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.
Doubtful.
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.