Wednesday 3 November 2010

Love, Rupert (I know it sounds a bit posh, but I'm actually a down to earth sort, with friends from different walks of life)

Slightly awkward and borderline psychopathic men of the world, rejoice! The Man Ban is over!
Yes, the Man Ban. In the age old tradition of ‘it’s funny cos it rhymes but it’s not quite accurate’, this was the name I gave to my self-imposed withdrawal from the world of internet dating. Frankly, I was exhausted. And jaded. And although I amused myself for an afternoon by thinking up synonyms for ‘shagged’ that rhyme with synonyms for ‘being dumped’ (my favourite was SCREWED and ESCHEWED), my first foray into internet dating didn’t end well.

But that was boring, and so three months later, I have picked myself up, dusted myself off, ritualistically burned a copy of The Game by Neil Strauss whilst mentally castrating its author, and here I am again.

My objectives for my first week back online are two-fold:
Get some poor hapless male to buy me a gift subscription. I am poor. Get myself in the top 20 most popular profiles on Guardian Soulmates.

I know, I’m far too interesting and cool and intelligent to be up there, and my hair is not nearly flicky enough. But Hackney Girl has given me a mission, and it seemed churlish to refuse – and hey, it’s all in the spirit of knocking a few of the ‘cherrylipz’ and ‘hazeleyze’ off there for five minutes.

So here’s my strategy – I’m favouriting as many men as possible, so that they favourite me back, and I’ve specified in my profile that I am impressed by men who can fart on demand. Trust me, it’s genius. Also, if they email me, I will tell them they are ‘like a ninja’. This never fails.

Mass favouriting is a tiring task, made more manageable by some sub-categorisation. So far I am ‘a fan’ of all the ginger men within a 40 mile radius of my house, as well as all the ones that speak Welsh, all the Geminis and all the doctors/dentists/vets. Also all the vegetarians, and all the freakishly tall ones that I missed the first time I went on there. Next I am finding all the Norwegians and anyone who ‘really likes tea’.

So wish me luck, fans of dating disasters. I’ll let you know how it goes . . .

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