The Worst Message Ever?

If you look like this then words aren't important...

In the past I have bitched about how much I hate messages that could have been created by a lively brick, aka the “hi” crowd. Well being the contradictory whore I am…of course I reply to some…

"But wait Little Miss Me! You are always telling us how shit and fucking lazy it is to simply send a “hi” and you basically said there is no way in hell you would ever reply to them! Did you lie?" Umm no?…not exactly…In most cases I will release my pet Gossamer to hunt the "hi" crowd down and hurt them, but I can make an exception for some men...and damn have a few fucking exceptions messaged me recently!

My profile has been up for a while now and I’ve noticed some big changes. I now receive wayyyy less messages, have I got ugly? Is my profile shitter? No. I’m just not fresh meat anymore. Men are absolute dogs for new toys. Plus dating sites list new profiles in a special glittery area…

Am I bovvered tho??? I’m not even bovvered. I now rarely get the creepy messages or the poems or the stalkers...(I'm slightly disappointed about the stalkers...) most messages that grace my inbox nowadays are from guys I’m actually interested in. Most. Not all…

I still get the occasional 'what the fuck were you thinking' message:

From: ****
Subject: Spoiling you
YOU'RE SO HOT & SEXY I"D REALLY LIKE TO TAKE YOU OUT AND SPOIL YOU :) X
I hope you don"t mind me contacting you, I"m not weird or anything but I think you"re really lovely and I"d love an opportunity to meet you which I"d never find any other way than to message you here.
We could start with a shopping trip, dinner and a club, nothing too serious just a fun time to get to know each other as friends first.
What do you think ? I"ll take care of your expenses for the meeting.

First off he’s made the common mistake of informing me on how hot I am, seriously I own a mirror you know! Then he’s asking my permission...but at least he’s not weird…because it’s important to make a point of saying you’re NOT weird…seriously? You only say you’re not weird if you're currently residing in a room with incredibly comfy walls...

He’s also going straight for the meet on the first message…what a rookie mistake; only whores and idiots would agree to meeting after one message, even if he’s using his money as bait.

I don't care that this isn't relevant it is awesome

The poor student and goldigging slut in me shouts "chance it and get some free stuff! We love free stuff!" Unfortunately the piece of me that doesn’t want to be raped says it’s a bad idea. Damn her. Doesn't she understand FREE STUFF?!

Oh and his profile picture is a mirror shot of him in what I assume is a public restroom due to the urinals in the background…doesn’t scream billionaire Prince Charming…

I'm a Blog Slut

I know there was no post yesterday but I've been busy causing drama, stealing my gay friends "future husband" and being pretty damn hungover. I'm not sorry.

But luckily you can still read a beautiful guest post from myself on Elle's blog, because I like to get around like a common blog slut...it's a genius creeper survival guide, hope you enjoy it and tomorrow I will share some online dating hilarity!

Whoreface Friday for Carrymel: a Stranger and a Sudden Loss of Dignity

Carrymel: “Oooh ooh! I want a story involving a complete stranger, you, and a sudden loss of dignity. That's pretty abstract. I think you can make it happen”.

Surprisingly nothing came to me immediately, wow I really don’t embarrass myself in front of strangers do I? Then I thought about it and oh dear god I am basically a walking disaster…most people wouldn’t leave the house if they had even half of my problems in public, it would be so much safer if I never spoke or walked anywhere…

For Carrymel...

I picked a story at random from my muddled brain. I hope you like it.

Firstly let me introduce Arthur, back in the day I would allow myself a project and Arthur was one such project. A project basically consisted of a guy that required more than me giving him “the eye” to get into bed. Arthur was a bit socially special, almost a virgin (one previous long term girlfriend) and he looked scared, I was a predator a few years ago and poor Arthur was the weak, confused almost dead Zebra to my Lioness. He didn’t stand a chance.

Now Arthur was a shy little man and very easily intimidated so it took me a few weeks to work my charms, I really did love a challenge. Finally I had him and we went back to his place where magic certainly didn’t happen but I achieved my goal, so I classed it as a success, plus he got to have sex with someone way out of his league. I was such a classy whore.

I woke up to the realisation that I had no money, Arthur clearly didn’t know how to deal with a slag in his bedroom and I felt bad for stealing the remainder of his virginity plus asking for money would be a little too hookeresque for me, so after dosing up on water and surprisingly some really awesome chatty banter with him, I think the sex gave him a new burst of confidence, I’m such a good person…I decided to brave a walk of shame home, it was only 15 minutes, I was in stupidly high heels, a sluttastic dress and it was rush hour…what could go wrong? Right?

As I walked through the hallway I glanced at myself in the mirror…I looked like a dying panda with a dead dog on my head...GREAT! I stumbled out the door into the fresh air and it hit me…bollocks I was still drunk…

An accurate representation of my face that morning, I know, I'm a sexy beast.

