Shocking revelations

So, I was sat in the beautiful sunshine with CW a while back, enjoying a fine After 8 Frappiato, (I promise I am most definitely heterosexual….it was hot dagnabit) and we were talking about the fact that I hadn’t had a drink for 3 months or more.  On top of that, I hadn’t had a drink in at least a month or so before that….

I know, right…I will let you get settled back into your seat before continuing.  Make sure you have a seatbelt securely fastened as I can tell you something else…I am not even remotely missing it.

The thing is, a couple of years ago (around the same time that I started this blog..coincidence? you decide), I was out a lot.  sometimes 4 nights a week and I was, to quote the 80’s, “Partying Hearty”.

Not even Englands dire World Cup performance could reduce me to drink..let’s face it, if I was going to be driven to drink based on that, I would have been a raving alcoholic since…well…birth.

Now, let’s check the implied benefits of no alcohol.  Please bear in mind that this list is gleaned from years of research (ok ok, TV, Films…and my Nan!):

  1. Sleeping better
  2. More energy
  3. Getting up earlier and enjoying it
  4. More alert
  5. General feeling of well being
  6. Weight loss

Now, let’s review what I have noticed after the last few months and see what we have:

  1. Sleeping worse
  2. Less energy
  3. Getting up earlier and hating it
  4. Less alert
  5. General feeling of *meh*
  6. Weight gain

That’s right Ladies and Gentlemen, I am in fact “Reverso-Man(tm)” and I intend to reverse the trend (hopefully) by taking up drinking again…in moderation at least.

So beware one and all..the camera of doom will no doubt start making appearances again and my Facebook inbox will once again sing to the tune of “aaargh, you bastard…take that down” and other complimentary messages regarding my photographical prowess.

Camera Related Fun:

  • PM will undoubtedly get rather aggressive for me “always posting pictures of him looking like a dick”
  • Women will borrow my camera to wander around the bar.  It will come back to me with more bra and breast photos on it than ever happens when a guy borrows it.
  • Z will take it to do some cool arty shots…I will look through them the following day, and discover a single down the trousers, crotch shot.  I will never mention this to him in case it is him…or worse, someone else.
  • SK will grin at me when the camera is on him.  This photo will be indistinguishable from any other photo of SK that I have..and will require digital computer forensics to know when it was taken.
  • I may accost random strangers for a photo, based solely on one thing that they are wearing.  This may include groups of guys because one of them is wearing a baseball cap…perched on his spiky hair.  I will definitely play the drunk tourist card to achieve this
  • I will “photobomb” other peoples photos with a strange face (stranger than usual I mean) and probably a middle finger gesture.  I will then claim that it was done for the benefit of NBs collection.  The recipient will most likely not know who NB is.
  • Fake poses in ridiculous positions will be pulled..with the sole intention of taking a photo of some poor soul with really really bad hair/makeup/clothing (or all three)

Dave Being Drunk Fun:

  • I will get drunk enough to speak German for extended periods of time…and then swear to the deity of choice that it was an English conversation.
  • I will start on the shots at some point..these will be Baby Guinness, Sprinkboks or…if CR is around…Sambuca.
  • If GW is in the bar…the shots may include Absynth/Vodka mixers
  • If the shots include Absynth/Vodka mixers…I will be able to provide scientists with the irrefutable answer to the missing link on the following day..simply by recording myself
  • I will be surprised at how little I have spent until the bill is presented.  At which point I will feel eternally grateful for my drunken state
  • I think that it is a fair and reasonable assumption to think that I will try and head upstairs to my old apartment at some point
  • I will, at some point, be stroked by a random woman in the bar (this happens more than it should)
  • I will therefore, at some point, be required to stop CW from ripping the head off said woman
  • I will find this amusing…CW, however, will not

Hopefully, my “reverso-matic nights out diet ™” will kick in shortly after this all starts and I can get back down to 26″ waist trousers and zip them closed.**

Whatever happens, I am sure there will be some good nights coming up.

Fingers crossed I can remember them

** Paraphrased from Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine…enjoy the vid below :)

Run for your lives….

