Cards Against Tinder

Hi team,

I recently was inspired by a game on Tik Tok and thought I’d give it a go myself.

The rules are as follows:

Step 1: Match with as many guys as possible.

Step 2: Wait for contact.

Step 3: Respond in turn by picking a random card from Cards Against Humanity.

Please enjoy!

First guy up; Randy (and the name did not disappoint).

Aleks was willing to go along with just about anything…

Lots of topical issues covered with Steve.


Finger Lickin’ Saul


Kamel wasn’t sold on my personality…


And Michael was, above all, short.







Stay tuned for more lols coming real soon!

Lots of love,


If The Shoe Stinks

Forgive me followers for I have sinned – it’s been a while since my last dating confession.  A loooong while in fact.  But after a stint of being dead inside, my cold black heart is back on the dating scene and boy do I have a story for you.  This is the story to end all dating stories.  The story to bring the blog back from the grave.  Enjoy fam!

I hadn’t been on a date in over 8 months and I was feeling like I was ready to put myself out there again.  I was missing the drama of having a man in my life and someone to get excited about.  So I downloaded Plenty of Fish (POF) off the back of a  a friend’s recommendation – she had met her partner on there and at this point, literally ANYTHING was better than Tinder.

I went in guns blazing: three dates in four days, and then another 20 mini dates via speed dating the following week.

Everyone was saying, “Wow what’s going on, you went from zero to 100 really quick?”  Yeah well, the clock is ticking okay guys?  I’m a few years away from living in a cat sanctuary,

Date number 1 went quite well (and I was seeing him for 8 weeks before he turned into a stage 8… but I digress – that is a  story for another time, another blog).

Date number 2 was probably one of the worst dates I’ve ever been on.  He was a guy from NYC who had just moved here.  I met him at a bar and realized instantly he didn’t look like he did in his pics (aka he was not attractive), he had bad breath (the ultimate deal breaker), he had lied on his profile about a number of things and to top everything off he didn’t offer to buy me a drink, he didn’t even get a drink for himself (?!) he just sat there awkwardly while I drank my margarita.

During our brief conversation I ascertained that he “didn’t really go out much” and preferred to stay home, play video games and smoke weed.


He also told me that he was “hustling” and “grinding” in order to save for a trip to Bali.  I’m sorry, but if you’re in your 30s and are struggling to just scrape together $1,000 to go to one of the most inexpensive holiday destinations then something is very wrong.  At this point I knew it wasn’t going anywhere with this loser and started to formulate an exit strategy.

After 20 minutes of strained, pointless conversation, I thought I’d go out with a bang.  I started talking about all my gay friends and how I was quite into the gay scene.  He looked at me confused, “So you like women?” to which I replied “No, I like gay men!”  He looked at me puzzled and without missing a beat I announced I was going to the bathroom.

I’m not sure if anyone here is familiar with The Bearded Tit in Redfern but there is only one entry and exit point.  The toilets are out the back and the exit is at the front.  Essentially, it’s a lare, and I was going to have to get past him to escape.

At this point though, I gave zero f*cks, so I picked up my bag and walked straight past him out the front door.  For all he knew the toilets were only accessible via the front.

Once outside, I took off my heels and physically ran, uphill, in the rain (oh the drama) as fast as I could to escape.  When I got far enough away to feel safe that he wasn’t coming after me I stopped, put my shoes back on, got out my phone and text him.

“Sorry (name), wasn’t feeling it, had to run (actually though).  Good luck with everything”

And proceeded to block him so he could never contact me again.  Bye Felipe.

So date number 3 – the motherload.

I wasn’t going to be trapped in a cabinet again so I picked a pub with multiple exit points in case I needed to pull a Houdini.

I had already gotten pre-approval from the gays on this guy’s looks, so I was feeling optimistic when it came to him physically, at least.

He arrived on time and was cute, well dressed, well-spoken and nice.

But like many that had gone before him, he was great on paper but had no edge.  He worked in income protection/risk assessment  and was just a little too straighty 180 squeaky clean for me.  He chose his words very carefully and I kinda just wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and  shake him – get him to  loosen up a bit.

All that being said, tthe date was going a hell of a lot better than the one the evening before, and I was enjoying myself ever so slightly so we kept drinking for the next four hours.  I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was 8pm so I was blind… So blind that I accidentally let it slip that I wasn’t that interested in him.  I basically said something along the lines of, “I think we may  just be too different, you wouldn’t survive in my world with the gays, and I wouldn’t survive in your squeaky clean one –  it would never work”.  He seemed more upset by this information than I would have hoped and said that he couldn’t believe that he was being friend zoned.  He looked so crestfallen, that  I said “Well maybe we should kiss, just to see, like as an experiment?”

Look, don’t judge me.  a) I was very drunk, let’s be real and b) I like to keep them guessing – like is she into me, is she not, will I see her again, what’s going to happen next??  It’s like extreme dating. c) I’m deranged.


So I pashed him across the table.  We ended up making out quite aggressively when saying our goodbyes out the front of this pub to the point that someone yelled “Get a room”.  He asked to come home with me but I flatly refused – it was a school night after all.  He then asked “Do you want to see me again?” and I replied “Look just message me tomorrow when I’m sober”.

Within 3 minutes he had text me a winky face emoji so he was definitely keen as mustard (or DTF).

