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Posts Tagged ‘dating’

The Wed Or Dead Wager LIVE (Plus some other chumps)

February 12, 2013 1 comment

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So here’s a thing. We’re doing another blog reading. This one won’t be a fierce competition and hopefully Biscuit won’t decide to read a long story about periods, but we will be live, reading some stuff and you can come and laugh at our faces. In fact we’d like it if you did.

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More importantly it’s being organised by the excellent Kit Lovelace of MyLoveLifeInYourHands fame (remember the dude we went to New York with) and will feature a load of other also excellent people reading funny things about relationships.

Not sold yet?

This will also be a rare chance to see proof that Biscuit isn’t dead and if you felt the need to heckle him about not writing more posts, well I wouldn’t have a problem with that*

If that’s not enough to tempt you there will be bongo action, a selection of hats and at least a couple of jokes that were considered too rude for Radio 4.**

If you say you like the blog we may even buy you a drink.

*Please do this after the show, heckling during a performance is an awful habit.

**True.

Dot-com idea: Date Adviser

February 6, 2013 11 comments

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I’ve just had an amazing idea for a dot-com. It’s so good I’m going to put it on this secret blog in the hopes that a bored multi-millionaire spots it and emails me to buy the idea. That happens right?

Here is the problem: You never know what someone is like before you date them.

Solution: A website where people are reviewed by ex-girlfriends and boyfriends so you can find out what they are like before you agree to meet them for coffee. Sort of like Trip Advisor but with people.

Meet Datr

Just think about it, knowing the sort of reviews someone had got from previous dates would allow you to skip a whole category of berks. It would be like trying to find the perfect hotel, but with people ‘I’m looking for someone who has at least three stars on empathy with access to a pool’ or, ‘Good value for money, better than I expected and very clean.’

It would be brilliant, or at least better than Klout (which is officially the worst thing ever but people still talk about it).

The only real problem I can see with it is that by asking previous dates to rate them you’d probably get a lot of negative scores. (NEVER CALLED ME BACK -5 points). Oh well that’s a thing for someone else to solve, I’m just an ideas guy.

Do you know a good dealer?

August 8, 2012 Leave a comment

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My old chum the art dealer is on Operation Lock That Shit Down (I still need a better name for it). She knows rings and stuff and has been a friend for years. Ideal for being an adviser. She was going to help with the picking and help me get ‘a deal’ but she’s off to Ireland for two months.

No help for me.

But she just happened to bump into a diamond dealer she knows in the street (yes that really happens). She mentioned my name and he’s going to do me a deal, apparently. He’s now in my phone as ‘dealer’ which may backfire as a plan (It does make me feel cool and edgy) but now I’ve got a contact.

UPDATE

We’ve just spoken. I’m going to go and see him on Monday and talk about rings. This does mean that I have to find out more about various types of cuts and what TP likes without arousing her suspicion.

He also said if I take a photo of her hand he can probably size it from that. GET IN.

Also now I’ve told a real person about the proposal, it feels a little bit more real. That’s quite scary. Still no turning back, this is definitely the right thing to do.

Dating for silly men who lock themselves out of the house

July 4, 2012 Leave a comment

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I have made myself homeless a few times, because I am a berk. By homeless I usually mean forgetting keys or foolishly ending up in a situation where I have no where to sleep, or stay. I mention it because I managed this yesterday, while wearing shorts but I survived and TP only mocked me for a little while.

Confused? Let me list two classics.

1) Glastonbury

I was watching it on the telly it seemed nice. Some friends phoned up and said they were there and that they had a spare ticket and asked me I want to come along. It was lovely weather and I was living only about 30 minutes away. So I hopped into a car and drove over. This is what I packed: a spare shirt, three apples half a bottle of mead. No tent, no warm clothes.

On the way over I stopped to pick up some hitch-hikers (It seemed the right thing to do on the way to Glastonbury). They were two chaps who revealed they had just got out of jail and they were going to sell drugs. Don’t worry they didn’t kill me.

My friends said were at ‘the gate’. There is no gate, there are eight. Also my chums hadn’t taken their mobiles along so they’d phone from a pay phone, give awful instructions and then I wouldn’t meet them. I managed to sneak in eventually by giving a man ten pounds.

