Saturday 1st May
Hungover. Went to the pub after the film last night to analyse exactly why it sucked balls. After about five pints and a couple of shots, we came to the conclusion that the reason was because it just did. Insightful! We should have our own column in Empire magazine.
It seems that alcohol+me+computer = email prostitute. Replied to Sandra and asked if I could finish on her face. I guess she didn’t have a ‘client’ tonight because she got back to me within about twenty minutes saying: ‘Hi Honey! You can finish on me wherever you like 😉 Sx’
I then asked if I could finish in her mouth. She said: ‘Sorry Honey, no CIM, no OWO. You can finish on my tummy, tits, bum or face, or inside me with protection (no anal though). 😉 Sx’
…I guess she could pre-empt what my next question was going to be.
In some ways it’s a better way to conduct your relationships. There’s no misunderstandings, you both know what the other one wants, so no one gets hurt. The only main downsides are massive expenditure and becoming HIV positive, which when you look at it, aren’t worth the risk. Although if I didn’t have intercourse with her, and didn’t let her suck me off, even with a condom on, and just got a handjob, then that reduces the risks significantly… unless she’s got some kind of open sore on her palm. I didn’t reply after that, and deleted the emails. It was fun, but not for me.
Sunday 2nd May
Bank holiday tomorrow, so the back to school blues haven’t set in today. Went to a bootsale this morning with Panda and Ed. Panda got some vinyl, but Ed and I have come to realise that the stuff on offer is really awful. Everything’s either dirty, broken or both. Also, a lot of it is probably nicked. Greg at work said his allotment was broken into once and they took all his tools. A couple of weeks later, he found them at a bootsale being sold by some dodgy pikey.
Don’t think I’ll go to another one.
We went for sausage, egg muffins at McDonalds afterwards. Those things are so damn tasty. Didn’t double sausage it today. I wanted to, but after jumping on the scales yesterday and seeing that I’m 13 stone 4, I thought it would be a bad idea.
I’ve got to lose weight. Either lose weight or, like Beth, accept that I’m going to be a fat fuck. Maybe I’ll start running, that’s good exercise.
If I got down to 12 stone, then I could go mental and eat myself back up to 12 and a half, then diet back to 12, and so on. Not sure it’s the healthiest way to live, but it’s better than finding out I’m 14 stone, which is going to happen if I keep up this unhealthy lifestyle.
Monday 3rd May
Bank Holidays – a time when everyone relishes not having to go to work, and decides to make the most of it, but ends up sitting on their arse doing nothing for most of it, like I have for the past four hours.
Keep thinking about Sandra. Been on her website a few times already today to look at her pics. Also searched for some reviews of her, but could only find the ones on her guestbook, which don’t give much detail.
Gonna go out. Fancy some nachos with all the dips and cheese and stuff on it. I’ll have to start the diet tomorrow – even sharing the nachos with Ed means I’ll have a calorie intake of about seven thousand. Add the beers to that and I’ll be well on my way to becoming Beth.
Stole a bottle of booze from Panda’s stash and drank it with Ed, whilst watching Tremors – possibly one of the best movies ever made.
Just emailed Sandra asking if she’s available this Friday night. I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
No reply yet – probably up to her muff in cock.
Tuesday 4th May
Sandra’s free. I’m booked in. Can’t believe I’m going to see a hooker. At least I’ll be having some kind of physical interaction, I guess. I don’t think I’m actually going to have sex with her, but the kissing, cuddling, touching her up and jizzing on her will be enough. After that, hopefully moving on from Hannah won’t seem such a big deal.
Wednesday 5th May
Feel nervous , excited, a bit sick, horny and disgusted with myself, if I’m honest. Don’t know which one to listen to. I know it’s a bad idea. I know it has risks, and a stigma attached to it, but if it’s not full sex, and I don’t tell anyone, what does it matter? I’m not using her, she’s doing it anyway! According to her website she loves sex… although even I can see that that’s probably just window dressing to draw you in. I just want someone to hold me. I’ll probably spend the hour crying in her arms and just as I’m ready to be given an orgasm, my time will run out.
Thursday 6th May
Might start doing some running. Need some proper gear though – perhaps start with some shoes.
Hundred quid for running shoes! That’s madness! There’s less material in them than normal shoes!
Feel sick about tomorrow.
Friday 7th May
Just emailed Sandra saying I won’t be able to make it.