As requested, he followed up the next evening asking me if I was attracted to him.  I was with my housemates James & Owen at the time and they were both witness to the entire correspondence.  Owen (aka my ghost writer) instructed me to write “Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet” to which he replied “What do you mean?” So (Owen) wrote, “You’re way too nice for me but I wouldn’t mind having a go of that body”.

What followed after this was beyond anything I could have imagined.


So he’s a shoe creep.

shoe dog

I went along with it, out of interest and for that cash money yo!



Owen literally ran out of the house screaming.  Gives whole new meaning to the words “I’m gone, I’m leaving, my wig is out the door, I’ve left the country”.

He went on – requesting the type of shoe, pics of the shoes, pics of me in the shoes, etc.  The shoes were valuable to him because they had a story behind them.  He wasn’t just buying some random’s shoes from St. Vinnies, he was attracted to the wearer and he liked to have the back story to the shoe he was about to get jiggy with.

pof3  pof3.1  justputthemon.jpg

Meanwhile I hadn’t worn these particular mules in over 8 months, they had been under my bed collecting DUST and they had no odour whatsoever.  In an attempt to get these bad boys “odorous” for my waiting client, they were back in my repertoire.  I was wearing them on the daily and I soon remembered why I stopped – the blisters were nek lev.  I was killing myself in these shoes to score the three hundred.

The shoes took over all of our lives.  Daily snap chats ensued of the shoes being worn to the park, me wearing them to dinner straight from F45, and Owen wearing them with his gym socks on.  I even put them in a plastic bag for days with stinky socks but alas, the shoes still did not smell.

It didn’t matter so much though because the exchange was getting more and more tedious by the day.  He asked if he could also lick my feet for the $300.  I said no.  Then he brought up the fact that his father was sick and asked for a discount.  I held fast with my price.  This was a high-end product he was receiving (LOL)

lick1  dad1

This correspondence went on and on and on with no end in sight.  He texted the below:


By then, I’d had enough.  We had been texting on the reg for weeks about this exchange.  Either shit or get off the pot, mate.  I don’t like you boy.  This is a business exchange now and you made it that way.

As you can see from the screenshots, I had basically ‘ruined the deal’ by calling him a tight ass.  Four days passed with no contact (which was very rare for ol’ shoey) so I thought I may as well have some fun with it and sent the following picture to pique his interest once again.


Obviously never to be heard from again.  But after getting a bit carried away with my friends on a drunk weekend to follow, this was sent:

do-these-stink5.pngdo these stink6

Even after BLATANTLY making fun of him he still wanted to buy the ballet flats… DO THESE STINK?

Was this real life????

Anyway, contact was cut, laughs were had and eventually months passed by.

THEN, my friend (who didn’t know anything about this story) sent this through…

tammy shoetammy-shoe1.jpgtammy-shoe2.jpgtammy-shoe3.jpg

Turns out it was the SAME GUY.  As we compared stories we realised it was the same dialogue WORD FOR WORD.  Asking for a cheaper pair, mentioning the dying father, getting salty when we turned down his offer to lick our feet…

As it turns out he was a  serial tyre kicker.  He must get off on talking about buying girl’s shoes but never following through.  I guess it’s kinda like shopping where you fill up your basket with items you can’t afford and then ditch it before going to the register.

She matched with him on Tinder & Bumble (yes BOTH apps) whereas I met him on POF so he’s doing the rounds alright!  Prob has a real following going by now hahaha.

The story lives on though, because believe it or not he still messages me.  The latest below.


So there you have it.  So much for straighty 180.

And even though the deal never happened, this story and the dialogue that came from it, were honestly so worth it.

Running commentary from my fabulous hilarious friends included:

  • The shoe is like his porn hub.  He’d want as many as he can get.
  • I think a foot glory hole is a great business venture – start with a sheet with a hole cut into it and see how we go.
  • Well look your first red flag was that he had green messages.
  • I wonder what he does with them?  Lick them, smell them, wear them, put his penis in them like a sock?  (Update on this: Apparently they wank whilst licking/smelling the shoe 😐).
  • I wonder if he has a collection of shoes, like an everyday shoe he wanks over then like special shoes he only uses for special occasions – you’d definitely be a special occasion shoe.
  • Me putting the shoes on to wear to work “Like honestly how did it come to this?” … “Look, think of the cash.  Pull yourself together, sweat in those mules and get that cash money!”
  • What’s this discount about?  This isn’t Payless ok?
  • How did the price get down so low?  Are you selling thongs now? #boxingdaysale
  • Would you wheel your sick Grandma into Zara and be like “Hey my Nan is sick can I have a discount?” #bereavementdiscount
  • What about a website where you pick the girl and the shoe that you want her to sweat in before purchase #sideproject
  • Who cares if he never buys the shoes, this whole thing has brought us all so much joy.
  • Plenty of fish but only one guy obsessed with old shoes

Until next time,




Stage 7 Clinger

As a fairly experienced participant of Tinder, I was getting quite tired of typing out my entire life story to everyone I matched with, so I decided to up the ante and ask them to coffee/drinks/Netflix & Chill a bit sooner.

I employ a yes-to-all tactic when swiping, and then just go from there with my matches.  Along came Rachel, she was cute, short and the banter was there.  To be perfectly honest, if a girl has nice eyes I’m sold.  We chatted for a few days and locked in a plan to meet for a coffee date that Sunday afternoon.