The festival was fun but going there on my own was strange. I talked to some people, walked around for hours saw some strange acts. Ate a cookie and the eventually fell asleep for a bit in a field while watching Fight Club. I couldn’t stay awake for the ending so I had no idea about the twist for months.

After 36 hours of walking I was pretty tired, but I was too scared to sleep properly.

Eventually I did find my friends and it was aces. I was so glad to be able to sleep somewhere safe. While we slept someone robbed the tent.

Lesson learned: Tents aren’t secure but if you’re going to a festival you probably should pack one, sleeping bags are nice too.

2) Curfew

I was living with a girl for a while (as chums). It started off okay and then strange things happened. One of which was she instigated a curfew. I had to be in bed and silent by 10.30. The flat was pretty far out of London so it took about an hour and a half to get to it from Soho. If I came home after then, there would be WORDS.

So this meant by a 8ish I had to decide if a night out was going to be a big one that would coast all the way through till 8am or end it there. It’s hard to tell. I got it wrong a few times and so ended up walking across London a few times just to kill time (if I stopped moving I got cold) I got very fit but sometimes my shoes cut my feet to ribbons and I’d have to wash blood out of my socks.

Lesson learned: There isn’t a lot to do in London between about 3am and 6am.

Holidays with girls, and dinosaurs

March 5, 2012 Leave a comment

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Previously the Theatre Producer and I went on holiday to Serbia for a wedding.

It was pretty well documented here (part 1part 2part 3part 4) and we’re off on holiday again now, in well a few days. Exciting!

This time it’s a proper ‘do nothing’ holiday somewhere hot. We’re going away for an entire week with no plans apart from sleeping a lot and reading books, by a pool. I can’t wait.

Although I’m not sure that the Theatre Producer is prepared for what will happen.

I get restless if I don’t have something to do, I can do a lazy weekend, just, but after that I get a bit, bouncy. Colouring in books will only keep me amused for so long. I have a lot of energy, I was a bit of a naughty child and I think by about day three I’ll be running laps of the villa making dinosaur noises, at 3am.

I almost feel sorry for her, or at least I would if velociraptors knew what pity was. Roar!

Three Bad Valentine’s Days

February 13, 2012 Leave a comment

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I’ve got plans for this V. Day. They will probably go pretty well which will make a boring story. Instead here are three bad Valentine’s Days I have had.

1) The one with the gift

I’d been seeing a girl for a while. It was Valentine’s Day. I decided to get something from Tiffany’s for her. Just a little frippery. I also managed to pull in some favours and get a table at a super trendy restaurant.

I dressed in my smartest clothes and sauntered over the the restaurant a little early. Smiling to myself the whole time in a slightly smug way about how aces the evening I had planned was going to be.

She didn’t turn up. I got stood up on Valentine’s Day by my girlfriend. Never has so much pity been poured on one man while he eats bread sticks.

Lesson learned: Never smile in a smug way on the way to a date.

Fail rating: Moderate

2) The one with the costume

It was Valentine’s Day. I was single, so were most of my chums We were at university. Our logic told us that the nightclubs would be OVERFLOWING with girls who were up for some company. This was our moment. Our time.

We decided to up things even more by going out in costume, because like that always attracts girls. Fancy dress for the win!

I went out in my Storm Trooper armour (Star Wars, not Nazi). Let’s not go into why I had a suit of Storm Trooper armour, that’s a story for another time. Let’s just say that it looks AMAZING.

It’s like totally out of the films. The only problem is it’s uncomfortable and the helmet means you can’t see very well.

Anyway we went out to the club, and the Storm Trooper armour was causing a scene. I was like King OF THE WORLD. I had a few drinks and then hit the dance floor. Soon a crowd of girls were dancing around me. I was like the Fonze, but in white.

The dancing got a bit flirty. Not like sexy or anything, just you know. There was some co-ordination, we were rocking OUT.

This one girl and me. She seemed hot (my vision was very restricted) and we were getting on well. It was just us dancing together for hours. Some time later I took my helmet off to talk to the girl and see if she wanted to take the dance somewhere more private…

It wasn’t a girl. It was a man. With a beard. Called Patrick.

