Friday, 9 December 2011

Bladder Boy

Hi and welcome back, thank you for your patience, I am hoping my newest adventures will make up for my absence. Please do enjoy my current escapades:

I recently went to see a band with a crazy friend from Liverpool. We drank, jived and sang along in standard Betty fashion. Following the performance my friend and I ventured out for some ‘fresh air’ and struck up conversation with some members of the band.
Several tequila shots later it seemed we had made some firm musically talented buddy’s. Along with the band was a mate of theirs that I appeared to warm to in my drunken haze. He was a northern musician; we shared the same birthday and seemed normal enough so I happily handed over my number to him when he left fairly early doors (should have seen this as an early sign of a bad match).

My friend and I partied on into the night (at one point my companion removed her top and threw it onto the stage in true rock and roll fashion.) and I completely forgot about the Music Boy.

I woke up to a few text messages from Music Boy and we had a friendly text exchange.
As the days progressed across the week text messages were taken up a notch with me receiving up to 4 in one sitting with no response from me, along with extra frequent phonecalls. Warning signs of an oddball but I thought I would still meet up with him when it was suggested, I had after all not exactly been inundated with date requests in the recent months.

We arranged to meet at a pub in Camden where some live music was taking pace, ideal Betty first date scenario.
Meeting outside the tube I instantly realised Music Boy was definitely not the tall, older and cool musician I had in my head; he was more a slight indie version of Justin Bieber than Charlie Fink. A shame but maybe we would at least get on as friends I convinced myself.

On arrival in the pub Music Boy disappeared straight to the bar and shortly after returned clutching a freshly poured pint; looking eagerly at his other hand I quickly caught on to the fact that I had not been included in this round, interesting approach. He then requested that I hold his drank while he headed off to the toilet to empty his bladder. This was not a good start, I glanced at the door contemplating making a hasty exit but he was back before I could make tracks.
Trying to shake off the bad feeling about the drink scenario I ordered a bucket of wine at the bar and gave conversation a go.

Luckily for me an hour into the evening I bumped into some work colleagues and I was given a slight outlet. One of my work mates kindly offered to buy us all a drink and Music boy leapt straight on the offer, falling over himself to join him at the bar, attractive. (I also received feedback following events that Music boy smoked pretty much an entire packet of my friend’s cigarettes in just two fresh air visits.)

Nearing the end of the disastrous evening my work mate placed his drink down on the side for a moment and on retrieval found Music Boy downing the remainder of the glass. (I have since learnt that the technical term for this act is ‘minesweeping’)

This was all too much, even for Betty dating standards. I quietly crept away from the ridiculous scene to subtly put my coat on and make an emergency solo exit. Before I could even pick up my coat Music Boy appeared out of nowhere asking if I was leaving and that he would come with me after he had been to the toilet.
Feeling bad I waited while he made use of the facilities and we left the pub. 2 seconds down the road Music Boy announced that he needed to go to the toilet again and dashed across the road to a closing pub.

Finally we made it on the tube where a few stops along the northern line Music Boy announced to me he would be leaving at the next stop so that he could go to the toilet, he also added that he always needs to plan his journeys in this careful manner so that he can go to the toilet on route.

A few things:
Please note I was in fact on a date with a healthy 25 year old not a 90 year old man.
He has now been renamed from Music boy to Bladder Boy; I think you can understand the reasoning behind this.
The night ended with me rejecting his offer of a kiss and instead offering him my cheek, which he proceeded to lick.
I will not be returning his persistent calls/texts.
A brilliant end to a great year of successful dating.

Friday, 12 August 2011

Saw 3 Dan

Now I feel my internet dating dabbles have been pretty disastrous (please refer to The Sober Date and Return of Betty) but after hearing this story from a friend this weekend I have realised I got off pretty lightly with savoury snack cheersing and strange emails:

My friend Kate* had been chatting to Dan* fairly frequently on one of the more serious focused dating websites, they seemed to get along well and so decided to meet up for some drinks in the centre of town.

After some enjoyable times in the pub the pair decided to head back to Dan’s abode for some further beverages, so far so good. 

When they got in Kate sat down while Dan selected a film for them to watch- Saw 3.
An interesting first date choice but Kate went with it (although confused as to why he particularly opted for the third film).

