My First Date(s)

Broken Home

My very first dating app experience is one that could have put me off dating forever, meaning this article would never have been written and, kids, if you're reading this, you may never have been born.

I walked into Costa and waved at a man who turned out not to be my date. Not a good start. Blushing, I went to order a coffee and that's when I saw him: A man, who looked vaguely like his picture, sitting in the corner drinking water and tapping the table with his fingers. I smiled and sat down as we got the awkward "how are yous" and "nice to meet yous" out the way.

"So, what do you do?" I asked.

"I work in petrol care. But, um, at the moment I'm looking after my brother. My dad's in prison you see, and my mum's off the rails so, I'm kind of like his dad at the moment."

The silence that followed was deafening until I hysterically tried to change the subject, moving from lasagne to dinosaurs with impressive speed. Not long after, I made my excuses and rushed back to work with, so I'm told, a look of horror on my face that didn't fade for the rest of the day.

Verdict: I was so terrified by this date that I deleted the app, swearing to myself that I would never go on a date again. But, true to my promise to you, dear reader, I downloaded a different app and powered through.

A Poor Man’s George Osborne

My first impression was that he looked like the Chancellor of the Exchequer, which was ironic considering he didn’t pay. Tall, broad and oh so public school, my second first date stood waiting for me outside Starbucks in a very swag suit. We said our hellos and went to buy coffee, and that's when I started sweating.

For no reason other than the Gods wanted to play a cruel joke on me, it was suddenly really hot and I could feel myself burning up. Luckily, he started talking about himself (I got the feeling he enjoyed that topic) about his personal training, his new business and his super king size bed. I started fanning myself down with my hands, not, I assure you, as a reaction to his bed, and suggested we go for a walk along South Bank. After walking for a little while, we started walking back, which is when he discovered the 9 year age gap.

"No way, you look so much older!" He shouted at me, where the date abruptly ended.

Verdict: We had a lot in common and he seemed like quite a funny guy, but there was absolutely no chemistry. And he thought I looked like an old hag. After this date, I made the decision never to go on a sober first date ever, ever again.

Irish Irish Coffee

There's a first date with a drink, and then there's a first date with a drink and an Irish guy.

That morning I received a photo image of an adorably cute guy wrapped in a leopard print blanket, asleep. Written underneath was: “I’m never drinking again. Until tonight.” We had arranged to go for a cocktail after work, which he assured me he was still up for, so I waited for him outside the bar. He came over to me, and said, “I’m never drinking again. I mean apart from the cider I just had.” Then we walked down to the bar, got drinks and he said, “I’m never drinking again, apart from right now.” Seriously?! He really didn’t do much for the stereotype, I’ll tell you that.

We had one cocktail, then another, and he suggested grabbing some dinner. We wondered to a tapas restaurant, chatted for ages, and then he suggested another post dinner drink. We talked, we laughed, we flirted. And then he gave me "that" look. I swept my hair back and then - he didn't kiss me. As I walked to the station, I was confused more than anything. There was definitely a spark, so why no kiss?

Verdict: Even though he turned up half cut, he had the most glorious jaw-line I’ve ever seen so perhaps I should have taken the bull by the horns, as it were. My solution? More alcohol.

Laced in Chelsea

From chatting to this particular gentleman, it was clear that he was intelligent and cultured. He made reference to books that I pretended to read at school, bands I’ve never heard of and history I have no knowledge of. Considering I have a history degree, this was worrying. I was, therefore, incredibly intimidated when he suggested going to the Battersea Power Station for our first date – my industrial history is very rusty.

I had no reason to be intimidated. As the queue to the Power Station was too long, we went for a walk through Battersea Park to Chelsea where we talked about everything from broken bones to past relationships, managing to get through the entire park without a single awkward pause. Then we hit up the first of five pubs, and that was us done; by pub two we were best friends, by pub three we’d had our first kiss and by pub four we’d given all our change to a tramp and befriended three pissed Chelsea housewives.

Verdict: Despite the obvious breaking of the ‘don’t get drunk on the first date’ rule, this was hands down the most fun first date I've ever had. Shut up, I'm not blushing.

There's Chemistry

The first time I saw this guy, I was relieved. I had been wearing heels all day and the thought of walking around the Science Museum for their late night adult evening had me whimpering in pain. As he approached me, I took in his height and safely decided to switch my heels to flats. That’s not to say he wasn’t my type, but being 5’3”, height is rarely what I look for in a man. After becoming accustomed to his Northern accent, conversation flowed easily, and we spoke about our jobs, our families and our love for nerdy museum trips as we walked to the Science Museum. Despite being 25, he got IDed on the way in, which he managed to shrug off cooly. It must happen a lot.

The great thing about Science Museum lates is the booze. We shared some wine, laughed at the space toilet and wandered through the museum with that childlike excitement that only happens when you’re with someone you have a connection with. We passed on the silent disco and bitched about the DJ, walked past the tranny bingo and spent a long time chatting. We kissed at the end of the date, fuelled by much wine, a great date and the fuzzy happiness that comes with it.

Verdict: While we got on really well, there was no spark, but I nearly forgot about all that due to the location. Science Museum Lates happen on the last Wednesday of every month. What are you waiting for?