Lesson learned: I can’t tell someone’s gender while wearing my Storm Trooper armour. This might explain why Storm Troopers are such terrible shots in the films.

Fail rating: Low (Patrick and I became good friends)

3) The one with the flowers

It’s Valentine’s day. I’ve been flirting outrageously with a person at work. We’ve been for drinks but nothings happened yet, but boy, did I want it to happen.

I decided to get her some flowers for Valentine’s Day. Hours are spent fretting over the message (not too serious, fun, mildly mocking) and the flowers (£50 of flowers delivered at work, mostly Lilies, no roses.).

The flowers were ordered and I got to sit around smirking to myself about when they would arrive. They did. They went down well. GET IN.

Then some more flowers arrived. Some other blighter was trying to win her affection with plants. This would not do.

I found somewhere else that could deliver in the same day, ordered twice as many flowers and an even more amusing but like ‘here are some flowers I got you, but like what-ever’ message to go with them.

They arrived, and blew her away. In your face other flower buying man. I had won.

I’d won for about an hour. Then another bouquet arrived, and it was even bigger than the one I’d just sent.

Reeling from this I wondered around in a daze. Then I did the one thing I could do. I phoned the flower place and ordered EVEN MORE FLOWERS. Ha. He wouldn’t be expecting that right? This was bound to work. A message was composed and then a catastrophic amount of flowers arrived at work.

POW! Out of the park. I’d definitely won this time. There was no way I couldn’t have won, right? It was like Rocky and I’d just delivered a knock out blow. In your face The Man.

Wrong. More flowers arrived, they were so large it took two people to carry them. The whole office stopped working to watch two burly men manhandle a titanic bouquet to the girl’s desk. I thought about ordering more but it was home time now and I had ran out of money.

Lesson learned: When it comes to total war with flowers the only winners are the florists.

Fail rating: High – I was on the rice only diet for a few weeks because I’d spent too much. We did end up dating eventually but it was a disaster. I hate rice now.

My top 3 most awkward moments in dating

January 23, 2012 3 comments

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After quite a lot of waffle about woe. I thought I’d lighten the mood a bit with three of my most cringe-worthy dating moments. These might be in order of badness, I haven’t decided yet.

A Holiday camp in France, sometime in the 90s

My first holiday with friends. I was about 13, I went with two friends and their parents. It was really exciting.

We stayed in huge tents and spent all day swimming, buying bangers or pumping coins in to dated arcade machines. It was the first time I’d ever heard Stairway to Heaven. It blew my mind.

My two friends quickly got rather pretty ‘holiday girlfriends’ and spent a lot of time snogging them in the café.

I did not. So to cure this they took me on a tour of the holiday camp, presenting me like a socially awkward horse to all the ladies in vaguely the right age-range to see if any of them would go out with me.

They didn’t. I spent a whole afternoon being peered at from caravans followed by a slow shaking of heads. Just thinking about it still makes me shiver.

Secondary school, first week

We had a sort of trial week where we went to the big school. It was very exciting because it was a BIG SCHOOL with thousands of pupils. I was 11. My previous school had 4 people in my year.

It was a culture shock. I spent the entire time worried that someone would trick me into taking LSD and/or flush my head down the loo.

There was a girl there, she wasn’t actually going to the school but had gone along for a week to be with her friends. I fancied her and wrote her name all over my pencil case.

I wrote her a letter too, after the week. The letter was quite cool but for reasons I don’t quite understand still. I used a stamp on the envelope to make it look like it had lip marks all over it. Huge red lip marks.

This turned it from a private message of affection into something her HUGE brothers found. There was quite a lot of mocking. I was at the same sailing club as her brothers, they were instructors. I got wet.

House party somewhere remote, after being at an awful club

I went to a terrible club near where I grew up. It was the only club in a small town. They showed RUDE VIDEOS in the bar. My DJ partner and I arrived late and sober because we’d been at a gig. This sounds cooler than it is, as far as I remember we’d been DJing in the function room at a golf club.

Some friends of my DJ chum were there, which is why we’d gone to this dive. We chatted for a bit and had a couple of drinks. There was a girl there.

