Dating Bambi…

Image by Don Hankins via Flickr

Okay, am going back to early autumn for this particular dating delight. Meet Tom – we’d been chatting online one night, and he offered, at 2am, to shower and hop in his car for the hour’s drive to my home, to have sex. What a gentleman, eh? 😉

I refused his kind offer, but agreed to meet him for dinner the next night. You’re probably wondering why. Well, Tom was different to anyone else I’d ‘met’ online; he seemed confident and assertive, manly even.

And he didn’t send me pictures of his willy.

Oh damn you, online-dating-fake-persona! Within a few minutes of us meeting, I just knew Tom lacked testicles.  Call me a cow, but I cannot stand that ever-adoring, puppy-dog, you’re-so-lovely-and-I’m-so-grateful-I’ll-do-anything-to-please-you face on a man. It makes me want to slap him, and yell, ‘Grow a pair, you wuss!’

His idea of conversation was to agree with every Tiny thing I said. I began contradicting myself and making the most ridiculous of statements just to get a reaction. No chance! Tom just simpered and bobbed his head like one of those nodding dogs you see in the back of a car.

In fact, the only interesting comment he made all evening was this:

‘God, I walked past this old wreck of a car in the car park. It was falling to pieces. And it didn’t have a proper back lens cap, just a piece of Christmas pudding wrapper taped over the brake light.’

‘Was it a faded green Fiesta?’

‘Yes! Did you see it, too?’

‘Kind of,’ I replied. ‘ It’s my car.’

But the best bit of our date, the pinnacle of our jovial time together, the absolute epitome of our shared experience was walking through town and stumbling across a Gay Pride gathering. The streets were awash with loud lesbians and happy homosexuals, high on celebratory, unfettered sexuality. And beer.

How did my confident, assertive, manly date react? He darted from his roadside position to the inside pavement position, so that I was shielding him from ‘danger’, his eyes, wide, like Bambi caught in oncoming headlights. He thrust one arm across my shoulders, and wrapped the other around my waist. The bloke was terrified! If he’d possessed balls, they would’ve shrivelled to the size of acorns.

And the moral of this story, children? Never, ever believe an online dating profile. Even if he comes across as a testosterone-fuelled ‘real man’, underneath there’s just a scared, pathetic, homophobic Big-Girl’s-Blouse!

 

Quite frankly, my dear, I can’t be arsed…

Image via Wikipedia

Reading Ellen’s Guide yesterday reminded me of the good ol’ Favourites’ List. It’s not a complicated system – just a page, containing all your favourite potential datees.  It’s like social bookmarking for saddos.

My list is empty. I probably don’t need to explain why… But I have been added to five favourites’ pages.  Oh lucky, lucky me.

The first is Babyface – the original todger-flasher (short, squat and wrinkly), who likes ‘collecting clowns on the beach’ and ‘melting with others’.

Then we have Fisherman – extremely distinguished i.e. older than my granddad and author of my last ‘Do you want to see my one-eyed trouser-snake?’ e-mail.

And Bald-Brian who quips, ‘Sharks are like dogs. They only bite when you touch their private parts. Hee hee hee’.

The Octopus who’s looking for his ‘solemate’. Sounds a bit fishy to me…

Finally, the Seahorse who wants a ‘nice female to hang out’.

I give up. Really.

But, what’s more confusing than the fact that I can only ever attract strange men, is why keep a list like this in the first place? Because these guys don’t ever make contact with you. It’s bizarre, really. Like buying your favourite Death by Chocolate dessert and never taking it out of the freezer, or worse still, pulling it out once a week and drooling over it! Eek!

And as for the other two Herberts. Well, if you’d sent someone photos of your dangly bits (or indeed, the offer of such) and had been completely blanked, would you consider that person a Favourite? I can’t work it out, honestly.

There’s another bonus feature on my site, called Meet me! That’s just the same. You trawl through users’ photos, and if you see someone you like, you click the ‘Yes! I’d like to meet you!’ button. Again, what’s the freakin’ point? Because these guys do nothing about it! Plenty of Fish should really install a button, saying ‘Yes! I’d like to meet you, but I can’t be arsed to make a move because I’m too busy wanking over the photos in my Favourites’ List!’

Ye Gods, is it any wonder I’m a cynic?

Quasimodo WLTM a complete wuss who likes groping in public…

Image via Wikipedia

Okay, here’s my dating profile according to Tiny’s Online Translation Guide.

Feel free to mail me for a date, but for the love of Mars bars and other things holy, don’t send me pictures of your pecker!

I’m not hideous enough to make you vomit, but let’s play it safe by dating somewhere with subdued lighting. On no. Silly me! I just looked in the mirror and I actually resemble Quasimodo having a big, bad hair day.

I have a spankable butternut-squash-shaped bottom and am still waiting for my boobs to grow. In fact every time I get a pimple, I become over-excited, hoping that I’m finally about to enter puberty.

I only ever laugh at other people’s misfortune and whenever someone says the word ‘willy’. Or ‘knob’. And especially the number ’69’.

I’m loud and annoying, and I laugh like a constipated donkey. When people let me out in public, they always tell others I’m on day release from the local Care in the Community programme. I do have major control issues – you can keep your front-door key, Mister. I have a shiny silver one of my own. I do take Prozac – the anti-depressant of the stars.

I’m looking for a man who won’t admit to his true age. A complete wuss who enjoys groping in public places, and will titter alongside me whenever someone says the word ‘willy’. Or ‘knob’. And especially when we hear the number ’69’.

I expect you to pay for dinner. And dessert. And coffee. And an after-dinner liqueur. At the end of the evening, you will thank me for being such good company and then walk me to my car.