My attempt at getting home (

What I didn’t plan for was the paralytic state I found myself to be in on the Saturday night prior to the date which involved losing my phone on the way home, falling head first down some stairs and knocking over everything within my sloppy reach.  I was next level wasted.

I woke the next day with about half an hour before the date was meant to start, knowing Rachel would have tried to contact me on my phone which had been found on the street by a lovely gay man and had been returned to my friend.  The same friend who had been stressing about my whereabouts all night and was picturing me robbed, bashed and unconscious in hospital.

Now, not to talk myself up or anything but I can find just about anyone on Facebook.  My stalking skills are next level so, I quickly found Rachel and messaged her to let her know that I’d lost my phone and that I would meet her a bit later than originally planned.  Although she was rather surprised to hear from me over FB, she agreed to a later time and I made my way over stopping past my mate’s to get my phone along the way.

The date began like any other, the mild awkwardness made substantially worse by my hangover and growing lump on my head.  In an attempt to make out that I was far less hungover than I actually was, I ordered coffee after coffee on the date which I’m sure she thought was a bit odd.  We got on really well, so well in fact that we decided to grab pizza and drinks to continue the date.

As we talked and laughed she shared with me a few crazy dating stories – the most shocking one being that her last relationship had ended when she finally agreed after much persuasion to have a threesome with her boyfriend of 2 years and his female co-worker.  She was swiftly dumped the next day for the co-worker and now this woman is having his baby.  Nothing like a bit of Jerry Springer to relax the mood.

We eventually called it a night, and when we said our goodbyes I went in for the cheek, she went for the lips… Tad awks but such is dating.

As our schedules were quite mismatched, with me working a night shift job and her working during the day, we would only ever be able to catch up on weekends.  The following weekend I was going away for a bucks in Melbourne and we wouldn’t be able to see each other for a full 2 weeks so, going against all dating codes, we caught up the very next day.  It was only for about an hour or so in-between her day job finishing and my night shift starting but it was 34 degrees, so she came over for a dip in my pool.  We had our first pash in the the water and all was well.

We kept in contact all week and over the weekend I flew to Melbourne for the bucks which turned out to be a 3-day bender of course.  I returned on the Sunday evening feeling like absolute death but having had an awesome time.  Rachel knew I’d be back and was dropping not-so-subtle hints for an invitation to come over.  It was 9pm at night and I thought against letting her see me in the state I was in but I eventually crumbled because I was coming down and needed to be embraced.


She arrived and we begun a Netflix & Chill situation as my hangover got progressively worse.  She had already asked me over text before coming over if I had hooked up with anyone in Melbourne to which I replied,

“No, we were on a bucks and I spent 99% of my time there in a strip club”.

She brought it up again whilst we were on the couch and I started to get a bit funny about the line of questioning.  This Netflix & Chill session had no chill but I let it go.

We ended up where most Netflix & Chill sessions end up – the bedroom – but at this point I was violently hungover and struggling for dear life.  We started to bang whilst my body shook with the effort of having to hold up my corpse over her.  In my fragile state I lasted all of a minute before collapsing.  We laughed about it and she went home, you would think fairly unsatisfied.

The next day after the usual “Morning xoxo” carry on, I copped yet another question about if I’d hooked up with anyone on the bucks.  We had only been seeing each for a week it was way too early in the game to be dealing with this kind of shit.  Ask me once?  OK.  Twice?  Fine.  But three times is a bit much.  I decided not to just leave it this time and told her not to put her insecurities on me.

RACHELFrom then on she spiraled out of control and sent page upon page of writing, saying things like, “We need to start fresh” (meanwhile we’d met twice), that we could be throwing away something that could have been great, that I’d had her fooled and that I broke her heart.  Crazy level: expert.

She had left her lipstick at my place and wanted it back, and I’m not a jerk so I was happy to give that back to her.  She continued with the pages of texts, where I initially tried to let her down easy, but then quickly discovered that wasn’t making anything better so I just stopped replying.

I let her know that I’d put her lipstick in the mailbox which brought forth more messages such as:

“Do you hate me so much that you can’t bear to see me?”


Once she was at my house she called and left voice mails saying that she would wait outside in the rain until I came out, and another message saying she missed my company.  Thankfully I was nowhere NEAR my house at the time, I was at the football miles away.

A week passed by and the messages finally stopped but not before the grand finale message stating that even after all that had happened between us, she would give me another chance and at any time I could message her and she would take me back.


That one minute of sex with me must have blown her mind!


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One Man’s Beginner’s Guide to Tinder by Alexei

So, your girlfriend left you after you went on a drunken rampage at her Christian Bible Studies weekend in Mudgee?  Feeling sorry for yourself and wondering what you are missing out on in the mysterious, wonderful world of online dating?  Well wonder no more, but first be aware of the basics of Tinder to steepen your learning curve and journey towards true cynicism with the online dating world.

Tinder has a number of unwritten rules and an etiquette, all based around nonchalance and an attitude of being able to walk away from a conversation with your dignity intact.


After all, it’s always better to have a list of failed conversations than to go for broke and have a constant stream of women un-matching you.  It’s just not good for the soul.

 1.  Setting up your account

First up, you’ll need to upload photos from your Facebook.  I find it best not to do too much in your photos.  How many interests do you really need to sell yourself with?  Thus begins the creation of your mystique, which will hopefully end up with you sharing a drink with a nice girl at some stage in the near future.