Hockey Jock

This is the first date that I was actually nervous about. Not because I was anxious about what he would think of me, but because he is a foot taller than me. I pulled my highest heels out of my bag and gulped. I would need to drink a lot to get through this shoe pain. And I did.

He met me after work, and I was immediately attracted to him. He was tall (luckily my heels were doing the job and he wasn't too tall) good looking, and very charming. After the first drink was out of the way, conversation flowed quite freely and it wasn't long until we were joking and laughing together as if this wasn't an awkward first date arranged on an app.

One drink turned into two and so on and so forth until we were getting out our phones looking for the nearest karaoke bar. Somewhere after our second kiss, reason slapped me in the face and I insisted we get the train home before this turned into a wild night of debauchery and I would have to turn up to work in yesterday's clothes. There was some pretty steamy kissing on public transport (sorry, London) and then we said our goodbyes.

Verdict: He was obviously a really fun guy, and it was a really fun date, but he seemed to bring out my immature and crazy side, which I'm not sure is a good thing.

British Transport Bore

Did you know that travelling to Wales actually takes less time than you thought it did? Neither did I, until my first date with an IT consultant. I actually work in IT (unexpected I know - we're not all middle-aged men) so I thought that if all else failed, we'd have something in common as we work in the same industry. I was wrong.

After 10 minutes trying to convince him that the company I work for is actually kind of a big deal in the IT space, he brought up his favourite topic: transport. Until this point he had come across shy, and a little unsure of himself, but as soon as he started talking about his family's different living locations, he was on a roll.

"So really, if you think about it, the train misses out the stops on the way, whereas on the motorway, you're reliant on traffic and various other factors: accidents, weather conditions etcetera. I mean, it could be raining, snowy, icy..." This was about the time I fell asleep with my eyes open.

Verdict: I feel bad because he did genuinely seem like a sweet guy, but just a tip to all you transport loving gentlemen out there: leave it out of the first date conversation.

Overall Verdict

Before using dating apps, I was convinced that dating tools weren’t for me. I was a firm believer in meeting someone the traditional way, getting to know them, then going on a date - if you both got on. But since I became single earlier this year, I’ve discovered that it is impossible to meet people the traditional way, because no one has the time.

Dating apps made me realise that dates aren’t hard to get, if you’re looking in the right places. You could have a date tonight if you wanted to. No, I’m not joking. And in an unintentional journey of self-discovery, I found that I actually enjoy dating, despite the crazies that encouraged me to get me to a nunnery.

It’s no overemphasis when I say that dating apps have opened up a whole new world when it comes to modern dating. It is hardly the “jungle” that Bridget Jones frets about any more. Of course, with new styles of dating come new dating problems… but that’s for another article, don’t you think?

Appy Dating

There is still a stigma around online dating, whether we like it or not. Words like "desperate" and "lazy" swim to the forefront of our minds as we imagine overweight 30-somethings sitting alone eating Doritos with their computers on their laps, continually clicking refresh on their online dating profile.

Nowadays, however, it's not so much online dating that has taken in the 20-something generation, it is dating apps. Not only are they less intrusive than online dating which requires a bio, photos, likes and dislikes, blood type etc., apps are far easier and quicker to use - "One swipe and you're done!". Hence the appeal to a 22 year old who barely has time for the gym, let alone finding a suitable man to go to Christmas markets with.

Let this not fool you into thinking that dating apps are by any means "safe" or "normal". In fact, the easier they are to download, the more likely you are to find absolute idiots on them. Let's be honest here, 90% of the people on dating apps are certified freaks. And even the ones that seem normal enough to go on a date with may reveal a hidden past that will have you running for the last train faster than you can say, "Thanks for dinner."

This is not today that successful relationships cannot be founded through dating apps. In fact, I know a lovely couple that met through an app, and who are properly in love. To be fair, it is just the one couple. For most of my friends, online dating is a tool used for quick and easy dates that may or may not end up in the bedroom. You can imagine one of my friend’s horror therefore when she secured a date in under 15 minutes, only to find that later that evening he had a particularly, ahem, soft touch.

If you’ve read this blog before, you will know that I am nothing if not thorough when it comes to researching the topics that I choose to write about. Bearing this in mind, I thought the only fair way to get a true sense of dating via an app, would be to download a couple myself. Please see my findings below.

Exhibit A: Overshare Extraordinarre

Exhibit B: When a person lives up to their name

Exhibit C: Undiluted Crazy

Exhibit D: People still use chat up lines, apparently.

From Exhibit A through to Exhibit D, you can see that there is a certain kind of man that is attracted to the realms of dating apps. The screen shots I’ve included are not the worst things that people have said to me, merely the funniest. A common trend on dating apps is this phrase: “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Well, neither am I, I’m doing this for a social experiment, but I won’t just come out and tell a stranger that on an app. Generally men on dating apps can be put into two camps: in it to win it or ego boost. The first type of man will go on a date with you to see if there is potential for getting lucky. The second type of man will flirt his little butt off but will never ever ask you out.

So, would I recommend dating apps? Generally, they’re a bit of fun, but in order to really dive deep into whether apps are the modern dating tool, I guess I’m going to have to get out there and go on some dates. Shall we say seven? Wish me luck!