I really want to do it. I can’t stop looking at the pictures on her website, and the thought of actually being with someone where it’s purely about pleasure is really exciting, but I don’t know how I’ll feel once it’s over. If I do it, I’ll worry that she’s given me something. Even if it’s not full sex I’ll end up convincing myself I’m riddled with viruses.
Work really dragged on. Sandra emailed and said no worries. She asked if I wanted to set up another date. I told her I’d get back to her when I knew I was free.
Another night spent picking the flaky skin off my diseased finger. Still, if I’d done anything with Sandra I’d probably end up picking flaky skin off my cock. I should go to the doctors about it really.
Beth’s birthday tomorrow. She’s going out for a Chinese with some people and asked if I wanted to go. No I don’t.
Saturday 8th May
Undecided if I made the right decision. On paper I definitely did, but in my head I have a constant voice telling me to just do it. I can’t stop checking her website. Also, she’s definitely one of the more expensive escorts, and only sees men over 30 who are professionals, so I would have thought that the kind of blokes visiting her wouldn’t be the kind to have diseases. You never really know though, I guess, and that’s the point. That said, I could pull some slapper in a club and bang her and there’s just as much chance that she’s got something. Possibly more chance! At least Sandra carefully selects who she sees, and always uses protection, god knows what other women are doing.
I don’t know what to do. I’m probably best off just putting a bullet in my fucking head!
Drunk again, but I’m not going to email her.
Maybe I should turn up at Beth’s birthday drinks. Can’t be bothered to move off the bed though, that’s the problem.
Sunday 9th May
Managed to make it through a drunken night without emailing Sandra! It’s a small victory though – not emailing a prostitute. Is there a difference between prostitute, hooker and escort? Do prostitutes only work the streets? I’ll Google that later.
Got to go and see Mark. Luckily Liz won’t be there.
Monday 10th May
De-shelled a pint of prawns down the pub with Mark yesterday, and since then my finger has been killing me. Lots of little raised lumps, and the skin looks almost like it’s plastic. Wasn’t any better this morning, so I’ve made an appointment at the doctors. It’s spreading even further too, which is a worry. At the rate it’s going, by the time I’m forty it will be up my arm and neck and over my face.
Back from the doctors. He said it’s eczema. I’ve got a cream with steroids in it to rub on twice a day for a couple of weeks and a huge, squirty vat of dermatological hand lotion to use the rest of the time, to keep it moisturised. He also said to avoid contact with chemicals when cleaning. Luckily cleaning isn’t high up on my list of priorities.
The cream worked well today. Quite soothing and the lumps have subsided.
Tuesday 11th May
Lispy invited me out with Ed and her mates on Friday. I don’t know if Ed put her up to it, but he certainly helped sell her single friends too me. Last time I was invited out with a promise of fit, single friends, I ended cocking things up with Fi. If I meet someone nice, I mustn’t act like a douche… but I should explain how to fillet a mackerel.
Wednesday 12th May
I’m going to pull on Friday. I’ve got to stop being so down on myself and get out there. I’ve pulled in the past – I can do it again. I pulled Hannah, and she was well out of my league, so I’ve definitely got it in me, and once I’ve pulled, the lucky lady can have it in her.
Thursday 13th May
Meena’s birthday next week and she’s asked everyone if they fancy the pub after work. Might be my chance to seduce Hilary. It will also be fun to see how Beth handles being around Jack.
Friday 14th May
Decided to wear my ‘confident clothes’ tonight. They haven’t had an airing since that ill-fated night, but, like Clark Kent pulling his pants on over his tights, I will don the costume and become someone else. Hopefully I will become someone irresistible to one of Lispcuit’s mates.
Saturday 15th May
I don’t know why I bother?! I seem to have lost the ability to close the deal. Lispy’s mates were all really nice, and it was cool hanging out with Ed in a new situation – him the devoted boyfriend, me the single loser.
Lisp introduced me to a girl called Mary. If I’d had a choice, I think I would have chosen one of her other friends. Mary was very pretty, but not as much my type as a couple of the other girls were. It seemed that I’d been brought along specifically as a potential suitor for Mary, however, so I stuck with what I’d got.
She was really nice, sweet and funny, and luckily she thought I was funny too, but I just didn’t find opportunities to make any moves – such as they are. I think the problem was that she doesn’t drink. So where as normally you both get more and more sloshed and eventually leap on each other, that just didn’t feel like it was going to happen with her stone-cold sober. It also meant that I felt I couldn’t drink much, for fear of offending her with my alcohol. I also didn’t drink much because I’ve been sober around drunk people and it is one of the most boring experiences that can be inflicted upon you, so I felt I had to keep her company.