After half an hour of blood filled debauchery onscreen Dan appeared to want to make himself more comfortable and slipped off his trousers and sat silently in his pants.

A few minutes passed and it would appear Dan was still not comfortable and so he decided to ditch the boxers. After sitting for a while he asked Kate if she would like another drink and sauntered off to the kitchen to get the wine, tackle swinging freely around in the process.

It is at this point I question as to why Kate did not make a sharp exit but instead she accepted the wine and tried to carry on as normal.
That was until Dan began to pleasure himself whilst staring at the screen. Yes that is right, Dan was partaking in some solo action whilst using the third in the Saw series as his porn.

Again most normal people would have fled the scene and just banked it as a good pub story but not Kate ladies and gentlemen, when I questioned what she did she simply shrugged and said '‘well I helped him out’'

Romance apparently is not dead.
* As always names have been changed (slightly) to protect embarrassment, although not Saw 3 Dan, he deserves to be outed

Wednesday, 20 July 2011

For folks sake

A short interlude but I felt I should share this random snippet of a Bettyism that took place on a bog standard Tuesday evening:

For those that know me personally will know I have a big weakness for live music and discovering new bands, I love it, it gets me through the working week.

Last night I ventured off to see a folky band I am a big fan of in central London.
After a good time of drinking, singing and dancing about, the next thing I know I am waking up in a very green bunk bed in Kings Cross surrounded by instruments and more bunk beds containing the entire band. It was like being in some kind of musical army barracks. I would like to clarify straight away (and to my relief) that I was fully clothed even complete with shoes.

After taking in my odd surroundings I announced to the lead singer snoozing next to me that he looked different to normal (charming), leapt over a cello and was out of the door.

I now sit at my desk in yesterdays clothes (that I also slept in), reassessing my life- I am no longer a 20 year old student, it really is time to be reunited with that sensible part of my brain.

On another note I consider- why on earth am I still single?!

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

How not to get a date Betty style

Recently after enjoying a day of sunshine and the finest cava/cider combo in a South West London sun spot, my friends and I decided to continue on the happy sunny vibe in a bar (first mistake).

It was while enjoying a stimulating game of '‘I have never’' and several jagerbombs (second mistake) that a slightly recognisable guy walked over to me and asked

‘’Did you go to <middle of the range university name> and have a mangled finger?’’

My response was to nod, grin and proudly wangle my bent/lumpy/disturbing looking finger in his face. (Long story on the origins but I have touched upon it in my introduction post).

Turned out (obviously) to be someone I shared drunken student memories with 5 years prior- small world and all that.
Apparently said guy had seen me around the South West parts a few times (stalker) but had refrained from approaching me in the past as he was scared I may not be THE mangled finger girl- very pleased to have such a classy reputation from my uni days.

We exchanged numbers and later on my friends and I partied on with uni buddy and co.
The rest of the evening turned into a bit of a blur but I think I recall wine and dance moves being busted out which is slightly worrying, also potential of a bit of snogging action but this is all presumption on my part.

The next thing I knew I was waking up (fully clothed I will add) in a strange house with a pretty fusty smell invading my nose.

I remained in my duvet cocoon for a while trying to regrow the memory cells that had been cruelly killed off with a rather large concoction of juvenile drinking games and alcohol.

I eventually sat up to see uni buddy bustling around the room, slowly the earlier part of the evening came back to me and I at least knew who I was with.

I glanced in a mirror and realised apparently overnight I had turned into Slash- huge hair, make up smudged, eyes like pin holes- beautiful.
I also realised around the same moment i still felt a tad intoxicated and started babbling on as a result. Turned out everything I said/asked we had apparently touched upon the night before, damn my boozey memory.

Rewind a few hours:
Now the background that leads up to this point of the story is based on a hazy memory and feedback from uni bud, I do not hold any responsibility for the reliability of the social inept accusations that take place:

We apparently skipped off merrily in a taxi to uni buds abode in a different town.
Having no recollection of any taxi ride I had asked if we were in the area we were drinking in, uni bud seemed to take offence to this and began to realise the true extent of my memory loss, it appears I am quite good at concealing it at the time.