Blurred Lines

[Please feel free to listen to Blurred Lines while you read this article, but do not watch the video as it is both distracting and hateful to all women without perfect physiques.]

We've all been in relationships. And we have all been in a scenario where you have been sort-of-kind-of-with-someone in some dimension, but it is so difficult to define you don't even bother. There's fuck buddies, friends with benefits etc. but different rules apply to different couples. It is easily forgiven, therefore, that people in this world have no idea how dating works anymore. (Present company included.)

Through the powers of eavesdropping, I have come to a terrifying realization – none of us are safe.

I noted down the conversations of a few certain individuals who made it blatantly obvious what kind of relationship they thought they were in, and blatantly obvious that it’s time to be seriously worried about the dating world.

Friends with Benefits. And girlfriends.

A man is on the phone smoking a cigarette outside the pub. He has a suit on and is incredibly hot. You now understand why I got so close.

MAN: Yeah, that sounds good. You know how I love that.

[pause]

Okay, but the thing is, Hannah will be home at 8, so you're going to have to, err, not be there.

[pause, sound of shrill squeaking from the other end of the phone]

Yes of course I’m going to end it, but I explained it to you, now is not a good time to break up with her because of the situation with her mother.

[pause]

Yes, yeah. No, I hear you. But then… I mean, I suppose forcing me to end it with her would make you a terrible person. So you see, I'm in a really tough position here. And you know how I feel about you...

[pause]

Yes. Exactly. Oh, gotta go, about to go underground.

[pause]

Yeah, you too. Bye.

[Smiles to himself]

Comments: Clearly this man is a penis. Clearly this man is not going to break up with his girlfriend. What is also clear, is that the girl he was on the phone to is an idiot. Unfortunately, she is not the only idiot to fall for a penis, and the sad fact of the matter is that Friends with Benefits is not as clear cut as it used to be. If you find yourself to be the idiot in this situation, I suggest jumping ship immediately.

Madly in Hate

A man and woman sit next to each other in a coffee shop, both facing slightly away from one another with their arms crossed.

MAN: Are you over it yet?

WOMAN: [hissing and spluttering] Of course I’m not over it. You humiliated me in front of an entire cafe. [she looks around at all the people who have no idea what just happened]

MAN: That’s an over exaggeration and you know it. It’s not my fault you were too blind to recognize that you paid in Euros and not pounds.

WOMAN: You bastard.

MAN: Bitch.

[They look at each other. Within seconds they embrace passionately]

WOMAN: [in between kisses] I’m still -  mad - at you - you know.

MAN: I know.

WOMAN: I don’t even like you.

MAN: I don’t like you either. Now shut up.

[They kiss]

Comments: If you find yourself Madly in Hate with someone, keep at it. You clearly have the hottest of hot sex and while you may end up crashing and burning at some point down the line, enjoy it while it lasts.

In a Reluctant Relationship

A man and two women sit in a popular lunch restaurant. The women look as if they are on the offensive.

MAN: She’s just a friend, staying over because she lives far away.

WOMAN 1: I'm sorry, don't they have public transport outside of London?

WOMAN 2: And you know she has a thing for you.

MAN: It’s not like that. And you both know I would never cheat.

[WOMAN 1 is suddenly overcome with a coughing fit]

WOMAN 2: Of course we know that. But she is a lingerie model. Sleeping in your house. When everyone else is out for the weekend.

MAN: Look, every boy wants a blowjob from a nice lady. But that doesn’t change how I feel about Patti.

WOMAN 1: Well, does she know about this girl staying over?

MAN: [He scratches his neck] Not exactly… But it would just cause an unnecessary argument.

[WOMAN 1 and WOMAN 2 look at MAN incredulously]

MAN: Don’t worry ladies, I’m not stupid. Sometimes you have to think with your heart, and not your dick.

Comments: Apparently even the nice ones see blurred lines in their relationships. Now not all boyfriends engage in this kind of behavior, but still gives you something to think about doesn’t it?

Three in a bed

GIRL 1: So we were emailing non-stop. And I mean non-stop. If I took more than a couple of hours to reply, he would ask me if everything was alright.

GIRL 2: Keen.

GIRL 1: Exactly, that’s what I thought. I thought I had the upper hand, and that he was way more into me than I was into him. And then suddenly, just as I was getting comfortable, he stopped. Just completely went off the radar.

GIRL 2: Well maybe he got locked out of his emails, or maybe-

GIRL 1: Yes, or maybe he was scared by our sudden attraction. But then last week he started emailing me again. Even asked me on a date. But then as soon as I suggested a location [she smacked the table] BAM! He disappears.

GIRL 2: Yes, it must be the sudden attraction thing. Or maybe… I mean perhaps…

GIRL 1: What, perhaps what?

GIRL 2: Maybe he has a girlfriend. Why else would he drop completely off the radar when it comes to seeing each other?

[GIRL 1 is silent for a few minutes]

GIRL 1: So should I email him again?

GIRL 2: [sighs]

Comments: Listen to your friends ladies. They are the mirrors that you constantly try to avoid, and while you may hate them for suggesting the worst, they are looking out for you.