Basta de Mentiras!!!
Photo by ?N KatuM?
Bird flu?  Pah, I fire small BB gun pellets and knock it out of the sky.  Swine flu?  Don’t bother me with such trivia, I cut it into pieces and serve breaded with a nice mushroom sauce.  Your pitiful animal based illnesses wouldn’t make me breathe heavily…let alone become actually ill.

What I have is far, far worse.  As we speak they are setting up isolation tents all around Frankfurt.  Everyone coming into and out of the city have to go through a sheep dip type affair…just to be certain that they don’t allow this thing to escape.

That’s right…I have Man-Flu.  Head swimming (not in a good way), nostrils blocked, coughing up internal organs, blurred vision, headachy sort of man-flu.

This is never a good thing to happen when you just started working for a new company.  Nor is it the best idea to head back into work with all of the above symptoms slamming into you with monotonous regularity.

Still, it’s gotta be better than staying at home, in bed, with CW looking after me…right?   RIGHT?


What to do what to do….

USB Plasma Ball
Photo by L. Marie
****WARNING: The following post contains information of a geeky nature and may not be suitable for small animals adults children bits of fluff non-geeks****

When I moved into what I am now able to term my “extended holiday”, I made the decision to move my home sytems across to linux.   I have had occasional hassles and interesting challenges in getting used to things.   I started helping people out on forums in an effort to increase my own knowledge and pass on what I have learned.   6 months down the line and I am pretty much convinced with it.   I like it, when it is working it is as good as anything else….better in most cases.

Also, I appear to have been very lucky with Ubuntu.   I don’t seem to get the issues that people all over their forums get.   Things just seem to work for me.   I am still waiting for the nightmarish catastrophe to hit.   So that’s not it.   My dual monitor setup (whilst good) has never quite worked how I want it to under Ubuntu, but I have got used to it and am generally happy with it.   So that’s not it.

The problem is, I miss certain things…certain applications that, no matter how hard I try, I have not managed to suitably replace.   I suspect that I will be moving back to *Cue scary pre-shock statement music* Windows.

I know, I know, not exactly the post of Laughing Wolf normalcy, but nevertheless…

The question is, do I go Windows 7 or Windows XP?

All logic and what passes for my intelligence suggests I should go back to XP – but recent messing around shows me that Windows 7 is actually pretty good, and in fact seems to be what Vista should have been.   That said, I have never moved to an MS operating system until it has reached Service Pack 2 stage and I am not sure it is wise to start now.   Dual booting is out…I can never be arsed to setup two operating sytems into a state I am happy with, so the 2nd one is left alone and ends up just taking up hard disk space…

The other issue…can I get used to a menu system written by Fisher Price and icons that require me to strap binoculars to my head (backwards)..just to make them a reasonable size?

Hmm – CW is off out on Saturday, so I guess I will go for it….and leave the fate of my system in the hands of “which disc will I randomly pickup first”.

Oh please god don’t make it Mac OS (DS…that’s for you ;-) )

Anyhoo, onto other matters.

Do I follow the lead of “the very bad man” and refuse to give my new colleagues my Facebook details…or do I continue my normal method of Facebook whoring?     In fairness, he has some slightly dodgy pictures on his…and mine consist of mainly normal pics of me with various women and in varying states of inebriation.

I think I have the safer option here, if I am completely honest.   That said, I do have links to this blog on there….and I am not entirely sure that I want them reading it…just yet anyway ;-)

Same with Twitter…although that is as harmless as it is useless really….so I don’t see any issue there.

I already introduced them to CW at an impromptu get together last night and discovered that they really are a great bunch here…I think I can safely say that I am going to enjoy working here.   It’s not bad to be able to say that with absolute certainty, after only 3 (well, and a half) days in a place.   So different to my last place.

Good times.

The Birthday Post That Never Was

Photo by Mr Jaded
Now, I haven’t written anything in quite some time (as has been repeatedly pointed out to me) and a lot of you may be forgiven for thinking that it is sheer laziness on my part.   Under normal circumstances, you would be right…and frankly, up until quite recently, I believed this myself.

