2 – 1 – 1 = A Big Fat Zero

So it had to happen really. After a jolly good natter on the phone, and the chance of a meeting later on in the week, my latest Match.com hopeful has bowed out and left me floundering around in the middle of dumpsville (yet again).

Still, I must admit that I had my suspicions that this was always going to be the case. For a start, she was pretty much out of my league in the career stakes (although I certainly wasn’t threatened by this) but after she attended a wedding over the weekend she bumped into an old friend, they hit it off and she’s going see how things go. Well, that’s certinaly the best and most original put down I’ve had in a long time.

Anyway, after she had such a wonderful time with her long lost friend, even managing a lunch date the following day, she decided that wasn’t right to ring me and arrange our little meet - although she was looking forward to it (obviously not that much then).

So my little band of merry blog fans, we're back to that big fat zero all over again. This glass is really starting to look a little under filled. Ho-hum.

Is Life So Really Mantastic ?

I’ve recently noticed that the word metrosexual has been banded around quite a lot. I originally thought that this was some sort of strange sexual attraction to underground trains, but it actually appears to be the arrival of a new brand of man – a male person who spends a lot of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle. Sounds more like a narcissist to me.

But why these sudden and dramatic lifestyle changes? Our skin can’t have suddenly changed overnight resulting in some sort of needy, and expensive, fixing. Well, I suspect that it’s all down to some clever marketing by the cosmetics companies. Just flip through any male magazine such as FHM and Maxim you’ll find pages upon pages of adverts and free samples for endless shampoos, skin conditioners and hair gel.

With the ladies maxed out with various potions and lotions containing everything from exotic fruit to rhino flem, the cosmetic companies and their massive advertising budgets have now decided that men need to be exfoliated, moisturised, pasteurised, deodorised and scrubbed with all manner of fancy soaps for our newly sensitive skin.

But please forgive me, but at what precise moment in time did men suddenly become so needy for these products? Would this be the same time that someone also noticed a gap in the bag market and decided that it would be cool for men to carry handbags too? So what’s next? A man-bra?

A Heated Debate

Unlike many fellow bloggers I’ve managed to refrain from commenting on the current hot weather. That is until now, because I’m far too hot and sticky and very fed up. I couldn’t be any hotter than if the devil had farted my face.

Having worked in South East Asia for a while I’d like to think I can cope with the extreme heat that is thrown to you – but no – this unexpected heatwave is a real energy zapper in a country where air conditioned offices are still a luxury commodity (in my office heating is a bit of a luxury too!).

You simply can’t be British and not complain about the weather. It’s either too cold, too hot or too wet – we’re simply never happy with whatever Mother Nature throws at us. I’ve even got into trouble off a fellow blogger by insinuating that she was a British person, however, the simple fact that the London based kirses complained about the weather made her an instant Brit.

In fact, I think the home office should seriously look at this matter when drawing up the immigration and nationality tests. At the moment we have a useless one that doesn’t appear to ask any questions and only explains the newly naturalised person how to claim benefits and which side of the road we drive on (with optional car insurance).

However, a revised test should include a question on the weather. A simple “Turned out nice again, hasn’t it?” question will be suffice. If the person then begins to rant and rave about how hot or cold they are (extras points for doing so in English) then there’ll be no need for a sham marriage ceremony because there’ll be a shiny new passport waiting for them at the next desk.

Parallel Lines

When I started with my dating attempts on Match.com I had also started to look for a new job. The pair went together like a railway line heading off into new and uncharted territory – and hopefully at the end of the line I would have achieved something wonderful.

And just like my dating attempts, my equally illusive job hunt is going just as well – i.e. not too well then. Still, at least to date I’ve had five interviews compared to my single date. And whilst I’ve gleamed a number of useful interview techniques, and purchased a rather dashing (and expensive) new suit, I have to say I’m pulling the big zero on the Internet dating technique front.

So in one last attempt on Match.com I did a bit of blanket message sending to a number of women with interesting profiles. Mind you, it wasn’t as if I simply sent a generic message or wink, but I literally sat down for a few hours reading hundreds of profiles and writing a number of individual messages - of which I got two replies. Both of these respondents didn’t have a profile picture but they were more than happy to send some.

