Ladies you’re amazing

I am 40 & Single

I am going to start this piece off with a heart-felt message from me, and every other man on the planet, to all you gorgeous, lovely ladies….

Thank you so much & we are sorry – damn sorry.

We are sorry that we are men – we make your lives difficult much of the time. We don’t do it on purpose; and that is the honest truth.

The problem lies in our emotional make up.

Women have a range of emotions so intricate that you could write a book of several volumes on each one. Men have similar emotions, but you rarely see them….

why?

In short most men just can’t be bothered to feel that deeply about general day-to-day things that make the world go round. We are lazy with our emotions and feelings – unless of course we are talking football, motorcycles, cars or something else that gets our minds racing. Then you will see the vast plethora of human emotions on display right in front of you; when we are doing or talking about the things that we love.

This emotional laziness is the cause of many problems between the two sexes. Us men wind you ladies up into a screaming rage without even trying. Most of us men day-dream a lot – we walk around in a dazed state much of the time thinking about rubbish. This means you ladies HAVE to remember absolutely everything – other wise nothing would get done in the average relationship….

AND – THAT is the problem – Men can’t be ‘arsed to remember things because we know – YOU WILL.

BOOM.

You ladies just can’t understand why, after telling us something 16 times, we still can’t remember it. You think we do it on purpose when, for example, you send us to the shops for bread, toilet roll & toothpaste – AND then we come back with just a Mars bar and toilet roll. Of course this erupts into a row as we eat the Mars bar and head back out of the door for the other items.

We are not doing on purpose and we don’t mean to cause trouble. I can assure you that your man worships the ground you walk on, dreams of you at night and would be like a lost soldier without you. That’s the truth.  Most of us just don’t show it. Why? Because we were never taught how to.

We were taught, by our fathers, that Mum remembered everything. Dad didn’t bother himself with the things that mum did – that’s how it was. So this cycle of mental and emotional laziness and man-day-dreaming moves from generation to generation. But it is changing. With more men living on their own and not having a woman around much – we are breaking that cycle.

Men are becoming more emotionally aware and simply more self-sufficient without our mum, girlfriend’s or wives being around. So worry not because in several generations time – you ladies will be able to put your feet up more often.

Until then…

We are sorry – you’re all amazing – truly.

The Dating Game

I am 40 & Single

You’d like to think that by now, after nearly two years of being single, that I would be a dab hand at dating. Well I would like to think that. Sadly I am not. I still get it wrong….

a lot.

Why? I don’t think it’s me – it’s the other side, you know, the girls – they are a funny old lot to deal with. Dating is not easy. No let me rephrase that, dating is like running across an emotional minefield, never really being sure where to tread or even what to say. One word out-of-place. BOOOOOOM. Game over….

the man fucked the date up.

Really?

Lets get one thing straight before we go on from a man’s point of view – dating is a two-way process. There are way too many girls out there that think that men have no feelings and have no idea about what they want in a partner. Grow up.

Some girls believe that dating is dead altogether; that us men are just after sex. This is simply untrue. I can tell you that casual, cheap, nasty, filthy sex is not what I go on a date for. I do enjoy that from time to time, but I have to say….

sorry girls – you’re wrong.

That is not what I and many other men think dating is about. There is casual, cheap, nasty, filthy sex on offer in many places that all of us could go to – Swinger & sex sites offer it everywhere. Dogging; go to the woods and behave like some footballers and be a dog. Nightclubs; the proverbial meat market. All of these places offer the opportunity of that type of sex if you want it. Why bother going on a date if that’s what you want? Why waste my time, on a date, passing pleasantries if all I want is to get my cock in someone?

That’s got you thinking hasn’t it?

Too many girls have the wrong idea about us men from the word go. You immediately jump to the conclusion that I have asked you out for a drink or for a coffee because I want to fuck you. He is just after sex. How best can I explain this to you so you understand?

No, no, no, no, no….

no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

NO – FOR FUCK’S SAKE – You are wrong.

It’s not me that got this wrong – IT’S YOU THAT GOT IT WRONG.

I am after finding out if you are nice, and, do I want to spend anymore time than one latte with you. You forget – you are on trial too girls. Piss me off and I won’t see you again, AND, there certainly won’t be any sex offered to you from me if I don’t like you.

Yes, that’s right, there are men that don’t sleep with everyone that they can. I have slept with enough girls thank you. I don’t need you…

But I may WANT YOU. Thats the difference between a date and fuck. You have to be special to find yourself naked in my bed with me. So, when a girl says to me…

“I don’t put out on a first date”

I think – get lost you stupid big-headed idiot. I don’t want to go on a date with someone who A) assumes she is so bloody perfect I will sleep with her on the first date anyway or B) So full of her own self-importance that she has no respect for what I think.