She took a shine to me, I knew this because when we were stuffed into a tiny car going back to her place she kept licking my ear and biting my leather jacket (vintage 70s obviously).

Back at the house she invited me to stay in her bed. I did. Then my DJ chum appeared and jumped in too. Things got awkward, because she didn’t seem to want him to go.

I’ll never know if she was trying to arrange a threesome or not because I spent the rest of the evening and most of the morning shivering in in the kitchen in just my underpants (I’d left my clothes in the room when I stormed off) until her parents reappeared…

The story of the dressmaker – part 3

January 23, 2012 Leave a comment

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(read part 1 and part 2 of this previous dating misadventure)

After she’d revealed that she’d been on dates while I’d been away and it was my fault we entered a weird state of limbo. Well not quite limbo, I wanted to get back together with her but she didn’t want to get back together with me.

I asked her for another chance, actually, let’s be honest here. I begged her.

I even said that  what ever she thought, I wasn’t going to give up on us. I got quite a telling off for that.

Anyway we decided to have two weeks no contact and then meet up for a drink, to talk. (My suggestion).

We lasted a week and then met up in a hotel near work. She did want to get back together with me but was so angry she couldn’t do it. I couldn’t really understand the great evil I had committed but it was too late. She cried a little bit. I drank orange juice.

She also told me off for not sending her flowers during our no-contact period. Apparently I should have realised that ‘no contact to clear our heads’ doesn’t mean don’t send flowers.

We kept meeting up and the format would be the same. We’d chat awkwardly, occasionally making private jokes and then she’d almost suddenly decide that it wasn’t going to work and it would be over.

Change of play

It was at around this time my balls must have grown back or something because somewhere between meeting up for coffee. I suddenly realised she was a bit of a nightmare and began to pity her a bit.

A month or so passed and she suggested we meet-up for coffee. It was the festive season and I was feeling pretty planted. By planted I mean that I have completely an utterly moved on and I couldn’t give a damn what happens to her either way.

Given that I thought it was a pretty low risk activity to meet up for a cofee. I was right and wrong.

The coffee ended up being a drink because it was late. It wasn’t awkward, it was okay, or at least it started that way. We caught up in a slightly stilted way, polite as always. There was quite a lot of needless touching going on by her, far too much. Do you really need to sit on someones lap to show them a magazine?

Then she invited herself back for port and cheese. Again more touching, by her, not by me.

I’d picked up the hint that she had intentions on me, but I was having absolutely none of it.

Eventually it was time for her to leave and she was slightly taken aback when she asked if I wanted her to stay. I said it was up to her, and that I would make up the spare bed. She was shocked.

She was amazed that I didn’t want to sleep with her. The shock lasted a while, then after a short Alan Bennett style bit of dialogue she stormed off into the night.

She was genuinely amazed that I didn’t want to do anything naughty with her, or go out with her again. I suppose pretty girls don’t get that very much.

Anyway, I think the whole affair the The Dress Maker was finally over. It had its moments but it was for the best.

Lessons learned

1 – Just because a girl is pretty it doesn’t mean she is a good person.

2 – If going out with someone involves loads of stress, something is wrong.

3 – Anyone who gets FURIOUSLY angry at you if you point is a bit mad.

4 – ‘A drink after work’ is never just a drink after work.

5 – It was time to move on, not just from her but down to London.

Death and dating

December 15, 2011 3 comments

 WARNING: This post records the actual death of one of the people from the blog. Don’t read on if you’re already feeling sad or are having a tough week.

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Many months ago a new computer game came out, called Dead Island. It’s a game where you are a person in the middle of a zombie apocalypse on a lovely tropical island.

You control your person as you struggle to survive against zombies using only the weapons you can find lying around. This means you spend a lot of time hitting zombies with planks or golf clubs.

When the game was announced we (Biscuit, TP, Jen and I) noticed it had four player co-op mode so we could all play together as zombie apocalypse survivors  It was aces, and we learned a bit about how we’d act if there was a zombie apocalypse.

Biscuit would spend a lot of time fiddling with weapons, TP would find all the best stuff, I’d spend most of the time driving and Jen would keep running off on her own and getting killed.