Get an array of photos that show you having fun, and make sure they’re recent.  There isn’t much point portraying something that you aren’t, as all you will get is a look of disappointment if you ever do meet the woman in person.  If you don’t have enough on your Facebook page, then upload some.  Sure, your news feed will look a bit weird for a day or two and you’ll get funny comments from your aunties, but it’s short term pain and embarrassment.  And who cares?  Or set your privacy settings to be only visible to you and hope for the best!  The first upload option however, will show you have the requisite disrespect for your image and the bravery required for success in your new world.

2.  The algorithm – do not fuck with it

Once you have your photos up, and definitely use all 6, make sure that Tinder is showing the ones that you chose.  It’s a bit shit and may fail you.

Welcome, rival.  You are now part of the Tinder algorithm, an indecipherable and frustrating piece of software that you now rely on for your happiness.  Ah, the euphoria you feel when you hear the sweet chimes of the new match message while sitting in a board meeting cannot truly be described.

Message every match you get and try to spark at least the semblance of a conversation or risk punishment from the algorithm.  You need the algorithm to serve your photo up so keep it happy!  And it wants you to message, not just collect endless matches for your ego.

It’s generally a slow start, but keep the faith.  You photo probably won’t be getting much air time in the early stages, but the more you play in cafes and bars, in adjoining suburbs, on the train, and the longer you wait your photo will eventually attract some interest.  And with that interest, the joyous Tinder new match alert chime.  You will become attuned to the ebbs and flows of the days of the week, and relish in the release of your charm on this unsuspecting world.

3.  Send message or keep playing?

As needy as you are for female contact, and as much as you want some cheap satisfaction, unfortunately, now is not the time.  Start out slow, with a nice “Hello Shaniquia, bit chilly out today, hows your day going?” or a similar piece of small talk.  If you have a very amusing story from your day, go all in with it and see what happens.  But, as hot as she may look in those photos, you are at a very early place in a potential meeting and have invested very little.  So don’t stress out about it.  And if you don’t get a reply, walk away.  Just leave it.  At all stages of Tinder, a man must keep his dignity intact.


Once the chat gets going, follow some simple rules.  You aren’t on here looking for a pen pal, surely?  With that in mind, keep details sparse and wit strong.  Don’t talk about your job.  The suburb you live in.  Your family, extended or otherwise.  You really want to maintain an air of mystery and intrigue.  Because when you do ask a lady out for a drink and she says yes, you want to have a ton of topics that you can still talk about.  And if she asks too many questions, she is probably ticking items off a list and is potentially psychotic and to be avoided.  Unless you dig on crazy, in which case, proceed with caution.

Don’t stress about phone numbers or phone calls.  If you go out for a date and it goes well, maybe then you can swap details.  Tinder is fine for messaging up till then.

After you have your text mojo in full swing, you need to look for an opening to ask her out on a date.  That is, assuming you aren’t getting bored or finding that you have major compatibility issues.  A good technique if you aren’t interested any more is the “no reply”.  It doesn’t matter too much and is a good way for you both to part ways without much face lost on either side.  And it will happen to you, too.

Wait for a hint that she is bored, or has a calendar gap, grow some stones and ask the question.  Demonstrate some game.  You need to commit to ask her out for a drink, on a night, in the not too distant future.  Within a few days, ideally.  Week nights are better, as they are less of a commitment from either party.  A Friday or Saturday is a bit precious for what is essentially a blind date, so pick one of the other 5 days.

4.  Not going to plan? Never fret!

When you start to sense the waves of the conversation a bit better and can see a chat is starting to get boring, this is oddly enough also a time to ask a woman out.  What have you got to lose – its dwindling away regardless.  You never know, you might end up having a great time and a few laughs.

5.  The first date

So, you have your first Tinder date.  Nice job, but don’t get cocky, kid.  Here are some tips to keep in mind before the big day:

  • Wear whatever you want,  and just be yourself.
  • Try and start off reasonably early, giving her / you the chance to cruise if it isn’t working out.
  • Don’t commit to a dinner.
  • Be a gentleman at all times.

You are essentially strangers, and despite what you have heard about Tinder she’s most likely not planning to jump into bed with you.  With that in mind, I would suggest setting up a bar tab and buying the drinks.  It sets a more relaxed tone, letting you focus on the chat and the drinks.


The awkwardness of every first meeting can’t be described, but it is something you should look forward to.  Think of it like watching a scene from “The Office”.  Revel in it, enjoy it.  It is one of the highlights of the whole experience.  This could be your future wife you’re meeting… LOL!!  But seriously, that’s what these semi-blind date situations are all about.

As you haven’t covered off much or any of your personal history you should also have a lot of content to talk about in person.  Even if you’re a bit disappointed by her looks, be cool and have a fun night.  Everyone has some good stories to tell, and you don’t have anything better to do.  You owe it to the Tinder gods to make the most of it.  One drink will inevitably lead to at least 3, by which stage you can consider going on a pub crawl, or out to a night club or whatever.  Plenty of fun and stories for you both.

6.  Rinse & Repeat

Carry on in this fashion until you find you need a break from it all, (and trust me this will happen), and then proceed when suitably refreshed and revived.

