Warning, OUTRAGEOUS is a series of filth, swearing, insanity and gross images. The easily offended (and not so easily) and anyone under about 35 should stop reading right now!
Let me tell you about something that I think is ridiculous. You know, on dating sites and in lonely hearts, which I only ever look at out of curiosity, obviously, not because I can’t meet anyone for myself or anything. Anyway, you get all these people, for some reason mainly women it must be said, who along with all their other criteria for a prospective mate, demand the prospect be “without baggage”. Is it just me, or is that ridiculous?
Surely, unless you’re about twenty and a lucky twenty at that, everyone has baggage of one kind or another. Anyone who answers your ad for a paramour and professes to be unencumbered by luggage of any description is both a scoundrel and a liar. It also tells me you consider yourself to be without baggage. Are you really? In the deep recesses of your mind, in the dark quiet of your lonely bed, no thoughts that might, by an outside observer, be considered as baggage? Go on. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not doing a bit of bag-portering of your own…
Another thing you may not have considered is that anyone who genuinely hasn’t any baggage hasn’t damn well been anywhere! Never had their heart broken or broke someone else’s heart. Never lost a grandparent or even a beloved pet. Never had a serious illness. Never fell out of a tree and been left afraid of heights. Never travelled to somewhere staggeringly beautiful or seen something hideous and been changed as a person by the experience. Never been bullied, or called hurtful names like pig face, bum-crack, fat bastard or tiny little penis boy – or, um, perhaps something a bit less specific.
Baggage is just a term for the knocks that life gives us all and the big happy things leave dents in our person as much as the bad. The birth of that child, the wonderful wedding, the missing being hit by a speeding truck by inches and being overjoyed at still being alive and not a torn and battered heap, crumpled like an old cigarette packet at the end of long red skid marks. It’s all baggage.
And what would you get with a person with no baggage? You’d get a one-sided, charm-less, uninteresting, dull, naïve, dreadfully tedious, tailor shop dummy, who would repeatedly tell you the same inane, unfunny anecdote until your head exploded like a big meaty firework. Now tell me you want your head to explode like a big meaty firework from utter screaming boredom and I‘ll get a mirror and show you another lying varlet.
Or are you worried the baggage might include previous partners and you being so down on yourself you’re afraid that you won’t be able to compete with their memory? People, ladies in particular as previously stated, asking someone to travel to you – so to speak – without any baggage at all, is tantamount to the guys who still have some dumb expectation of marrying a virgin. Deary me. In this day and age you’d be a member of a very small club indeed.
Oh, and why are all overweight girls in these ads “cuddly” and all black girls “bootylicious”. Have a bit of imagination, for crying out loud! You have a personality, don’t you? Why not say “witty lady with minor cake addiction” or “Loving black girl with enormous arse”.
If you say you’re cuddly (Or even “bubbly”, another certain giveaway) as the main part of your description, it just shouts: “I’m warning you now, I’m fat and you probably won’t like me anyway. I don’t want replies from any men with issues over fat girls, though I have a huge issue with being fat and will want constant reassurance that I’m still a worthwhile human being and that, yes, you do fancy me more than Gwyneth that-stick-thin-bitch Paltrow.”
As for bootylicious, I just think really? In who’s opinion lard arse? Anyone who would call herself bootylicious must be so far up their own back passages, you’d never see them anyway. Bet they live in houses crammed with mirrors. And have you seen some of them? booty-fucking-licious would be the last word I’d use to describe most of them, even if there were an infinite number of words for me to choose from. “What the fuck is that thing?” springs to mind for starters. Most of you bootys are either deranged or have really bloody poor eyesight and need a booty up the bike-rack to check you back into hotel reality.
As for the you “must be professional and have own house and car” girls, that just tells me you’re a money-worshiping cow who prefers creature comforts and cash over human qualities. If he’s financially secure, it doesn’t matter to you if he’s caring, loyal, kind to animals, a crook, an O J Simpson in the making…
For those of you mercenary types who have since been gruesomely murdered by wealthy, but cruel and unstable men (or just slapped about, abused by them or even left unloved), see what you get for putting things before people? That’s placing stuff before humanity. A nice car over a nice person. A new handbag over a stroked neck when you’re puking your guts up and you wish the big soft lump would leave you alone, but you appreciate his caring gesture anyway.
So what I deduce from all this is that, if you get a date through the lonely hearts, you will end up with a “cuddly”, bootylicious black girl, who expects you to be at least decently well off and with no baggage, unless it’s sacks full of cash.
Yep That about sums it up.
Unfair? Life’s full of unfairness.
Welcome to offer me a Blog duel on this or anything else…
Hey, I just invented that, I think… Blog Duelling, anyone know if it happens already? If not, I do hereby and forthwith copywrite said term “Blog Duel” and the related idea as my own, made up straight out of my brain with no help from anyone else‘s brain. Therefore any related profits from said “Blog Duel“, or related spin-off products shall be mine all mine, including cheques, luncheon vouchers and small change.
Get out of that you bloody lawyers and other idea thieves. Watertight, I think you would agree. Me? The name’s Mason. Perry Mason. So you see, you have no chance in a court against me. I could have said Ironside, he was pretty sharp as well, but the wheelchair put me off the idea. Perry Mason it is.
I should get a girlfriend. That’s what you’re all thinking. Too much time on my hands and all that. Well, if it stops you worrying about me, I might try the on-line dating thing one of these days. Do you think any of my prospective victims, sorry, I meant partners, would swallow it if I told them I had no baggage?
They’d have to be pretty thick, right?