Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, March 02, 2007

Of course, what can be a hundred times worse than the one night stand is the disastrous happening that is 'The First Date'.

And let me say, I've suffered at the hands of men. Sometimes by the mouth too; any human being who uses teeth during giving head should be carted off to Guantanamo Bay in my view. Yes, it's extreme. Yes, it's a stand against human rights. But it'll stop that little involuntary wince you have whenever your member goes anywhere strange as you wonder 'Is he going to be a biter?'

Here's a list of some of my hideous first dates. You win no points whatsoever for figuring out why they never got to second dates.

Date #1:
He had breath so bad that I hoped that when he went to get me my next tequila, it wasn't salt on the rim but rohypnol.

Date #2:
Had nasty pants. There's no redeeming that. At all. No.


Date #3:
It turning out that the 'gift he made himself for you' was a handful of semen he tries to give to you under the table between the entree and the main.


Date #4:
'What ambitions do I have? Oh, to be on Big Brother! Or failing that – a full-size Barbie impersonator.'


Date # 5:
Finding out the reason he was late was he was having my gaydar page address tattooed on his arm as a symbol of love.

Date #6:
Was the impoverished student who I took out for dinner, announced he was under-age after the champagne arrived, and then wanted to kiss me because he 'wanted to feel all Anna-Nicole Smith'.
Fucker.

Date #7:
Me: 'You like your real ale, don't you? What's that, your eighth, ninth..?'

Him: 'Yeah. I like it. Makes me fart.'

Me: 'Er. Oh. Um.'

Him (leaning close): 'Do you fart a lot? I tell ya, there's nothing better than someone farting while you're rimming them…'

Me: '-excuse me, I simply must…'

Him: '...and maybe you get a bit of follow-though, you know what I'm saying..?'

Date #8:
Discussing about the multitude of piercings he's just had removed from his cock, so much so that 'there are so many holes it'd be like playing the recorder, if you know what I mean…'


And they wonder why it's so hard to find a man.

8 comments:

I Love London... Honest! said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Qenny said...

# 3 - clearly, too much Blue Peter as a child.

# 4 - not one yer more butch and manly bits of trade, then?

# 5 - tragic on so many levels ... he wasn't the same guy as # 4 was he?

# 6 - So you gave him enough drugs for an overdose, and then started a custody battle over the corpse ...?

# 7 - Wish I hadn't read that. Seriously. Definitely much worse than what #1 had on his rim. Although were they the same (I mean, one likes a rimming/follow-through combo, the other has really bad halitosis. I see a connection there.)

coolbuddha said...

These days a check list is essential: a) is it (whatever that may be) organic?; b) how large is the 'carbon footprint'? Dear god, live is becoming boring...

coolbuddha said...

life?

savante said...

Eeeewww.... fart while you're rimming. Eewww...

Spike said...

I'm so glad #7 has emigrated and is no longer blighting our fair shores.

Vampire Librarian said...

Clearly #7 needs to be locked away, but he may actually have too much fun in Gitmo.

mr null said...

*SHOCKED*