"How would your friends describe you?"

A few months ago a friend and I made a pact; if we were still single by New Year then we would sign up to internet dating. As you may have noticed, it’s New Year. I also only have 5 months to get a date before my brother’s wedding. So I have once again started the barrel cleaning adventure that is online dating. After the turn out of my last attempt I have to admit to being a little nervous, however I refuse to be one of those people that moan about things without doing anything positive to change it. Those people present the opportunity for tea cup rim sharpening.

The actual matches and subsequent computerised conversation is one thing but the building of your profile is just exhausting. First you have to sift through a series of questions and suddenly try and answer for the opinions of others. When asked about yourself you can never tell the truth as they are all pre-prepared answers.

How would your friends describe you? - Honest, Friendly, Shy etc.

What about ‘none of the above’? My friends would describe me as ‘an averagely intelligent core wrapped in a geeky outer. Probably insane with a cynicism that may one day end the lives of several humans and the construction of a real life Death Star just for personal shits and giggles’.  And yet this option does not appear anywhere.

How would you describe your physical build? Athletic, Curvy etc.

A series of hot dog rolls placed both vertically and horizontal, that sometimes squidgy together forming a red zebra crossing.

Then you have to select what you are looking for in a partner. There was one question that got me stumped. How important is your partner’s physical appearance? Now if I say ‘Very’ I will probably end up with self obsessed Ken Dolls that are only on the site because the plastic factory blew up. They would probably also wonder why I am appearing in their section with my lack of hair extensions and what race I am considering my lack of orange tint. The conclusion most likely being that I am albino. On the other hand if I say ‘not at all’ I will end up with a series of men with teeth that resemble stone henge and use a rag on a stick to reach that ‘hard to get to’ places. I know beggars can’t be choosers but there is no such thing as a sexy marshmallow man.

Picture time. Why am I drunk in all these photos? The rest involve me in an array of fancy dress that may show an obsession with role play to an internet pervert. So I have to look through all my photos. Why do I have so many photos of Bonobo monkeys? Oh wait, that’s me? What happens to my nose when it’s in front of a camera? I don’t want to shock you but I may be Elmo’s mum.

The final profile prep is writing up things like your hobbies. Here comes the problem; I don’t have a lot of hobbies that don’t make me seem like a 12 year old boy or 50 year old woman but I do have this (my blog). Do I put it on there? How would I even go about explaining it considering its content? ‘If you would like to re-live the most embarrassing moments of my life for a risk assessment and find out the size of my ex-boyfriends penis then go crazy’...

Cycling and comics it is.  

"New year, new me"

I hate New Years Eve. It's just another day and yet it seems to have the ability to turn multitudes of people into bumbling idiots. Every year even the smartest of people start spouting tripe like "New year, new me". This usually lasts about a day when they realise that you can't control everything and Lindt tastes better than lettuce. Then the next year they will make the exact same resolutions like a retarded Duracell bunny. New Year can only really be useful in a time scale capacity. For example The Keeper of The Boy (my brother’s fiancé) is using it as a countdown to their wedding. This leaves me with 5 months to get a date, be prepared for hilarity! I’m using it as only 6.5 months until the summer holidays. The August pay day is the best. You basically get paid to do bugger all. I like to think of it as hazard pay. Teachers and lecturers need hazard pay. There is nothing more hazardous than battling the mine-field that is the emotional state of a teenager. Additionally there is the cataclysmic student breakdown when they realise that getting a degree is hard. This usually happens at the end of the 1st or 3rd semester.

"Well done you've figured out that getting a degree is hard, you're a fudging genius, no wonder you got onto this course".  Just before Christmas I said "no shit Sherlock" to three different students!

NYE is of course an opportunity to party. Many take this as a brushing off of last year’s troubles. I take it as a pre-war high. The cosmos is a bitch and will treat you like hell for the rest of your life no matter what you do on NYE, so you might as well be drunk whilst she screws you. I've spent exactly one NYE out in town, preferring private parties and the local pub with friends. NYE in town is ridiculous.

The night started with me and a few other girls attempting to squeeze into dresses. Whilst I do enjoy dressing nice, I much prefer the comfort of shorts or jeans, however I was informed that part of going out on NYE is lifting your ass into a dress that it’s sure to fall out of later. Out we went where the current boyfriend dragged us from bar to bar. There was no difference between these bars. All were crowded beyond capacity, playing music loud enough to make a deaf mans ears bleed, ready tp get you into debt with £9 drinks and leading to the one activity you can do; stand... and possibly gig on the spot a bit. What’s the fudging point? Sardines don’t sit in a tin thinking ‘Hell yeah, those humans don’t know what they’re missing’. But apparently someone believes that they do and enticed people with £3 entry. So I stand there gulping vodka while the boyfriend holds my ass in my dress before there is a tongue down my throat.

“What the fudge? Oh right that song that no-one knows the words to but everyone holds hands is playing, it must be New Year. That song really needs a better dance. Ewww I can taste Fosters. A Fosters tongue slug is how I see in the New Year, well that bodes well”.

As we trudge back home 3 hours later everyone is happy and screaming about what a great night it was.

“Have I missed something? I could have stood in my living room doing the exact same thing for a lot less money and then pay for the hit man to take out the guy who thought the sardines have a good life. I put it down to them being drunk. Light weights. And as for the boyfriend drinking Fosters, that’s practically water all he should be feeling is fully hydrated”.

This experience and others did however lead to a good game this year; NYE Bingo. 25 squares of NYE hilarity and embarrassment you are bound to see. A game for both enjoyment and judgement. Here are a few example squares to get you started on your own game.

1) A crying girl.  There’s always some girl crying. Her boyfriend has made a tit of himself, she’s still fat despite last year’s resolution or she’s so drunk that the alcohol is actually seeping from her eyes, it doesn’t matter which one as long as she’s crying. Usually snotting over her River Island ass-holder dress.

2) A man pissing outside. This is genius. Whilst it looks like a one-eyed worm wrapped in spam, you have to marvel at the penis’s accessibility. Whilst women have to wait in line on NYE surrounded by vomiting Oompah Lumpahs, and girls with frication burn on their knees, men manage to pee anywhere. And they do.

3) Vomit. Suddenly on NYE the streets become covered in vomit and the risk of tripping over a pea like marbles on a lino floor becomes increasingly likely. Why is there always pea’s in vomit?