Secretly in Love Fuck Buddies

WOMAN: So I'm nearly home and I've had a few glasses of wine, did you want to come over? I thought you might say that. [giggles girlishly] And then maybe tomorrow we could -

[pause]

Oh you are? That's a shame because I thought we could -

[pause]

But Mother's Day was in March.

[pause]

Oh I see. Yeah. OK.

[pause]

Yeah, I'm excited to see you too. I’ll be twenty minutes.

Comments: Some women can have sex and simply not get feelings. I have yet to meet a woman like this. The sad fact is, once we have sex, we form an attachment to the person we have sex with.

"What is this bitch on about? Not me."

I admire your smuggery, dear reader. It may take weeks or even months, but eventually it will hit you like a smack in the face that you kinda, sorta, like him. Don’t say I never warned you.

I L-ike You

A couple sit on a blanket together in Hyde Park. She lies on his chest while he strokes her hair. They laugh as he whispers something in her ear. I get very paranoid thinking they can see up my skirt. They cannot.

MAN: You’re great.

WOMAN: [Smiles] Thanks. You’re alright I suppose.

MAN: I, er, I like you.

WOMAN: [sits up] I like you too.

MAN: So are we..?

WOMAN: I guess.

MAN: Are you cool with that?

WOMAN: Definitely. I just have to explain the situation to Tom.

MAN: [Tenses] Who the hell is Tom?

WOMAN: Just this guy I'm seeing. No worries. [She lies back on his chest]

Comments: #awkward. He thought he was well in there, and then it hit him like a hangover – they weren’t on the same page at all. He couldn’t be angry – after all, she technically handn’t done anything wrong, but she’s still a bit of a dick.

Overall Summary: It is scary how much goes on behind the curtains in a relationship. Some couples hate each other, but they have great sex so who cares? Some couples think they’re madly in love, but have absolutely no idea that their other half is philandering, or getting very close to adulterous behaviour, behind their back. And some people have absolutely no idea whether they’re a couple or not.

What does this tell us about the dating world? It’s a treacherous place, full of twists and turns and hidden secrets that keep you constantly on your toes. There is no set “way” to date. There is no definitive “relationship”. We just have to battle on through the weirdos, the dickheads and the obsessives until we find that person that has the same fucked up definition of a relationship as we do.

Final words: Plod along until you find someone hung like Robin Thicke.

Latitude Festival: A Review

Latitude: A Review

I woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of drunk, giggling girls and the notable smell of a particular Class B drug. As I opened my eyes to the lurid pink and green pattern of my newly purchased tent, I groaned.

So this is what festivals are like.

Before last weekend, I had never been to a festival before, but I thought the time had come to get over my fear of sleeping outdoors, public toilets and general greenery when I was offered an amazing opportunity to attend Latitude Festival, in return for this article. 

I drove to Norwich with my friend Charlotte, who had a tent, a penchant for Pimms and a little experience of tenting (which I later found out is called camping - regardless of whether there is a fire or not). After a brief hassle of trying to get into the festival, we were finally in the midst of hundreds of tents, the smell of portable barbecues burning in our noses. It was easy to find a spot next to some strong looking men (one must think about protection from wild animals when sleeping outdoors) and after dumping our stuff on the grass, Charlotte threw our pop-up tent in the air - only for it to come crashing back down to earth. We stared at each other stupidly.

"Let me try," I insisted, as I picked up the mangled pile of material and metal poles. I threw the bundle in the air, only this time, broken bits of pole fell out of the tent lining. We started to laugh - what else could we do? - and sat on the massacred remains of what was once a tent. Then the anger kicked in. Charlotte started cursing her brother who failed to mention that the tent was broken, as I started swearing about effing pop-up tents and false advertising. Hearing our distress, some kind neighbours tried to help before one eloquent gentlemen proclaimed, "Sorry ladies, you're fucked."

Luckily, this was Latitude, and within minutes, I had located another, albeit expensive, functional pop-up tent. And some much needed alcohol. With our new tent intact, it was time to start enjoying ourselves.

After a few glasses of Pimms, we made our way into the woods. Daunting as this may sound, it was the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. Imagine A Midsummer Night's Dream with live music and more wellies. Cascading string lights went from tree to tree, leading the way to the main area of the festival, while random yurts and wooden huts served food and drink. Along the way, artists were putting away their paints, leaving behind some amazing pieces of art that stood in the forest until morning. We passed an outdoor cinema showing some art house movies, before coming to the bridge over the water next to (my personal highlight) some multi-coloured sheep.

The main area of the festival was beyond the forest and was where the bands were playing, where food was served and where little stalls selling everything from glittering pants to fairy wings were dotted around the field. Nighttime frivolities included drag shows, poetry, literature, live music, DJ sets, interpretive dance, cabaret and let's not forget the 40 year old woman with more energy than a firework on speed. Just to be clear, she wasn't technically an act, but enjoyable all the same. My night ended in a dance off with comedian Eric Lampaert before trying to undress another comic, Carl Donnelly. 

Awkwardly, I had no idea who these comedians were before I saw them in the comedy tent the following day. So when Carl mentioned he was performing the next morning, I said, "Cool, me and Charlotte will do the sympathy laughing at the back!" He looked at me for a moment and said, "Erm, I don't think that will be necessary..." At the time, I was too drunk to look ashamed, but my shame attack hit me full on the following morning.