On return to the house it appeared we had continued the drinking- evidence of this was in the lounge where there sat a half drunk cider tinnie (mine) and a polished off bottle of Peroni (his)- I do sometimes worry about my ability to consume such large quantities of alcohol.

During our drunken slurs in-depth conversation, uni bud politely offered to take me out to which I allegedly barked in response ‘’only if it is to do with live music’'
Now I know I am quite the enthusiast for live music and do rate gigs as one of my top things to do, but I don’t think this is really quite the manner to approach an offer of a date, especially as they have been very few and far between this year.

I walked into the bedroom to announce immediately ‘’It STINKS in here’’ (always the charmer) and then proceed to collapse in the bed and sleep like a baby.

A true romantic tale.

Fast forward back to the morning
We stumbled out together pretty early doors as uni bud had to get to some charity work that he does every weekend (bless) but yet miraculously still with talk of meeting up in the near future. 

I now await to see if this was polite exit chat on his part or if he does in fact want to be charmed by Betty once again.

Question- will I hear from uni buddy again and do you think that date offer will still truly stand after this episode?!

Friday, 6 May 2011

Return of Betty

It has been a while readers, I apologise, it wasn’t you it was me, I promise I will change and put in more time and commitment these days.

A few things to report from my disastrous and inept world here in London, here's your first slightly depressing instalment:

Once again after much self protest I rejoined the wonders of mysinglefriend- once again I was in immediate regret at paying to receive email messages from weirdos.

My favourite of an odd bunch came from David; he had only the one very close up picture of himself which did reveal a hint of home and away eyes and a very ornament heavy shelving unit in the background:

Hello Betty,

So do you like dancing? - what type? I've recently taken up salsa and am actually really enjoying it - albeit that this was recently curtailed by a comedy dislocation of my knee at an 80s party involving a dorset naga chilli, batfink, top gun and a moustache....

Given the slightly random nature of this whole online dating thing, here are some random facts about me:

• my nickname at primary school was Dougal because one of the guys couldn't pronounce my surname and thought I looked like the dog from the magic has stuck ever since
• I dislocated my knee dancing to kung fu fighting at uni - very very embarrassing!
• At the risk of making myself sound geeky, I'm a big roller coaster fanatic, and would think nothing of travelling half the world to try out the latest thrill machines!!
• I'm also a bit of a pyromaniac nut and put on a big fireworks display at least once a year for friends

What are some random facts about you?

Anyway, if you fancy a drink and a giggle, it would be great to hear from you.

P.S. I know Kung Fu!

A salsa dancing, injury-prone, kung fo fighter and roller coaster fanatic that resembles Dougal from the Magic Roundabout- Salsa dancing makes me cringe, I am terrified of heights and exceptionally scared of the phrase ‘pyromaniac nut’- I was not convinced I wanted to join him for a giggle or share my ‘random facts’.

I have chosen not to renew the subscription and am removing myself entirely- I mean it this time, me and internet dating are over. (Please remind me of this in a few months whenever I show tell tale signs of weakness in my posts).

I am heading out to London town tonight to sample the real world and not act overly drunk and stupid- any chat up lines to rival my usual Barry chat up line very welcomed at this stage.

Wednesday, 6 April 2011

Sniff Speed Dating


Dear Betty,

We’re really excited that you are joining join Daz generic washing powder brand and our celebrity host Jennifer Ellison to give your senses the work out they deserve! Below is a top line overview of what to expect on the night – the night is completely free and it’s going to be lots of fun!

On the night:
There will be three rounds all based around the scents and smells that really get you going.  For each round you will be asked to discuss smells that either take you back, represent you or just something you couldn’t live without.
With complimentary cocktails and canap├ęs on arrival, come along, join in the antics and celebrate the launch of two great smelling varieties – Mandarin and Lime Splash and Summer Flower Power.

We look forward to seeing you there!
Dating Original

Last Wednesday after bribing with the idea of free booze rounding up some eager single troops, I headed out to the inner (non homosexual) area of Soho to take part in the latest cheap promotion dating craze- sniff speed dating. Why I was initially targeted for this campaign is uncertain to me but meeting the men of London over free cocktails sounded a bit win win, even if we did have to revolve the conversation around aromas. 

The event was in a members only exclusive club- basically a very small overly white room with a shit load of mirrors, perfect.

