I have seriously been dickteased by guys that seem witty, funny, interesting, literate. Only to find out that they are NONE of those sexy things. And the pics they put on? No dude, that was 6 years and 50 pounds ago.

Granted, I have this pic up:

Oh you know...3 years and a few lbs ago

I show up to dates looking more like this.

Internet dating blueballs all around, I guess.

I have had the most amazing, random, hilarious, fun Christmas/New Years in England this year. It started off with a bang. Gorilla suits are the new snuggie. And don’t forget about the ass-crack of dawn fish market trip and fun times with Elf. Basically I didn’t think it could get better. Man was I wrong.

On Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) the only tradition is to eat leftovers and shop, as far as I can tell. My buddy Ben (previously starred here as The Elf) and I celebrated a tad different. Rob went hunting with some people from the village and they shot some pheasants and squirrels. but no one wanted the squirrels. Why in gods name would you shoot it then?!?!? GRRRR. Ben and I simply couldn’t let it go to waste.

Ben looked up how to skin a squirrel on Youtube and we followed the Good Sarge’s instructions:

Our victums, patiently waiting.

Ben seemed appropriately dressed for the occasion.

Ben is one denim jacket away from a Canadian tuxedo, even though we are in the Englsh Countryside...

Seriously, I was so stoked to have a go, I could barely wait for my turn. Sadly, the little guys were a little …stiff. I couldn’t wait for them to relax. So I took matters into my own hands.

I gently massaged the squirrel whilst Ben sang whale songs. I think it worked to get the furry little thing to loosen up.

And then I got down to business. That cute woodland creature was going DOWN.

Yes, I am fucking stoked to rip the skin off a rodent.

Oh shit. Roadblock. I had NO problem doing anything to the squirrel. But cut off his balls?!?!?!!??!? It took me a bit to work up to that one. There was a fair amount of wincing.

I've done it!!! (that crazed look in my eyes? That's the taste of blood.)

*insert comment here

So, the moral of this story is that if/when Armageddon comes, all you bitches will be beggin me to come live in your barricaded compound so I can feed you all with my mad Squirrel slaughtering skills. Just sayin.

Highlights include:

Getting up at 3:30 Christmas eve morning and driving an hour to London with Michelle in order t be there at the opening bell at 5. My fishmonger skills turned out handy at Billingsgate Market. We came home with lobster, crab, prawns, seabass, squid, and oysters. over 20 pounds of seafood.

Already bustling at 5 on Christmas Eve morning.

Michelle was a teeeeny bit excited.

It was a madhouse.

I had to talk her down from buying the whole lot.

The next thing I learned is that most Brits take the opportunity on Christmas Eve to go to the pub. So, not wanting to feel out of place, of Ben and I went to the pub. You know, the local pub I love? But of course we couldn’t go without wearing some horrible sweaters.

We met some new friends that were also in the spirit.

And then for the actual big day, Ben and I went to one of his friends’ houses in London. It was gorgeous. We all dressed absurdly. Ben won, though.

Not pictured: pointy, curved elf shoes with bells on the toes.

Christmas Climax.

Merry Christmas to all my my family and friends around this beautiful world.

In reality, though, I didn’t feel awkward at all. You know, no more than usual. We got along great, and were laughing our asses off. We were a few bottles of wine and a fair amount of cocktails in when we were at the second pub of the night. I noticed a huge Christmas tree out of the corner of my eye. I mean, it was just sitting there with its Christmas cheer, staring at me. Mocking me. So I tackled it to the ground.  Then we got kicked out.

We go back to new bf’s house, eat copious amounts of fried chicken and when it is time to go to sleep, I find out that he ONLY has the blanket that is the one on his bed. Come on, mate,  you don’t have ANY other blankets? The answer is no. So the only solution to keeping me warm on the couch at 4 in the morning is for me to put on a gorilla suit that new bf has in his costume box. So, down I tread to his stark white couch and pass out. I wake up in the morning to new bf’s SUPER hot roommate walking into the room in nothing but his towel and being surprised by a girl in a gorilla suit on his couch. To make conversation, he asks how my night went. I tell him that I wrestled a Christmas tree to the ground. His one and only response: “I fucking hate Christmas trees.” Well put, hottie.

Surprisingly warm

Creepy Goobs (gorilla boobs)

“Hi darling.. Are u looking for something diferent? Do u need slave for what u want? I can be your discreet slave on call!!!!! I love to wear ladies undies and much more ladies clothes and I love to do foot worship so can I suck your feet madam please.. Let me be your discreet slave!! Also I will pay u for your time!! So what u think about this madam? Can I be your discreet slave on call??? Xx”

With this photo attached:

Take a looong hard look...