After a coffee run and a shower (only joking, have you seen the showers at festivals?) we made our way to the comedy tent, where we spent most of our time. I realised as I walked into Carl's set why he had given me such a cocky answer the night before: the room was packed, and while he discussed a time where he shit his pants and nearly choked on a crumpet (not at the same time) the tent was filled with laughter and applause, which seemed to be a theme for the talented comics performing at Latitude. 

The arenas and spaces outside the stages were packed as the likes of Everything Everything, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Daughter performed their little hearts out as everyone drunkenly sang along to the hits they knew, and just danced like crazy to the songs they didn't. All in all, the atmosphere at Latitude was, for want of a better word, happy. Everyone was enjoying themselves without ruining anyone else's fun, everyone was friendly, and I have never laughed so hard in such a short space of time. If only that "festival feeling" lasted, I write bitterly as I sit in my office at 7:30am. Honestly, I am really missing Latitude. Apart from the whole tent thing.

Size does matter, after all. Sorry boys.

The Question

After news broke that scientists found evidence that a man's penis size has a direct correlation to his attractiveness, the male population all cried in unison, "I knew it!"

It has been long suspected by men everywhere that size definitely matters, and there was some evidence to back that up. Cast your minds back to Sex and the City, in the episode where Samantha finds the man she's fallen for has a penis the size of a lipstick. They try everything from rigorous foreplay, sex toys and finally resort to couple's therapy when Samantha blurts out to her therapist, "his penis is too small." James responds angrily to Samanatha, "Have you ever thought that your vagina is too big?!"

But, Sex and the City aside - has man's worst fear finally been confirmed?

The Sciencey Bit

In the journal Proceedings of the National Acadamy of Sciences, lead author Brian Mautz found that it was scientific fact that attractiveness is linked to penis size. In a study conducted with women in Australia, Aussie men with a bigger didgeridoo were found to be more attractive.

Mautz explains: “As you increase penis size, the amount of attractiveness scores gets bigger” in a linear fashion, until 7.6 centimeters, or 3 inches. After three inches, attractiveness still increased, but in smaller increments.

Not only were the ratings higher, but the women also spent more time gazing at the generously endowed figures, a sign they preferred looking at them as opposed to figures with smaller penises. Other findings from the study was that women with a higher Body Mass Index were more likely to rate a larger penis higher, and tall men with small penises were rated lower than short men with a penis of the same size. And why? Apparently, this is all to do with proportions. A larger woman, which does not affect vaginal width, would prefer a man with a larger penis as it would be "proportionate" in the act of sex. Similarly, a tall man with a large penis is deemed to be more attractive because of the proportion to his body, as opposed to the actual size of the penis.

The Debate

But back to the point: does size really matter? Science says yes, and popular culture would agree but I believe this is an area which deserves a dedicated person (with a little too much time on her hands) to explore openly, willingly, and with a little help from the rest of the female population. That's me by the way.

Of all the women I asked "Does size matter?" no one could give me a straight answer.

One perfectly succinct answer was as follows:

"Hmm, an interesting question. So, it really depends... I mean no one wants to have to search for it, but I think girth is more important than length. But, if you don't know how to use the tools then - Ain't nobody got time for that!"

And this statement largely summed up how women feel about penis size. However, there was of course one (there always is) that said "I need a big cock to turn me on. How can I get aroused when I reach down for the gear-stick and there's a cigarette lighter in my hand?"

Primary Evidence

One particular man I dated - how do I put this delicately? Had the biggest thing I've ever seen. All the girls talked about it. One of my friends touched it while we were dating (sufficed to say we're not friends anymore). All the guys talked about it. When he grabbed breakfast in just his boxer shorts, silence descended in the kitchen. Everyone paused from their breakfasts and looked up from their newspapers. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that his penis was famous.

All around campus, gossip girls would whisper, "I've never seen it, but I've heard it's a monster." And you knew exactly who they were talking about.

Unfortunately for this renowned cock, there was an incompetent man attached to the end of it.

Conclusion

My experience, size doesn't matter one bit. If you read any of my previous articles, you will know that there are several factors that affect the average sexual experience including love, alcohol, etc. A man in bed who has stamina, a good idea of where to find the clitoris, a penchant for foreplay, a basic regard for human hygiene,  and enough condoms to go all night - now that's what a woman really wants.

And one final thing...

It's no secret that men are competitive. Let's be honest, I've never met a man who could admit to me that not a single decision in his day is made by his appendage. Let's start a war with this list of country's average penis size! (Descending, puns also descending.)

Republic of Congo, 7.1
Congo, don't go.

Ecuador, 7
It's fine if you're an Ecuawhore.

Ghana, 6.8
Ghana get me some of that.

Colombia 6.7
Colombian tug lord.

Iceland 6.5
When it's ice cold? Impressive.

Italy 6.2
That's how you pack salami.

South Africa 6
Let's fly South for the winter.

Sweden 5.9
No wonder there's Eden in Sweden.

Greece 5.8
Olive a Greek sex god.

Germany 5.7
Zis is how ve do it do it.

New Zealand 5.5
Haka up.

United Kingdom 5.5
Do it for your country.

Canada 5.5
Skin a bear and get me there.