My first date, a bald, awkward lawyer who lived scarily close to me in SW London, opened the ‘date’ by pulling out the following:

  • Play doh
  • Savlon cream
  • Haribo sweets

Read into this what you will but at first I was terrified and pretty baffled as to where he had been prior to the event- Turned out he had taken the whole smell thing one step further and brought along props to back up his childhood smells- interesting start.

Next up a wasted dude called Jake, he swayed away from the smell discussion and instead asked me an interesting array of questions mainly revolved around my sexual preferences- considerate research?!

During my third date with a pretty awkward guy that looked like he worked in IT, the 'celebrity' guest mosied on up to us, plastered a massive fake smile on her chops and proceeded to ask if we had yet found 'love at first sniff' (genius pun) in probably the strongest scouse accent I have ever come across.

Brilliant, that got rid of the weird/forced atmosphere, especially as so far we had barely said hello.
Didn't think it could get anymore awkward until I managed to flick my marking pen lid right in her face smacking her in the eyebrow- she didn't find it as funny as me, surprisingly.

Date 4- Drunk guy's equally as drunk mate who out did him with the questions incorporating both the smell theme and sexual preferences- nice.

Date 5- Nervous Neil who wouldn’t look me in the eye and looked at least 20 years older than me.

Date 6- Cakey Collin who was walking around with a squashed fruit cake in his pocket (his favourite childhood scent apparently).

Date 7- A friendly guy from Turkey who proceeded to tell me he was searching for a wife like his sister who was living in Istanbul.

Things were getting very odd.

When the final bell rang I was surrounded by an impressive amount of empty cocktail glasses and yet my score sheet had been completely disregarded- not even alcohol goggles were helping out here.
When reunited with my friends we heard over the mic that the second half would commence in 10 minutes.
One quick look to the door, no words uttered just a simple nod, we made a break for it, each grabbing the goodie bag on route.

A few lessons learnt from this new dating experience:

  • Smell isn’t the best discussion topic when dating.
  • Jennifer Ellison is not a fan of Betty or flying pen lids.
  • Free dating events attract attractive women accompanied by equally attractive friends…
  • They also unfortunately attract oddball men who turn up solo.
  • The new Summer Flower Power liquid wash really is a smell sensation.
One question- should I give the bog standard speed dating a whirl?

Monday, 28 March 2011

Tanorexic Betty

Recently I gave the whole fake tan idea a whirl, I was off to a wedding and felt the need to up my effort and do a bit of self maintenance. Not being a regular user the obvious happened and I got a bit tan happy, end result left me looking a bit like an extra for The Only way is Essex, brilliant.

When discussing the tanning delights with an old university friend she was quick to remind me of my old tanning habits with photographic evidence to back up her point.

Ladies and gentlemen I am now sharing with you this imagery as a way of educating anyone that turns to the bottle- live and learn. Do enjoy my pain:

Lessons learnt-  two applications ARE enough and always remember to do the entire body including the face.

Wednesday, 9 March 2011

X-rated Betty (almost)

*Reader warning- this post contains some references of an embarrassing sexual nature*

Back when I was a young fresh faced student I had many an awkward moment with the male species. I was newly single when I packed up my wears, headed northwards to uni and was not entirely sure how to act with this new role in the big world of undergraduate freedom.

One extreme case was when a male friend of mine from the village days decided to try his hand at student life for a weekend and came to visit me in my student digs.

After a night of drinking £1 voddy red bulls and cheeky vimtos, villager and I decided it was a good idea to go over the friend barrier and stumbled back to my breeze block bedroom.
Being the safe responsible young girlie I am I had a collection of protection devices in my top drawer and handed one over.

Village boy fumbled around for a while with said protection device and appeared to be struggling somewhat. Without warning he headed to my en-suite (posh student) and all that could be heard was a pretty eye watering snapping noise.

5 minutes passed and he returned to my single bed and lay next to me without a word. We both stared at the ceiling in silence, until in a very confused tone he announced ‘I don’t know if I have suddenly had a growth spurt but that wasn’t going on for anything.’

Suddenly remembering the range of free ‘protection devices’ I had picked up at the fresher fair I gasped and turned on the light- my suspicions were realised, I had handed over the item branded ‘trim’ on the front- I had wondered what all that was about, all made sense now. (Guess I should have been somewhat pleased it wasn’t of a sufficient fit).

