Friday, 2 November 2012


While you ladies are out on your bad dates, 
this is the kind of hot fun I get up to at home. 
You know you're jealous...

It's Friday! Whoopee! 
I dimly remember a time when Friday was date night. I'm not sure when it became "Yay! Something's Gotta Give is on!" night, but that's what it is now. 
My time is precious and frankly, I would rather spend it sitting at home sticking pins in my eyes than going on a bad date. And there is almost no other kind of date. 
Who is to blame for this? I might be biased, but I'd say: Men.

Because I have a lot of friends who go on dates with men, and the things they tell me afterwards? Whoa. It makes you thankful God invented antibiotics.

Last week, for example, one of my friends called in a huff as she was getting ready for a date with some guy she'd met online. "Omigod, this dude has called me 15 times today. I'm sick to death of him and I haven't even met him yet!" Among the things that irked her were:  
A) he talked about himself B) he was already on his fourth beer C) he was calling from his mom's place (where I'm betting he lives) and told my friend his mother was being "a total b*tch."
At that one, my friend wisely cancelled. She stayed home, watched a movie and went to bed early. Welcome to my life, girlfriend.

Another friend was dating a man who seemed oddly elusive. He finally told her his ex was "still in the picture." Which is code for "we're sleeping together." He denied it, but then my friend called him and the ex answered. And started screaming at her for "hitting on" her man. 
Girlfriend: "I've got news for you, sister. That's NOT a man." Well played.

Then there was the guy who'd make elaborate plans and then break them at the last minute.
Him: "I was going to take you out to dinner to Scaramouche but then I got called in to work ..."
Him: "I was going to get tickets to the Madonna concert but then my dog got sick ...
Him: "I was going to fly us to Paris for the weekend but..."
Her: Dude, you don't get points for "was going to." You actually have to do the damn thing.

I could go on, but it's Friday; some of you have a hot date to get ready for. Which is great. Good for you! Don't let my negativity get you down. But if you could do me just one small favour? When If things go horribly (or even mildly) awry, email me ALL of the details. I enjoy nothing more than missing out on a bad date!

Editor's note: You really should have told me you were a man-hater before you hired me.
My  note: Shut the hell up and get back to editing, you obstreperous man-thing.