Spain 5.5
No Spain, no gain.

France 5.3
I'd try that baguette.

Australia 5.2
Mind that didgeridoo.

Russia 5.2
From Russia with love.

USA 5.1
The land of opportunity.

Ireland 5
Luck is with the Irish.

Romania 5
Don't give me mania.

China 4.3
No wonder they're whiners.

India 4
Curry on without me.

Thailand 4
Hesheshehe, why land.

South Korea 3.8
Shoulda gone to Specsavers.

North Korea 3.8
No seriously I can't see it, I need to go to Specsavers.

Latitude Festival: A Preview

Everywhere you look, the wellies are discounted, the tents are 2 for 1, and hair and make-up accessories are looking a product of Madonna and David Bowie’s illegitimate love child. What does this all mean? Festival season is upon us.

The official kick-off to festival season is Glastonbury which begins this weekend. Attended by celebrities of the highest caliber and with attendees wearing only one brand of wellington (Hunters, dahling), accompanied by a certain farmer jacket, Glasto is "the posh one" and the one that everyone who is anyone wants to go to. Over the years, however, more and more festivals have cropped up at this time of year to cater to the different tastes and locations of people that want to have a dirty weekend in the country. Not that kind of dirty.

While we can reference Reading, V Fest, T in the Park and Wireless to name a few, there is one festival that sort of stands out. And that festival is Latitude.

It markets itself as "more than just a music festival" and it is not wrong. 

If you had to write a list of the best bands, comedians, DJs, speakers, films, art, fashion, food (the list goes on), the chances are it would look a lot like the line-up for Latitude. With 23 sub sections, the line up for this four day festival reads more like an excessively extravagant wish list than a real festival line up. Sure there are some acts that you won't have heard of, but that's the magic of a festival like Latitude; you go in with an open mind and come away with a host of new songs to download, podcasts to listen to and a wacky painting of a toilet to hang on your wall. Err, so perhaps that last beer wasn’t such a good idea before purchasing art you intend to display in public.

Latitude is the festival that has something for everyone, but of course this means that not everything can appeal to every attendee. I myself, for example, will be avoiding Germaine Greer like the plague, because, quite frankly, she terrifies me. I fear she may be able to smell my hopes of getting married and having children and lecture me to death. I will, however, be rushing to see Russel Kane who I happen to have a teensy crush on (guyliner does it for me, what can I say) and seeing lesser known bands like Swim Deep sing their sweet little hearts out while I munch on one of the many culinary delights sold at the four day wonder-fest. My only concern for this festival of festivals, is that, with so much ground to cover, I won't have the time to do everything. But then again, there's always next year.

I expect to come away from Latitude with my belly hurting from raucous laughter, my feet hurting from my wild dancing and my head hurting from what is likely to be an accumulative hangover. Looking at that vibrant toilet picture certainly won’t help. With such a smorgasbord of activity, what I am most looking forward to at Latitude festival, is the unexpected.

Seven Classes of Relationship

We all heard the news that sent most of South West England into an identity crisis, the severity of which hasn't been seen since the Liberal Democrats were actually voted into government. The latest potentially crushing news for the British population is that rather than having 3 classes, Upper, Middle and Working, we now have 7 classes that every member of our great country can be pigeon-holed into. After a sudden burst of suicides from members of the former Middle Class that were demoted to Emerging Working Class, we were all left questioning - where does that leave me?

Somewhere between reading about Class 3 (You'll Be Paying Your Mortgage Until You Die) and Class 6 (No More Benefits For You Sucker) I got to thinking. If class brackets have been stratified to fit in every member of society, should relationship brackets not be similarly stratified? It's not as simple as the days of Bridget Jones where one was either a Smug Married or a Singleton. Instead, our relationship status could be anything from "seeing someone" to "in a relationship in London, in another relationship in Bristol" or even "Lesbian on Sundays". Considering the approach that we have towards relationships in this day and age, I thought it only appropriate to suggest up to date relationship "classes" that encompass society as we know it. Which class are you in?

1. Elite Relationship

You go to bed at night and wake up every morning next to the same person, and this makes you feel fulfilled. You have much in common with your other half, but not too much. You are utterly devoted to each other without being obsessed with each other, and when they give you that look, you get butterflies in your stomach.

Common Fears: Death. It's the only thing that could ever affect your relationship.

Associates With: Other couples.

Hobbies: Going to the opera together, going to champagne bars together, together, together...

2. Comfortable Relationship

It's not what you dreamed of when you were 12 years old, but it ain't half bad. When he doesn't fart in front of you, it's kind of perfect.

Common Fears: Wondering you're missing out if the grass is greener elsewhere... And that your partner is thinking the same thing.

Associates With: Each other.

Hobbies: Cooking together, watching movies together, waxing each other.

3. Dubious Relationship

Most commonly referred to as "seeing each other" the relationship line is completely blurred when it comes to you two. Are you, aren't you? Who the hell cares, you love the way they smell.

Common Fears: Falling in love.

Associates With: Large groups, rarely seen alone in public.

Hobbies: Going to parties, going to the pub, spending a lot of time in bed - not sleeping.