Village boy was in a fair amount of pain the following day as he had in fact managed to shoe horn the item on for a few seconds (got to give the guy credit for his determination).

The next night however the usual student drunken blur resumed and we found ourselves back in my single bed in the same situation. This time I was certain there were no more trim antics and I confidently handed over the contraception. The awkward fumbling passion continued until he let out a shriek, jumped off the bed and shouted loudly ‘it’s burning.’
Panicked I turned the light on- the packet read ‘menthol.’

Some lessons learnt from this experience:
  • Always check the small print
  • Always leave the light on
  • It wasn’t meant to be with village boy

Tuesday, 1 March 2011

Betty no dates

2011 so far has been very low down on the Betty dating stakes- I have basically not had a single glimmer of a date, it is now March, this is depressing.

My friends have been suggesting I re-visit the online dating world after I dismissed it so suddenly following my pasty date.

I did start to contemplate this option as partying and acting drunk/stupid busy London life seems to be getting in the way of meeting any potentials in the real world, apart from of course the lovely ‘Pants man’ and his award winning chat up line.

After much debate with myself I reluctantly logged into my account and read my first new message as below:

‘Even if it might feel a bit hard to talk to an unfamiliar guy.. who actually is kind inside, please surprise me Betty.. and drop me a line about how you are .. believe me it is at least as hard for me to start a conversation with someone who is only a bit more than a picture from the internet at the moment.. :) But I would like to know you a bit better.
Myself, I am looking for a human being in a female body! to have a chat and fun with. I think the reason behind this website is to have a nice time without force so let’s start with some light fun chat if you feel like, I would really appreciate it.
Where about in London do you live?’

I logged out.
Confirmed- Internet dating is not my bag.
I think I am going to give speed dating a bash.
Any other suggestions welcomed at this point.

Friday, 18 February 2011

Best chat up line ever- honest

This is a very short post which isn’t really a true post but i thought my readers and fellow blogger's would enjoy this snippet.

On Friday evening while patiently waiting to be served in a London pub I recevied THE best chat up line ever. A rather vertically challenged guy with a line shaved in his brow stated:

‘’Your eyes just made me come in my pants.’’

Definition of charmer. I was so overwhelmed all I could muster together to say was

‘‘Do you want a tissue?!’’

My love life is getting a tad depressing. Please help.

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Betty and the Banker- Take 2

CONTINUED......(please read part 1)

Asked banker where he wanted to go he told me he had already pre planned where we would be heading for dinner- nice work organiser, I was impressed….until he led us through the town to the door of GBK. Now I am no snob or money grabber but I had a few issues with this plan:

1. The burgers are MASSIVE how on earth was I supposed to eat this with any kind of dignity? I had enough problems with the everyday knife and fork option with my wonky finger.
2. It is a restaurant that constantly makes an appearance on voucher codes
3. This guy earns a packet- his average bonus is more than I earn in a year and wasn’t shy in telling me (basically all he had spoken about the whole walk) why were we heading to an awkward to eat budget restaurant?!
4. I prefer Nandos

We sat down and after looking at all the tasty options I decided in order to best avoid obvious food spillage dramas I would have to opt for the vegetarian option- a giant mushroom pretending to be a burger- great.
He asked me what I wanted and after a slight look of disgust at my beverage choice of Savanna Dry he hot footed it to the counter where he proceeded to pull out a buy one get one free print out voucher- tight arse.

On return to the table banker continued with his money chat, finding himself hilarious with tales of his prediction of the credit crisis years ago and how he had actually benefited greatly from the downfall- really start to dislike this man and he had an ugly laugh with a sporadic snort.

Food arrived which instantly caused a huge pang of food envy- he had a burger piled with tasty treats, I had a big flat mushroom in bread. Take my anger out on the ketchup bottle which results in splash back on my lap-attractive.
Banker was now talking in detail of his second interest- Star Wars, this is beginning to turn into my absolute nightmare date, have a sneaky look around for hidden cameras, and unfortunately the conclusion is that this was in fact real.  