Usually, when a friend is trying to match-make, they end up drunkenly bullying you into getting it on, in that annoying way which often actually works. Ed and Lisper just left us to it, which I thought I’d prefer, but after a few hours I was pretty desperate for one of them to drunkenly tell us to go and have a snog.
I can’t believe I’m annoyed by a lack of intrusion.
The end of the evening came and by that point I’d given up hope that something would happen. I said it was really nice to meet her and she said the same of me. I did fish for one last glimmer by saying that hopefully we’d see each other again, perhaps next time they all go out. Her reply of: “Yes, maybe,” was said in an upbeat way, but the fact that I’d said “hopefully” we’d see each other again, and she said “maybe” we would doesn’t bode well for future romantic entanglements.
Sunday 16th May
Ed stayed round Lispopher Walken’s last night, so I don’t have any feedback on Mary and if she liked me or not.
Ed’s back – Mary wasn’t that into me. Thought I was nice, but not really her type.
Why can’t I find anyone? It’s not like I haven’t left the house?! I’ve been out, I’ve tried! I’m not going to try anymore, it’s too depressing. There’s always so much pressure to find someone, I’m sick of it. People are always saying you’ll find love when you least expect it, so I’m not going to look for it anymore. I’ll see if those cunts are right.
Monday 17th May
I feel strangely free having decided the hunt for a partner is over. When I go out I’m not going to work myself up into a frenzy, thinking I’ve got to find someone. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t happen I’ll kill myself and all those around me.
You don’t very often see firemen out and about in their work clothes just doing normal things. Saw two today in their dark blue trousers, T-shirts and jackets, buying magazines. Strange.
Tuesday 18th May
Beth’s eating a lot.
The doctor told me to use the special steroid cream twice a day, but I’m spreading it on at least four times. Hopefully it will just get better quicker.
Meena’s drinks on Friday. I can’t be bothered to go. Might tell her I can’t make it. Jack will be annoyed, but I just don’t have the energy to talk to these people. I’ll make up some excuse on Thursday.
Wednesday 19th May
For the third day in a row, Beth has had a large sausage roll for lunch. I’ve never seen someone devour one quite as quick as her. If she has it again tomorrow, I might time her.
Thursday 20th May
Damn, really messed up. Went up to Meena and said: “Hey Meena, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make your drinks on Friday, a family thing’s come up.” She said: “A family thing this Friday?” I said: “Yeah, sorry.” She said: “Don’t worry it’s OK. My drinks are next Friday. The 28th. Not this Friday.” “Oh, cool! I must have misheard the date. Nice one, that saves me worrying,” I replied as I went back to my desk, tail between my legs.
Jack wants to go out tomorrow night. I told him about my Meena mix up and how now I have to pretend I’m at a family do and can’t risk being spotted in town. He said we can go out under the radar… Fuck it! I might actually do it. I can’t remember a night out when I haven’t either been pining after that cow I used to date or selling my soul to try and get a bit of action. A few pints with a mate could actually be quite fun.
Beth deep-throated her pastry-wrapped pork stick at lunch again. I had my iPhone on standby and timed her from the second it entered her mouth to the moment she swallowed the last chunk of masticated-puffed-pig. The whole thing must have been about 20cm long and it only took her 1:19 to consume, and she wasn’t even trying. Bravo!
Friday 21st May
My brain keeps telling me that now I’m not looking to pull, I’m going to pull. I then have to tell it that it doesn’t matter if I do or don’t that I just want to, for once, have a nice evening where I don’t end up angry or crying.
Beth ate her sausage roll in 1:17, today. It’s a slight improvement, but she’s going to have to keep training it she wants to beat the 1:15 mark. I wonder how quickly I could do it?
Getting changed then meeting Jack down the pub. Not wearing the confident clothes. Tonight I’m me.
Saturday 22nd May
I had a nice time! I actually had a nice evening where I didn’t feel the need ogle girls from the darkened recesses of the various drinking establishments and I didn’t beat myself up as I walked home alone.
Jack tried to fill me in on more details about his time with Beth. It was when he revealed she was so wet it was like fingering your pint, and he proceeded to stick two fingers in his lager, that I told him he really had to stop it.
Apparently she’s a squirter.
Sunday 23rd May
Lovely warm day today. If our paddling pool wasn’t full of stagnant water, puke, piss, beer, chemicals, dead things, bird shit, and a whole host of other pollutants that I don’t even want to speculate about, then it would have been nice to pop our toes in.
