I left my husband on Halloween...very apt on reflection, although I didn't need a broomstick...I had been unhappy for some time, at least a year...and the initial niggling doubt over our future and the state of our destructive relationship had grown and blossomed into an overwhelming feeling that I had to extricate myself from the relationship. Cinders about to turn into pumpkin as the clock struck midnight moment.

He was never going to leave me, why would he, he did what he wanted, when he wanted and had his cake and boy did he eat it. I tried everything sitting at the kitchen table for the "talk", offers of compromise, the tears, the silent treatment, I smashed a few plates, tore up some of our photos, until there was no-where else to go. No matter what I did or didn't do there was little or no reaction from him. He was emotionally closed, cold and distant and I was becoming increasingly needy, clingy and child-like and I hated it, I felt vulnerable and unstable. He wasn't going to change. He wasn't going to stop taking cocaine and drinking alot. He had made it crystal clear that he didn't want children with me or anyone and I guess I realised I was living with a rebellious Irish teenager. A great guy to go prop up the bar with for a raucious night on the town but not marriage material. Hindsight smacking me in the face! Hindsight explains the injury that foresight would have prevented...now you tell me!!!

What's the saying? Live with wolves - learn to howl. And I was Mrs Werewolf let me tell you, full moon, half moon, honeymoon, button moon!!! I mean I didn't have a hairy chest or back (still don't for that matter, wax lyrical baby!) but I could scrap in the pack with the best of them - survival instincts kicked in. I was an inner Mrs Werewolf...the inner strength and determination was growing and growing...

The turning point came when I caught a reflection of myself in a shop mirror, I froze and paced back for a second glance, as I did not recognise the woman staring back at me. She looked attractive, sophisticated and a sorted 30-something, but it was her eyes. Those chestnut eyes were sad and empty and they'd lost their spark and shine. I felt tears well up in that shop that day. On the outside I hid it well but deep down inside me I was totally lost, lacking in confidence, self esteem, I felt trapped, lonely, oh so very hideously lonely and disappointed. My marriage did not look like other peoples. My life did not look like I wanted it to. I had moulded myself around my husband in some ways. I'd even nicknamed him Georgie, as in George Best, which we laughed about in the early years. Georgie the character though, grew larger than life and lost it's humour for me, bender after bender and I craved Captain Sensible to rock up and rescue me!

"I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered" (George Best)

There were times I felt I couldn't change him, so I joined him, acted just like him, joined his gang just to try to feel part of something, connected, wanted. But those nights that went on until the sun came up didn't make me happy. I was kidding myself, tricking myself into believing we were having a great time, and I was always on the perimeter, the understudy and after thought as Georgie was the leading man.

The frustration that built up over a year before I left was pouring out of me. I knew I had to leave but I wasn't clear how to execute the plan. Not until Halloween of all days. I love Halloween. I love the pumpkins..the candles...the costumes...and I threw a party to celebrate! And then I was gone...puff....and I never ever went back. No trick...no treat...I was serious...scared but serious.

Between friends, family and of course the infamous dates, I really enjoy my own company now and I have developed interests, creative interests that lay dormant before. Gosh I was existing, but I wasn't really living and I wasn't me. Me had disappeared....and now she's back...and she's alive and kicking!!! All singing...all dancing...all dating!

I now know what I don't want from a man - I hope that I would spot it a mile off, the addictive personality, the wild streak that can never be tamed, the charm, the manipulative tendencies, the all or nothing whirlwind that captivated me and made me feel the most important girl alive and hopelessly in love. And then just hopeless!

That is how it started, I fell hook, line, sinker and then some for my ex husband. He rocked my world and I couldn't believe he wanted me. I fancied him, I liked him, I loved him, I adored him. I remember telling him I wanted to eat his face, the desire was so strong that we almost couldn't get close enough. But what should have been a passionate wild affair...infatuation even...should not have been one year later walking down the aisle to Norah Jones Come Away With Me. And for five years we tried, well we tried and then we stopped trying and we ripped it and each other apart slowly, unravelled and destroyed it all.