Then I discovered old age, something that I had recently been blissfully unaware of.   Now, I am not trying to say that 36 is enough to qualify for a bus pass and the right to shout at kids that aren’t yours, along with a tendency to tell stories that noone wants to hear or, even worse, have already heard before….ah shit!

You would think that I would be used to it by now, time marches steadily on and in some ways I was given advanced warning, a “preview” if you will of what it will be like for me.   I started going bald many years ago, so long ago that I forget.   Which reminds me, I have had a pretty crappy memory my whole life.   Additionally, due to repetitively eating ill advised things (such as fists), I have a number of missing teeth.

Oh, and before you ladies get all excited by my description of myself…I am already taken….sorry.

With this in mind, you would think that I would be positively welcoming old age, so I would at least have an excuse for some (if not all) of these failings.   If you do, in fact, think that…you would be wrong….very very wrong.

My 36th birthday passed with a little whimper..which was exactly how I wanted it…although it was also the leaving party for the inimitable MK and KH, and my name was put on the board at the Anglo…which was nice and got me many free drinks :D

I don’t feel 36…not that I know how 36 should feel…I still love messing around on my computer and playing the odd game…I love a few beers and a laugh and can’t resist watching Spongebob with the kids (part of me always sulks when they want to turn it over).   Is that 36?   Probably not.   I have a bad ankle, a bad back (occasionally), very little hair and too much belly…does that sound 36?   More like 50…as a certain CW keeps telling me.   Oh, and I seem to have early onset senility…now now, don’t get jealous.   If you eat all your greens and work hard at school…you can grow up just like me.

I have to say though, CW made me a fantastic birthday cake and then decided that it would be amazingly funny to actually put 36 candles on there…I genuinely thought that the bloody kitchen was on fire.   The cats thought it was bonfire night and legged it under the bed to wait out the inevitable explosion of fireworks.   Then we legged it to the bar to see in my birthday properly with SCK and a beer.   I got my flight to see Zak and Brandon paid for and a digital photo frame, which means you can actually walk around my flat without falling into photo frames now.   On top of that, the amazing friends I have chipped in with cash to allow me to spend it all on on the boys.   I even got a new router…pretty impressive birthday now that I come to think of it.

On a side note, and this could well be construed as me getting old…I feel I need to mention Facebook again.   In the past I have been guilty of using it too much and putting all sorts of asinine garbage on my status etc…but does the world really need to know that your boyfriend is amazing in bed?   I mean, are you pimping him out and want to up the possible price.   What happened to “So?   How is he?” being responded to with a knowing grin and a twinkle in your eye?   Do I need to be told that he can’t move because you tired him out?   No…I frickin’ don’t.   I am pleased for you, although you are forgetting the serious damage that you are doing to the battery industry…and now your neighbours can’t sleep because you have moved from that repetitive, sleep inducing, buzzing to screams of “Yes, yes yes”…answer the frickin’ question properly.

Oh, and stop telling unfunny jokes.

Hmm 36 and already sounding like Victor Meldrew…

I don’t belIEVE it!

Emotional Geek?

Geek!Apparently…at least according to CW.

Ok, so I have a big computer system with dual screens and over 3 TB of data, a laptop next to my bed.   I write a blog (ok so write is a big statement, but you know what I mean).   I work in IT, have all sorts of other gadgets.   I used to game (and by used to, I mean up until a few months back).   Years ago I liked Role Playing Games, later I ran LAN parties…up until the break up I had a media center PC hooked up to the TV, the kids had a PC and Gamecube to use, the Ex had her own PC, there was also a PS2 and eventually a Wii.

So I may have a collection of over 400 DVDs and various *ahem* backups on my PC, still enjoy comic books (and make the distinction of calling them graphic novels)…I could go on, but I am pretty sure that I have covered the Geek thing.