It didn’t take long for one of these people to inexplicably disappear back into the ether without so much as a goodbye, but at least I’m still chatting to one (albeit still waiting on that allusive photograph – but she does have a valid reason for not having a profile picture). Never the less, we appear to be moving onto the next stage – talking on the phone. So, will we click or will those self doubts about not knowing what she looks like still bother me? Still, I do subscribe to the mantra that it is the inside that really counts - but I don't dismiss that there really does need to be that spark.

Never the less, as I continue to clickety-clack along the track, I just hope I don’t end up being shunted into a siding and left to rust.

Spade Work

Dating services, and in particular introduction agencies, have been getting a bad press recently. The papers of full of women complaining about various agencies and their inability to find them suitable dates, in fact some of them are actually suing their dating agency. Whist men are simply happy that the woman has turned up for a date (we’re simply pleased - and if you bring beer too we’ll be ready to marry) their women clients are becoming rather agitated by their raft of unsuitable dates.

Mind you, you do have to have some sympathy with them. Considering that some of these agencies charge thousands of pounds for their services you’d expect them to provide a half decent service. When a person asks for a home-owning, non-smoking, self-sufficient and rugged man you’d naturally be rather disappointed when the agency matches you with a smoker, marathon runner or a postman (no disrespect to postmen there).

But that is where my sympathy ends. What these people are doing is expecting another person to know exactly what they like. Sure, they do know some things, after all you’ve just ticked a pile of boxes and answered a questionnaire that wouldn’t be out of place on a tax return form, but where is their own leg work? Where is their effort to find out about someone, rather than them just turning up for a date and hoping for the best? After all, it’s not as if you’re ordering a pizza now is it?

At least with Match.com you have to do the searching, making contact, striking up a conversation and then deciding whether it’s worth pursuing. And yes, even that good old fashioned glance across a crowded bar at least gives you an idea of what to expect. So, litigating ladies, put your pens down, stop complaining and see if you can do any better.

They Think It’s All Over...

Congratulations to Italy on winning the World Cup!!

As an arm chair supporter I have to say that this years cup was the best I’ve ever seen – with the usual German efficiency making sure everything ran like clockwork. Heck, even the Germans looked like they were having a good time.

And with all the terrible things happening around the world it was wonderful to see fans from every country getting along so well. Even the legions of English fans appeared to make a few new friends along the way with their mad costumes and fanatical support. It’s just a pity that our politicians can’t learn something from all of this.

Highlights

1. English fans not shaming the nation
2. Joe Cole’s wonder goal
3. African nations giving a hint of just what they can do
4. BBC’s exemplary television coverage

Disappointments

1. Usual poor performance from England
2. Scotland’s lack of support (it won’t be forgotten!)
3. Cheats and those perpetual divers
4. ITV’s awful television coverage

At least normal service can now be resumed before the football season restarts and the qualifiers for the European championships start.

It’s All in the Voice

I’ve often wondered just what Match.com do with my subscription fee every month, after all they don’t actually do much to earn it. So rather than splashing out on new company BMWs all around, our friends at Match.com had spent my money wisely with a good old fashioned survey.

So in this latest survey, half of the women questioned said that they responded to a man based on his way of speaking. If there weren’t enough problems in the world already that warranted investigation, researches at Bath university found that women highlighted the importance of a man’s accent and many said that his voice revealed his personality. However, I’m not quite sure where that leaves the likes of Joe Pasquale or distinctive accents such as those from Scousers and Geordies, or the seven out of ten men who also admitted that they judged a woman on her looks.

Also, nine in ten respondents said that they decided on a partners suitability in just fifteen seconds, which kind of flies in the face of a previous survey mentioned in the Thirty Seconds to Impress blog entry. Never the less, if your voice fails to impress, there are still three other personality characteristics which stood out in helping to make that all important first impression.

Of those asked, fifty percent of respondents said that honesty, genuineness and earnestness also played a big part in their decisions. Sixty percent also said that confidence was an important factor in a prospective partner whilst forty percent highlighted how responsive and outgoing their personality was. Body language and posture was a high up on the list too.

So, not only do we need to look and smell nice and act all confident, we now need to think about how we are going to talk too. Now repeat after me. “The water in Majorca doesn’t quite taste how it ought to...”

