Category Archives: Unsolicited advice
How do you go from hanging out to making out?
Despite the best efforts of cinema and TV to convince us human beings can be smooth in seduction, most of the time we’re as ham-fisted at that as we are at everything else. Flailing around and trying to act cool when really we’ve no idea what the actual fuck we’re doing. Which is why it’s lovely to encounter someone who manages to pull off a smooth transition: from hanging out to making out, with no pissing about in the middle.
Wouldn’t that be a thing?
Back in August last year, I wrote a post called ‘love is an addiction’. In that blog, which I typed up as a distraction to help me hold off the urgent, all-encompassing desire to text my ex-boyfriend, I said this…
“It feels like trying to quit smoking – an exercise as vital as it is futile, at which I have failed every single time I’ve tried. But I still haven’t sent that text so now I wonder if the wasted, flabby muscle that might once have been my willpower is growing with each passing day. Perhaps every text I compose and do not send builds that muscle up – flexes it, makes it stronger. Maybe if I can make it through the next six months, I can make that muscle strong enough that it’ll haul me through to the end of my smoking addiction. Wouldn’t that be a thing?”
Well, here’s a thing: I quit smoking.
What to say when someone offers nudes
I don’t want your unsolicited nudes or dick pics, but I do appreciate a good nude or dick pic offer from a guy I already know. The generosity of men often blows me the fuck away, and over the last six months or so, kind horny dudes have occasionally sent me shudderingly sexy messages which say something along the lines of: would you like a dick pic? Usually when someone offers nudes, a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ won’t quite suffice…
Show me your ‘no’: the falsification principle of dating
One of the inherent difficulties with dating blog readers (and I should note here that I have not done much of it) is that by the time you’ve asked GOTN on a date, there is very very little I can do to make you not want to fuck GOTN. I can turn up, as I always do, looking like a bag of shit. I can get messy drunk and say things that are awkward or uncool. I can sweat like a horse at the Grand National because we’re no longer in the depths of winter but I enjoy a lovely jumper nonetheless. And yet still… you’ve read my blog. You liked my blog. You enjoyed the filth I post so much that you invited me out on a date. So I have a dilemma, which is that I can never really tell if you genuinely like me, or like GOTN.
Stories, romance and ham & cheese croissants
I tiptoe into the flat through the door she’s left unlocked, because I don’t want to wake her when I get in. On the pillow in the spare bedroom, she’s left a fresh towel and two chocolates, and seeing them makes my heart burst with love. I spy from the hallway that the light is on in her room, so I can’t resist asking: “psst – you up?” I could wait till tomorrow to talk to her, but I’m brimming with eagerness now. I can spill all the details over ham and cheese croissants at breakfast, but she is awake right now, so she says “yes! Come in! Report back! Did you get alllllll the spunk?”