4. Lily Pad Relationship

It's not a phrase one yet hears in common conversation, but you will. "Boyfriend? no, I'm just lily padding at the moment." One who 'lily pads' jumps from relationship to relationship with little to no gap in between. When one lily pad seems a little boring - have no fear, the next one is already lined up ready and waiting for you to jump.

Common Fears: Running out of lily pads.

Associates With: Friends of the opposite sex.

Hobbies: Dinners, drinks and social events with opportunities to meet new people.

5. Single on Weekends

By day, you are a devoted and caring partner. You respond to messages, you make little jokes, you even go out your way to make the odd phone call, just to show you care. By night, you are little minx, indulging in heavy petting on dance floors and drunken trysts in bathrooms with people that are definitely not your partner. It's dirty, it's shameful - and you love every minute of it.

Common Fears: Getting caught.

Associates With: Friends who are a bad influence.

Hobbies: [Weekdays] Going to the gym, watching Homeland, cooking. [Weekends] Going clubbing, doing body shots off sexy strangers, getting handsy.

6. Single

You don't need anyone else to make you feel good. You go out, you have fun, you work hard and you feel totally satisfied. You'd be happy to meet someone, but only if they're good enough for you. Sure, you're a little insecure about it, and yes, Sundays can be hard without someone to snuggle up to and read the papers with. But at least you don't have someone on your back talking about the value of "listening".

Common Fears: Dying alone, STIs.

Associates With: Friends.

Hobbies: Hosting movie nights, going out with friends and loitering around crowded bars.

7. Dumped

You are technically single, but you are nowhere near the point where you can begin to feel good about it. You were thrown out in the gutter, not literally but figuratively at least. Your heart hurts from the heartbreak, your head hurts from the drinking, and your stomach hurts from the ice cream. 

Common Fears: Showering, sobriety, bumping into your ex when you look like shit. 

Associates With: Ben and Jerry.

Hobbies: Listening to Coldplay whilst crying, burning photos of your ex, sleeping.

Relationship Status: In a Smug Relationship

Spring has sprung, apparently, though wading through the snow last week, I would have never believed it. It's that time of year where birds start a-chirping, lambs start a-birthing and everybody generally gets a little  more a-horny. It's no surprise, therefore, that almost everyone I know is in a relationship.Christmas when you're single can be painful, but at least you can drink through it without much judgement. No such amnesty in April, which perhaps explains this strange yearly phenomenon.

Now, tell me again how to find my clitoris?

It would be bearable, albeit irritating, if we lived in 1922 where couples kissing were seen only in the privacy of people's homes. But we don't. As if it's not bad enough seeing couples necking each other on a park bench, we now have to see it on an escalator, in a bar, on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram etc. Bridget Jones was the first to note the debilitating effects that couples can have on the world in her description of 'Smug Marrieds', and not much has changed in terms of the nauseating effects that couples can have. Look couples, it's perfectly fine to be in a relationship, but do you have to be so smug about it?

Smug alert #1
The internet knows you are in a relationship.

Like the weak friend of an alcoholic, the internet is an enabler - of smugness. Just because you now have a boyfriend, you feel the need to "check in" to every single place you go. Oh, how lovely, you went out for afternoon tea! And then to the park?! What a delightful relationship you are in. Gosh, I almost missed that - an entire album on Facebook dedicated to you pulling funny faces in front of your webcam! You cats are crazy!

Elvis Presley has checked in at the Heartbreak Hotel.
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There is something to be said for the fact that if you spend your entire relationship updating the internet on your whereabouts/matching outfits/nutrition, you must not have a whole lot of time left over for the real stuff. But on the other hand, you guys have done a good job in making everyone else feel depressed at how much fun you're having. We can all scorn it, but making funny faces in front of your webcam can be pretty sad when you're on your own.

Smug alert #2
The internet knows the annual income of your boyfriend.

Hey, look at me with my Chanel bag, it's from my boyfriend. Hey, look at me on my boyfriend's private jet. Hey, look at me in my new car, it's from my boyfriend. Hey, look at me instagramming the wreckage of my new car, my boyfriend was totally cool about it and bought me another one. Hey, look at me in this exclusive club with my boyfriend, drinking from a £100 bottle of vodka the size of his penis. Look at me. Look at me. LOOK AT ME!!!

The epitome of "look at me"

It doesn't just reek of desperation, it screams insecurity and despite quality of the wonderful items that are being flaunted, we can't help but feel sorry for the ladies in question. And yes, just the teensiest bit jealous.

Smug alert #3
No one remembers your boyfriend's real name.

We all have nicknames. Some are ones we've been stuck with since school when kids managed to rhyme your name with a bodily function or male genitalia. Either way, I don't know anyone that really likes their nickname - but why do people in relationships insist on it? Couples have nicknames for each other that makes the innocent bystander produce bile against their will. Pukkum Pie? Moomoo? And worst of all - Sausage. For a reason unbeknownst to me, Sausage is a very popular pet name for couples in the Western world. Never mind the fact that it rolls of the tongue, it's the food that looks most like a penis.

Perhaps nicknames are a way for serial monogamists to never get the name of their partner wrong, or perhaps there's something about the cute factor of a sausage that I just don't get. Regardless of the reason for it, will the offenders please just stop it. STOP IT, ya hear?