I went out with my ex-husband when I was at college for a couple of months. We always remembered each other because we had sex in a Cathedral. Notorious, eh! We had sex together in the silent prayer chapel whilst a carol service was going on in 1993. He was the popular, good looking maverick at college. He bagged all the girls, he was gregarious, fun, mad and everyone wanted a piece of him. He wore a canary yellow overcoat for goodness sake. He wanted to be noticed and he was. When he asked me out for a coffee I couldn't believe he was interested in me. And he wasn't for long, a few more liaisons after our stint with the church and that was it. So when through friendsreunited he got back in touch 10 years later it was like a bolt out of the blue. I was transported back to the ditsy, insecure teenager that drooled over him on the college bus. I cried my heart out when he dumped me all those years ago. I remember playing Beverley Craven "You're playing love scenes without me and she's got my role" in my bedroom at full blast, blarting into the pillow with adolescent, hormonal and irrational thoughts of not being able to go on another day.

We arranged to meet up in Harvey Nicks for old times sake. He walked in, pin stripe suit, same blue eyes, black hair, dashing good looks, he looked like a movie star to me and within an hour we were rubbing noses, holding hands and I was giggling like a teenager. Within one month I'd called off my engagement (to a very stable, solvent, sensible man, I regrettably broke his heart and ego, blinded by love, lust, rose coloured teenage spectacles, who knows) and we had moved in together. For the next year we were totally obsessed and engrossed in one another and I really believed I had found it. True love that would last a life time. We didn't even have a television because he told me he never wanted to be one of those couples who were ruled by a box in the corner of room with nothing to say each other. We listened to music, read books to each other, drank red wine, sat by the roaring fire, played board games and we talked about everything and anything and had alot of great sex! He had an ability, at that time, to make even the simplest of events so special. I was besotted.

Experts say falling in love is like a mental illness, a sickness and it was...I felt sick to be away from him and even when I first left on Halloween the months that ensued were heart breaking, gut wrenching. I missed him...no, I missed what I wanted him to be so badly. I remember feeling so sad that we wouldn't be growing old together, we weren't going to embark on the wonderous journey of having children and in time grand children. I had failed.

You can't change people.

A leopard can't change it's spots and a tiger can't change it's stripes...one can't change one's essential nature, particularly negative characteristics.

Still searching for second time around hook, line and sinker love and laughter but not with Mr Trick...only Mr Treats may apply for this once in a lifetime job!!!

44 year old; never married; young son; 5ft 7in; bald; blue eyes; best feature butt (apparently!); creative; quirky; runs his own business. Mr Funny Photo's Email I opened my inbox, and an image of a geeky teacher from the 1970s was staring back at me....ugly, NHS glasses; basin style hair cut; bad skin and just a totally and utterly unattractive man. My initial response was to hit delete and not even read the email, as I just thought weirdo alert. However as I clicked through the other photos which were of Mr Funny Photo's torso and at work I felt intrigued and once I'd read his email I responded. Dear Madam
I wish to apply for the position advertised.

I am hard working and clean living. I have City and Guilds in usage of the washing machine, the iron and a NVQ of usage of the vacuum cleaner level 2, hence further training is not required. I have been told that I can iron creases so sharp if I fell over I could cut the grass.

My previous employers have fully trained me in opening doors; application of aftershave; showering regularly; closing the toilet seat and bed making. I feel these and other skills make me a prime candidate for the job advertised.

Don’t let the year of manufacture put you off, it runs like a machine at least 20 years younger and external input of illicit substances is not required as I run on “high” most of the time. I work out at least 3 times per week and therefore can take the riggers of all and any jobs that my new employer suggests dealing with stress easily.
I work extremely well as part of a two-person team but equally I can work as part of a group or happily can be left on my own.
My loyalty to my new employer is beyond question even if a few of my past employers have struggled with this facet.
I have acquired a sense of humour from the University of Life which is based in the Midlands at which I studied “gallows humour” and passed out with a 2;1 Master’s degree.
My alcohol consumption is quite low and infrequent, the problem being my temperament when under the influence. I tend to end up sans clothing, running up the street singing "I’m Merlin the happy pig" and can often be found clinging to the top of lamp-posts, so any potential employer is required to be aware of this factory fault.
Apart from this I own my own house, motorbike, dog and all of my teeth, I also have a part ownership in a “mini-me” he will be five in December. I am of course solvent thus requiring, no input of finances from any future employer.

Please give advice if an interview place is forth coming.

PS The geography supply teacher picture is required to be looked at with a large pinch of salt

Thanking you in advance. My Response Subject: Interview Congratulations your application has been successful and you, ***** have been selected for 1st stage interview with THE BOSS! 1st interview - full details to follow Date - ******* are you spontaneous, enough? Venue - ******** RSVP Limited places, actually only 1 place available! The Date Coming Soon!!!