The real challenge

A few weeks later I found out about 2.8 hours later. A zombie event being run in London where people would pay to have a zombie adventure as if there had been a real zombie apocalypse. This was too much to resist so we immediately signed up and then got over excited by the prospect of having an apocalypse. Biscuit bought an army uniform and The Theatre Producer even wore trousers.

It was a cool evening when we turned up to be chased by zombies. There was a massive queue to check in and then we were released in groups with specific instructions about no using weapons or touching people and don’t run into traffic. The last point was made a few times.

Vibrating with excitement we went to out first meeting point. A lady with long hair told us ‘it was all going bad’ and that she thought she saw some survivors go to grid reference G11.

The race to survive begins!

What followed was a series of bizarre encounters. We’d meet some some strange person they’d do some acting and tell us where to go next. In between these sequences we’d be chased around the streets of London by zombies. The fast running sort.

Most of them were dressed as doctors, I don’t know why, but they were SCARY. The only thing that made it slightly less scary was random Londoners just standing around looking confused.

One of the best bits was when we had to work our way up an empty car park with zombies chasing us. We had to run to the top of the car park to meet a lady. A car park with packs of zombies running around.

Once we were at the top the lady said she’d only help us if we’d get her some sweets, special sweets that were on the other side of the car park. This caused more zombie dodging and two of our group got eaten.

Surviving is tough

The encounters got more and more tense, in one bit we were trapped in a room with a mad person waving a knife while zombies came out of everywhere, another bit involved a very persistent zombie who chased T.P about half a mile before giving up.

We got chased out of pubs, lurched after by zombie brides and even ran away from a priest. He was going to turn into a zombie so it was okay.

Then there was the final challenge. We needed the location for the final safe zone. A professor had it, but he was surrounded by loads of zombies. Not just any zombies, these were the fastest ones we’d encountered so far and they used tactics. We had a couple of goes at trying to rush past them, but they were too cunning.

One man tried to hide under a car from them but they got him anyway. Then when the zombies were sort of distracted Biscuit made a run for it. He got past one, then another, then a third. He was weaving in and our of cars like a blur. He was going to do it!

Then a zombie appeared from no-where and got him.

We watched as they ate his face off until he was a dead.

It was sad.

Later on

Much later at the ‘Zombie Disco’ Biscuit reappeared as a zombie, he seemed quite pleased about the whole thing and Jen didn’t mind and gave him a kiss. We all got quite drunk and then went home.

It was a nice day out.

Long term relationships: pros and cons

November 11, 2011 4 comments

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I’ve been dating the Theater Producer for over four months now. Yes proper dating, from when I asked her out after Epic Date #1. She thought we were dating before then but that would be a mistake like thinking the Earth was flat or that Indiana Jones IV was any good.

This puts this relationship in as the longest one I’ve had since starting the blog (previous relationships – Consultant, Fez and well erm, some incidents), and one of the longest ones of my life.

No really, I’m that bad at keeping relationships going. I don’t really do pets either. I’m so bad at relationships I think I qualify for disabled parking.

We haven’t really argued in all that time, although we will never agree over if the Y axis on a controller should be inverted or not – It’s a nerd thing to do with computer games, all you need to know is inverting is WRONG.

Here are some other unexpected benefits of being in a long term* relationship:

  • They know how you like your coffee and you know how they like yours.
  • You can force them to read books you like.
  • Sometimes they buy you chocolates.
  • They know to act impressed when you show them a picture of a dinosaur you made at work.
  • Cheese toasties may be made for you unexpectedly.
Unexpected downsides to being in a long term* relationship
  • You have to pick up a lot of spiders and put them outside, even if you are just about to fall asleep.
  • You may get into a slightly competitive game of ‘who can give their girlfriend the best gifts for no reason’ with your friend.
  • Watching DVD Box sets takes ages because you aren’t allowed to watch the next one until they are around.
  • If you give them a draw they will slowly take over your room.
  • Apparently it’s never the right time to scribble on your girlfriend’s face when she is sleeping.
Marriage percentage : 77% (Yes, that’s right, one more than Biscuit gave Jen. IN YOUR FACE LOSERS)

 

*By my standards which puts me at about the same level as mayfly or the half life of Seaborgium.