And there you have it, my guide to Tinder!  Go forth, have fun and may the odds be ever in your favour.

If you have a story to share please contact me at

Parents Gone Wild

A friend invited to me along to a Ladies Day at her boyfriend’s Rugby club and I jumped at the chance.  HELL YAS!!  I might meet a hot footballer to call bae.


The day was awesome fun and included a photo booth, sausage sizzle, cupcakes, stalking my ex who I forgot played (awks), Pimms cocktails and checking out all the eye candy.  NB no actual football was seen at any point, bitch please, as if we had time for that!

After a day of drinking on the lawns everyone was moved inside to a function room which reminded me faintly of being at someone’s 21st.  You know the ones – they’re usually within an RSL and have carpet dating back to the 70s.

Somewhere between my ex cornering me to say “Hi” and the charity auction of half naked players, my friends decided to call it a night (amateurs).  Leaving a party prematurely just isn’t my style (someone once told me that nothing good happens after 3am but I thoroughly disagree) so I decided to stay on.

I made friends with a  young couple from the opposing team who had been dating for about 3 years and had a 5-month old daughter together.  We instantly clicked and continued our new found friendship to the pub afterward.

At one point I was out the front in the smoking area accompanying her while she had a smoke and I got chatting to a tall, massive guy who was on one of the teams.  He seemed pretty cool so when he asked for my number, I gave it to him.  Now let me just stop the story there – I can’t remember a time when a guy has asked me for my number at a bar.  I don’t know what it is about me (Do I scare guys off?  Probably) or society (I honestly thought this phenomenon had ceased to exist).  Even crazier was that this guy actually followed up with a text the next day and we ended up going on a date later that week… Asked for my number AND follow through?  Time to eat my hat!  But that’s another story.

The night eventually came to an end and the couple dropped me home, as he was driving.  The two of them were planning on pulling over somewhere and sleeping for a bit before doing the hour drive back to where they lived, but before that he asked if he could use my bathroom.  Of course!  So they both came in and we hung out a little bit longer while they met my dogs.  Shortly after that they left and I got ready for bed.

Half an hour later she rang me and when I answered it sounded like she was crying.  I asked her what was wrong and when she responded I realised she was actually laughing.

Her:  “We’re still outside, we can’t sleep.”

And so I, the hostess with the mostess said,  “Oh, well, do you want to come in for a bit and chill?  Have a nap or something?”

Her:  “That would be amazing.”

So they both came inside and I’m not sure how, but we all ended up in my room.  The vibe was getting a bit weird, and then he made a move to kiss me!


WHAT WAS HAPPENING!?  I was suddenly stone-cold sober as I realised the two of them were propositioning me to have a threesome.  They must have discussed this in the car before ringing me to come back inside!  I know you’re probably thinking, “A hot footballer and his girlfriend want to bang you and you turn them down?  Really??”  But no, he wasn’t hot, he wasn’t my type AT ALL, and I definitely wasn’t interested in vagina being on the menu.  So, I not-so-politely declined and showed them the door.

AntoineDodsonAlthough I was flattered, it was definitely not how I saw my night panning out.  These two weren’t going to let a night without their offspring go to waste!  It was a strange experience but at least it’s a good story.  Anything for the blog.

Still got it

Signing off,


Baggage for days

After returning home from a romantic weekend wedding, my friend felt compelled to re-download Tinder and challenge the love gods once again.  

This was the result…

TINDER… Where shall I begin?  The tedious app that is forever being installed and deleted.  One minute I’m telling myself, “Don’t do it!”  And the next I find myself on a date thinking… “Is this shit for real??”

I hadn’t been on a Tinder date in MONTHS but I’d just returned home from my best friend’s wedding and was feeling lonely so I thought, “Fuck it, I’ll give it a bash!”  I started chatting with the oh-so-charming Ben who was 29, worked in real estate, and was keen to meet for a drink.  I agreed, and a few evenings later we met at a local bar.

He walked in and straight away his first mistake was being dressed so casually that he looked out of place, and his second mistake was making a phone call whilst the barmaid was totalling the round!  Of course I waited for him to pay, this was supposed to be a date!  He even jokingly said, “Now that’s $14 you owe me!”  Was this guy serious?

As we smashed a bottle of wine, the conversation wasn’t flowing that smoothly but jeez – I can talk the leg off a donkey – so I gladly chattered away.  All was going well until he made an offhand comment regarding his former drug addiction (there I was thinking for a second that he might actually be OK), and then he received a text message which he promptly read, and buried his face in his hands.

I asked him what was wrong and he said, “This is why I don’t go on Tinder dates.”   I was there thinking WTF and nagged him to show me the message.  He eventually cracked and it was a doozy – he got his last Tinder date pregnant and now she was harassing him for money!  To make matters worse, she was due in 3 fucking months!!  You can imagine the shock on my face…. But that’s not all folks!  He then informed me he had two other kids!

I was pretty drunk by that stage and this new information was the final bullet, the date had to be over.

As I tried (unsuccessfully) to get out of the date from hell, he went in for the kill and kissed me!  VOM!  I’m not sure what signals this guy was reading but there was absolutely no reason in hell for him to be attempting intimacy at this point.  Eventually I had to just come right out and say, “This is over, GOODBYE!”  And he finally left… You’d think the night would’ve ended there but NOPE!

