Don’t worry, this isn’t one of those Oedipus Complexes that would make Sigmund Freud turn in his grave, twiddling his moustache quizically. It is the tale of another dating woe, from when I had recently moved to London.

There I was, a single man salivating at the thought of what seemed like an endless line of available women, all just a Tube ride away. The world, it seemed, was my oyster. I just had to search amongst the sea of opportunity and grab a shining pearl, whilst obviously avoiding the perils of any non-jewellery producing molluscs, if you catch my drift. But enough of the analogies…

Not knowing where to start, I signed up to Match.com and started the whole ‘getting to know you’ process with London’s finest. With little success. What was wrong with these career girls? Maybe they didn’t actually believe that I was a millionaire playboy with a very big house in the country, his own horse and an interest in polo. It wasn’t too big a lie, I thought. Well, I did sometimes eat mint flavoured polos. Continue reading →

You don't have to look quite
so surprised to see me

So, with a successful blog which is growing in popularity, was it inevitable that one fan would take things too far? ‘Man of the people’, ‘Studmuffin’ and ‘Leader of men’… these are just some of the descriptions that have never been used to describe me. So it was just a tad surprising to find myself the subject of one misguided bunny boiler’s attentions.

She wasn’t aware of this site; we had ‘met’ when I was new to London and had joined City Socialising, a social network for social misfits who no-one likes people who are looking to widen their circle of friends. She sent me a couple of messages which, although jangling my internal alarm bells, I replied to out of courtesy. I say courtesy, but her name was Ho, and I wasn’t sure if that was really her name or if it was actually a nickname based on her sexual promiscuity. So in reality, Little Stewie was doing the thinking, thereby overruling the more cautious thoughts that I should have paid more attention to. Continue reading →

Another day, another date and it all seemed to be going very well. But in life’s myriad of social interactions there are some questions that you just don’t ask. Just like demanding to know who has farted in the lift, or seeing an ugly baby and asking if it’s a boy or a girl, you shouldn’t go on a date and ask someone why he or she is single. Why not just shout “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?”, slap me across the face and call me a freak whilst you’re at it, to really make me feel all snugly inside?

And anyway, it takes two to tango, as they say. So, after replying that my date should “… ask the women of London” to find out the answer, I batted the same question straight back at her. Continue reading →

No, not her, she was busy

It had all started off so well. I met an old friend for drinks on a Friday  evening and we had noticed a couple of nice girls chatting in the corner and struck up a conversation. Despite the fact that they had arranged to meet a couple of blokes, we soon skillfully prised away the ladies from their clutches. Well, they kept going outside for cigarettes, so it was their own fault…

So there I was getting on fabulously with the taller girl (as if I have to take the taller one); life couldn’t get any better than this! She told me that she was an actress. Of course, she was a little known actress, not as stunning as Angelina Droolie or Halle Boobly (who is?), but still desirable in my (drunken) eyes. She was currently ‘starring’ in a Bodyform tampax ad apparently, although surprisingly, wasn’t roller skating through a park or abseiling down a cliff face in the commercial. Continue reading →