That all said, this isn’t the reason for CW referring to me as an emotional Geek.   So what could it be? I hear you cry (I love the voices in my head sometimes)

Ok ok, so I love Liverpool Football Club…always have, always will.   It’s kind of a parental relationship at know, the always love, but don’t always like kind of deal.   When I talk about the club, I talk about it with the sort of passion that suggests it is actually my team.   That is completely normal for most English football fans and I suspect for passionate football fans the world over.   I don’t recall what was said, but whilst referring to my beloved LFC I was called a Geek…

I very gently pointed out that a Football Geek would normally be a statto that keeps useless facts about every game hidden in the darkest depths of their mind…just to troll out at moments that people specifically designed to be impactive, accurate, articulate and cure insomnia.   I also pointed out that I am simply a passionate fan, and recounted the following story:-

The day after a particularly impressive victory by LFC, I was to be seen wearing my LFC shirt.   Anyone that knows me would tell you that this is not an unusual item of clothing for me to wear.   They would also tell you that I am more likely to wear the shirt following a loss.   Whilst I am in a shop, random guy x walks up to me and proceeds to tell me that I am a “Typical Liverpool Fan”, and that I am only wearing the shirt because Liverpool won.   I respond by lifting the sleeve of my top, I then point at the LFC tattoo on my shoulder and say “I am always wearing them mate…win, lose or draw”.   This gentleman of questionable team loyalty (for he did not show any tattoo) was at a loss as to how he should respond, and simply walked away.

When I finish regailing this (miraculously) short story, CW looks at me and says:

“Ok, you aren’t a typical are an emotional Geek”



Exit st. Laz.Haven’t posted for a little while as I have been somewhat….distracted by recent events, most of them good.

I have a question though, escalators are stairs that move, right?   So why, when they aren’t moving (which, by definition, just makes them…well… stairs), do people look like bambi on ice when they try and walk up them.   I am fortunate in that, with my 2 remaining braincells, I can work out to just take the normal stairs….that are right next to the escalator.   Do these people think that the escalator with the STOP sign lit up will magically start moving as soon as they set foot on it?   Are they in some sort of trance like state that forces them to perform that same little jig that they do to moving escalators…you know, the one that you hope stops you from falling over but actually makes you look like the worlds most indecisive triple jumper.

Also, in the UK, trains are not reknowned for being on time all that often…so when a train finally pulls up, the whole station seems to want to get on it.   I can understand that as, let’s face it, you seriously don’t know when the next one will actually show up.   However, here in Germany a late train is anything over 2 minutes late…and they run ALL of the time.   A quick glance at the arrivals board the other day showed that the next 3 trains were coming no more than 4 minutes apart…and that continues all day.   So with that in mind, why did I find myself faceplanted into the window opposite the open door by an influx of people so severe…I thought that someone had announced a 99% off shoe sale at an expensive ladies shoe shop.   People were so close that I would normally expect that they buy me dinner…or at least provide some lube.   On top of that, my face was pressed up against a sign that announces the seating/standing limit for the carriage, which is clearly not set with any sense of reality…who the hell enforces these things anyway…I feel violated and dirty.   Alternatively, I could have wandered into a Guinness World Record attempt…I have been distracted somewhat after all.

Anyhoo…back to my week of distraction….to say that I have had the most amazing week is something of an understatement.   I normally blog when I see something that just grabs me…or reminds me of things that have happened in the past…but what happens when someone is happy and has pretty much lost his cynicism as a result… posts for a while is what.   Sorry 3 people… ;-)

Actually, that should probably just be sorry MH…seeing as he has been putting all the pressure on me to write something.   So what could have distracted me and been so amazing?   Well, you may have read my last post about running the gauntlet of dental pain, that was fixed finally with a 3rd root canal to permanently fill the tooth.

I am no longer scared of the dentist and frankly just waltzed into the place pointing and winking at people in a Fonz’esque manner, jumped into the chair, threw my head back with my mouth open and said “Screw the anaesthetic, let’s do this shizzle”.   Ok, so maybe I wasn’t quite so relaxed about it, but for me it was pretty good.   Cue four hours slightly upside down with a dental assistant trying to help the dentist by being so close I thought she was looking for somewhere to sit in there.

