Desperate and Dateless.

Yes... it’s time for that rant, yes, you guessed it, internet dating!

I’m over it. I’ve completely deleted myself off the face of the earth.

Why, you ask? Why so drastic?

I just met tonight with a man almost half my height. I had thought on the phone that he did have a rather high voice. But he did seem nice, and funny, and giggly, and possibly just my type. I knew it was off to a rocky start when the first utterance from my mouth was, “Gee, you’re much shorter than you look in your photo”. Oops. Eye avoidance and the urge to laugh, cry and repeatedly beat myself in the chest for most of the night. I did have nice Pad Thai on Parkway though, I highly recommend it.

Why the internet dating in the first place?
Sick of lary, lurchy men. In bars. On the street. On the tube. Looking at you like they want it badly. More often than not, making fools of themselves as they hurtle towards you after a few too many pints of Guinness (after the obligatory crack on to most breasted fair individuals on your left and right) and breath heavily on you, spitting their Guinness and dried flakes all over you as they say “God you’re beautiful, you know you’re beautiful” (i.e. shag me now, or later, or whatever, but a shag would be good)

I was also sick of finding most people boring (sorry), or just not fancying the pants off someone until I’m breathless and giggly and completely silly. What’s happenned then is that I’ve ended up either being complacent, dull or exhibited completely bizarre behaviour during the peculiar ritual we like to call dating.

I also though I couldn’t do any worse than the first couple of men I dated when I first got to London. Why couldn’t a computer match me up with a stunning young man, with suitable interests, intellect, fine wit and of course, a penchant for a ‘bottle of red whilst staying in’?

So there I was. And now here I am.


Fancy a laugh?

Here’s my profile:

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I'm new to this, hoping it may supercede the letchy and ludicrous conversations one may have in a public house when wankered.

About me:

I'm warm-hearted, committed and energetic, particularly when it comes down to things that are very important to me.

I love thinking, theorising, learning, engaging and participating, and generally stimulating my mind and heart.

I can be cautious, and perhaps never quite care-free, though mix this with a blend of creativity and an open-mind and you have a naturally curious nature.

I'm happiest when I'm thinking about, listening to, playing and making music.

I'm occasionally nutty but always nice. If I'm bored I usually come across as boring and/or a complete daydreamer. Don't take this personally.

Seeing little, daily interactions of a humorous nature help to keep my sense of humour and light heartedness.

I also enjoy meeting random people, decadent and unexpected adventures and giving something new a try.

Moreover, I'm the last to leave a party, the first on the dance floor, have developed a recent preference for completely impractical shoes and have been known to be a blanket thief.
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I would fancy me if I could. (Boys, you know where to find me)


Here’s a selection of the best (highly off of me to publish my grievances. I wish I could say I have altered some details to protect the innocent, i.e. YOU, but I haven’t)

Man A – who likes campfires, detects my aura, asks if I dream in colour (577 words of it!)
Man B – who writes like I want him in my pants now (even though I’ve never laid eyes on him). As a high flying ‘executive’, he asks me to go to New York with him.
Man C – who has written (and sent) a complete essay on why the whole of the english language should be reconceptualised, he calls it his ‘filosofy’. He also sent a few pictures of himself in cobra position showing off his buffness. Both are available upon request.
Man D – Bad humour. Self deprecation. Tortured emails. Ag.
Man E – so clearly not 35. So clearly not 35. He has a nice villa in Spain though.
Man F – wrote paragraphs under headings suich as ‘Education’ and ‘Interests and Likes’. It read like a CV.
Man G – “IF I'M NOTHING LIKE WHAT YOU WANTED, WILL I STILL DO?”
Man H – He calls himself the Pantha, and said “Sweetie, just get yourself a subscription and I’ll pick up the tab”
Man I – He only writes four word sentences and looks like a thug. I cannot think of a reply and tell him he has a nice pillowcase. He is oddly encouraged by this. I think he even is spurred to write a five word sentence.

I was also offered naked photos countless times. I’m sorry lads, but it isn’t all just about the penis.


You might ask, did I enjoy anything about the experience, and what have I gained? Well, apart from mortification, sheer hysterics and occasional interest and exhilaration, it was really just business as usual. I have met two lovely men, both whom I hope to be friends with. I’ve also gained a good credit card bill (what with all the subscriptions and sushi). I’ve learnt I’ve learnt to accept that men are just as naff online as they are offline. I’ve also learnt that perhaps it’s not worth squeezing a lemon that has sat in your fridge for a few weeks (literally, and metaphorically).Thus, the moral of the story is just don’t bother with internet dating unless you want to meet dwarfs and donut-heads.


So for now, I’m back to pubs and laundromats. Buy me a drink sometime, or some washing powder, and I’m yours, baby.