Stubble Trouble

I really do look stupid with either a beard or moustache. Mind you, I’ve never grown a full one – only the beginnings of a moustache before deciding I looked like a right idiot. Nope, my face doesn’t suit such ticklesome facial growths.

However, one of my few bodily traits that does appear to show some form of interest from the ladies is my ability to grow good stubble. I discovered this one weekend whilst working in Australia when I couldn’t be bothered shaving. So imagine my surprise when I received the odd compliment or two, although two days growth appears to be the optimum level before that idiotic look sets in again.

And my current Match.com profile picture is living proof of this. My previous picture with the clean shaven face look was generating hardly any interest, whilst the all new stubble look has had plenty of viewers - but alas no takers so far.

So taking this level of interest into consideration I’m desperately trying to keep my stubble at a suitable length. But it’s not as easy as it first sounds as I only seem to be able to cut myself, form bald patches or end up with uneven lengths. Now I look like a right idiot. I think I sense a pattern developing.

It’s Official. Gyms Are Not Good For You

Right, that’s it. Cancel your membership as we’re taking our lives into our own hands every time we pay visit to the gym. And it’s not because that exercise is bad for us, or that we are doing too many weights, it’s because we’re all sweating too much and not cleaning up after ourselves.

Recent tests have shown that gyms have a bewildering collection of nasty bacteria which, in some instances, are capable of killing. A recent survey for a men’s fitness magazine produced some shocking results when swabs taken from various pieces of equipment and areas of a gym revealed dangerous levels of bacteria – so much so that it made eating your lunch off a public toilet seat a far less riskier exercise.

The mind boggling array of bacteria included the usual types, such as athletes foot, but also included some scary ones too – such as herpes and even a strain of MRSA. Things didn’t get any better when they moved pool side where both the spa and pool contained various forms of bacteria derived from faeces. And it doesn’t even matter that your eyes are stinging from the chlorine either – because the hotter the water, the less effective the chlorine is at killing the bacteria. It kind of makes you want to keep your mouth closed whilst swimming or relaxing in the Jacuzzi now doesn’t it?

So if you’re worried about straining or rupturing something, forget it. You should be more concerned about that sweaty bloke not wiping the equipment down after use, or that annoying person who simply dumps their wet towel on the floor of the changing room and expects someone else to pick it up for them.

But what about that shapely and tanned blonde working up a sweat on the running machine? Would you really want to risk picking up all sorts of nasty bacteria by cuddling up to her once she’s all hot and sweaty? Hmmmm. Bit of a tough call really - but I think I’d risk it!

Weather or Not

There appears to be one thing that the British are perceived to be totally obsessed with – and that’s the weather.

And when we’re not talking about it we’re having trouble dealing with it. Come the winter, and the first flake of snow, the country grinds to a halt, whilst after a couple of days of sunshine the country once again grinds to halt as the railway lines buckle and we’re suffering from a drought. So much for our weather forecasters. You would have thought we’d have all learnt by now.

We have supercomputers that are capable of processing billions of instructions per second, deciphering a DNA helix in a moment and keeping aircraft safely in the sky, and yet we still can’t get a computer to predict the weather. In fact, an abacus, a pine cone and a damp piece of seaweed would be a more accurate (and cheaper) alternative. After all, we managed well enough before the computer.

Instead, this immense computer power means that every fifteen minutes a weather update has to appear on one of the many news channels and programmes. A shapely blonde, or dully looking bloke with an awful looking tie, will then wander onto our screens and explain (just in case you’d forgotten) what all those sun and cloud symbols mean as we go on a 3D tour of the country.

And I suppose we do need an update every fifteen minutes. It gives the weather centre another chance of guessing the forecast as their supercomputers prediction of a butterfly in Staines triggering a hurricane in Cardiff was a little wide of the mark. Mind you, it did rain in Cardiff. But then again, that’s nothing new in Cardiff.

But what has the weather got to do with dating? Well, that God awful silence in a conversation with a member of the opposite sex can always be broken with the ever handy “Turned out nice again” or a “Isn’t it cold for this time of year?” It certainly makes a change to the "Do you come here often?" line*.

After all, the weather forecast is nothing to do with helping farmers know when to start the harvest or whether you need to take an umbrella, because it’s simply there to give hapless daters a hand in the conversations stakes. And put it this way. It’s got to be better than talking about the football.

* Not that I would ever dream of using it.