I must confess to one moment of sheer bowel emptying terror though…picture the scene; I have had my mouth open for almost 2 hours, the dentists hands in there for most of that time and a dental assistant so close that I didn’t know if I should enjoy it or sue for sexual harrassment… Something is said in German, I don’t recognise these strange alien words of which they form.   I do however recognise a propane torch being fired up in front of my eyes and close enough to feel the heat…Fonz’esque Dave exits stage left, to be replaced by shaking like a shitting dog’esque Dave as panic sets in.   The dentist then starts heating up an instrument with the torch and I am desperately trying to dislocate my jaw to ensure this thing doesn’t touch anything that had not been numbed.   Relaxing eh :-)

After 2 and a half hours, the dentist tells me that they can now begin to fix my nasty front teeth…which they do…really well…to my utter amazement, and I get the hell out of there after a mere 4 hours….and I haven’t stopped smiling since, although that isn’t entirely to do with the teeth….

The day after the dentist, I get my new phone from my brother in the mail, a spangly N95, which is a frickin’ great phone with a ridiculously loud set of speakers, as MH and NB discovered to their near heart failure when my text message alert sounded, to that memorable scene from “A Few Good Men” where Cruise and Nicholson are ranting at each other about answers and truth in the court room.   Also, I couldn’t possibly confirm that, this morning, with the phone on silent and in my pocket….whilst I was in the little boys room….that I discovered that my phone was not in fact on silent, but may in fact have been on Outdoor…when the phone rang and it was probably the best location to be in…as I pretty much shi….nah, will leave it there ;-)

As you can see…quite a hectic and distracting week right?   No you say?   Fair enough, I can’t lie to you internet so I will tell you the rest…I met CW a few weeks ago in the bar and we hit it off, although, as it usually does for me, I thought I had just made another good friend.   Which was nice in itself.   Then we started chatting on Facebook for a while, which progressed to phonecalls..but still, all very friendly.   Then came IPs schoolgirl/boy themed party and, along with lots of others, CW came in costume.   We were getting on great and then it happened…the first kiss (but not in the pet food section), and thus began the nicest week of distraction I can remember.   Neither of us knows where it is/could be going and we are just enjoying spending time together..but I have to say, I already know that that I want to know more and for the first time in a year, I am happy it isn’t just a one night stand.

I will probably be writing about CW more in the near future…but I have rambled enough for one post :-D

How was your week??

The pain…the paaaain!

Smile!I think that the title is a quote attributed to the Hunchback of Notre Dame, which is quite appropriate seeing as I look like him at the moment. Either that or a hamster with loads of food in his left hand mouth pouch thing.

I haven’t slept in a while, thanks to what I believe to be an abscess.   There is nothing I have experienced that is more frustrating than toothache.   It is so focussed and there is nothing you can do to relieve it.   Cold irritates it, warm pisses it off, direct contact makes it fight back – This thing is the surly teenager of teeth and it is determined to let me know how much it hates me.   So I have to go to the dentist today, one of the few places that will make me regress to a scared child.   I already mentioned my fear of dentists before, so you can probably imagine that I am heading there with no small amount of trepidation.   That said, I have researched this guy on the internet and he is undoubtedly not Australian, so fingers crossed.   This is the guy that I used to take the kids to when they lived out here with me…so if I am a good boy, I may get to choose a cool toy to take home.

It is such a bizarre psychological response though, I am sat here typing, with just under an hour before my appointment, and I can barely type I am shaking so much.   I have smoked almost half of a pack of smokes since I made the appointment and I keep irrationally praying for the pain to stop so that I can avoid going.   I am a rational, almost intelligent man..yet I can’t stop this involuntary panic.   I know it needs to be done, I also know that he may remove the tooth…he will most certainly comment on the state of my teeth, but I will at least be able to get a quote to get whatever teeth I have left after today (you never know) fixed.   Maybe I should download a Paul McKenna self hypnosis thing to stop the fear?   Damnit, why didn’t I think of this when I was booking the appointment….I could be happy and oblivious right now….you know, my usual state of mind…

I will finish this off when I get back..providing I can type of course.