Horny is acceptable, but no mummy’s boys, please; I would frequently make you cry. Would be particulary delighted to hear from anyone with flatulence problems in the bedroom.  😉

The Tiny Translation Guide part 2

Image by The Library of Congress via Flickr

And now to translate the men’s profiles!

Athletic ~ spends all this free time at the gym. Will expect you to be just as obsessed disciplined. Carrying a few extra pounds ~ think Johnny Vegas but without the humour.
Average ~ could be anything from the Elephant Man to the Seven Dwarves.
Sporty ~ spends every evening playing X Box.
Adventurous ~ desperate for a threesome. Bring a friend.
Independent ~ you’re never getting your hands on this guy’s front-door key.
Up for a laugh ~ an alcoholic
Uninhibited ~ has a flatulence problem.
Romantic ~ a complete wuss.
Affectionate ~ groping in public really turns him on.
Passionate ~ horny.
Loyal ~ a stalker.
Sensitive ~ mummy’s boy. Don’t upset him, or he’ll cry.
Artistic ~ unemployed and broke, but you will get an over-the-top, gushy handwritten poem on your birthday.
Mature ~ much older than he’s admitting.
Distinguished ~ ancient. This one’ll complain of prostate problems but luckily, he’ll be napping before he gets to the gory details.
Good looking ~ looks great modelling white Calvin Klein underpants, but ask him to do anything more challenging, and he’s screwed.
Just an ordinary guy ~ is as boring as fuck. Has no personality at all and resorts to chatting about the weather. Thinks your conversation is scintillating. He looks at you with adoring eyes and a soppy grin. Reminds you of a puppy.
Bit of a hippie ~ showers once a fortnight and believes in sleeping around.
An entrepreneur ~ sells  stolen goods out of the back of a battered white van.
Friendship First ~ he’s impotent.
Not looking for casual sex ~ You’ve accidentally clicked on a woman’s profile. Go back to the blokes’ page.
Gone past the clubbing scene ~ embarrassed to be seen in public since he started dancing like his dad.
Likes to really let go in the bedroom ~ a premature ejaculator.
Recently separated ~ and feeling rejected. Has major trust issues. Will need lots of reassurance and cuddling. Can you be arsed?
Loves riding my motorbike ~ having a midlife crisis.
An old-fashioned kind of guy ~ he wears the trousers, now get in that kitchen and cook him a roast.
Looks aren’t important ~ he hasn’t had sex in years. If he doesn’t get some soon, his scrotum’s gonna spontaneously combust.
Likes to show a girl a good time ~ after a night with this guy, you won’t walk straight for a week.
Looking for an older woman ~ has unresolved mummy issues.
Looking for a younger woman ~ he’s a pervert.

The Tiny Translation Guide to dating terms and phrases…

Image by kthread via Flickr

Anyone who’s dangled a toe in the murky pool of online dating will know that trying to decipher a user’s profile is a lot like sifting through grit in the hope of locating a pearl. And chances are, all you’re gonna get for your effort, is crap underneath your fingernails.

When a woman describes herself as cuddly, does that mean she enjoys a hug, or that physically, she’s a bit of a hippo? When a man says he’s mature, is he saying he’s responsible, or older than your dad?

Honestly it’s a minefield for the uninitiated.

But it’s your lucky day! I’ve already done the decoding. Here is one part one of Reading between the lines – what those descriptions and phrases really mean:

On women’s profiles:

Voluptuous ~ has massive bazookas. 
Curvy ~ fat. Tends to wear leggings to stop her thighs from chafing.
Slim ~  still waiting for her boobs to grow.
Average looking ~ not hideous enough to make you vomit. Just to be on the safe side plan a date with subdued lighting.
A few extra pounds ~ really fat. Or pregnant.
BBW – Big Beautiful Woman ~ definitely female. Don’t ever let her go on top or you’ll end up in traction.
Sporty ~ loves watching tight buns and chunky thighs  rugby on the telly.
Strong sense of self ~ a ball-breaker.
Bubbly~ loud and annoying. Laughs like a constipated donkey and is really embarrassing in public.
Emotionally secure ~ takes Prozac.
Calm and laid-back ~ takes Prozac and Diazepam.
Open-minded ~ thinks your best mate looks hot.
High spirited ~ has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. Self medicates with Speed.
A good sense of humour ~ only ever laughs at someone else’s misfortune. And when she hears the word ‘willy’.
Artistic ~ a high maintenance manic-depressive.
Romantic ~ thinks Cinderella was a True Movie. She’ll expect flowers, chocolates and cute cuddly toys for each weekly anniversary.
Independent ~ has control issues.
Attractive ~ she’s a bimbo airhead.
Loyal ~ overly possessive. Ditch this one and the bunny gets it.
A bit of a hippy ~ hasn’t shaved her armpits since 1987.
An active social life ~ yeah, on Facebook.
Great personality ~ looks like Quasimodo.
Old-fashioned kind of girl ~ No sex on a first date. And she doesn’t do oral.
Quite shy at first ~ until she’s downed a barcardi and coke and then you’ll have to peel her off your penis. At least ’til you’re out of the pub.
Looks aren’t important ~ she’s only interested in your bank balance.
Friendship first ~ she needs to let the antibiotics work before she can shag you.
Recently separated ~ on the rebound. You’re soo getting laid tonight.
Likes a man to be a man ~ expect to pay for everything.
Looking for an older man ~ her daddy calls her princess and she believes him.
Looking for a younger man ~ she’s about to hit the menopause and her hormones have gone bonkers. She wants hot fast sex, and she wants it now!

Translating male profiles tomorrow  🙂