Following an extremely dull dinner with very little discussion on my part- I think I only spoke to let him know that he could tell me about the big bang theory if he wanted but I really wouldn’t listen, he went ahead and I true to my word zoned out, I did pre warn- we headed off to a bar. I was hoping that alcohol would maybe perk up this ridiculously dull/annoying situation.

After one drink we sat with empty glasses for an uncomfortable amount of time- I asked banker if we were having another drink or if he needed to get home. His response '‘Well I went to the bar and got the last drink so I really think it is your turn.'’ Holding my irritation I asked what he would like, his response ‘'a double JD and coke.’'

Now although I do believe in equality and do often offer to buy drinks on dates, this joker had been basically bragging about his earnings all night, surely I could at least be rewarded with a few drinks for listening to him bleat on? Also when he purchased the drinks he went for a budget pint of larger- what’s with the upgrade?

Most of my friends do tell me at this point I should have brought the two drinks, downed them both in front of him and then walked out without a word- I wish I had thought of this at the time.
Instead I stomp to the bar and remembering one of his rants from earlier on in the bar about girls drinking pints I opt for a pint of Hoegaarden which is served in a glass the size of my face, ask for his drink to be served in a small tumbler to make the impact even more effective.

Bang the huge glass down on the table and give Banker a sweet smile, he looked at me as though I had removed his carefully placed handkerchief and burnt it in front of his face (what I really wanted to do).
He drank down his drink in a record time of ten seconds not saying a word; I carefully slurped my giant beer holding it with two hands like a child with a beaker of milk. He no longer appeared to be talking, snorting or laughing- result.
Two seconds later he made his excuses and left me to my big beer, I called my best mate and we drank three more pints and a bottle of red wine- silver lining.

I refrained from contacting him again.
He did the same.
Not sure I will be dating a banker again

Friday, 11 February 2011

Betty and the Banker

Yesterday I was stumbling around The City of London (banker paradise) clutching Google map print outs, getting extremely lost trying to find venues to view for work.
In my polka dot coat, bright red shoes and crazy miss-matching scarf, I definitely did not fit into the suited and booted environment- I looked like a CBBC presenter on a scavenger hunt.

This episode took me right back to a date I had in my early days of London life when I agreed to go out with a banker, the experience I think contributed towards my allergy for them these days.

Here is the Betty B-esque tale:

I had always been a little wary of the whole banker idea being a general indie scruff that hangs out in Camden rather than Mayfair, but when I was asked out on a date within my first few weeks in London I thought I should go for it. It was my first date in the big city (and actual first date after a 4 year relationship), I needed to get back out on the scene plus rumour had it they earn a pretty hefty whack- not that I am materialistic but with the big move I was living like a student, a nice dinner would go down a right treat.

I first met the guy in question on a random night out in East London with new work colleagues; he just bowled over to us, brought us wine and asked for my business card- all new to me. It would seem pulling in the big smoke was altogether very different to the approach further North that I had been used to (usually involving bum gropes, bright coloured shots, unsubtle winks, thumbs up and high fives.)

On the evening of the date I met him at the train station ready and raring to take on the dating world idea, proud that I was already on a big date in the city- the London slightly clumsier version of Carrie Bradshaw, brilliant.

I instantly noticed that he was extremely suited up, shiny shoes, ironed shirt to the point of OCD standards and to top it off some kind of handkerchief in his top pocket (who owns handkerchiefs these days?!) Had a little look down at my appearance and was not entirely convinced he was going to dig the leopard print pumps and skinny jeans combo I had going on- I really should have run at this point…..

Thursday, 3 February 2011

Textual Healing

So ladies, gentlemen, fellow bloggers and nosey friends, It would appear that I have managed to gain a target for the sex texting project 2011… it would also appear that I have absolutely no idea how to handle it.

I received a text message of the x-rated variety out of the blue late last night but instead of getting stuck in with a steamy response I was a tad shocked, humoured and embarrassed.

Now don’t get me wrong I am no prude and enjoy naughtiness as much as the next person but seriously how can you transfer this into characters, abbreviations and suggestive wink faces?!
It feels a completely impossible task to carry out without sounding like you are lifting lines from a bad porno or your Mum's Jackie Collins novel. Basically I admit it- I clearly have not mastered the language of text dirty talk.