Ok, so I am back now and now I feel like Quasimodo…I can’t feel the left side of my face…or my lower lip.   Had to have a root canal done, which was about as nice as you can imagine.   2 things though, firstly fair play to the dentist who made sure it didn’t hurt too much, although he did manage to lose a piece of one of his instruments in my tooth…it’s ok, he “hopes” that it won’t cause any problems before I go back to do it all again.   Secondly, they gave me a free professional clean afterwards, which was great except it hurt more than the frickin root canal…what the fuck is that all about?!?

Still, it wasn’t an abscess although it would probably have become one.   The whole experience has confirmed my suspicions though, after having instruments in my mouth by multiple people….I could never be a prostitute.

I better look for another fallback career..I’ll start doing that as I try to smoke out of the only part of my mouth I can still feel.

Now where can I find those hypnosis downloads?…I have to go back on Friday.

Lts srt ths 1ce n 4 all!!

txt msgWhat am I talking about? Fucking text speak of course. Wait, that should be “fckn txt spk f crs”…maybe…I honestly can’t be sure.

Why is it that the need to write short messages has essentially caused us to become illiterate cretins.   Oh, and by us I mean people other than me…and probably you…but you over there, stop it..yeah you, you know who you are.

I mean seriously, it is ok when sending an SMS (barely) if…and only if, typing the thing in full would either a) make the message more than one SMS long or b) cause the person sending it to die…or something.   It, however, is never OK if you are not restricted to the length of message you send, or if the message you are going to send would (in full) not be over the limit that you have.   It should be punishable by death to use it in a forum post, blog or email.   Email….I have recieved emails made up of this shit.   It beggars belief, it really does.

It’s almost like there is an international letters crisis, and everyone has to watch out how many they use in case we run out.   The various Prime Ministers, Chancellors and Presidents will soon start finding ways to inject dictionaries and extra letters into circulation in an effort to stimulate literacy.   I am all for abbreviations when the person who is reading it isn’t required to reply to you to get a fucking idea what you meant.   I have been guilty of using FFS, BTW and LOL on many occasions, but at least people know what the hell I am talking about…generally…sorry Mum!

If you can’t spell very well, fair enough, turn on predictive text messaging…even the most basic phone has this capability and let’s face it, if you don’t know what the word begins with, you have no hope of shrinking it down to the illegible bollocks I keep seeing over and over again anyway.

Maybe it’s an age thing and I am just not home with the downies enough to get it.   I doubt it though.   I went through some of my drunk New Years Eve texts..and to be honest, bar the odd spelling mistake, I still managed to be more understandable than some of this crap.   Also, my daughter manages to text without causing me to suffer an artery popping 5 minutes trying to decipher what is being said…half the time it is like trying to crack the Enigma code all over again.   I am half expecting Websters or Collins to coin in and release a text speak dictionary in the near future…I’m not sure how it would sell though…who the hell would know what Wbstrs Dctnry means?

Ne wy am guna wch sm tv nw – l8rs

A bad day…

3/365So, let me recap a day that happened to me very recently.

Woke up at 03:50..and when I say woke up what I really mean is that I got out of bed and put the kettle on, lit a cigarette and started checking my email.

At 04:10 I realise that it is 04:10 and try to head to bed and notice that my “Furniture Finder” is working perfectly (my shin connects with almost everything on the way back to bed).

04:14, getting into bed I realise that I have left the light on.

04:15, Getting back out of bad, I catch the back of my leg on the corner of the bed and gouge a huge cut.

04:15 – 04:20, cleaning my near fatal fleshwound.

04:22, gingerly climb back into bed…screw the light, it can stay on and stop me amputating something on the way back to bed.

04:25, heading into blissful slumber

04:35, cats decide to fight each other….on my bed.

04:45, give up and get out of bed.   Finish making the coffee I started at 03:50

05:00, watch Top Gear from Sunday night

06:00, start getting ready for work, shower, shave, iron clothes..more coffee etc

07:00, head to work

07:05, get to tram stop..realise that wallet is at home, head home

07:12, get back to tram stop, just in time to watch tram leaving

07:20, get on next tram

07:30, see tube pulling away and prepare for short wait on platform for the next tube

07:32, new train arriving (I love Germany)…spot worlds most boring individual heading my way

07:37 (feels like 17:37 though), depart tube and try and get away from boring individual and head into office

07:40, pour coffee all over my tie and a little bit on my shirt…head to bathroom to try and clean before it dries

07:45, complete with wet marks all over shirt and tie….check emails.