What do you get if you cross a single, sassy, sexy, sensual, sophisticated...did I mention SINGLE...woman with a Chinese takeaway, a glass of Sauvignon Blanc or 2, an i-pod producing fine tunes for superb candlelit supper and a glossy laptop screen?

Answer - too much takeaway and not enough testosterone on a Tuesday eve!

You know what, it's just dawned on me, as I sit here alone in my cottage, that this internet dating lark, whilst at times tremendous fun and full of adventure, mystery, madness, mayhem, drama, occasional disappointment and more often pure pleasure and excitement - it's not for real.

Internet Dating Is Not REAL! FACT.

If I felt unwell tonight...Mr X-Y-Z is not on hand to hold my hair back as I vomit into the toilet, is he? Who will mop my brow as weep childishly (which I do whenever I am sick, because I find it totally traumatic to do an impression of a lunatic donkey and re-visit last year's steak (oh that's an enema isn't it, wrong end same feelings of abuse) not to mention yesterday's salmon en croute).

Anyhoo, Mr A-B-C is not about to rush out to get me Lemsips or make up a hot water bottle for my shivering body and put me to bed. Nor will Mr A-B or Mr C for that matter be here in the morning...making me a cuppa and telling me I look and sound so much better. (Please note, I look great in the mornings!)

Equally Mr D-E or F isn't here for me to tell him about my day in the office or otherwise...the highs..the lows...the mediocre of midweek routine life. And I am unable to listen to his, because he is either telling his wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, therapist, or no-one. Maybe I'm pissed off and need to vent..maybe I'm elated and need to express euphoria. But without a sounding board...an avid listener..what's the point?

Mr G-H-L haven't just rocked up to talk about the future...our future...from this weekend and which friends we will be sharing our time with to next year when we will strive to achieve together our hopes and dreams. Our next holiday....our next house move...our first or next child...what wallpaper we like and shall we landscape our garden, Tescos online or shall we try Sainsburys? New, mash or roast potatoes this eve?

It's not my Birthday today as it happens, so please don't feel bad that you forgot, but if it was, Mr M-N-O won't know. I am almost invisible really, a super hero...a First Date Superhero to all the men in the alphabet or cyberspace. I've been bought flowers, dinners, drinks, hotels, shoes, gifts galore, had wild and wonderful experiences and memories that have been breathtaking but on the one day of the year that I want to feel even more special than I do generally (Positive Mental Attitude people) and share with someone special - I am currently still single.

Where were we...Mr P-Q-R, right what else...well, what I'm starting to think is internet dating is really superficial, shallow, sometimes silly...it's like speed dating but lasts a little bit longer, most of the time. (You know who you are Mr Under 3 minutes!!!) So quick I didn't get chance to blog him!!!

Mr S-T-U say no more, but if you can't be good...be careful..is what my mother always told me.

So that leaves Mr V (maybe a Virgin and coming soon no doubt!!! He's a sure thang!) and Mr W (already blogged)....and that's just 26 alphabet dates...

What I will say is internet dating is addictive...and the more dating you do the more you want...the more comfortable and familiar it becomes to meet a total stranger, it's intoxicating, you get to know each other or not as the case may be in one rendezvous and then you decide hit or miss or maybe...or Snog, Marry or Avoid? Mmm..I'd term it Snog, Shag or Scarper!
Fun, Fuck or Run....it has all the attractions of an affair...it's new, exciting, you can be anyone you want to be really...you don't have to see this stranger ever again..so why worry. But the ties that bind and bond a friendship...relationship are missing if you are a serial internet dater! It's momentary...

Still searching...still with a Jo-ker smile!!! Schwing...

PS Mr Batman and Mr Robin coming soon on a blog near youhoo!

48 year old; self employed businessman; 6ft; dark short hair, few extra pounds; glasses; average looking with an intellectual edge potentially; never drinks; non smoker.

