Hello! Bonjour! Willkommen!

July 13, 2010



But it is taking a lot of work!

There is a guy who has been emailing me a lot, sending me all kinds of compliments. Which is great right? Only I’m not sure how much of his fabulous life is real. I’m naturaly suspicious and I think the worse. It makes me feel like I am being groomed by some internet paedo stalker. I can just see my picture now in The Metro as the embittered woman who has been swindled out of millions by some chancer who leads more than a double life.

I have a date tonight with someone else. After waking up in a quite excited mood, by the time I left the house I have switched into being a mini Phil Thompson on a bad day and have been lashing out at everyone in the office, the other IT guy not the fruity IT guy. It is quite likely I will tell this guy that Im going to “fucking get you,  you fucking cunt” all on my own.

Even though I brought in a chicken and fennel quiche and a raspberry cake, the girls have shut me in my own room to listen to Snoop Dogg all on my own and a screensaver of my number 1 girlfriend which keeps comming on because I am sitting her staring at the screen totally vaguing out.

July 11, 2010


While working on an embroidery project that I cannot reveal as it is destined as a gift Hobart and I sit and nod our heads along to a variety of songs coming out of the speakers.

You know, I read on a dating website a woman using the headline “a pile of washing up”. Another wrote “Must be lovely and like glitter.” What should I have written? Well I don’t know as so many blokes describe themselves as “pretty easy going” which I think if you read between the lines means “I’m pretty easy going so long as you do everything my way and don’t push me out of my safe place boundaries”. I don’t know how walking around in mismatched hideously expensive French lingerie with filthy hair and hands full of the same noodles that are now airborne in the direction of someone’s head while screaming CUNT YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE AN UGLY DOG and listening to gansta rap is really going to work with a guy who claims to be “pretty easy going”.

But then “I’m pretty easy going” could mean “I don’t really care what happens I’m on the brink of suicide anyway and if I don’t meet someone soon I’m going to kill myself. I hate my life. Save me.”

Or it could mean they spent two months living on the beach in Thailand and have Buddhist prayers tattooed around each ankle and made money picking mangoes.

I was discussing the difference between dating websites with a pal via SMS this morning. I told her that there are more nutters on plentyoffish.com than there are on death row. Also on the plus side for men in jail, the pictures of the guys on death row are clearer and at least you can google them and find out exactly what they did wrong already.

Remember when I was a 20 something and it was so easy to meet men? I remember being in Smashing and walking up to a guy who ripped my dress off me as soon as he could after I just said “Hello”. The next week I saw someone he knew outside the Coach and Horses. I walked up to him and said “I fucked your friend last week.” I ended up dating this guy for a long time. He had a VW van and he took me to a VW rally once. The thing I remember the most about the rally was having to take a guy to hospital who had broken both his legs the night before when his little buggy thing smashed into the side of the Hog Roast van.

I hope I meet a guy who is pretty easy going when it comes to my life.

July 10, 2010


Today I was going to go on an expedition with Iris39 but due to feeling wan and listless I stayed at home and ping ponged emails back and forth with her about the possibility of deleting my online dating profile and starting to write to a man on death row.

I have found a man incarcerated in the Polunsky Unit in Texas who is one of very few who admit they did the crime. I don’t want to read some rubbish blog about how “I didn’t do it”. Admittedly based on my own life experiences I am very sceptical about the abilities of those in authority but I suspect it is more difficult to get on death row than it is to have your designated Care Nurse loose your disability living allowance claim form and have to fill it in yourself again while living on £41 a month in a homeless women’s shelter. I don’t think you end up on death row by accident.

While cruising the pictures of men I have to say that they are pretty much on a par with the talent on other website with men waiting for your mail sending unconditional love, friendship, tolerance, showing your ability to look away at man’s worst endeavours – be it capital murder or claiming to be “both urban and outdoorsy and as happy on a night out as a night in”. Or worse: “I am a down to earth journalist who is into music, books, art and drinking. Music is really important to me. I play bass and drums badly in a band.”

Why not really go for something big in life? “I got 70 years for aggravated assault, then slit a mans throat at the shoe factory where I was doing janitorial work and ended up on death row.”

I will report back on this new phase in my life, but the more traditional online dating approach will still continue cause dating a dude on death row – only one of us is gonna live happily ever after.

July 3, 2010


OH HAI! Yes there I am in Nantes reflecting upon my love life and the philosophy of Internet dating.

Okay so let’s talk about profile pictures. I sometime check out the women’s pics but of course this is problematic because on most dating sites you get to see who has viewed you. Like how on Friendster it was made clear who was spying on you and how many times a day. Remember that? So annoying! Anyway that is why my information is about 49% of the population and not the rest.

Some key notes:


Going bald

[For the record I will date any guy with any kind of hair except for a grey pony tail. BUT I could even imagine some exceptions here.]

Fluffy [or as some less educated people will say: FAT]

[Again for the record: Check my U.B.M. segment number 1 on Teki Latex - SEXUAL!]

Will be skinny and have an asymmetric spike hair cut like a lesbian which is pretty shit as lesbians now have short back and sides or femme hair and a red belt

Will have photos off his face at a festival further on

Guaranteed to have pictures of himself in his IT office given away by the Venetian blinds in the background

I don’t know what this means but I am incredibly suspicious of these

I of course use the Photoface[TM] pics at any given opportunity. They might as well get the gist of my face with botox because I will be fucking on a botox drip in the next 5 years to keep up the lie about my age. [I switched my age back after getting a message from the Ginger Tom]

Now I REALLY REALLY THINK that online sites should have certain sentences banned from use to force people to come up with something more imaginative.

