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Swipe, swipe, swipe

  • No, not this one, it's a bathroom selfie.  Swipe left
  • Aaaaagh!  She's just plain scary.  Swipe left
  • This one looks OK.  Swipe up for next picture.  Shit!  That's Bumble, this is Tinder.  I've just Super Liked her and I've only seen one picture.  FML.
  • Completely blank profile.  Not even a pic.  Swipe left
  • Not interested in ONS.  Literally every profile says this.  Took me ages to work out what ONS is.  Useless knowledge anyway; nobody's interested
  • "Marisa"  102.  Clearly not her real age.  But looks dead behind the eyes.  Swipe left
  • Blimey, this one has a bio.  Some actual words about herself.  Unfortunately, most of them are about dancing in the rain like nobody's watching.  Swipe left
  • Looks ok.  At least, I think that's her.  First photo has two girls in it (no cup, fortunately).  Second photo is a group shot.  She could be any of them.  Next 3 photos are of a cat.  Swipe left
  • Ah, another bio.  What's this?  - I'm 5'8" and I like to wear heels, so please be more than 6'2"  Sure, I'll invest in some platform heels.  Swipe left.... Next!
  • Helen - 42.  "I'm actually 51, but can't change my age on this thing".  What other lies are you already telling, Helen?  Swipe left
  • Rel:  45.  "Career for my mom"  ???  Oh  Carer.  Can't spell.  Swipe left
  • 5000 emojis and lots of LOL.  You're in your 40's, woman.  Swipe left
  • Photo of horse.  Swipe left
  • Photo of star jump on a beach, followed by photo of horse.  Swipe left
  • Photo of horse doing star jump on a beach.  Looks interesting.  Horse has no bio and age isn't specified.  Swipe left
  • Group shot of horses.  Time to stop swiping and go to work...


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Words...Don't come easy to me. But numbers do. Or do I mean number two?

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*This is not a euphemism

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The Hookup. And the neighbours.

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For liddle ol' Gen X me, that wasn't proving to be the case.  Apart from my First Ever Tinder Date, but that itself had been an anomaly that had simultaneously boosted my bruised ego and battered my busted heart.  I'd become unexpectedly but inevitably single after a decade of joy and another decade of unspoken "staying together for the sake of the kids."  The kids were all right, which would have pleased Jimmy Pursey.*  But that winter I was swiping, matching, messaging and experiencing the crushing disappointment of a series of chemistry-free first dates.
*Oblique nod to both remaining Sham 69 fans

By the time winter …

Is it too early to talk about cunnilingus?

It probably is, because look, we barely know each other.  I've only been blogging for a few days.

But, if we do somehow end up naked together, there's a chance it could happen, sooner rather than later.

Because, er, I like you.  And you like me.  That's how we got here.  And I'm turned on by you, and I want you to be turned on by me.  And the state of awkwardness peculiar only to those who have removed their undergarments in the horn-infested presence of another for the first time is mutual, so why don't I* take a lead here?

*Unless you've really got a frisk on and have already set the pace, so to speak.  I'm easy like that.  If we're already en le frottage, then let's be comfortable with each other.  I'll roll with it.  What goes around comes around, etc.

Michael Douglas probably wouldn't approve.  But then I worry if I wear a cotton v-neck, in case people think I'm copying his style.  Which of course I may be, subliminally.  Is this my …