When discovering this phenomenon it would seem even the coyest of my friends were freely embracing the textual intercourse and enjoying it along the way- why can I, as one of the louder varieties, not do the same?!

Do not fear I am not a quitter, I am determined to conquer my newly found fear and carry out this field research but any tips/advice/words of encouragement greatly appreciated.

I will be sure to report on any developments, do enjoy my embarrassing journey.

Thursday, 27 January 2011

Dating memoirs of Betty B

My new year’s resolution to get back out there and up my dating game has fallen at the first hurdle- I have not partaken in a singular date or even mild flirtation all month- disappointing but I blame the January blues/slump- London and I are not ourselves right now.

During this slight glitch in my plans I have been looking back to when I did enjoy one nighters, dates, flings and (gasp) relationships and reflecting on how I achieved this.
And so I introduce you to- Pulling tips by Betty B: (take notes ladies*)

  • Do pull up a bar stool nosily from one side of the pub to the other, put it next to you and rub the seat in a circular motion while staring at the victim, he will sit there and chat-eventually.
  • Do introduce dance moves to your strategy, recommendations include the ‘doll’ dance- this involves placing your index finger onto the victims head and encouragingly voicing the word spin over and over until they respond, no matter how reluctant they enjoy it.
  • If you have a plaster cast on your arm do use it to your full advantage- guys will be impressed if you consistently whack them on the head with it.
  • Do ‘pretend’ to think they are of a homosexual nature and invite them to join you on a hunt for some men
  • Do respond to a half naked picture message sent to you by your conquest with a picture of you leaping about in a banana suit.
  • Do, after inviting your victim over, collapse in your front garden with your handbag spilt out everywhere after drinking blue aftershock for the first time- what man doesn’t want to rescue a damsel in distress? (please note this was a very early conquest- may no longer be applicable)
  • Do impress them at the after party of a boozy wedding with the concept of ‘kettle beer’ when there is no alcohol available at back at the accommodation. To carry this out simply remove the standard kettle from the hotel room and lean over the closed hotel bar to fill the kettle to the brim- winner.
  • Do ask them if they can touch their toes and then proceed to prove that you can.
* Disclaimer- although the above tips did in fact work I do not hold any responsibility for potential failures but will take credit for success stories

Monday, 17 January 2011

From Hawaii to South London

I just wanted to quickly share a very amusing story that occurred this weekend as I think you may enjoy and it is too funny to not make a blog entry.

Saturday night I went to a good friend’s fancy dress party, the night was a Hawaiian theme and we enjoyed boozing from coconuts, splashing about in paddling pools and jiving to tin drum sound affects- brilliant.

I was obviously being my usual inept self and concentrating more on acting like a drunken buffoon than trying out the whole pulling concept (something that I need to change if I am ever going to get a sex texting victim). I did however actively encourage my friend (dressed as Hawaiian Barbie) to get with one of the camouflage boys that were dancing around the palm trees.

Victory occurred and they headed off into the night to go back to her house in South West London- always like to help out a friend.

Disaster struck for the newly found lovers though on return to the house when Barbie realised she had left her bag at the party- in north west London- error.

Now most people would have reluctantly either headed back to the party or checked into a nearby hotel but this girl is definitely not ‘most people.’ Instead she convinced army boy to jump over the fence and check out the garden with her as her dog was in the house and he would get lonely(?!)

And so ladies and gents after much debate Barbie and Action man had their romantic time on a Christmas tree box in a garden shed under a picnic blanket surrounded by a full range of gardening equipment- epic.

Now this in itself is amusing enough but early in the morning action man made his excuses and made a get away back to North London (can we really blame him?). Barbie decided that enough was enough, she couldn’t face shed life solo and with the aid of paint pot smashed the back window and crawled through into the house greeted by her lonely dog.

A few hours passed and Barbie had a realisation that she did not want to foot the bill of said window and so in a quick wave of genius she called the police thinking she would simply get a crime reference number to give to the landlord- job done.

The reality-two police officers with forensics to take finger prints etc rocking up to fully investigate the matter. Now it is worth mentioning that Action man was in fact a very wealthy city banker with a PHD, not really someone to go round breaking into houses, yet clearly his finger prints will be all over the gaff.

