Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Men’

They say you have to kiss a few frogs before you actually meet prince charming, which in non Disney terms roughly translates to “you have to date a few twats before you meet Mr Right”.

For women, this tends to mean that your 20’s are filled with a lot of trial-and-error dating, which consists of one dead end relationship after another, until you finally meet someone who doesn’t make you want to turn to drinking and/or violence.

Until then, there is a whole array of d**kheads which we can work our way through, and let’s be honest, if you say you haven’t dated at least one of the following, you’d probably be lying:

The Fear Of Commitment Dude
fear-of-comittment-scared-men-dating-gif

You know the one. This is the guy you date for a year who still won’t change his relationship status on Facebook, or so much as call you his girlfriend to his mates. He wants the perks of a relationship without the pressure of putting any sort of label on it. He doesn’t feel he has to text you every day, because he’s a “free spirit” and isn’t ready for all that serious stuff.

He will ultimately break up with you, because, despite the fact you’ve never so much as mentioned him meeting your parents, he’s inwardly paranoid that you’ve been organising your wedding since the moment you met.

The Patronizing 30 Year Old Dude
Older-men-serious-patronising-hello-kitty-gif

Eventually, every 20 something girl will make the executive decision to date an older man. She’s worked her way through enough “boys” who don’t know how to treat her right and decided that she needs an older, more mature lover. Someone who can afford to take her on fabulous dates and isn’t afraid of discussing the future.

The trouble with “older” men is that you’re now considered the “immature” one in the relationship. They don’t understand why you need to go clubbing, wear short dresses or get drunk on Apple Sours and before you know it you’re the one deemed not serious enough.

The “I’m Not Ready For A Relationship” But Is Dating Someone Else 2 Weeks Later Dude

millie-made-in-chelsea-slap-gif-angry

There’s always one guy, who wants to “keep it casual” with you because of some half baked excuse or other. He’s just come out of a serious relationship or he’s focusing on his career right now (blah blah).

You date him because you’re fabulous and you’re sure that he’ll change his mind once he gets to know you. But, when true to form you fail to get him to commit you call it a day, usually on fairly good terms because lets face it, the boy already told you that he wasn’t ready for love.

It’s all fine. That is until one month later, you find out that Mr. I’m Not Ready is dating someone else.

The Overly Attached Dude
please-leave-me-alone-gif

Then there are the ones who want you a little bit too much.

I know how this sounds… one minute we’re moaning that men don’t want to settle down and the next minute we’re saying they’re too clingy. These poor fella’s just can’t win.

But any girl who has dated an “overly attached guy” knows exactly what I mean. You’ve been on two dates and he’s talking about the future, tries to introduce you to his mum and texts you every waking moment of the God damn day. He’s constantly telling you he misses you (even though he was with you 30 minutes ago) and despite the fact you don’t even know his surname yet, he’s acting like you are the love of his life.

The Can’t Kiss For S**t Dude
bad-kisser-tongue-face-licking-blonde-date

It has been said that these creatures are the most deceptive of all, because on the outside they look just like me and you. Sexy, smart, clever, confident and witty. FINALLY a guy you can get on board with.

They drop you off at the end of your first date and lean in to make this good date even better.

Of course it’s only after he’s finished prodding your tonsils with his tongue that you work out how on earth this amazing catch is still single. At this point you ask yourself three questions: 1. Can I fix this 2. Is my lip bruised 3. I wonder if I change my number if he’ll get the hint.

The “I’m Not Like Other Guys” Dude
promise-nice-guy

Guys who claim they “aren’t like other guys” are the worst kind of guys. They are the ones who know they are d***heads and make a conscious effort to cover it up.

The Cheapskate Dude
you-get-nothing-cheap-cheapskate-gif

This is the classic “shall we go for a drive” guy. Because driving to McDonald’s for a milkshake and 6 nuggets is a hell of a lot cheaper than taking you to dinner.

If you agree to the drive you should know that date two will then be “do you want to come over for a movie” because why the hell should he pay £40 for cinema tickets and popcorn when he can download the damn thing for free and serve you those fancy chili crisps his mum brought last week.

The “Do You Really Need To Go Out With Your Friends” Dude
boring-fun-stay-home-gif

The controlling guy. He’s always complaining about something or other because he likes to establish his dominance whenever and wherever possible. A dog wee’s on a tree to mark his territory. A controlling man pisses all over your parade to establish his.

