One Night Stand Anyone?

In the hopes of not sounding like a two dollar hooker when I write this blog, I need you to remember we’ve all had them, most of us hated them but a lucky few have met their soulmate through them.

The legendary one night stand (ONS).

Personally I’ve never had any success from the process and I’m not sure if this is to do with fleeing the scene of the crime or perhaps I just don’t test well. When I have ‘auditioned’ I found  myself longing to leave money on the dresser for a laugh but being the cheap bastard I am, the most I’ve ever left is a business card some guy gave me with ‘call me’ written on it. I like to think Mr ONS  spent some time thinking back to our encounter desperately trying to remember if he had sex with a man.

I can’t see how you can drunkenly hook up with someone and then form a meaningful relationship but then again a random drunken snog at a bar usually leads to love or at least a facebook relationship update.

Perhaps the world is getting sluttier and sex with strangers will become like a nice firm handshake.

No Glove No Love 

‘It’s not a one night stand, it’s an audition’

x

Hand Holding Is For Losers

If a couple are walking slowly on a narrow side walk holding hands and have the misfortune to be in front of me, they might catch a brick to the head.

I don’t even think I could call this a pet peeve as it would diminish the mental torment it causes me. I may have to call it a peeve which sounds less cute and more urinary related but still I may just go with it to get my point across.

What are these people thinking?! Are they trying to inspire envy or jealousy by proclaiming their couple status.

Wow I’m so jealous you can’t move  towards a destination without clutching  the hand of your loved one like a life line to happiness.

As a rule people who refuse to let go of their held hands also walk slowly like they’re flipping the middle finger at single people for both their inability to find a mate and then at the fast pace they chose to live life at. I like having a life that requires me to move at London pace even when going to the corner shop.

Damn those affectionate bastards for making people walk around them and their sweaty joined hands.

Don’t they have places to be?