Many of you girls seem to forget that you set the tone for many dates. Flirty and over zealous text messages. You know the ones – containing explicit references to sex or the like which suggest you want sex quickly. Do that and us men will think – she just wants sex.

A date is a two-way process.

Romance is not dead. Dating is not dead. What’s dead is that many of us guys simply don’t get past stage one with many girls because of your preconceived ideas about men.

My perfect date would be a meeting a gorgeous girl by a river with a bottle of wine, a good picnic for two on a lovely summers day. But I am saving that for someone who is special. Someone who is going to woo me as I woo them back.

Get over yourselves girls….

Romance and dating is not dead.

 

Astro turf

I am 40 and Single

The phone rang, I looked down at the handset and saw that it was the hospital, it could only be bad news; I had left the hospice just 45 minutes before. Mum was dead, she had been dying for several months, Cancer had ravaged her body. She had given up shortly after I had whispered in her ear that I loved her. I hung up the phone. This was no problem – I could deal with this.

Six months later I was stood over another bed in a hospital, this one had my Dad in it. Dad had drunk himself into oblivion and destroyed every organ in his body. I whispered in his ear that I loved him before leaving. Yep, you guessed it, an hour later the phone rang, I looked down at the handset and it was the hospital. Dad was dead, he had been dying for several months, alcoholism had ravaged his body. This was no problem – I could deal with this.

And this is how the next two years went, disaster after disaster – marriage breakdown, problems at work, problems in my head, problems with the girl I had chosen to live with. The problems were endless – no problem for me, I could deal with them all, or so I thought.

Then one day, after another horrendous row with my then girlfriend who had thumped me in the face yet again, I suddenly found myself standing alone in the street. I watched as the fading sun set behind the London skyline. I looked over my shoulder. I was alone. No one. Just a dark space where my life had once been.  Everyone that I had held dear was either dead or alienated from me because of my erratic behaviour and the odd choices that I had made.

I needed to sort myself out – get my head straight for one. I walked out on the crazy girlfriend and somehow scraped together the money to live on my own. I gave up on women, met the odd old flame for some sex every now and again, but feelings they were taboo, banished and not allowed.

I built a mechanism for dealing with all of these emotional problems. I was like a desolate garden emotionally. I could not let others see that. Not let them realise I had not dealt with my endless problems at all. I filled my emotional garden with fake flowers and astro turf. I then put up a high wall all around it. Anyone looking in would see a well kept walled garden. There was no problem with my emotions and feelings, or so they would think. They would simply see a strong man able to take on the world.

In reality I would often look into that garden and see a scared child crying in it – that child (me) too scared to ask for help – crying amongst the fake flowers and astro turf.

Very few people were ever allowed into my garden – its a sacred place. Recently I plucked up the courage the start ripping out the fake stuff and planting some real flowers and grass. Then without warning a frost fell upon it and killed everything.

You are a cunt frost.

I am putting down the astro turf again. I fucking hate winter and all that it brings.

Heres to some sunshine if it ever returns.

My garden is out of bounds, so stay the fuck out of it.

Ghost Story

I am 40 & Single

I was chased by a ghost the other day – I ran down into the cellar, where there were no lights, and hid in the corner. Sadly the ghost must have eaten his carrots for tea and could see better in the dark than I could; he found me and carried on haunting the shit out of me.

It’s an unbelievable story I know. I confess it’s made up. Total lies, I don’t even have a cellar. If I did, would I really run down there trying to escape a ghost – of course not!

Why is it that some people believe anything that they are told or read? It’s beyond me. The Sun newspaper today, don’t shoot me I don’t read the damn thing, has 50 ways to a better sex life in it today. I am sure people will read this as the gospel according to the Sun and try everything on the list and still be asleep by 9pm.

Boredom in your sex life is the biggest killer of marriages there is.

There must be millions of people wanking at 9.30pm because they are so bored with their sex lives. I know I used to be one of them. The question is this….

I sex everything?

You have a great relationship with your partner, sex is ok (once a week), you have a comfortable life, nice holidays, two cars on the drive and the house is fine. Is it worth risking all this for an exciting shag?

It’s a big question. Think about it…..

Thoughts?

Well, for me, I jumped head first (sorry but that’s literally) into just that. It was exciting in comparison to what I had sex-wise. I think I needed it. Wanted it. Craved it. Was bored out of my tiny mind. And so that’s what happened. And, that’s led me here…..

40 & Single.