Despite his other very wonderful qualities, eventually you know you’re going to ditch him, because frankly, no grown woman likes being told what to do. Except in the bedroom maybe.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

First of all, let it be known, I can be pretty stupid sometimes.

I mean I can’t spell to save my life (in fact I have spell-check to thank for my degree) and just yesterday I had to ask my mum if Capers were those little fish things (turns out I meant sardines). So perhaps I am being slightly liberal by putting myself in the ‘Brains’ category, but for the sake of my argument, lets just go with it.

Now I’ve done my research. And most guys want both: Brains and Beauty. I don’t blame them, hell I agree with them. But let’s be honest sometimes the world’s just not that kind.

When forced to make a choice, general consensus was (insert manly voice here) “brains every time because we love a girl who can carry a conversation”. I can almost hear the world-wide sigh of relief while mascara wands are being put down the nation over. So being able to carry a conversation is sexy now? 1 point to me.

Of course that’s all very well in theory. And I know the female population isn’t exactly divided into two categories ‘hot’ or ‘not’. One man’s Angelina Jolie may be another’s Susan Boyle (sorry Susan). But the fact of the matter is I’ve never heard of a model or an actress incapable of finding herself a boyfriend. But a doctor, a nurse, a female comedian? Different matter altogether.

Sometimes we like to flatter ourselves and say that men can’t handle strong opinionated women. But then I remember my mum’s married, and they don’t come much more opinionated than her. So that definitely can’t be the problem.

The real issue is, that the men who claim they don’t like beautiful girls probably feel this way because they think, they’d never be able to get one anyway. As for the rest of them? These men who say they like to be ‘intellectually stimulated’. Well lets face it, when you’re talking to a group of girls on a night out. Which one do you remember? The one with the banter? Or the one with the great face and huge tits? Say it. Don’t worry, I won’t judge you. If I was standing next to someone with a face like Jesse Williams, no amount of wit and charm would distract me either.

You see in theory most guys do want a funny girl they can talk football to and argue about which Lord of the Rings film was better. In practically we haven’t evolved all that much from the caveman days. And nothing gets those clubs swinging like a sexy little slave girl who knows her way around the cave. And by cave I mean bedroom.

Of course none of us would ever admit to being this fundamentally shallow. When asked, 90% of us will pick ‘personality’ over ‘looks’ every time. Which is lovely. And would be even lovelier if it were true.

In actuality, pre-marriage, people don’t pick their partners based on their mutual liking for late night spooning sessions and staring into each others eyes. You pick them based on how much of a sexy-beast you’d look, standing next to them. But don’t worry about it. You can all continue to chat up the sexiest girl who’ll listen. And in turn we’ll all continue applying make-up and wearing push up bras and pretending we’re naturally this pretty.

I mean lets face it, when you start dating a new girl, your friends will ask to see a picture of her. Not hear a recent joke she’s told you. And whether you want it to or not, it starts to matter.

Read Full Post »

“If a guy takes an hour to reply to your text, take three to reply to his.” “If you like a guy, flirt with someone else in front of him to make him jealous.” “If a guy is talking to other girls, tell him it doesn’t bother you, and then he’ll like you for not being clingy”.

What. The. Fuck.

And I thought game playing was just for children.

Image taken from: http://www.naomishow.com/

When did this happen? One moment I was 14 years old watching The Notebook, believing love was all about eating ice-cream and jumping into ponds (what, don’t judge me, that film can melt the heart of a Rhino). Next thing I know, I’m being told the best way to get a guy’s attention is by updating my bbm status so he’ll notice and think to message me.

Honestly now? Relying on status updates to get a little action. Is that where we’re at?

I have friends getting married. Like actually walking-down-the-aisle, big-white-dress, forever-and-ever, probably-gonna pop-out-a-baby-soon, married. And here the rest of us are, staring at our phones, wondering if a more attractive display picture will eventually lead to a conversation.

Okay so admittedly that’s not what I want. Come on, I’m 21. I’m too selfish to get married yet. My idea of a sacrifice is eating canned food for three weeks so I can afford the latest Carvela seven inch wonders. The biggest lifelong commitment I plan to make any time soon, is to my bank, when I ask them to extend my overdraft by another thousand pounds.

So I’m never going to be the clingy “I found love after one date” kinda girl. Hell I’m the “I’ve been on five dates and I’m still not sure about him” chick. I suppose that’s my own doing. Indecisiveness is a horrible quality. To date, there is no found cure.