Mr CerealMan's Profile
If you know what you want contact me, if you don't, don't.
If you DO NOT have a picture on here, a sense of humour or you are here to play games hit the back button now! Remember ladies always read the entire label before discarding. Whilst the manufacturer's try to ensure this model reaches you in perfect condition, no responsibility can be taken for blemishes, faults, scratches etc once the goods have been taken home & removed from their packaging. It is therefore vital to observe the goods thoroughly prior to purchase. Only try this product if, you are single & want to be wanted. It has been known that this particular brand may cause laughter & cheerfulness in extreme cases could instigate love & affection, these are perfectly normal symptoms and should not discourage you from treatment. Storage: this product takes care of its own storage; however shared storage can be more enjoyable. What to do if you feel unwell: consider communication & trust. Dietary advice: This product reacts well to Indian, Thai, Italian, French, Chinese & English foods. Miscellaneous information: In most cases this product works well when treated with respect and is quite happy in a retail environment it is also suited to cinema, dance floors (frequently) theatres, pubs, restaurants, it may also may be taken with wine and a DVD in a domestic situation. This product enjoys motor transport with emphasis on vehicles manufactured at the factory in Crewe. If you wish for further information regarding this product then please reply to the customer service's dep't. Who will endeavor to deal with your request at their earliest convenience, recent photographic evidence would be appreciated when accompanying your request. Please note: The manufacturers must stress that this product does not play mind games. If this is your intention please go to the local park & play with other manufacturers balls! BTW - if you don't like being contacted by older guys, why not put an age limit?

Mr CerealMan email
So if I paddle upstream on my tandem, will you be my pillion? xx
My Response
Hey CerealMan Are you snap, crackle and pop or do you turn the milk brown?!!Or are you simply...gggrrreeeeaaaat! Pillion indeed...although sometimes I like to be in control of the destination and certainly the journey so I will...if you will. Next question?
Mr CerealMan
..... your phone number please? OK I'm straight to the point, if we met in a bar or at the freezer counter in Tesco's would we write notes or actually talk?? x PS & simply...gggrrreeeeaaaat!
The Telephone Conversation
...


The Date
...

51 year old; good looking; young looking; tall; Native American; Musician - session drummer; Currently Separated; No kids; Teaches at university; has own recording studio apparently!
The Email
Mr Drummer made contact with this: -
Your photos are great, and your poem outstanding!
I see you in cool, crystal clear, and fast running water. It's drinkable, but has a few sultry things floating in it...that may sting! But, I'm willing to dip my feet in..... anyway!

My name's *****, I've toured a fair bit of the world as a professional drummer, and I've ended up here. I think we'd have a great conversation, and a good laugh! If you agree, drop me a line. It would be nice to hear from you!
The Date
Coming Soon...

35 year old; good looking; City slicker; rich; confident; charismatic; cultured; intelligent; a seducer; highly sexed; highly paid; womaniser; love them and leave them; never drinks; non smoker, anti-drugs; sex is the vice!
The Date
Mr Bastard arrives in his blue convertible porsche carrera. He wheel spins into the gravel driveway of the 5 star hotel where we have dinner reservations in the Michelin star restaurant. He is tanned, dreamy blue eyes hidden behind expensive shades, designer suited and booted and looks on top of the world. He greets me with a kiss on both cheeks. A smooth operator. He heads back to the motor, as he claims he's forgotten something. A pop of the boot and a beautiful cream "Edward Goodyear" gift bag is revealed, brimming with blue delphiniums, cream roses and blue thistles. Wow...a man who knows how to buy flowers, designer flowers at that. He tells me he thought the thistles were fitting for my frosty exterior! He has no idea! What was it a guy said about me recently...oh yes, I'm a velvet fist in an iron glove. We sit in the sunshine, I have a kir royale and Mr Bastard has a pineapple juice. Mr Bastard doesn't drink. Hey he doesn't need to, he is high on life...his life! He tells me in no uncertain terms that he is a bastard through and through. All women fall in love with him and he has to shake them off and move onto the next challenge. He's been stalked and is debauched. He's had 3-somes, made his own porn movies at home and dabbled in S+M. I joke that I hope he's left his harness at home or will he be mainly dining on a satsuma for dinner! He tells me about Killing Kittens....elite sex parties for affluent and influential movers and shakers in the city looking for thrills. He tells me they are held in private houses and the rules are wearing a mask, like a masquerade ball. Is he trying to shock me, seduce me or scare me I wonder. None of which is working!!! The waitress brings the menus and asks what name the booking is under, Mr Bastard says "Jones" I pipe up and say I'm "Smith", we're Smith and Jones!!! Cliche! The waitress clocks my flowers and asks if we are celebrating....yes Mr Bastard says...it's our anniversary I excitedly exclaim and my birthday...she wishes me many happy returns and congratulations on our anniversary! Me and Mr Bastard are giggling like idiots...he's a bit of a hoot actually, for a BARSTEWARD! I like the fact that he's straight talking, no claiming to be looking for Miss Right for happy ever after....just looking for thrills and adventure. He suggests to save wasting time on reading the never ending Michelin star menus...we should go for the 10 course taster menu! Great. Decisive, authoritative and manly, and well suited to Mr Bastard for whom variety is clearly the spice of his life. He selects Pink Sancerre from the bible that is the wine list for me. We chit chat some more...he has some funny stories and is very engaging and entertaining. We head for our table, although the waitress tries to guide my enormous bouquet of designer flowers onto reception, I insist on keeping them with me. The restaurant is very formal...and old! Stuffy, stifled, white table cloths, our table resembles a a car boot sale wall paper pasting table flogging cutlery, crockery and glassware...jez and as they place taster course 1 of 10 in front on me and explain in a heavy German accent what it is I'm about to sample of which I am still clueless about, it looks like raspberry sorbet but is actually puree iced beetroot!!!...I look at Mr Bastard and say "where's the salad...but that's the fork I knew!" He laughs...he gets it the Pretty Woman reference. A couple behind us are eavesdropping...as we are loudly laughing and cavorting and having fun! Mr Bastard tells an outrageous joke...similar warped sense of humour to me. He stands up to take his jacket off and drops it on the floor! Another course comes and goes and we start to lose ourselves in our conversation...the surroundings and other dinner guests disappear. Until the couple behind us get eye contact and ask how we met...on the internet I say brazenly....last week! They think I'm joking....so for a fuller effect I follow up with he's married and so I am but not to each other!!! They don't ask any more questions and shortly after they leave! Mr Bastard has a revelation to share with me he thinks I am the female version of him. A woman with a man's mind. Has Mr Bastard met his match. I tell him that he's probably right...I do think like a man....and after all these dates and eat, sleep and breathing all types of men....I feel I'm qualified to say that. Still searching...