Was it worth it? I have asked myself this lots. Was that sex really worth all the pain? The ironic thing is this. The girl that I was with is long gone and I wank a lot at 9.30pm.  Sometimes I wonder if once a week sex would actually be nice now….

oh the fucking irony!

I am selling myself short I know. I need to buck my ideas up and find out what it is I really want.

I am just a lost soul in a single wilderness of the world Wank currently

Dont believe everything you read though – somethings are never going to be good and you know that before you try it.

Waterport’s for example, yes that’s where you urinate on each other. An ex went on and on about it. Wanted to try it. Wasn’t my cup of tea as they say. One day I relented after a very long day at work. In the bath she laid. I had forgotten to mention, honestly that’s the truth, that I had not had a piss all day….

fuck me was it yellow and stinking, gallons of the putrid stuff.

That put an end to her thinking it was a great idea. Actually it put an end to pretty much every thing for a while.

Anyway, back to my Ghost story.

 

I know why I’m single

I am 40 & Single

Everyone who is in a relationship thinks they can give me advice on how best to be single or how best to get into a relationship. Maybe I need the advice?

I have been in a number of long-term relationships – truth is I have lived with more girls than most people sleep with in their lives. I should be a dab hand at it. But alas it keeps going wrong in one way or another. I think it’s me….

I am the problem.

So what is it that goes wrong? I think its likely the reasons I have chosen to spend time with that girl in the initial stages of seeing them; focusing on something that they do really, really well while not seeing the things they are not so good at.

Okay, yes, I admit it – I did live with one girl solely because she was fantastic in bed but everything else about her was bad. If you needed an example of a man thinking with his dick, that was it, look no further.

I know another one ‘had a nice smile’……

What an idiot!

It’s beyond a joke. It’s plain crazy, I know. I am the eternal optimist and think that I can solve problems all the time. Brain malfunction & poor wiring problems from when I was made in Boy Factory. I must have been thrown together late on a friday afternoon when everyone was drunk in Boy Factory and keen to get down the pub. My wiring got messed up.

Things are getting better. I THINK I have learnt my lessons and the wiring problems have been sorted.

So – I know I need more of an all-rounder rather than a specialist in one area. A ‘jack’ of all trades but master of none…

whoooah, what?

Hang on a minute there.

For a start I don’t like the name Jack, I want a girl. She does need to be a master in certain key area’s. I don’t need her to know how to change the gearbox on a car but she will need to know her way round certain things….

my cock being one of them.

Sorry – It is important. They will have to pass the blow job test. Any teeth and its a no from me I am afraid.

I need someone who looks a bit like Scarlett Johansson (hair colour is not important) who is clever, witty, funny, kind, good company, laughs at my jokes (even the rubbish ones), agrees that I have a big dick, doesn’t sulk when I forget the things that all men forget (her mothers birthday), wont say “You cooked me pasta last time” too often, has a mind filled with filth, is great in bed and….

looks at me with a look in her eye that I know means that I am the greatest thing that ever happened to her.

It’s so important to feel wanted, needed & cherished. I think that’s the same for most people. As soon as that feeling of not being needed sets in every relationship is in big trouble. I know, it’s the start of the end for me when that happens. Maybe I need to work harder understanding myself rather than blaming someone else?

You have no one to blame when you are on your own, being single isolates you from other people’s emotions in many ways. If things go tit’s up (that means wrong in London speak) you have only yourself to blame. Things have gone tit’s up a lot recently. I know its me that is to blame for that.

Perfect.

So, enough about that, the testing, let’s just get on with that.

Reading this back to myself…..

I know why I am single.

 

 

 

I Dare You….

I am 40 & Single

I am a glutton for punishment goes the saying – throw a challenge at me and I am sure to take it on. It’s a damn curse having that as part of my personality I can tell you. It’s almost killed me on more than a few occasions up to now too. There I was, really pissed, in the pub, when someone said those immortal words…

“I bet you can’t……”

Red rag to a bull is the only way I can describe the feeling that that gives me.

Well of course – I bet I can.

So I climbed up the rope that was pointed out to me in my drunken state, climbed up it fifteen feet in the air. I then climbed onto the rafters which held up the roof, swung my legs over it and hung upside down by back of my legs. So far so good. Then I was handed a pint of Guinness that I proceeded to (try &) drink while pissed, hanging from the rafter, 15 feet up, upside down.

It didn’t go well. Why? I suggest you try drinking upside down when you are not pissed. Try it now. Stand on your head against a wall and try drinking a glass of water….

See – it’s not easy is it? Try doing it when you are pissed!