Barbie was truly terrified when the police pointed to two surveillance cameras on the wall behind the house that clearly face onto the garden and announced they would check the footage as they were almost certain to have picked up the crime scene. I really do want to be there when they sit and down and witness Hawaiian Barbie in a pink grass skirt bash down a window with a dulux pot. – only my friends.

Friday, 7 January 2011

Macho Macho Man?!

Recently my friends and colleagues have commented that my personality represents not that of the average 20 something girl but that of a bloke.- brilliant. I would take offence but when looking into it I reckon I am in the better place.

Here are 6 key signs that I have a blokey personality

  • I am scared of commitment of any kind- The thought of owning a hoover freaks me out let alone a house, I literally run when the word ‘relationship’ is used in reference to me and my chest goes tight when I think about weddings and babies. My commitments in life are my season ticket, my mobile contract and my feline creature- even this is sometimes too much to bear.
  • I never go to the doctors- Apparently this is a man trait, I personally think it just shows that I am nails. When I was 19 I broke my finger pretty badly (my engagement finger no less) and after the operations I got bored of going back and so I am now left with the most mangled looking bent finger known- never going to get a ring on that, think this might be why I refuse to go back and get it sorted- fate.
  • I do not have the ability to over analyse- I think this is more lack of attention span but according to the masses this is a blokey thing. I do find it pretty baffling when I am forced to partake in conversations about what the text message ACTUALLY means, why he REALLY brought flowers and what EXACTLY he is doing on his boy’s night out.- Why don’t we just concentrate on enjoying ourselves instead?!
  • I am a very bad texter- Again I put this down to my attention span but yes I will admit it, I tend to read messages and put my phone back in my bag, rather than responding with xx’s, smiley faces and Lols. People have started to learn to call; it is the only way to get the answers. I am however hoping that I can brush up my skills with the aid of my sex texting project.
  • I enjoy pints of beer especially following a big night out (best cure)- Friends are split on this one, some are on my side and happily join me with a good Peroni, some think it is the worst thing in the world and stare at me with disgust when I order such a beverage (only encourages me). Are there really such rules behind your drink of choice?!
  • I have no tact/social awareness- I ask inappropriate would you rather questions on first dates that involve sanitary protection and human excrement, I confess sex stories with colleagues of all levels in the pub and use saracasm as a chat up method.
To end please do not think I am some kind of outlandish butch tomboy that hates everything feminine, truth be told I do buy too many shoes, probably wear far too much make up, read fashion magazines and enjoy trashy TV especially on the E entertainment channel, I just embrace the blokey traits that come naturally to me, no shame.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Sex Texting??

This is a quick snippet to question- is sex texting the new ‘must do’ craze?

I have recently had a conversation in my office with a certain lady I will not name and shame (have learnt from my indiscreet ‘gravy gate’) about her recent saucy messaging habit with a guy she has dated once and is due to meet for a liaison. Being the obvious sweet and innocent girl (ahem) I have never undertaken such activities and thought this was an odd idea until, after a wider discussion, I found that many of my friends are partaking in this phenomenon and enjoying it.

Now I feel maybe this is where I have been going wrong- I need to spice things up with the aid of my blackberry (not physically). Obviously I first need some kind of target to try out my research so I am now on the spy for a suitable date/texter recipient to see if this theory will perk up my love life from the shambles that was 2010.

One friend, when I described this new project suggested I find a suitable man through the ‘can you kick it’ game.  When asked for specific game details turns out that you write ‘can you kick it’ into a text message and send out to made up numbers until you receive a ‘yes you can’ response. Apparently this could be a great opportunity to then introduce the dirty texting.

This however has many flaws:
1) It could be a woman- I know the love life has been less than successful over the past year but I’m not ready to turn to that quite yet
2) It may be a minor- enough said, I am not looking to get arrested for your entertainment
3) It could be an old/hairy/short man- I only want to turn on an attractive breed thank you very much

I think I will turn on the Betty B charm in person for this one, pull out all the stops- thumb wars, shoulder dance moves, the works.

I may however need some advice on how you get the err ball rolling on the texting side?!
Do I launch straight in all body parts and positions or do I go for the soft and subtle approach? Detailed/descriptive or mysterious/teasing? – This is all new territory for me, any tips welcomed!

Wish me luck