08:00, head down for smoke and coffee…drop coffee, burn hand with cigarette

08:30, back to office – Start work

08:45, check to confirm I have no meetings…discover I am late for one and am in them all day

12:15, late for lunch, manage to grab something before heading to office for next meeting

17:15, finish meetings for the day

17:30, leave and head home.

17:45, car splashes huge mud puddle all over me

18:00, home to discover cats have ripped open the bin bag I forgot to take downstairs this morning

18:10, internet is not working, reset all boxes, router doesn’t switch back on

18:11-18:15, weep a little

18:16, router springs back to life, stop weeping

18:20, pour coffee

18:22, throw away coffee made from ice cold water…boil kettle..realise I have no cigarettes…go out to shop

Not the best day I have ever had….I must have been a complete arsehole in a previous life to deserve that one.

Karma is a bastard

Still, it could only have been worse if I couldn’t sleep that night….


The dating game…

DesireOk, so getting back in “the game” is a little more difficult than you realise.   Especially when you haven’t been in said game for quite some time and you are not quite the same person as you were when you were having moderate success.

So I have taken to trying to get inside the minds of women...not just inside them*.   How have I done this?   Easy, by making lots of female friends and quizzing them.   Also, by stealthily reading blogs..written by women who are in the dating scene.   Unfortunately, neither of them live anywhere near me, nor have they written expansively on why Uncle Fester is a much overlooked superstud…so I will continue to use their thoughts read with interest their take on the whole dating malarky….and learn some things along the way.

So far I have learned that Online dating seems to be considered as an ok option, providing you pay attention to some ground rules.   You have to make your first contact interesting, avoid using txt spk, don’t IM unless invited to, make your profile relatively interesting.   If given a phone number, call it…if they wanted to read something from you they would stick to IM or email.

See, us blokes can learn things occasionally.   Only occasionally mind…

The biggest lesson, that was delivered most recently, try and pay attention….especially if you have an unwavering desire to talk about your feelings incessantly, and the person you’re with does not.   Oh, and if ignored….TAKE THE HINT.   Do not, under any circumstances, write an email explaining how patient you were and try and lay the blame for you own failure to listen to them.

How am I doing so far?

I like it.   Admittedly, I can no longer count on stealth in my pursuit of knowledge regarding the female mind (damnable mind and it’s lack of blog imagination)…at least that part of the female mind that deals with dating.   It’s a start though right?   Plus, I get the feeling that they might find it akin to guys trying to read Vogue or Cosmo in the 80s ;-)

See though, here’s the thing.   I am perfectly comfortable talking to someone on IM.   I am even perfectly comfortable walking smack into the “Friend Zone”.   So I am waiting for the information to start flowing from these lovely ladies on the “signs”.   I am great at body language at work, in meetings and presentations etc.   I can tell you if a member of my team is paying attention to whatever I am saying.   I can even see if people need more comfort, agression, compassion…whatever.   However, put me next to women in a social situation and I see them as foreigners…making no movements I can understand…it’s a bit like being an English bloke living in, say, Germany…and not speaking the language.   You know that what they are “saying” means something, you just don’t know what that something is.

So I make a lot of friends…and the encounters I do get into are not the ones I want….either they have a weird stalker thing going on, or they are friendships that I don’t want to risk for the sake of being “in the moment”.

What is a character from an old black and white gothic TV show to do?   Other than electrocute myself for kicks or have a shower set to scalding.

Maybe this post will drag out some helpful hints in the comments….subtle eh?

So…are you fluent in body language?

EDIT:   Since posting this I have been thinking and let’s face it, it doesn’t happen often enough.   I am no longer a child… I should be mature enough to deal with things in such a way that I won’t allow a friendship to be ruined by an attempt to alter the relationship towards the romantic.   Short edit, but an important revelation nevertheless.

* Sorry…no, really