I had proved my agitator wrong. I had done what he said I could not. So I win? Well yes. Yes until I fell from the rafter, upside down, holding what was left of the pint of Guinness and landed on a table full of glasses underneath me. How I walked away from that I cannot tell you. I should have broken my neck and been a paralysed at the very least. I landed on my head. God must want me here for something is all I can think.

Well that’s how these things happen. So recently someone goes and says…

“I bet you can’t write something about if it’s different having sex with a woman who has had children and a woman who has not – I dare you”

For Fuck’s Sake.

Of course it was a lady who said that to me; it’s a lady worry isn’t it? You ladies worry that once you have popped a child out its loose, baggy and useless to man-kind. Honestly?

The answer is this…

Sex, really good sex, is about lots more than just the tightness of a ladies hole(s). If it were simply about that then everyman on earth would be after a virgin, who, to be honest, are always very naive in bed obviously.

Good sex is about the experience. The locking of two people together, forgetting about everything except that bond, the moment, being together, the lust, the kissing, holding tight, the sweat, the energy, the immersion into that world where just the two of you exist, the penetration, feeling of being inside, the wetness…..

I could go on

Its more than the size of the entry point for even us very basic men like me as you can see. Your holes are no different ladies; well not enough to worry about.

So I have risen again to that challenge – literally.

Glass Houses

I am 40 & Single

I am beginning to think that I have been cursed by one of those people selling ‘heather’ in the high street; you know the ones – the politically correct term is Traveller – I won’t venture into the un-pollitcally correct through fear that my luck could be even worse than it is now. Playing by the rules has got to be the way forward…..

I think.

I was always popular at school. I used to think that this was because of my fantastic personality. It never struck me as odd that I did not retain any of my school friends into adulthood; I just assumed that was the way it was. Sadly, a few years ago, I bumped into one of my old ‘school friends’ and we had a beer together. It’s here I found out the truth.

When I was a teenager gang’s were not talked about in the way they are now, not recognised as the problem that they actually are. Of course gangs have been around since man roamed the earth. My school had them. Somehow I ended up in one of these very unpleasant gangs.

At first it seemed fun. The group of us seemed popular and this blinded me to much of what it was about. Bullying was always part of the culture. I was never happy about it but initially accepted that this was the way things were.

Over just a few months I became less & less tolerant of what the rest of the gang did to others. The crunch came when one of them held a three-year old over the edge of a balcony of a seven storey block of flats upside down by his legs in order to scare his older brother – this had to stop.

I stopped it and confronted the rest of the group. It’s here I learned that people in glass houses should not throw stones. If you are part of the group, you are part of it. The gang were not people who normally took well to being told what to do – they made the rules up as they went along. The rule was violence and it was not to be messed about with. I took a very bad beating from the group of them.

My Mum had wanted to involve the Police but I pleaded with her that this would be a bad idea and she relented.  When I returned to school the following week most of the bruises had gone. The gang quickly located me and surrounded me in the playground….

ready to give me another good beating.

It was at this point I realised something, yes I was outnumbered eight-to-one, but one-on-one I knew that none of them stood a chance against me. If violence was the rule then I would play by the rules. I boldly told them that I knew where every one of them lived. They could beat me this time but next time I would be waiting around the corner when they came out of their front doors; I would get every one of them on their own and use their own rule against them.

Sounds brave I know – I didn’t think for one minute it was going to work – but I damn well-meant it. The rest of the school were watching me like a caged animal ready to be slaughtered. The gang backed off and left me alone. I was never bothered by them again.

This, according to my old friend in the pub, is where and when I became popular. There were lot’s who were bullied in that school. Lot’s of people used me for protection from the gang and nothing else; silly deluded me.

What’s this got to do with playing by the rules?

Rules are rules.

Those that know me and my background know that I am very long way from any form of anarchist. I like rules and procedures – provided they are fair and used consistently by all. But this is the problem and this is where bullying has now ebbed back into my life and has done for some years.

Rules and laws are enforced by people given the power and authority to do so. Managers and the like. There are too many people, within these legalised enforcement gangs, that see this as a licence to bully others. Enforce the rules and procedures against one person and not others. To flout the rules themselves.

I am of course talking about one particular profession which has caused me to suffer considerably over the past few months. I need not name it at this stage.

What’s the point of this blog?

I am passionate about justice and about right and wrong. I know most people feel the same as this is the way decent people are taught.

Don’t ever give up on what you know is right. Bullies live on in every part of our society and institution’s. The fight we had in the school playgrounds against these bullies is played out every day in places where these bullies now inhabit. They will use company rules, procedures and even law’s to try to tread you down.

Never, Never, Never give up.

Rules are rules you know. Confront the bully with their own rules and see what happens.

People in glass houses should not throw stones.