I turned around and got involved in a conversation between an older man and an Irish bloke who seemed to know me.  I was slightly alarmed for a second (who is this guy?), but then I realised it was my housemate’s friend who lived upstairs from me.  We continued drinking for several hours and then they decided to move on to another pub.  This should’ve been my cue to leave as I was quite drunk, but knowing no limits like I do aka Miss Never-Wants-To-Go-Home, I decided to follow suit.

By the time I’d left pub #2 I was easily, hands-down the drunkest person alive.  Everything from this point is pretty hazy… Up until waking up.  Topless.  In the neighbour’s place!  Omg the fear, the panic!  Luckily there was no sexual contact (Mother Nature made sure of that thankfully).  My virginity was intact! 😉

I left in a rush freaking out because a) he was my neighbour and b) he was my housemate’s friend!  I certainly wasn’t looking forward to that awkward run-in on the stairs.  The only positive in the whole experience was that the walk of shame was short – one floor.

The next day I’m hungover and hating Tinder.  So much for my wistful hope at romance!  Ben, my Tinder date from hell calls to ask if I want to hook up again later that evening (?!), and reassures me that he isn’t looking for another mummy for his kids.


WTAF!  Was this guy even mentally present during the date?  I can safely say I won’t be seeing this guy ever again.  My finger is poised ready to delete Tinder but I know I’ll be swiping again real soon.  Until next time…

waste of time

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Urban dating legend

This post is not one of my stories, but please enjoy it regardless 😉

It was my first stint at online dating and I was pretty skeptical.  It took me a long time to warm up to the idea of meeting someone online, but it did seem like an effective tool to meet people you wouldn’t regularly meet in day-to-day life.

So I thought, “Screw it”, and downloaded Tinder.  Probably the wrong app, I know.  No easing into things there!  But EVERYONE is on Tinder, so I thought the odds of meeting someone on that would be better than the wasteland of nothingness I was currently experiencing.  #nodates


I think it was the third date I had secured through Tinder, so I was becoming a “pro” first-dater.  I arranged to meet Seth after a Sunday ladies luncheon where the theme happened to be ‘dress in white’.  I messaged him around midday letting him know I would be finishing up at the lunch at 4pm, asking where we were going, what time etc.  It wasn’t until quarter to 4 that I heard back from him, as I was leaving, suggesting a bar in the city by 5pm.  He was already cutting it a bit fine as my friend was giving me a lift and we barely knew where we were going.  As we reached her car, it started to rain.  He texted me and said, “Oh wait!  That bar is closed today, haha”, with no suggestion of an alternative…


I was in the car with my friend not knowing where I was even going.  In the end, she had to just drop me on the side of the road at a bus stop because we weren’t randomly going to drive around waiting for his text.

So there I was.  At a bus stop.  In the rain.  Wearing all white.  No umbrella.  Waiting for this idiot to text me.  I was a short walk away from a bus stop that goes straight to my home, but I said to myself, “No, don’t be a bitch.  Just go on the date”.  Who knows, I might even have fun!  Right?

Finally he texted.

Him: “How about a walk into the rocks if you’re up for a bit of an adventure?”

My anger was slowly rising.

Me: “Doesn’t sound ideal, I’m wearing all white and I don’t have an umbrella.”

Him: “All white!  That’s an interesting choice.”

Me: “It wasn’t a choice it was a theme.  Where are we going?”

I wasn’t sure if he could tell I was pissed off but he suggested another bar, which he didn’t even know the name of.  I was 4 steps away from a train station that would take me right there so I agreed and made my way over.

I’d never had any pre-date nerves, and this one was no different.  It was only different in the sense that I was mildly enraged at the wild goose chase I had unwillingly embarked upon.  Already from this guy’s profile I knew I wasn’t really going to be into it, i.e., the first word on his bio was “dancer”.


I had such a hard time swiping right for anyone.  I found the whole process extremely vapid, and I generally don’t find someone attractive for their looks alone.  Another reason why Tinder is not the app for me.  His profile went on to say he was into acting, practices massage therapy, and “Girls to the left, ladies to the right”, which I’ll admit, did make me lol, so I swiped right after much internal debate.

I got to the bar and he was already there.  Much to my surprise he was better looking than his pictures, but I still wasn’t into it.  I made a remark about the weather being “fucked” (but really I’m talking about him), and went to the bar to get myself a drink as he already had one.  One gin and tonic, and we’re off.

After talking for a bit about complete nothing, I asked him how his Tinder was going as I had no attraction to him whatsoever, and couldn’t care less about his interactions with other females.  And for what he told me, I’m glad I went on this date, because the story he told was OUTRAGEOUS.

His first Tinder date took place in Perth, where he arranged to pick up his date as she wasn’t familiar with the bar he suggested.  If you did this in Sydney I’m pretty sure you’d end up raped and/or murdered by week’s end but maybe in Perth it was safe to get into a stranger’s car?  Who knows.  She was visibly nervous upon entering the vehicle and he could see that something wasn’t quite right, so he asked if she was OK.  She said she was fine.  He started driving, and as he did the doors locked automatically (fancy car) and she freaked out.  He said, “Everything’s OK!  That’s automatic!  We don’t have to go on this date if you don’t want to.”  She assured him that she was OK, and they carried on to the bar.

