Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Back to the drawing board?

Attractive only to P V Glob 
It's been a rather dry month for new contacts. Here are some of the highlights:

- A cousin of the Tollund Man, from Staines, who wants to share tea and "banter"... 

- "Mr Efervescent" who is too bubbly to check the dictionary and see his username is spelt incorrectly, and thinks a mildly homophobic joke makea good introduction.
I don't want to wake up with you.

- Shapher, who makes the extraordinary claim: "In the near future I am going to be one of the best selling authors in the world". Yes, we did both read that correctly...

- Mark, a lumpish Pole, who believes in "Cerpe Diem" (which I first misread as "Herpes Diem") and looks like he's wearing a wig.

- Dan, who sent me the following incisive yet tantalising message: "Hi." (Yes, that really was it).

And how about this for a bizarre introduction from someone who seems to have forgotten that he has already sent me this email (or a variant of it) twice before, at six monthly intervals: 

I suppose I could begin with a harmless, mundane opening email that induces a yawn in you but won't offend and may well lead to a harmless, mundane reply in return. We then spent a few months emailing pleasantries to each other, at the end of which we decide to meet up. If we haven't slit our wrists in boredom by then, that is.
So I'll just be honest here and say that you're cute. Superficial I know but screw it, I'm a man and blame it on that y chromosome. Fancy a drink?
His profile only further enhances the impression of a tolerant, agreeable, open-minded, jolly good sport:
- cooking (I do a fair bit. I mean good, solid, old-fashioned french+italian cooking. So if you dislike butter & garlic, piss off).  
- Real ale. Belgian trappist beer. German weissbier. Old-man pubs (preferably full of old men, rather than wanky advertising types). 
- opera (it's not just for posh tossers. The music and singing are actually rather good) 
-jazz (no wanky modern stuff - mostly crackly old recordings from the 1920s-40s) 
Talk about a glaring mismatching of style to audience and occasion... With this man I'd probably be asking for "a kick in the c*nt" if I tuned into the "wrong" radio station. And in light of my intellectual revulsion, there is really no need to venture into the aesthetic with any commentary on the photo evidence of his extreme swollen-faced morbid obesity...
Not lying: he was much bigger than this.

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