEN: How to woo your future husband:

1) Invite object of affection to local inn or hostelry. Consume own weight in Dry Blackthorn.
2) Stumble home in state of advanced refreshment, with equally unsteady companion in tow, pausing briefly to urinate in council grit bin.
3) Upon arriving home, open freezer and conduct following inventory: 1 x 700ml bottle supermarket brand vodka, 1 x 48 pack supermarket brand fish fingers.
4) Grill entire box of fish fingers until charcoal on one side, still frozen on other. Facilitate this process using vodka as required.
5) Descend on pile of fish fingers like biblical plague of locusts. Consume entire pack in almost complete silence. Do not under any circumstances pause to consider likely constituents, origins or genetic make-up of home brand fish fingers. Complement with last dregs of vodka.
6) Retire to boudoir, leaving grill on. Attempt bestial congress. Lose consciousness.

I bloody love that woman.
(Monkey Tennis isn't Spartacus, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 6:27, 8 replies)

fuck. are you my husband?

( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 7:05, closed)

fixed that for you:
WOMEN: How to woo your future husband:

1) Invite object of affection to local inn or hostelry. Consume own weight in Dry Blackthorn.
2) Stumble home in state of advanced refreshment, with equally unsteady companion in tow, pausing briefly to urinate in council grit bin.
3) Upon arriving home, open freezer and conduct following inventory: 1 x 700ml bottle supermarket brand vodka, 1 x 48 pack supermarket brand fish fingers.
4) Grill entire box of fish fingers until charcoal on one side, still frozen on other. Facilitate this process using vodka as required.
5) Descend on pile of fish fingers like biblical plague of locusts. Consume entire pack in almost complete silence. Do not under any circumstances pause to consider likely constituents, origins or genetic make-up of home brand fish fingers. Complement with last dregs of vodka.
6) Retire to boudoir, leaving grill on. Attempt bestial congress. Lose consciousness.
( ferret -> twitter.com/syfyautocorrect <-, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 8:29, closed)

I approve of this courtship.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 10:22, closed)

Hava a [click]...
...for lols. :-D
(minimalist ..., Mon 2 Jul 2012, 12:54, closed)

7) Wake up in charred remains of house ?

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 12:54, closed)

You Prick.
I want your woman.
( Ken Oath, Mon 2 Jul 2012, 13:37, closed)

I'm still interested as to which woman that was.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Tue 3 Jul 2012, 9:56, closed)

Click!

( ThisCaledonianClown has left it far too late, Tue 3 Jul 2012, 19:53, closed)