PS Once at home curiosity gets the better of me and I check out the The Killing Kittens website it says this "Welcome to Killing Kittens the network to the world's sexual elite!" Killing kittens is a colloquialism for female masturbation and this company is dubbed the underground orgy, sex parties for the beautiful, rich and famous...something tells me Mr Bastard is a regular guest.

Easy is an adjective used to describe a woman who has the sexual morals of a man! Mmm what adjective is used to describe a woman with a man's mind I ponder? Anyway, curiosity killed the cat, didn't it, but then kitty has 9 lives doesn't she?

70 years young! Old fashioned gent; 5ft 11; brown hair; hazel eyes; a few extra pounds; fine wine drinker; occasional cigar smoker; executive management; lived in a mansion in Mayfair for past 43 years; well connected; very cultured businessman. 2 dogs; a labrador and a greyhound!
Mr Posh Pensioner's Profile
I am looking for a lively interesting lady who likes to share a good meal and fine wine who likes culture, theatre, art galleries, opera and ballet. Someone who is good company on holidays and who likes to share all the good things in life. I also like racing and have interests in some horses, have a 6 bedroom house in Mayfair and a cottage in the country...I am fit willing and able and like the company of young ladies!
The Emails
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I certainly like your looks and style, all good except F1!
I would peddle up any stream to find you
Fondly...
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I am jetting out to Portugal tomorrow...I would like to get some perfume for you...please advise me of your favourite and I will endeavour to pick up a special gift for you. Please wait for me...don't run away!
Fondly...
From Mr Posh Pensioner
I would like to cordially invite you to accompany me to the Proms in London on the following dates....please have a look on the Royal Albert Hall website and if you feel you would enjoy any or all of the concerts I have suggested, then I would be delighted to take you...in the meantime remember what I said about not running away!!!
Fondly...
The Close but No Cigar Date
So Mr Posh Pensioner invites me to spend the weekend with him at his country cottage...there's talk of luncheon...walking his doggies and relaxing in the countryside. He has a vested interest in a race horse and offers to take me to the stables for a tour! I suggest that I would like to meet up with him first, perhaps in a public place (following the dating websites safety guidelines for a change!!!) to see if we get on. I would like to meet Mr Posh Pensioner as I am intrigued as to why he is interested in dating me...a huge age gap...dirty old pervert or lonely old "young at heart" Gent? He bypasses this idea and continues to tell me what I need to pack and the dress code for the Proms....dinner...and that he must watch the footie on Sunday, other than that he's all mine. He gently drops into the conversation that he has a lovely en suite guest room and that I will be most comfortable. Also, for me to be assured that he will not pressure me into doing anything that I don't want to do! Oh my gawd, is that reverse psychology for I'm going to try to get my leg over with a woman young enough to be my daughter...no make that my grand-daughter!!! Gross campers, I mean Michael Douglas he ain't, because last time I checked he was rocking around with Catherine Zeta Jones, damn! Mr Posh Pensioner also reminds me that he has my perfume...the carrot is being dangled and I am, it seems, the donkey, Eeyore! Reluctantly, I agree to spend the weekend with Mr Posh Pensioner and he insists on collecting me....all very gentlemanly and I guess once on board I'm at his mercy for the weekend...central locking on...make that child safety locks, Grandpa! Once Mr Posh Pensioner is in close proximity I find myself feeling incredibly uneasy about the plans. I