I was stumbling along fairly happily, a few looks of disappointment and judgement from the parents as I tottered past the school like your average prostitute back from a hard nights work but nothing unusual, then I came to “the corner” a ridiculously evil contraption of builders to catch out the slightly drunken underdressed whore on a morning stroll…the bastards!

It’s difficult to explain the situation so please refer to the map below…

Anyone spot a potential tragic problem for the partially drunk therefore sight impaired? Well it’s the corner and the stupidly low brick wall, which obviously I didn’t notice. I turned the corner and went flying ass over tits onto the floor as an old lady was walking past, my knees hurt like a bitch as I sprawled out across the pavement blocking the senior citizens way, but old people are nice right? Yeah she would make sure I was okay but no she gave me the filthiest look of horror I have ever witnessed, she then tutted something like “you should be ashamed” and chose to walk in the busy road rather than help me and my injuries up…stupid bitch! Then I looked down and the problem was pretty clear…

YES I FLASHED A GRANNY!!! Lucky slag! But no she was less than appreciative of my little strip show…I didn’t wear that dress again for safety reasons and for the protection of old ladies everywhere.

This is one of the few times I have actually been really embarrassed...it wasn’t just the boob, the granny and the idiocy of the situation, it was also the fact that I was on a busy road giving the whole world a show from my private collection, it wasn’t until I stood up that I remembered I wasn’t wearing underwear either…classy classy times…

You Must Be This Tall To Ride Me

I’ve decided not to see Tom Cruise again, the results of the poll are pretty damn clear, but mainly it’s due to the shallow ass fact that I cannot cope with his height. Yes I’m aware it is a ridiculous reason in the eyes of height deficient men everywhere but I DON'T CARE.

I AM WOMAN AND HEIGHT MATTERS!

When I last mentioned that I wanted a man who is of a certain height our dear friend Maxwell had a little tantrum, he’s such a sensitive soul, bless him, it must be because he’s so short, emotions are more concentrated or something….

Now I’ve had a little think about why height is so important to me and well I’ve come up with a list of my top three reasons (I know you like lists Maxwell)...

1. I’ve always “dated” giants (I’m using dated to cover anything more than an ONS because I think it sounds better than “fucked on multiple occasions”). I just feel weird around short guys, to me being around a short man is like being around a dog that tries to shove it’s nose in inappropriate places...it's the same kind of awkwardness that you can’t really mention but everyone knows what is actually wrong.

2. I'm a crazy insecure bitch and like to feel teeny, tall guys make this happen, it's definitely not about the penis size, believe me being 6'4 does not mean you're hung like a bear...worst moment ever :( oh is that it?

3. I LOVE HIGH HEELS!!!! I mean I love them, I’m the kind of girl that will go into shoe shops and burst into tears at the sheer beauty of  a pair of heels and the fact I can’t afford them. I need a man to be taller than me even in my hooker heels.

SHOEGASM!!!!

So yep, I need a tall guy. I’m not saying I need a giant although that would be awesome! I have a weird crush for Hagrid…damn he’s a man and a half or rather five and half Maxwells.

Ideally I want a guy to be 6 foot and over but honestly I don't have a pissing clue how to tell height, I know if someone is the same height as me, I know if they are shorter than me but other than that I wouldn't have a pissing clue so I can pretty much class 5'10 and upwards as 6' it’s just how I roll.

Now what can you do if you are a short ass? Well don’t give up! Some people have a thing for fucking midgets, look at Katie Holmes!

This dude has to be hiding something in his pants...surely?

I was trying to think if I was a short man what I would do, I thought about adding an inch or two but I can hear the hatred from women shooting through me already. One thing with lying about your height is that you should expect the woman to be disappointed when she meets you…also don’t meet up with a woman who is taller than your real height, that would just be extra fucking awkward. I expect women probably don’t carry tape measures to dates to check heights but to the non-retards (aka not me) it’s pretty damn obvious.

Sorry to disappoint the shorties wanting a piece of my pancake but don’t worry I’m going to totally contradict myself and tell you I was seeing a guy who was 5’8 last year…

DISCLAIMER: Maxwell is not actually a midget and I would very much like to have sex with him.

I Just Had Sex...

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Whoreface Friday for Maxwell: Potato, Bucket and High Heels

Maxwell: "I would like to hear a story where a potato, a bucket, and enormously high heels all play a key role. Your choice on how they are integrated."

I had a little think and well I’ve tried my best to find the most relevant story, I can’t be bothered to make shit up so just deal with what I give you.

For Maxwell…

It’s a Wednesday so of course that means it’s time to get drunk and act like an idiot. My best friend who happens to be Irish had left the day before so I was ridiculous sad, in her honour we decided to get completely fucked and play the potato game: you shout potato in your best Irish accent. It’s less of a game and more of a bunch of easily amused drunken idiots shouting stuff…I feel we really honoured the Irish, the Irish doesn’t agree.