HATE NUMBER 1: I am looking for someone who is “comfortable in their own skin.” Bleurgh. Sounds horrible and slimy sexual like getting rubbed with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. And I think I prefer someone a little awkward who will realise that everyone has a bad day and wants to explode out of themselves. Thinking about it, people who describe themselves as “comfortable in their own skin” probably shit really regularly and have the same breakfast every day.

I am getting bored of this post  so I will stop now or write more later. I have a sore throat and was shopping all day with The CIB. She put in a request that I sing Au Clare de la Lune on the Hobart Ukulele which I might go and do now wearing nothing but my new snakeskin high heeled sandals in the front window with the light on for the whole street to see.

Actually do you think it I should put that as my profile description to get a pretty good match for me?

July 1, 2010


With reference to my post below:

Walking around Hanover Square sorting out CHAPS payments and why my bank card was on stop for the moment [power shopping] I walked past Chopper Lump a couple of times and felt a little guilty.

I would like to clarify this about the man I don’t want to see

1. There is no way he is only 49

2. A friend told me he knows someone who works at the same place the guy works at and piecing together a little info, this guy may be a bit of a dick. I think. I didn’t pay much attention. But the resonance from that moment the conversation left me feeling “Oh good.”

3. Can I mention the thing about THE POEM again?

4. He wears glasses but ones that almost look like he has dental braces on his face. [If I remember correctly.]

5. In one of his profile pictures he is sitting on a bed in a hotel room in knee length shorts with his legs spread a little too far apart for my liking with the camera at crotch level.

I don’t wish this man any bad vibes and nor do I mean any of these things personally to the guy. There are just things that irk me like men who wear pointy shoes on a hot day every day that aren’t cowboys. I just get the feeling he isn’t looking for the same kind of “experience” I am via the Internet. I also cannot imaging him YouTube DJing anything I would want to hear in the early hours. After enjoying this experience with someone recently in London and with friends in Nantes on the weekend I have decided that this is a definite MUST HAVE for any prospective date.


I will share my thoughts with you on this matter and much much more at a later date.

June 30, 2010


How I really look:

How I think I look:

Actually, there is quite a likeness right?!

So after my [very brief] hiatus from internet dating [such a drama queen] I have reactivate my profile. I made a few minor changes and even corrected my age. I had pitched myself as a couple of years younger with the hope I would avoid the old critters with no picture who tend to contact me. As no-one had contacted me fitting that description at aged 34 I figured what is the harm? And what do you know, within THIRTY MINUTES this prick who used to message me before with a face like a ginger Tom Cat was on my case again like a fucking juju curse:

Dear Emma

Your photos bear a remarkable resemblance to those of XXCENSOREDXX [previous profile name] whose profile graced these pages in the autumn of last year. Are you, indeed, she? She who decided that internet dating wasn’t for her? Well, if you’ve had a road to Damascus expoerience since then, and have decided you would like to meet up after all, then do drop me a message whenever you like!!



This folks is what I call a “GIVING UP ON LIFE MOMENT”. This is from a 49 year old stranger who I blew out before. Love’n'kisses. There is no way I am going to meet him in the Chopper Lump – not then, not now, not ever. Especially as he describes his ideal match WITH A POEM.

In other news, I am also looking for a gardener to tidy up my garden. Will pay! Must have some experience and be bright enough not to let the cat out.

June 1, 2010


This internet dating thing is pretty constipated. The ones you don’t like make it so excruciating. The ones you do like have a profile but send “one liners” like “I don’t have a subscription yet. I will message you when I do.” I’m so pissed off I feel like going to Paris for the weekend at the exorbitant price of £309 and sleeping on at bench at the side of the canal – and I can take my patchwork quilt I’m working on with me.

Ergh, Hobart farted. If I didn’t want to die before I sure do now.

May 28, 2010


To preface this post with a picture of fake shit is a little bit negative to say the least. But what I would like to illustrate is: to find good shit you have to wade through a lot of bad. As you will agree, some of the shits above are better than others – in infact you could end up with a bag of marbles.

The most recent date was wonderful. When his face smiled, so did his eyes. So mine did too. And we recognised it in one another and it was the thing that was missing in the first two dates.

The date tonight nearly lost his chance when I received an email saying “I’m hung over can we change the date?” and I said “That is really poor form”. It received an instant apology and a pledge that he would be there at the appointed time.

What he secretly doesn’t know is that I am feeling a little shallow of mind [and a bit like the subject of the picture above] after too many beers at an exhibition at the Timothy Taylor exhibition of Sean Scully paintings last night and noodles on Kingly Street with my buddies. One thing you might like to know about Timothy Taylor is that he isn’t a bad looking man, tight as arseholes, and glasses that are nice but just don’t quite suit his face. They are statement frames and just too big. The day I am introduced to him I will let him know.

Finally, I called Mrs Kipling this morning just to tell her I love her. She and I had such a laugh at the statment made in The Guardian relating to the fact that the lastest serial killer caught has a profile on their dating site and warning and apologies ensued.

Kindest regards from the depth of Mayfair

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