She went on to tell him about her first 3 Tinder dates, and pretty soon it was quite apparent why she had been so nervous.  The first one she turned up and her date was in a wheelchair, with no forewarning whatsoever.  An obvious shock to anyone, but I understand why he would hide it.


The second date she turned up and he was deaf.  They couldn’t even communicate!  He could understand her because he could read lips but she couldn’t understand him.  I pictured her on the date with a deaf man, sitting at opposite ends of a table, communicating via Tinder message…Lol.  It was at this point I mused that she must be lying.  No one could have this much bad luck, let alone 2 dates in a row!  And he said, “Well she was obviously turning up to our date thinking I was going to have a third arm.”  True that.

Then came the third date.  The most horrifying of them all.  She was talking to a guy, her age, good looking.  She went to meet up with him, reached the bar and couldn’t see anyone there that looked like him so she sat down to wait.  Within about 10 minutes a man who was in his late 40s approached her at the bar.  It turned out he was posing as his son on Tinder!  She got up to leave as he pleaded, “Stay for just one drink”, which she rightfully declined.

Honestly.  You can’t make that shit up!  I was amazed.  And horrified.  And amazed!  How did she make it to the 4th date let alone the 2nd?  Wherever that girl is, she needs a trophy for the stress she’s endured.

So there we were on a Sunday, 2 drinks in, conversation dwindling, and with work the next day… I decided to tap out.  But, knowing my luck, he was also catching the same train as me, and changing over at my station.  Brilliant!

As obligatory ride-or-die train buddies now, we selected the 3-seater.  I was by the window and he sat pressed up against me.  He had his legs crossed, basically pinning me to the wall with no escape.  I did my best not to linger with eye contact much ’cause I could tell it was getting creepy.  I really didn’t want to kiss him, and why should I?  I shouldn’t have to do something I don’t want to do!

We reached my stop and jumped out.  I told him I had a fun time and pretty much ran away.

Safely inside my home I looked at my phone and he had texted me saying he had a great time and that he probably would be deleting tinder soon, but he’d like to take me out again if I was interested.  I replied with, “Hey buddy, I’m not sure that there is really a romantic connection for me here but I think that you’re awesome and funny, and seeing as you’re not in a wheelchair, deaf or someone’s dad, I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding a nice lady.”  To which he replied, “Yolo,” with a fist bump emoticon.  Gotta say, that’s a pretty strange response to an I’m-just-not-that-into-you text, but I’ll take it!  He unmatched me after that, and I was glad.

For the story

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My first ever Tinder date

I’m trying to remember back to a time when Tinder was all shiny and new, and believe me, it’s a hard task.  I can’t even remember the lucky guy’s name that popped my Tinder cherry but nevertheless we shall press on.

It was around Christmastime and I was chatting to a guy who was here from Perth visiting his family.  He was cute, tall and funny – sure why not?  We arranged to meet at a local bar that weekend and I deliberately arrived first so I could suss him out as he was approaching.  He looked like his pictures, was 6’1 as stated in his profile and we actually had a lot in common.  Well played, Tinder!  We took turns buying cocktail jugs over a couple of hours (no dinner) and not surprisingly we got pretty smashed.


I suggested we go upstairs where there was a dance floor area (a tactic so we could get a bit closer, wink wink), and it was only then that I realised that although he was tall, he wasn’t very built.  He was quite skinny… Like I’m talking my bicep > his.  We had been sitting across from each other for our entire date and I had quite a different physical perception of him from seated to standing.  Shallow right?  I wasn’t ready to write him off just yet but then he started dancing and he was quite possibly the worst dancer I’d ever seen.


Although concerning, these weren’t total deal breakers and I was willing to continue the night until he leaned in and kissed me… DEATH BREATH!  Nope, sorry, that’ll do me!  There are few things that deter me more than someone lacking basic hygiene.  Strike 3, it was over.

He excused himself to go to the bathroom and it was then that it drunkenly hit me;  I could stay and do the polite, yet awkward goodbye which could possibly end with us leaving together anyway because I was quite intoxicated, or I was going to take the coward’s way out and leave right then and there.  I opted for the latter, and with a flourish, threw my drink down (which had barely a sip taken out of it) and physically ran out of the bar, not stopping till I was in a cab.

My foggy mind came up with nothing better than, “My sister has been in a fight and I had to go to her”, sent via text.  We were in Sydney’s eastern suburbs, not the Freedom Writers movie.  Even if she had been in a fight, how long does it take a guy to pee, seriously?  Unless he was planning to brush his teeth in there which I sincerely doubted.  He replied. “Fair enough”.

He text me again the following morning to say he’d had a great time with me and I did feel pretty bad.  In hindsight it wasn’t even comparable to some of the horrors I’ve had since, but all’s fair in love and Tinder.

Heart better than nothing

Signing off,


Dave – A Dating Disaster

Here’s a tale of a friend’s experience with eHarmony… not so harmonious after all.

Like many other women, I too wanted to find love, settle down, have kids, the whole shebang.  I’d heard average things about Tinder so I thought I’d give eHarmony a go because:

  1. It’s a paid service, and
  2. The questionnaire takes approximately 86 years to fill out (all the better to find your ‘perfect match’).

So surely it’d filter out all the guys that were only DTF, right?