We all decided a barbecue was the way to go. Unfortunately no one had covered it over after the last time we used it, so it had turned into a rust bucket. Also, no one cleaned the grill after last year’s cooking, so old chunks of charred meat were welded onto the metal. Of course that meant we had to have the usual, boring conversation about who was going to clean it. Panda flat out refused, which put mine and Ed’s backs up, and then we didn’t want to seem like Panda’s slaves, so we refused.
Panda suggested just cooking on top of the old, burnt-on food, reasoning that the heat would kill off any “E-coli bum-flu or shit like that.”
After about half an hour of arguing, it was decided that if Panda went to get the food, then Ed and I would clean the grill. We both then gave him our fivers with which to buy as much meat as possible. It’s ten hours later and he still hasn’t come back. The little bitch.
Monday 24th May
Panda’s asleep on the sofa with a half-naked girl. When we told him to get as much meat as possible for fifteen quid, we didn’t expect him to return with a large breasted blonde.
I’d left for work before he woke up. Should have given him a punch on the way through.
I’ve got to get out of this house. He does my head in.
I secretly followed Beth at lunch today to see if she’d get a sausage roll. She did, which meant I was able to get one too. As I took my first bite, I pressed go on the stop watch. I tried to eat fast, but comfortably. As I passed 1:17, and still had some left, I panicked and tried to go faster. It stuck in my throat, hurting the pipe as I swallowed an oversized piece down. I was done at 1:42 – I don’t know how she does it? It was a nice sausage roll to begin with, afterwards I felt sick.
Apparently Panda was in Sainsburys buying the food, but he bumped into Kyle. He doesn’t have to say any more – as soon as Panda bumps into anybody, a downward spiral of debauchery reveals itself to him, he can never resist seeing where it leads.
To be fair to him, he did get the food; he just carried it around with him all night, and then left it sitting in the bag next to the sofa where frozen burgers defrosted and the other things came up to room temperature.
Tuesday 25th May
Got a sausage roll on my way in for another race against Beth. Annoyingly she didn’t buy one, so I left it in my drawer until tomorrow.
Returned The BFG to the library. Was good to read again.
Why is the library always so full of weird people? There was a short, fat, man/woman thing in there today, riding a mobility scooter at a ridiculous speed up and down the aisles.
Wednesday 26th May
Meena’s drinks on Friday. After having a good time last week, I’m actually quite up for going out somewhere.
Beth didn’t have a sausage roll again today, so I ate the one in my drawer.
A very dry finger day today, so I slapped on a load of my cream. Keep forgetting to also use the special moisturiser – I’ve got about an oil drum’s worth of the stuff to get through.
Thursday 27th May
Bought myself a new hoodie. I’ve had my other ones for ages and it’s beginning to show.
Friday 28th May
Should I be getting Meena a card? Usually one does the rounds of the office and people half-heartedly sign it. I’ve not had a sniff of it. Maybe it will come round today.
Going out for the drinks straight after work. I guess I should leave my bag at the office instead of carrying it around all evening. I hate that dilema. You always leave something in it you need.
Fuck! Met a girl who’s actually into me! It’s true what they say – as soon as you stop looking, you find someone… although my brain has been constantly telling me that now I’ve stopped looking, I should try and find someone, so maybe the logic isn’t so solid. She’s called Kirsty – I hate the name, but she’s pretty. We’d visited a couple of pubs before I met her. Turns out Meena’s quite the raver. She was knocking them back and chatting merrily away to everyone. I had a funny conversation with her about the lyrics to the Umbongo advert. For a while I was worried that she’d think I was racist when I sang it to her rather intensely, but she brought it up, so I guess it’s OK.
Beth stuck close to Martyn and pretty much ignored Jack, which wasn’t easy to do when Martyn spent most of his time hanging out with him.
Kirsty was with some friends at the bar. I went up to get a drink and ended up standing next to her. I didn’t plan to; I hadn’t even really noticed she was there before I went up. I was fully in my ‘I’m not looking for girls’ mode.
She was laughing at something her friend said and sort of backed into me, spilling my pint as I picked it up. She turned round and was really apologetic. I told her it wasn’t a problem and she’d only spilt the top of the pint, which is notoriously the worst part. She said: “Isn’t the worst part the warm bit at the end?” And I quickly replied: “Yeah, but weirdly, on this pint, that part’s at the top,” which she really laughed at… a bit too much actually, but she’d had a few, I guess.