Back to the point.

I may hold my cards close to my chest, but there’s nothing expert about the way I play. Most of the time I’m bluffing, and the rest, I’m just trying to distract you so I can take a peak at your hand.

It seems I’m not very good at games. And judging by my other single friends, neither are they. No we do not want to bare your children (baby induced stretch marks are soo last season). No we’re probably not going to marry you. And I can’t speak for the others on this last one, but I’ve never been very good at the whole, Lady and the Tramp style spaghetti eating (I’m Greek we don’t share food) it may be romantic but you’ll have to do without. Though if you’re nice I might give you my very last rolo, heck some day I might even buy you a packet of your own.

In the mean time I don’t mind a game or two. After all it bores me when things come too easily. A bit like out-eating the diabetic kid at the Mars bar eat-a-thon. Though, if this is what we’re doing now, could someone please hand me the rulebook and let it be known, that I don’t like to lose.

Read Full Post »

I’ve never been a fan of metrosexuality; there’s something distinctly unattractive about a man who takes several hours longer than me to get ready for a night out.

My advice would be, if it takes longer than ten minutes to fix your hair in the morning, cut it off. If you have a deeply receding hairline, just own it and shave it off. And lastly if you plan to kiss a girl, she’s probably going to want to run her fingers through your hair, when she does this, she doesn’t want to get stuck in there, so seriously, go easy on the hair gel.

Shower. Every day. Don’t look at me like that. You may think this is common sense, but millions of others don’t. Having lived in halls of residence way back in my first year of university I learnt many things: canned spaghetti bolognaise takes a lot like boiled tomatoes, 100 shots of beer will probably make you sick, and men do not wash nearly as often as us women would like to think.

Also, I’m not sure if this turning-your-boxers-inside-out rumour is true, but I’m telling you from now, short of chlamydia, skid-marks on the outside of your boxers are about the least sexy thing a woman can find down there. There is never a good enough excuse for this. Someone broke into your house and stole every last piece of clothing you own? Manufacture a man-diaper out of towels if you have to, and waddle over to your nearest Primark.

Being an innocent and virtuous girl, I am in no position to confirm this, however I have it on good authority that some men don’t taste great. Don’t all rush for the Listerine; I’m not talking about your mouths. What you eat effects your body fluids, so perhaps instead of three burgers a day, consider switching over to a salad every once in a while. I’ve heard pineapple also works wonders, so how about you give it a go?

I know what you’re thinking, sounds like a lot of unnecessary work made up by women to feel like their men are contributing something to the relationship. And I suppose that’s fair enough, but next time your misses is ‘too tired’ to give you a little BJ, you’re going to have to wonder if some melon for breakfast would have resulted in a three-course orgasm for lunch.

Every woman likes a man who knows how to dress well; but when it comes down to it we’re all much more concerned about what’s underneath the Armani shirt. Every girl is different, some like men who wear designer brands; others really couldn’t care less what the guy wears as long as his mother didn’t make it.

Personally I have a particular aversion to men wearing pink or baby blue. But let’s be honest, if a girls been single for a while, upon meeting an attractive man, unless he’s wearing bright tangerine with baby pink trimmings, she probably wouldn’t care less about what he’s wearing.

Of course everyone’s different and the girls like myself who want Manolo Blahnik’s more than they want children are probably shallow enough to be a little put off by a man who dresses badly. But I beg of you, don’t hold it against us; we also happen to be our own worst critics.

If you happen to fall for one such (slightly) shallow creature, all is not lost. When in doubt: turn to dark jeans and black shirts. As for shoes, avoid dirty white trainers and pretty much anything with tassels.

Take it from me, what my advice lacks in scientific backing, it makes up for in life experience.

Read Full Post »

Number one: do not insert your penis into any other area of any other woman. It does not matter how substantial your excuse may be, forgiveness is out of the question. Some women are insecure enough to stand by you despite your penal misdirection, but they’ll never truly forgive you.

I mean feel free to give it your best shot, and get real creative with the excuses; but it still won’t be good enough. Someone spiked your orange juice with Viagra and then you tripped over your pants and fell into her? Yawn. Better yet, you had an incurable disease and she was the only cure. I’m just not interested, and neither will she be.

