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Stupid Questions men ask part 1

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Categories: DATING TIPS, Tags: , , , , , , ,

I know that dating can be nerve wracking for some people. I don’t know why as at the end of the day you should be more worried that they impress you than whether or not you impress them but then, this is coming from the queen of first dates. I can do them in my sleep and often do have a little power nap / auto pilot moment for those who are so boring that I start wondering what noises Masterchef’s Greg Wallace is making that day. But what I’ve come to realise is that men don’t veer from the script much and so tend to ask the same stupid transparent questions. All of these questions are somewhat surprisingly about their chances of getting sex. So be warned my precious that what seems like a perfectly innocent question can be an attempt to get into your knickers. Quelle surprise!

1. Can you cook?

EVERYONE can cook. Hasn’t Jamie Oliver proved that? And all in 30 minutes too. (Dear Jamie, please note that shopping for ingredients, chopping and general phfaffing makes it closer to 3 hours but I understand that for catchy marketing purposes you had to lie to the British public)

Men love to throw out the old adage ‘a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ but he’s not trying to give you his heart now is he? No he is trying to give you his head…no  my precious, LOWER.

Asking if she enjoys cooking is fine but ‘can you’ is subjective. I think my cooked breakfasts are yummy but ask me to make curry goat  or anything which requires spicing, marinating for days etc and  you’re gonna see me reaching to call a friend or asking google.

Basically this is a potential wife question and therefore inappropriate on a 1st or 2nd date. One of my friends said to me that he wouldn’t date a girl who couldn’t cook or clean. Pity because those girls often can do both but chooses to spend time doing other things that ….he can’t do for himself.  Get Nandos to do the cooking dear and then find other ways to feed her.

The real question he wants to ask and can’t is …will he have to get up and get dressed in between shagging sessions to refuel. Because if it’s a yes then he’s going to miss out on his post coital nap and be a grumpy git for the rest of the day. My advice is stock that fridge with guy friendly M&S food my precious and remember they don’t eat like we do. A couple of pieces of fruit and one chicken breast doesn’t keep his strength up for round 2. That said best you tell him that you’ll answer later and if round 1 was rubbish tell him you can’t cook or that you haven’t got anything in.

2How is a girl like you still single?

This is meant to be a compliment but really isn’t. He’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with you. There are only a few options for why a girl is single. Either she’s

a)      crazy,

b)      recently split from an idiot,

c)       on a break (tired of the BS),

d)      bitter.

e)      She’s not willing to settle for mediocrity

The majority of women are e).  Men asking this question is redundant unless they are trying to figure out if you are crazy or bitter and therefore more likely to be a freak apparently. There are a lot of men out there who like bitter and crazy women. Angry and crazy sex are fine I guess if you aren’t able to evoke any other emotional response from a woman. But that suggests that you aren’t that accomplished a lover, right? Just a thought.

Can’t a girl be single because she is single anymore? Sometimes I say I’m not single and that my husband is waiting outside in the car with the kids. Can he watch then join in? Nothing ends a date quicker than the potential husband in a wardrobe with a camcorder scenario.  Who knew there were so many shy men out there?

And note this my precious: whilst he asks this question he rarely answers it for fear of exposing a wife or girlfriend. I always ask for a definition of single just to be sure that we both mean the same thing

Tomorrow I have the 2nd part of stupid questions men ask. Are you adventurous being my least favourite. Hmmm, something tells me this could be a hat trick of blogs?

(c) Chelsea Black

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The Butt kick

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Categories: Misadventures, Read More, Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

So there was a time my precious when I couldn’t get a date for love nor money. Separation agreed I still needed to ‘get back out there’ as everyone put it and start the bloody dance of the terrible one liners

But back out where? The dating scene had changed beyond my recognition. I, like most of those who married in their 20s hadn’t dated properly since my university days. Then when I was bored with the current pickings on campus I would simply pick another module on another campus. Please note a major in African Feminist Literature is perhaps not the best degree to finding good dating stock. I should have done what some of the women did and thought ahead. Engineering and Medicine was scattered with women who were there to meet their FuHu’s (Future Husbands) and never intended to work a day after that. So I left uni with a BA degree which included modules in Zoology, Chemistry and French all of which I can’t remember

Back in the last millennium I would just go out to bars with my single friends but I was surrounded by friends who were surrounded by nappies. I had to face facts; after a long relationship I was basically not dating fit. The internet had come and passed me by. I had just about learned how to text properly on my Nokia. Remember them? Yes it was that long ago. My soon to be ex-husband however had somehow managed to keep his techy skills up, mainly through porn so was a whizz at navigating the web. I was staring at a lot of TV nights in. But you know me my precious I’m nothing if not determined. I was not going to let him win. I mean, I needed to ‘get back out there’. But where to start?