She’s 29 and a massage… person. Massager. Masseuse! I knew I was in when, after a bit of talking, she offered to give me a free massage sometime. I don’t really like massages, but I didn’t tell her that.
We spent about an hour talking at the bar before her mates dragged her off to meet some other friends at half ten. Before she left, we had a super-quick snog and swapped numbers. In your face, life!
I drank too much after that really. Still, I had reason to celebrate.
Thinking about it now, she’s pretty, and I was making her laugh, which was cool, but there was a weird moment when she shouted at the barman for getting her drinks order mixed up. I’ve been trying to convince myself that she did it in a jokey way, but I don’t think it was.
Kirsty. That’s such an ugly name. Her boobs are too big as well, if I’m being fussy.
Saturday 29th May
Not sure when to text her. Should I have texted her last night? This is the bit I hate – playing mind games with someone you barely know.
Sod it, I’ll text her after lunch.
Just got a text from Kirsty: ‘Hey Gareth, great to meet you last night. Hope you had a good evening and didn’t end up spilling too many tops (bottoms?) of your pints! Kirsty x.’
Is she a bit too keen texting me at half eleven the next day? Sod it, I’m glad she did, and it stops me worrying about when I should text her… although should I text her back right away?
One kiss at the end… is that too much? Is it too few?
Texted her back and we’ve had a bit of a conversation going since then. She threatened to massage me again. I’ll go along with it for now, I’ll just have to accidently break her thumbs if she comes near me with them.
We’re going to see each other again tonight! I could be banging her before the end of the day! Both Panda and Ed are out, so, in an attempt to impress her, I offered to cook here. She was up for that so I’ll do that kedgeree dish that always turns out OK.
Been thinking about her a fair bit. There was a moment last night when she sort of told me off for taking the mickey out of her friend. I can’t really remember what I said… it wasn’t anything mean – I wouldn’t meet someone I fancied and then start laying into their mate. Kirsty may have been joking, but there was definitely something in her tone that made me think: ‘OK, sorry, settle down.’
She’s coming over at six. I hope she’s as pretty as I remember.
Saw Rachel who used to work at the office last night. We said a quick hello but she was off to meet her boyfriend so couldn’t stop long. Tell someone who gives a damn, love. Jack was annoyed he missed her. He had a thing for her.
Sunday 30th May
Kirsty came over last night at about half five. I managed to hold off drinking until five, and then limited myself to one – enough for a bit of courage, but not so much that I puke all over her as soon I open the door.
She wasn’t as pretty as I remembered her. OK, but either I was very drunk last night, or she wore a lot more make up then. I was hanging onto the possibility that we might have sex, so I didn’t let it perturb me too much. Besides, it would have been rude to mention it or act visibly repulsed.
She was wearing a summery top with straps rather than sleeves, a small cardigan-thing, a short skirt, little white socks and trainers. She looked sexy, even if I felt a little let down by the face. Chances are that she remembered me to be better looking than I am, and I didn’t make a particularly special effort with my clothes, so she lost out doubly.
I opened a bottle of wine and poured us both a glass. I can’t stand wine, but sharing it seemed the thing to do. Should have bought a rosé really as it’s easier to enjoy, but that would have meant an extra six quid, and there was no way I was paying that when I had an old bottle of red sat in my room since Christmas.
She drunk her first glass quite quickly. My original thought was that she must have been quite nervous, but thinking about it now, she was probably one of those binge-drinking tramps you read about.
I started preparing the meal – chopping the onions and spring onions, rinsing the rice and so on, but every time I stood still she’d be behind me, pushing her fingers into my back and saying: “Does that feel good? Does that? How about this? You’ve got a lot of knots.” I had to dance around the kitchen from one thing to another just to keep her stabby digits off of me.
Just before I was going to put the rice on and brown the onions, she said: “Why don’t I give you a proper massage? Where’s your room?” With any other girl, I would have taken that to mean, ‘let’s go and have sex,’ but with her I knew it meant just that – ‘I’m going to push my fingers into you where there isn’t a hole, and it’s going to hurt.’ I went with her anyway, hoping I could deflect the rub away from me and onto her. When we got into my room, I said that she must get tired of always having to give the massages, and asked if she’d rather be on the other end for a change. Luckily she liked the sound of that, so she kicked her shoes off – a little too violently for my liking as they marked the paint on my skirting board. She then lay on my bed, giving me a view straight up her skirt as she did so. Her arse looked nice in the red thong, although I haven’t been a fan of the thong since Anna told me it “delivers shit to the minge.”
