My Mum once said:  “Kissing too many boys makes you ill,”  … and you know what … she was right.   (God rest her soul – that woman was ALWAYS right.)


I kissed four boys last week, (including one manchild,) and have felt absolutely awful this week.  (Imagine the germs … dirty, dirty boys.)


So, this week I’ve decided to go on a Man Fast – no dates for a whole week.


I know.  A WHOLE WEEK.


I wasn’t sure I’d cope.  I mean, I was on a bloody roll, dating wise, last week so would I now just shrivel up into a gammy old spinster with a dodgy hip and a bald patch?  (Very funny … I mean, more than usual.)


Apparently not … (quickly does mini comb-over.)


You see, this whole dating malarkey … is really exhausting.  I have to smile, be polite(ish) and try to look as attractive as I can on a weekday – all rather tiresome.  I have to bath (OK, that’s generally a given,) 1 out of 5 times I’ll shave my legs (a generous ratio if you ask me,) and, on more than one occasion, I’ve had to buy a round!


What.  A.  Bloody.  Pisstake.


So what have I done this week without any man friends to watch Gay Network TV with?  Well firstly, I have actually been ill *cough.*  To be fair, it might be more to do with both of my children giving me flu simultaneously, but it’s much more fun to blame a man – especially one that isn’t here to defend himself.


I had a day off work sick, moaned a lot on Twitter about my palpitating heart and and slept all afternoon.


I felt pathetic and weak and just generally RANK.


I didn’t talk to many people on the dating site but I needed cheering up, so I thought I’d share with you some of the messages that have brightened up an otherwise miserable week:


Not a fan, no.



And you’re still a dickhead.





It has been said, yes … but I don’t like to brag.


By now, I was feeling up to replying ….


Thankfully, he did.



It is my duty to point out spelling mistakes.  He did mean come didn’t he?  Oh … hang on …



He meant that.  Phew.  I AM actually good looking.



Watch South Park then gimp.



No, I don’t like being ‘romanced up.’  Nor, I should point out, do I like being called an ‘older lady.’  I am, but that’s not the point you  bellend.


I could go on, but quite frankly, I’m depressed enough as it is.



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Published by Kate Sutton

Writer, Mother, Dater.

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