cannot get his age out of my head and it just doesn't feel right. Mr Posh Pensioner arrives...parks private number plated Posh Pensioner car and clambers out. I am on all fours in the bathroom eyes at windowsill level, I catch a glimpse of a very old man...he is not 70, he must be nearly 80 this Geezer! Oh no...I simply cannot bring myself to even answer the door. Mr Posh Pensioner has wispy grey hair, spectacles on his nose, he is portly and looks like a dirty old man. Think Peter Stringfellow, add on 20 years, without the thong and the blonde but you're getting the picture. So I don't, I don't answer the door. i'n frozen...slightly sickened. He stands outside perplexed and bewildered and I text him to say I'm very sorry but I cannot do this, entirely my fault and my mistake I say. He texts back saying I have your perfume in my hand what shall I do with it? The carrot has lost it's crunch and appeal. And as I crouch there in my bathroom, on all fours, it dawns on me that Mr Posh Pensioner could easily be mistaken for a confused and bumbling old man clutching on to a bottle of perfume and a dream of a date with much younger woman and do you know I don't feel sorry for him because at his age he really should know better. Still searching and maybe it's time to try a toy boy to balance the dating equilibrium. Mr Right if you're out there and you're reading this come rescue me....

38 year old; married; no photo; executive management professional in the City; tall; dark hair; blue eyes; make that wandering blue eyes....
Mr Adulterer's Profile
I'll be candid: I'm married and looking for a mistress, a partner in crime, for illicit romantic and naughty liaisons. Not in my life plan to be here, but you've got to play the cards in your hand, right? I'm a senior professional guy with a big job and all the responsibilities, shortage of time and goodies that go with that, in desperate search of fun. I'm drop dead gorgeous. Oh all right, mildly drop dead gorgeous. Well be picky then, some people find me drop dead gorgeous others don't. Once upon a time, a man on the hunt for a lady would set great store by a woman who could cook. But things have changed. To be honest, I'll settle for a woman who doesn't poke her food around the plate and claim to have a thousand intolerances. That doesn't mean I like fatties. We boys hate fatties. Intriguingly, we also dislike beanpoles. No ladies, I like slim to curvy types. Also I want a woman who is prepared to admit that what she wants from a man is to be spoilt rotten followed by really good ****! Well you know what I mean. I want a secret plaything, a lover, a partner that wants to be spoiled and have multitudinous moments of pleasure.
The Emails
From Mr Adulterer
"Wow!" Love your photos and profile, have to say yours is the most brilliant profile I have read so far! I looked...I like...YUM!
My Response
Well hello, why is a 38 year old successful married Gent looking for a mistress and what's more why does my profile give you the impression I'm a suitable candidate for such a role?
From Mr Adulterer
I married a bi-sexual. It has been fun. But now she wants to be a lesbian. I am somewhat redundant.
My Response
Oh dear. Redundancy sucks, huh? Particularly in the recession. So what next? Do I get to see a photo of you please? And how often would you like to meet your sexy plaything and what are the mutual benefits?
From Mr Adulterer
I'd like to meet up with my mistress maybe once a week. She gets:
1. Supremely spoiled
2. Side splitting laughter
3. Wined
4. Dined
5. Multiple orgasms
6. Slowly shagged within an inch of her life
Mmm...how enticing...I think not! This proposition from Mr Adulterer is enough to turn any heterosexual woman to Tipping the Velvet!
My Final Response
Thanks for the photo (guy, in designer ski-wear, up a snowy mountain, complete with shades and sun tan). I am not sure that we are compatible or seeking similar situations so good luck with your search.