I knelt on the bed beside her and realised that, as a trained masseuse, whatever I did to her would probably be wrong. Hannah always enjoyed me massaging her, but this girl had some meaningless qualifications printed on a certificate. I was hoping it would soon descend into touching of a more sexual nature though, and that would be something I’d feel more confident about, even if I was a little rusty.
I rubbed her shoulders and she made appreciative noises, so I knew she wasn’t going to have a go at me to do it properly. After doing those for a few minutes, I made my way down her back. My plan was to get to the bottom of her top and then lift it up, but before I was even half way down, she sat up on her elbows and took her top off for me. That’s when I knew I was definitely going to be having sex.
I did her back for a while. It was quite moley. As I pushed her flesh around, I purposefully slid my fingers under the waistband of her skirt, just stroking the tips of them against the material of her thong to begin with, but sliding further and further in with each rotation. She then moved her hands underneath her to undo the button and pulled the skirt off her hips. I took over and pulled it the rest of the way down, over her legs and off her feet, which still had the cute white socks on. I paused for a moment to take in the vision of finally having a half naked girl on my bed. She looked sexy, even with all the moles, and she was obviously enjoying me checking her out, because she opened her legs to give me a view of her bits, albeit covered by her thong.
I then straddled her arse and undid her bra strap, planning to have a final few minutes of rubbing before I flipped her over and kissed her. She was responding really, really well to the touching, so to add to the sensation, I thought it would be good to bring some oils and stuff into the mix. The oils that Hannah had once brought over and left here had long since been consigned to the bin, so I grabbed the huge vat of dermatological hand lotion prescribed to me by the doctor and sprayed a few big long spunks into my hand, before rubbing them together and working the creamy goodness into her back. It was a shame Ed and Panda weren’t in, because the volume of the pleasure-filled oohs and ahhs coming from her would have been quite impressive.
Everything was going great until she noticed the canister on the duvet beside her. Unfortunately it doesn’t look like an innocent pot of moisturiser; it looks like a fuck-off huge vat of industrial chemicals that wouldn’t be out of place in a film about germ warfare.
She asked: “What the fuck is that?” and I knew I was in trouble. I tried to play it cool by just saying “moisturiser”, but moisturiser is usually labelled as such, and not as ‘Emollient Cream’. She grabbed it and, after studying the list of ingredients and the big prescription label that read: ‘EXTERNAL USE ONLY, KEEP OUT OF REACH AND SIGHT OF CHILDREN,’ she freaked, sitting up and throwing a load of abuse at me about how I shouldn’t come near her with that stuff, it was unhealthy and weird. I told her there was nothing bad in it, and if anything it would make her skin stronger than it was already. The evening was sunk by that point though, with water flooding in and drowning out any spark we might have had.
She hastily put her bra back on, but I did get a nice flash of her nipples before it was safely fastened around her back. Next followed her top and skirt and she was out of the front door within a few minutes. Bye!
Kirsty… ugly name, ugly face, ugly personality.
So that is it. I’ve had it with women! I’m not taking part in it anymore. It’s not even a case of not looking anymore – I’m actively going to avoid them. They are all mental. Why can’t they just react normally to things instead of flying off the handle? I’m not annoyed, well I am a bit, but mainly I’ve realised relationships are ridiculous and I can no longer be bothered trying to own one.
Monday 31st May
Went to the pub with Panda. Seems that because it was a Bank Holiday, everyone else had the same idea. Two of those people were Rachel and her boyfriend, Joe. After her going on and on about him at work all those times, I expected to be confronted with this fantastic Mr. Awesome. On the contrary, he was actually quite dull. For starters, he didn’t laugh at anything Panda and I were saying, and fair enough we might not be stand up comedians, but Rachel was laughing at most of it, so there must have been a couple of giggles for him. It wasn’t even as though he had a different sense of humour to us, because he didn’t make any jokes either. I think the problem was that he didn’t have a sense of humour at all – just a black hole in its place, sucking and destroying any fun that came near it.
Amazingly, Rachel wasn’t offended by Panda, who always manages to do/say something to put even the most chilled out person’s back up. Even with Hannah, it took a few months before she learnt to either laugh off the things he said or ignore them. Panda just can’t be trusted around people.
They want to come along the next time Panda DJs. Panda shamelessly took her number down right in front of Joe. He didn’t seem to mind though. He didn’t seem to anything. Pair of idiots – him for being him, and her for liking that. Another reason why women should be avoided – bad decision makers.
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