Men Of Tinder


After yet another horrific tinder date (see previous post -The City Slicker ) and his bizarre need to send me unwanted cock shots!?! I felt compelled to write this…

We do not want to see your flaccid microscopic manhood flashing up on our phone screens. – It’s very awkward when you’re travelling on London transport and the person next to you is being overly nosy!

We laugh at your ‘come hither’ photos of you lying naked, seductively sprawled across your bed. – We know it took you 20 odd attempts to get that ‘perfect shot’.

And we laugh even more when our mutual friends pop up!

So men of tinder, I urge you to put your penises away and have some dignity…Don’t be that guy.


I Survived V Day



I am proud to announce that I have survived the tsunami that is V Day!

Every year without fail it storms in with its varying shades of red, Love hearts, flowers and over the top couples hopelessly in love, well for that one day a least!

Followed quickly by a monsoon of vomit inducing Facebook status’s and updates…So I did what any sensible woman would do – I took shelter, the retro way and ditched social media.

I have come back out of hiding, turned my wifi back on and re-joined the 21st Century once again!

I’m sure this post sounds like the ranting bitterness of a woman who spent Valentines alone. Yes, in food stained pyjamas, overdosing on chick flick’s and swigging wine from the bottle – as she larily shouts abuse at the all the leading men in said movies, all the while projecting her cynical and scorned self upon them. Ha! I was not that woman.

I had quite possibly the best Valentine’s day date….and no it wasn’t with my cat. Although she did send me a card, I’m not sure if that makes my cat gay or if that fringes on me being insanely weird or even weirder that my own mother sent it?

Instead I had a house guest, in the form of my amazing gay friend, who was down in London for his very first ever Tinder Valentines date!

We spent the day wandering around Borough Market, drinking hot ciders – as it’s completely acceptable to drink there at 11am and not look like a homeless alcoholic!

We then drunkenly stumbled along the river (in the rain) where I became a rather crap tour guide showing him the sights of Southbank!

I think I was more nervous than him for his date (well maybe not), but because of my own Tinder disappointments and previous horrific Valentines date nightmare (The Valentine from hell – I did not want that for him. However, I can safely say that his date has restored my faith in romance and Tinder!

Let’s hope my next Tinder date is as fit as his.

The Man With Tiny Feet


After weeks of texting and his endless stream of Snapchat selfies (a little vain perhaps, but at least I know he looks like his pictures and that is HOT!)

Squeezing into my Sandy from Grease trousers and a belly full of nerves, I jump on the tube and venture across the river to Camden, North London.

I spot my date in the distance – it is hard not too, when he is that fit! –  gliding along ‘on Cloud 9’ and beaming from ear to ear, I suddenly feel an almighty crash… is my heel caught in the pavement?  No it’s reality smashing me in the knee caps!

He has lied about his height. (more…)

It’s been a while…


It’s been a while since my last post, mainly due to the chaos of moving into my new flat and partially as I thought it was a good time to give myself a break from the dating world – seeing  as all of my tinder dates have been rapidly escalating from bad to excruciatingly awful.  The odds have not been in my favour!

It wasn’t until I was standing at the microwave meal Deals for One section in Tesco, alongside all the other singletons, that I had an epiphany – upon catching my reflection in the glass of the frozen food I had a vision of myself in 30 years’ time…

Wrapped in knitwear, with scraggily, un-brushed hair and cats climbing all over me whilst I stirred a massive pot of soup. I would become that strange, old, spinster lady that smells of a mixture of chicken soup and cat piss – who all the local children are convinced is a witch and just throw stones at her windows.

Shrieking in horror at my future self I ran home, threw all my soup in the bin, poured myself a glass of Prosecco and logged back in to tinder – ever the optimist!



The Sex God



Drooling as this bronzed Adonis walks through the bar – parting the hoards of women like Moses parting the seas – Oh My God this is my date and he is fitter than his pictures!

I can barely lift my jaw off the floor as he comes striding towards me with such perfectly chiselled features – he would be much more suited to a billboard (preferably one where he’s only wearing boxers!) than this bar. (more…)

The not so musician – Coming to a tube station near you…


Standing outside in the blistering wind and losing control of one contact lens – to the point that I am squinting so much that I now resemble a one-eyed pirate – is not a good look when attempting to find my date! (more…)

The Accidental Date



After losing track of who I was talking to, I had agreed to go on a date, only to realise 10 seconds later that I had replied to the wrong guy – I had now committed myself to a date with a man who looked alarmingly like a hamster? (more…)

The perks of being single


Having spent the evening with my favourite bosom buddy ‘Blossom Hill’ and losing myself in a full blown Bridget Jones marathon (which naturally resulted in a slight white wine melt down as I evaluated my life), I came to the conclusion that I was slowly becoming Miss B Jones herself or at the very least a version of! (more…)