What was the famous Jerry Hall quote..."My mother said it was simple to keep a man, be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. I said I'd hire the other two and take care of the bedroom bit."

Cook...cleaner...whore...who knows the answer to finding the right man, let alone having to worry about keeping hold of him. Still searching.........

39 year old; single; writer; seeking long term relationship; witty emails exchanged; no telephone calls...
The Date
Mr "W" arrives in his Wange Wover! He is smartly dwessed and gweets me with a kiss on my cheek. He has a warm, fwiendly face and I instantly like him. Then he asks me if I would like a dwink? There is a moment of silence...whilst my mind computes what I am hearing. Ignore it...ignore it...my mind is scweaming at me! I am not prejudice or judgmental at all, and I am far from perfect. I guess because me and Mr "W" did not speak on the the phone ahead of our date and he failed to mention he does an expert impression of Jonny Wossy, I am slightly taken a back. My composure contained, Mr "W" walks off to the bar to order our dwinks, probably relieved that I didn't order a wed or wose wine, wodka with wed bull or wum and coke! White wine...perfect...straight forward. I must point out that I have an ability to put my foot in it, for example when I met my girlfriend's now husband for the first time, I opened the door and exclaimed "Oh my Gawd, are you alright, you look like you've been in a fight!?" He responded "No it's a birth mark" (He in fact has a small birth mark under his left eye, which could look like a black eye if you are a social cretin like me!") To claw back rapport from that opener was a task and half, that said I made it to their wedding so all must be forgiven! Anyhoo back to Mr "W"...we talk about his work and his writing (thank gawd he's not a high wanking officer in the Woyal Air Force I find my mind wondering!) His previous welationships have been successful but run their course and he is looking for the whole package. He is a lovely chap and very witty, actually he is hiwawious!!! He weally, weally makes me laugh!!! Having said that Wicky Gervais makes me laugh, as does Wussell Bwand but laughter alone is not enough for me, hey if laughter was the only answer to love and lust then Woody Allen wouldn't have had to marry his own daughter, now would he? As we say our farewells and Mr "W" clambers back into his Wange Wover and I wave him off feeling quite wivetted from his banter and tales, I sense that I am still searching eyes and ears weally wide open....

35 year old; Business consultant in the training arena; background in psychology; human resources and NLP; loves to travel; outdoors; super positive; not one for emails or telephone calls cut to the chase and wants to meet up and seize the opportunity!
The Date
Coffee. I change the location of our rendezvous a few hours prior to meeting Mr No Show-Ego, this is because I am slightly half hearted about meeting him but all in the name of blogging my bleeding little heart out I decide to see it through. He asks me to text him the postcode for his satnav which I do. I guess a side effect of all this internet dating is that a. you become sceptical...just awaiting for the clanger to drop mid conversation, the baggage, the neurosis, the catch, whatever it is, I am waiting for it, because generally so far men on the internet come to the table with issues b. the novelty of meeting new men starts to fade, 40 dates in! c. Mr Psycho is bound to rock up sooner or later and I'm not looking forward to meeting him! So as we haven't actually spoken on the phone, I decide to send a couple of banter texts to create a fun and lively atmosphere ahead of meeting. Some may call this a charismatic approach, light hearted and building some sort of rapport or anticipation. Mr No Show-Ego texts me to say he is running late according to his satnav. I text back to say "I just arrived and just as well I like my own company and shift your arse, I'm sitting outside : )!" He texts back saying it's my fault for changing the location last minute and he has to travel further than he anticipated. I text back totally joking saying "I don't do the blame game, so get your pedal to the metal and I look forward to meeting you soon" 10 minutes later I get a text saying "I'm sorry, I've turned around, I don't like your demanding attitude on the texts, I've just come from a great 1st date and you're not for me" I am, I have to say, flabbergasted! I cast a wry smile, as with all my antics on this internet dating search, it's probably about time this happened but I can't help thinking what an egotistical moron he is to miss the opportunity of meeting, having driven an hour or so, to just throw his toys out of his cot-car. Another text comes through from Mr No Show-Ego "I am a real catch...don't contact me again" I text him back to remind him that it is he who made contact with me, and if in fact he is back to back dating then it's probably for the best that we haven't met. Rich coming from me, I know!!! Glad my intuition told me to change the location and probably glad that I didn't have to endure an hour or so with Mr No Show-Ego. A new one on me and hey Mr Psycho is still at large....Still sceptically searching!