Number two: Don’t always give her what she wants. Didn’t expect that one did you? Well I’m admitting that us women can be a bit of a handful, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put us back in our place (and no I’m not referring to the kitchen). Someone telling me to sit down and stop being so bloody annoying: kind of a turn on. After all, if I wanted a doormat I’d go to B&Q.

Alternatively some ladies demand a lot of presents (usually an after effect of the daddy’s girl syndrome) and while there’s nothing wrong with wanting, they should also become familiarised with the word ‘no’.  Eventually you’re going to have to decipher whom she’s planning on getting serious with: you or your credit card. And if it is the credit card, then you need to tell her to unhand the Prada and get a Saturday job.

Other girls demand a lot of time. Remember those guys you used to watch Top Gear with, the ones who used to kick your butt at Call of Duty, the ones who you’d watch every Spurs match of the season with? You know… your friends. Well they are unimpressed with the fact that every Friday night you now abandon them to be with your subsequent lover, feeding each other grapes, or whatever it is people in relationships do these days. And they will remain unimpressed four months down the line when you’ve broken up with your ball and chain and want someone to drown your sorrows with.

Number three: Don’t tell her you love her, unless you happen to mean it. Not being fully acquainted with the emotion myself, I’ll keep the advice giving at a minimum. Every girl wants to be told they’re loved. No girl wants to be told she’s loved only to find out three weeks later that what you actually loved was the fact she makes a killer hot-pot and bends like a pretzel.

Print this out if you have to, tattoo it to your foot, anything you like: stick to this guide and the chances of your past lovers torturing a miniature-voodoo-you on a weekly basis in hopes you’ll fall down the stairs and break both your arms will be significantly reduced. As the meerkat would say… simples.

Read Full Post »

2 months. 4 men. 17 dates. All in the name of education.

Every single girl in London knows that if you want love you have to make it happen. Watching back-to-back episodes of Sex and the City in pyjamas and seven-inch heels will only result in probable obesity and definite singleness. And so, after months of dating just two men (Ben & Jerry) I decided it was time to throw myself back in the game.

Attracting men has never been too difficult for me, (the calibre of these men that I entice is however another matter in itself). While I’m not a raging beauty, with appropriate amounts of makeup and high enough shoes I am attractive enough. It was this, plus a little attitude (wholly attributable to the Jack and Coke), which ended the night with me giving my card to Adonis number 1.

Of the 17 dates to follow, 5 belonged to him. He was funny, and smart (a rarity for north London boys) and I found myself willing to overlook his shortcomings. Short being the optimum word here. Not that I can talk, I barely scrape a less than respectable 5”2 and while I compensate this with my heels, he compensated with wit.

Man number 2. I met him in a bar, sexy, confident, doesn’t drive. The shallow girl inside me with the skyscraper standards wants to write him off, but the new optimist in me happily accepts his offer of a date. Dinner he says. I’m nervous; no man has ever taken me to dinner on a first date. Drinks: yes, cinema: of course, milkshake bar: a million times… but dinner? Never.

Perhaps in my 21-year search for the perfect man I had been stupidly dismissing some great guys. I’d been allowing myself to be consumed by their flaws, as if I didn’t have any of my own! Does it really matter if a guy can’t drive, if he doesn’t have a job, if he carries a man-bag? So what, I’m flawed too.

Man number 3: a friend of a friend. A casually set up double date, a probable result of my friends thinking I was likely to end up a spinster, living in a loveless house filled with designer handbags and cocktail shakers. He was quiet: something I assumed to be a result shyness, but later discovered was a side effect of a tequila-fuelled party the night before. But he paid, and he drove an Audi which lets face it – helps.

Another man, I was feeling cocky now. This one started with a kiss. He had character, confidence and the tattoo sealed the deal. He made me forget number 1, 2 and 3 very quickly. This was the kind of guy I wanted; he commanded both my attention, and me. The dating game could finally end.

Let’s face it; the others just weren’t what I was looking for. Number 1 made me pay on the first date, and number 2, well he couldn’t kiss and while Number 3 was okay, since every other conversation started with “your body’s so hot” I can only assume it wasn’t marriage he was after. No no, they were all wrong for me, THIS boy here was what I had been waiting for.

I had learnt a lesson you see: dating should be a lot like buying the perfect pair of shoes. It should excite you, make you happy and lift you higher than you were before. And number 4: he was like the Christian Louboutin banana shoe: next to him the others were just cheap knockoffs. I was finally getting what I deserved.

He never called.

Read Full Post »