We dressed up in our best slagtastic costumes where high heels are of course a necessity! Still communicating by few words other than potato we stormed into the club, immediately the stairs attacked us! Yes attacked! I managed to survive thanks to my ninja skills however my friend became injured, pathetic. She still has a chunk of her leg missing to this day, she calls it a war wound, I call it learn to walk in heels you fucking retard. Heels really don’t like her, one made an escape for freedom recently in a taxi and she came home like a wonky donkey with only a single shoe…I feel sorry for the lost heel, the taxi driver is probably wanking over it, poor jizz stained heel, all alone in the world...

Fast forward through the night and everything is great, I’m drunk but still have vision (a rare event), then it happens…I don't know why but DK pissed me off, I’m pretty sure he was being a douchebag and I got mad (he probably ignored my attempts to fuck him...) in anger I charged over to the bar like a wild animal and ordered a line up of vodka shots...bam bam bam bam!!! I chucked those little fuckers back my throat. Done.

Surprisingly an hour later I wasn’t feeling too wonderful. Shocking. I have a lovely memory of running to the toilets and chundering all over my boobs…great I could really have done with a BUCKET (I know grasping at straws but what?!). I managed to clean myself up…I think…and got some gum off the toilet attendant, one strip for £1! Was she actually kidding me?! Still this is the woman that made my friend pay £1 for a teeny plaster when I nearly chopped my finger off with a bottle and the bathroom looked like something out of the chainsaw massacre…maybe she can only count in pounds...I stumbled out of the toilets and there was a face I recognised waiting for me…a sort of acquaintance…oh shit did he see my vomcano? I bambi’ed over to him and uttered the sexiest sentence to ever exit my mouth… “do I smell like sick?” it was hot enough that he took me home and we played hide the penis…yeah that's how you pull people! Ask them if you smell like sick! I expect the leftover vom on my boobs probably gave the boys a lovely glistening effect...so yes another classy night.

Not the most exciting story I know but a little taster from my life, if you have any suggestions on a topic for future Whoreface Fridays that's awesome! I promise normally I'm not that disgusting, I barely ever get sick...

Age Doesn't Matter Unless You're Wine

I am 22 years old. I am technically an adult (no one has to know my mental age…I still laugh at the word willy and balloon condom animals are hilarious...if you don't agree you have no soul). My dating profile says that I’m looking for men between 22 and 45, I chose that range because I have a fuckload of younger guys here, I don’t need to look on the internet for them (no I am not running some kind of rentboy business…) and I chose 45 as I don’t want to go any older than my dad (who I think is about 46…I think…) although if George Clooney or Johnny Depp messaged me then I’m sure I could make an exception…damn I would love to get them naked, throw some chocolate sauce on them and lick it off...

Anyway I’m not an ageist, a hot guy is a hot guy in my opinion and I don’t tend to pay attention to the ages of men that message me, unless they are 72 and call themselves "ViagraMan" or some shit.

The older men who actually message me however chuck their age in my face! I have no idea why they do it? And what’s worse they normally accept defeat before they even talk to me! Do they expect me to feel sorry for them and send a pity message? Because that is not how I fucking work!

From: ****
Subject: hi
hi fancy a chat or am i to old for you x

By now we know that fancy a chat is a shit message, hi as the subject is a shit message but then this dude mentions his age…what the hell kind of reason would I have for replying to this?

From: ****
Subject: hey
you have got gorgoues eyes and a beautiful smile hope ya well i know to old lol but pay a compliment where its due lol

Subject: Hi
From: ****
hi sexy, maybe im too old for you but me good good

Both these guys are 30…ummm excuse me but when did 30 become old? Seriously kill me now if I’m considered an OAP at 30, it’s ridiculous! The first one: why even message me? You’ve already lost before you pressed send, the second one isn’t much better but at least this idiot is clawing onto a teeny tiny strand of hope…

From: ****
Subject: hi
WOW ..what can i say?? please give an older man a heart attack by writing back to me!!

This is pretty cute I have to say but I still don’t understand mentioning your age, I know the heart attack thing is a joke but I don’t want to think that if I fuck you then you might die, that’s some shit I could deal without right there.

From: ****
Subject: hello
hello pitty you are young as i really liked your profile would be nice to hear from you as you look really nice take care

Why don’t you just give me a pat on the head and be more patronising. I may still get asked for ID everytime I buy alcohol because the shop retards think I look 17 but I am a bloody grown up thank you.

From: ****
Subject: Grrrrr
Wish I was 22 again

What the actual fuck is the point of this message? Oh great well it’s your lucky day because I’m only a bloody genie that can grant some awesome fucking wishes!

Anyway men please don’t mention your age. It’s on your profile so I can see it, don’t make it an obvious reason for me to ignore you. Bloody idiots.