I wake up this morning to discover that I am single. She’s left me. In the middle of the night. For another guy.
Its a lovely little note, full of sweet comments about how much better he is in bed than I am and how fulfilled he makes her feel. I file it with all the others and then do what anyone else would do in such a situation, I change my Faecbook relationship status back to ‘single’. Next, I pop round to some friends and get myself lots of hugs, have a little rant, a little cry and a cup of tea. Then I have to get back to work.
I’m self employed, see, and my boss is a real wanker – although sometimes he’ll give me the afternoon off if I give him a hand job, (thankfully, he’s never asked me to suck his dick, I don’t think my back could take it). Once at my desk, I do what any self-respecting writer does, I go onto Farcebook, and its amazing, its like it can read my mind.
Within two hours of my declaration of singledom, Fartbook has filled my sidebar with adverts for women. The variety is astounding. I can find Christian girlfriends or date black women, I can even have a girlfriend in a uniform if I want. One says “Women over 40.” although there is no way the woman in the picture is even halfway to 40. I can date a ‘pretty Chinese girl’ or ‘1,000s of Japanese women’ and I wonder if that means you have to date them all at the same time. I’m even offered a choice of vegetarian women – why would I care what someone does or doesn’t eat?
I click on one and it takes me to a site called serioussingles.co.uk and I start to fill out my profile. There are some obvious questions, like gender and age and location. They want to know my ethnicity, which I guess is important for a lot of people, although it isn’t for me, and they want to know how much I earn, which is fair enough I guess, but I’m a writer and there isn’t a box marked ‘zero’. Next they ask me what religion I am. I scan the list for atheist or antitheist but they’re not there, and all I can click on is ‘none’, which is wrong because I believe in plenty of shit, just not any of the shit with the tick boxes on their page. Then, they start to piss me off.
The next page is about my interests, what kind of music I like, that kind of thing. I don’t get to type in genres or my favourite bands or anything, oh no. I have to pick from a list. Well, guess what? Rastabilly Skank and Bulgarian Hip-Hop weren’t even there. I get a list of bands I might like. Now sure, I like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Primal scream, but where on that list are Bad Sin and The Tofu Love Frogs? Anyway, I click on ‘rock’ and ‘blues’ and ‘new wave’. New wave! Really? The next screen loses me completely.
The next page of my profile is all about what ‘hairstyle’ I have, and again, I don’t get to choose. I mean, why the fuck would anyone select a partner on the basis of hairstyle? I want a woman who is beautiful, its not about how “hot” she is. I don’t care if she’s bald as long as her heart shines. I look down the list and… surprise surprise, mohawk isn’t there. This is the point where I click ‘cancel’ and would have clicked ‘fuck you’ too if they had such a button.
Tonight my friends are gonna take me out and get me laid. Gonna cheer me up. I’ll go along with it, in the belief that it will work, I just hope the poor girl doesn’t mind me crying while I fuck her.
Good night, sweetheart
It’s time to go now
You’ve been so wonderful,
I don’t wish to go
Goodnight sweetheart – I will always love you x
When I’m talking with a woman, I make a point of not staring at her boobs, its not polite or respectful, “apparently”. The other night though, I was on a date with a girl who talked about her breasts incessantly. I figured it would be rude not to look.
This was inspired by something I read on the wonderful Tales of a Charm City Chick.
Six things to avoid on a first date
(that have happened to me on a first date…all within the last six months)
- Falling asleep: for some reason this is not looked kindly upon. You might think you are just demonstrating how comfortable you feel in her prescence, but trust me, it doesn’t work. I once woke up to find my date had left! How rude is that?
- Proposing: again, this doesn’t seen to float a woman’s boat. I thought women liked romance. Wait until the second date would be my advice, not that I’ve ever actually had a second date.
- Crying uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: I thought that women liked to see a man’s sensitive side but I have failed to get my dick sucked on many occasion due to this.
- Laughing uncontrollably throughout the entire evening: this one is not always a disaster but try to make sure that you don’t point at her when you are laughing.
- Asking her if she has any hot sisters: not sure why this is often responded to with “Cheque please!” Asking her if she has any hot brothers seems to have a similar effect. The same rule can also be applied to mothers, daughters and grandmothers and particularly to pets and/or livestock.
- Telling her that you have been masturbating over her Farcebook profile pictures: I thought that was flattering but apparently not, not even if you provide proof by showing her the video of you doing it.
So there you have it guys. The foolproof guide to not getting your face slapped. Who knows, maybe one day one of us will get to go on that elusive second date.