After chatting to a few men via email, I came across a guy named Nick.  He seemed normal enough, had a decent job, spoke highly of his family, etc.  He asked me what I was passionate about, so I began to tell him my family, friends, work etc. (fairly standard), and he informed me he was passionate about men’s rights against women.  I asked him what he meant by that and he said ‘Violence against men from women’.  I thought ‘Hmm OK, fair enough,’ and decided to not delve too deeply into that one.  He then sent me a novel of an email telling me how his ex used to bash him (he was a 6’6 huge fire fighter according to his pics) but that was OK, because her new partner murdered her last week and “SHE DESERVED IT!”


Stick a fork in me, I was done!  Needless to say, I blocked him and went on a break from eHarmony for a while.  Clearly their filtration system wan’t as fine-tuned as I had anticipated.

I then came across Dave.  We met for coffee one afternoon and again, he seemed nice enough, appeared to have nice friends, nice family, decent job and told me he was looking for love and was sick of games, etc., (tick, tick, tick).  I still wasn’t entirely sold, so I decided to remain in contact as friends.  However, I began to get drunken calls and texts from this 30 year old MAN at all hours of the night for months to come.  I was too old for that shit so I stopped responding.  This didn’t stop Dave though!  I began to hear from him almost every week for the next 2 and a half YEARS.

I guess I was beginning to think that there was something wrong with me because I just didn’t seem to like anyone and I thought maybe I was being too picky.  So when I received a happy birthday call from Dave and he said he wanted to fly up to QLD to take me on a date, I thought well, why not?  He’d been chasing me for years – surely he’d grown up a bit by now and I should just stop being so picky.


So he flew up for my birthday, took me out and I actually had a good time!  The next few weeks progressed quite quickly and he was flying me down to Sydney every weekend to see him.  He introduced me to his parents, friends, and told me he didn’t want me to see anyone else.  I’m not sure how conversations about relationships go these days, but I figured there were enough ‘signs’ to assume that we were exclusive.  He was still doing stupid drunken things, but I thought I could look past it.

I was down in Sydney for my best friend’s 30th and had invited Dave to attend with me to meet my friends.  He declined and said that he wasn’t drinking that weekend, which was weird considering he seemed to be drunk during most conversations I had with him.

So when I received a drunken call from him the morning of her party and he asked me to pick him up (in his car) from wherever he was, I went to ensure he was OK.  He reeked of booze but insisted that he was OK to drive.  I didn’t feel safe with him behind the wheel but there wasn’t a lot I could do, he was being very rude and basically threatened to leave me there if I didn’t let him drive.  His phone was in full view on the dashboard and suddenly it started vibrating with message alerts from Tinder!

Me: “So you’re on Tinder then?”

Him: “Well why do we need to put a label on us?”

I felt like an idiot.  It was pretty clear to me that I was looking at a very immature little boy who I wanted absolutely nothing to do with.   I turned to him and said “We don’t, let me out of the car”.  And that was that.  My friend came to pick me up from the middle of Oxford street and I was bawling my eyes out.  How could I have been so stupid?  I haven’t spoken to him since and yet he still tries to get in touch with me via every social platform in existence.


I can laugh about it now, but it was a good lesson to always go with your gut.  I didn’t have a good feeling about him from the start, and then started questioning myself and my own morals and beliefs.  I learnt to keep my head held high, stick to my guns and know what I wanted and it eventually came to me.  I’m now happily involved with someone I met organically and it’s officially the best feeling in the world!

waste of time

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Read receipts: The mind fuck of our generation

Let me just preface this by saying; if you have these turned on you are a monster who just wants to watch the world burn.   I’m obviously talking from a dating perspective here – I understand some people need to have them turned on for work purposes, but in general, I’m not a fan.

There’s nothing more emotionally crushing than asking a potential love interest a lighthearted question such as “How was your day?” or “Did that presentation go okay?” and seeing that it’s been read but getting no response, OR getting a response so late in the game that the question being asked is now irrelevant.  If we have crossed over into a new day, then you have taken too long to respond and I no longer care what your answer is.

Eventually he does text back though, and then what?  What are the options?

1 – You keep your response time normal like everything’s peachy because you can’t let the crazy out this early on,

2 – You think, ‘Game on’, and double the time he took to write back,

3 – You don’t respond and wait till he texts again (yeah that’s right bitch, you can double text if you want me, commit the ultimate texting faux pas), or

4 – You block his number from ever contacting you again because he clearly hates you and was probably banging someone else when you texted.


Is it all part of a game?  I personally would say I’m too old for games and tend not to play them too hard till a card like this is drawn and then I start channeling Britney Spears… Oh, it is ONNN!


TechCrunch describe read receipts as an “effortless way to make people feel ignored”.  Read receipts are just a way for someone to get the upper hand!  They say, “I was soooo busy I just couldn’t respond”.  As if!  It takes 23 seconds to send a text, even something like, “Hey I’m just having dinner, will call you later”, is better than nothing.

It’s so much more insulting to know that someone has read your text and has absolutely no sense of urgency to write back… It’s as if they don’t GAF.  I’m putting a plea out: for the love of god, say no to read receipts.  Just turn them off!  Respond to my text when you see fit but don’t leave me counting the minutes since knowing you last read my text.


I’d much rather come up with theories such as your phone is dead/lost/stolen, you’ve fallen asleep, you’ve written a reply but forgotten to press send, your cat is sleeping on your phone, all your fingers broke simultaneously, you’re in jail or you’ve died in a fire.

Signing off,