Like a good African girl I went to the one place I knew I would get unbiased advice. My father. Bless him he told me to wait my prince would come. Did he not know that a thirty something divorcee was not really the rage? He argued that I was smart and I argued that unless he was willing to pay for a boob job smarts weren’t really selling well on the dating market. So I was left with no other option but to go to my biased advice option. Mama Black. She half listened to my tales of woe tried to convince me that seducing my ex into at least giving us grandkids was still a viable option then dragged me upstairs.

At first I thought this was yet another weight “put down the chocolate” conversation but instead of turning right into the bathroom she took me to the spare room and the computer. There began my dating journey. This woman had accounts to them all. Dating Direct, Loopy Love (where she met a guy who had a thing for women with one leg – that was a short subscription) Meetic, Match.com and much much more. Overload. Was I supposed to join them all?

Apparently so. My mum is nothing if not focussed on her goals

1) getting grandchildren she can spoil incessantly and set up against us at whim.

2) reminding me that by the time she was 30 she had 3 kids under 5

3) Getting me a man whose sperm would not embarrass her in her grandma circles. The woman seemed to be able to look at a profile and know whether he was going to ‘shoot cute.’ Many of those with similar interests didn’t make the cute.

I went away and figured that in time I would find the energy to start dating again. I wasn’t ready to shop online for a date. But Mama Black wasn’t having any of it. No sooner had I reached home I had received a cut and paste of a conversation she was having with a younger guy. 42. 2Bit young isn’t he?” I asked her. “NOT FOR ME, FOR YOU!” she shouted back, Bless her she is great on dating sites but caps lock still defeats her  I read through the conversation and she was plugging me to a stranger who wasn’t my type at all. I now realise she did this on purpose to kick me up into action.

So I reluctantly asked my ex to take some semi decent photos of me. He, recognising that this may mean my butt dent was finally going to pop from our couch seized the chance and took great photos. I mean so great that my dodgy write up was ignored and guys just commented on the pictures.

And thus began my dating post marriage tales. Now 5 years later and I regret to admit that I’m a pro. I can write profiles for friends, spot a dud at 4 lines and know that 2 inches should be taken off anything with measurements.

Hmmm, wonder if I have a future career as a dating online Private Investigator?

© Chelsea Black

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The Wanker

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Categories: Misadventures, Read More, Tags: , , , , , , ,

I have met some interesting characters. Some cute others weird and some so scary that I have their details in a file called Missing in case I ever go missing. Please my precious review this file carefully and submit to the appropriate authorities if ever you lose me.

One of these characters was a guy called The Wanker. Not his birth name admittedly he was a Caribbean born male with a beautiful lilting accent and the frame of a sprinter. Well he would have done if he hadn’t eaten his way through the pie shop. But there was something sweet about him. We met on a dating site and initially he pretended to want a relationship but after I made it clear we weren’t a match he opened up about his…needs.

Working late night at hotels can be very dull. The Wanker used to use the time effectively to chat to random strangers online including me. On nights off he would be found travelling to exotic places like Luton and Kent for sex. But sadly for The Wanker he was no oil painting. One time he spent all night talking to a woman who invited him to Luton for a hot and heavy session. He arrived at the woman’s house; she took one peek out of the window, gasped and promptly switched off all of the lights and pretended not to be home. That was one long frustrating drive back to South London for The Wanker.

Between wanks we would talk. He had been single for a while and being new to the country didn’t have a wide circle of friends and family. He was a sweetheart bless him something told me that we weren’t a match. But, he loved to wank off and talk dirty. It was not to the sound of my voice thankfully but to the sound of his own. He would sit there and tell me what he was going to do to me when he saw me and then, all too soon it would be over.

I had my script. I sat at home giving myself a pedicure and moaned at the appropriate places. I gave the occasion oooh yeah, yeah baby. Little did he know I was talking to the Haribos. Then he would cum, thank me politely and tell me about his latest aborted attempt to meet up with some woman from the internet. He wasn’t having much luck. He offered to come to visit me one night but I wasn’t having it. My bed was assembled by my own fair hands and I don’t think it would have taken his weight.  I am many things my precious but a DIY expert I am not.

I soon tired of Wanker. Mainly because there is only so much pleasure I can get from listening to the fantasies of a guy who was struggling to transition from the virtual to real life. I also found it really tiring trying to think up different ways to feign interest and fake an orgasm. I wasn’t really inspired and drama wasn’t my strongest subject at school. Besides,  I believe an orgasm is only as good as the person giving it to you.

However it helped improve my phone sex and I learned that for some there is satisfaction in just being heard.

© Chelsea Black

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