Ahhh, the anonymity of the internet.

Let me makes something clear: To each their own. As long as there are consenting adults involved, I don’t care what your freak is. A little lead up to this proposal would be nice though!

• How in the FUCK am I supposed to respond to a message that, in its entirety, says “hi”? I mean these ones have no imagination. DELETE.
• The obligatory “I’m going to oil myself up, pump iron to look super stacked, take my shirt off and take a bare-chested pic of me in my dirty bathroom with my cell phone” shot? Eww.

Article #1-Shady….

Article #2-Douche

• Oh GOD. The grammar. And spelling. And punctuation. Or complete and utter lack of any of the previously mentioned. I mean I’m no model of grammar myself. Or decent writing. Or sentence structure that makes any sense at all. But come ON. Can’t you at least attempt?

• It would be good to have your profile pics in focus. That picture of the sunset with not one person in it? Don’t care. I’m not here to date a sunset. Wait just one minute! Dating the sunset….Hmmmm. Intriguing. At least Sunset is a reliable date…

• Group pictures as profile pics? Ok, I’ve figured out which one you are by my unparallelled powers of deduction. But, can I per chance, have your super hot friend’s phone number? Yeah, that one, the one directly on your left. Thanks.

• If I don’t respond to you, it’s because I’m not interested. That doesn’t mean I want increasingly enraged emails asking me “What’s wrong with me that you wouldn’t even have the decency to respond? Who do you think you are?!?!?” Stuck up bitch”. First, I sometimes get 30 emails a DAY. Second, do you really want me to tell you what is wrong with you? Really. Because I will. It will scar you for life. Instead I choose the polite way of simply not responding and deleting.

*Yes, I realize that I sound like a raging, judgey-faced bitch. Yes, I realize I should give people a break. But a warm and fuzzy blog about people doing their best to put themselves out there in the interwebs in a kind and respectful way? BOOOOORING.

Yeah, alright.

The other? Oh this is a good one.

Ok, so I have this date set up with this SUPER hottie. Like, Abercrombie and Fitch model, hot. We’ll say his user name is LoveLob. We started with a bit of witty banter over email. He opened with “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” I responded with “Probably because I’m really famous in Germany. I tour with The Hof.” We’ve talked on the phone. We’ve texting back and forth.

But something seems off though. For instance, he asks if I am going back to fishing. I respond, “I injured my arm last year, so as soon as I sort that out, I can’t wait to get back to it.” His response?

“Wait. Are you missing an arm?”

HUH?!?

Um, no, I have all my limbs and even all my fingers and toes.
Yeah alright, maybe he has an active imagination…at least that makes things interesting.

Anyway, he says a few more odd things and I decide to cancel, politely.

And then…he FLIPS. Starts emailing me, all crazy like. How I’ve made everything a nightmare, how dare I judge him, blah blah blah. I basically ignore him. I mean, come the fuck on. We have never even met!!

About 15 minutes later, I get a message from a user named Thunderpants that I had never seen on the god forsaken site before. First of all, ‘Thunderpants’?? AWESOME. Pants opens with a witty line and an attached pic of a SMOKIN bod. I mean, come on. You had me at Thunderpants. I click on the profile…

“I have a huge dong.”

With this picture attached:

Holy, hairy bear....yikes.

Another:

“I just wanted your honest female opinion! Would you say it was common for females to turn a guy down for being too big a size? If you know what I mean?”

Does this shit actually work with some women? I mean, it must at least once, right? Or else they wouldn’t try. It’s a numbers game.

And one more, just for shits and giggles:

“I’m French”

Ummmm…yeah?

Yeah, I know I’m not actually writing a blog, I’m just stealing these idiots’ words. Still funny to me though!.

This is today’s favorite email (in its entirety):

“I’m with my mum and dad for Christmas. Can I shag you for Easter?”

You know what?!? I was debating going away on holiday for Easter to somewhere warm, but you sold me. Let’s stay in your bland studio apartment and rut for a few days. Also, since you’re such a gent, it would be great if you let me do all the washing and ironing.

Just a little taste of the experience:

Random 22 year old punk emails me nothing but:

“Jesus. Scary.”

Really? You had to take time out of your day to type that and press send?

Well let me just set the stage a bit. I’ll let you know what my pics on the site(s) are, so you can see what they see:

Me and the dog drunk on Sangria

Lazing in Mexico

A typical dy at work.

Yeah, ok, so maybe that last one is a bit much. But I have to lighten it up somehow!

Alright, my friends and loved ones, that is all for now. I have to go drag up some freaks/assholes/liers from the interwebs for all of our amusement. I’m pretty much going to keep posting about the crazy shit guys email me and dates I go on. Stay tuned!