I suppose everyone has the right to be smug in their respective relationships, because everyone deserves to be happy and to get that moment where they think, "I am so lucky I found him/her." But then the rest of us have a right to mock vomit in a waste paper basket at everyone else's happiness.

Alright, I'm bitter, now bugger off.

Things to Never Try in Bed

On Valentine's day, my father shared an anecdote with me. He was in the queue for the pharmacy, and there was a rather twitchy 60 year old man purchasing condoms. The silver speckled gentleman picked up four different packets: Ribbed, Flavoured, (at which point mother quipped, "what on earth do you need flavoured ones for?") Feather Lite and the ever intimidating Variety Pack. The interesting factor in all this, was that the nervous shopper had a look of severe dread on his face and was sweating profusely. It was then that my father noticed the other items: a spatchela, a feathery cat toy and a whisk.

The man mopped his brow before he paid a staggering £50 for his array of culinary items and enough condoms to supply a student at fresher's week. Then, apparently seeing a kindred spirit in my father, gave him a significant look before saying, "fifty shades, eh?".

Valentine's day is so much more than an over-invested marketing scheme to get the public to increase the debts they haven't paid off from Christmas in order to buy all things red. It is a danger to all humanity as the bedroom is no longer a place of sanctuary. It becomes a terrible torture room where your partner demands to "try new things", often involving some heavy S&M and the omission of a safe-word.

It wouldn't be alright, but it would be OK if this odd and potentially life threatening behaviour was limited to one day. But it's not. Due to the freedom of sexual expression, and in part Christian Grey, we can all be subjected to terrible sexual experiences when we least expect it. Now, I like to think of myself as a bit of a revolutionary changer-of-the-world, no biggie. So, the very least I can do is to discourage those of you reading this article who want to try things you saw in a Cuban porno set in a little bay called Guantanamo. Here we are then, things never to try in bed:

Baby Talk

I don't have testicles, so I can't really answer this, so I put it to you, gentlemen: Is there anything more ball shriveling than a girl putting on a high pitched voice and saying, "I want to lick your penie wenie until you cummy wummy on my tummy"? I didn't think so. (OK, apart from what they did with the corkscrew in the Cuban porno.)

I think you'll all agree with me when I say, it's a penis, not a puppy, so don't treat it like one.

Shoe Horns

If you're going to get down and dirty with a sex toy, please let it be created for that purpose. There is no shame in admitting that you have four rabbits (rampant ones, not real ones - although I did have a confusion with a colleague about this the other week. To be honest, I'm still not sure what she was talking about) but there is shame in keeping a shoe horn/cork/bag of carrots next to your bed. 

Penis Names

Little Chris, Conan The Destroyer, Rob the Ruiner, Theo Walcott (cos when he shoots, he scores!) are all ridiculous names for an appendage. In fact, all names for an appendage are ridiculous because, contrary to popular belief, a penis is not a separate entity from a male's body, though it does have a mind of it's own. The only acceptable name would be Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, because at least you can have a laugh reminiscing about Friends before your girlfriend kicks you out and says she never wants to see you again.

Honesty

"That was the most average sexual experience of my life. Can you please cuddle me for fifteen minutes until I start snoring? Then you can let yourself out before my nightly flatulence begins."

"I'm so glad you're a real woman. For a moment I was like is she? Isn't she? And then I was like whoa. But it's cool, you totally have a vagina."

If these statements are anything to go by, and have no doubt gone through someone's mind at some point or another, it's best to keep stum in bed. Mum's the word, eh? Which leads me on to...

Family

Your parents, siblings and pets have no place in the bedroom. Saying, "I think my sister has that bra," is a sure fire way to stop whatever steaminess was hotting up between the sheets. Similarly, no matter how many guys say Daddy Issues are a turn on, just don't say the 'D' word mid, pre or post coitus. Even if you're being 'ironic' because your a hipster (yeah, we know how you all looove that).

Food

Have you ever thought, wow, this sex is so hot, you could fry and egg on it? Of course not, but unfortunately someone has. The egg did not fry, but dried to give both parties a shiny glow. Short term - healthy skin. Long term - you're the couple that thought you were a frying pan.

The thing is, it always seems like such a good idea at the time. The thought of licking chocolate off, well, anything is a largely pleasant thought. What could go wrong with chocolate ice cream? It can smudge on your white sheets leading anyone who sees your bed to believe you have a serious bowel problem. Nice.

Crying

In sex, there is nothing they don't do. Not me personally, you understand, just people in general on the internet and stuff. I'm horrified to say that all of the above things I have suggested never to try, have a dedicated fan base based in America, and a hoard of dirty videos that you have to enter card details to watch. Baked beans, dressing as babies, and all manner of bodily fluids are exchanged between two (or often more) people on the internet, though there is one exception to the rule.

Tears.

A woman getting all emotional as the tip goes in  ruins the mood faster than you can say "hard on". Ladies, if you're feeling emotional, excuse yourself for a moment before going through with the deed. I can't imagine anything more soul crushing than someone else's tears on your penis.

Unfortunately for us, and by us I mean the (cough) sexually active population, we are all going to have a bad experience in bed - there is no escape. And, this list is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to things to never try in bed. I'm sure each one of you reading this has your own addition, and I'm equally sure that on this long and winding road that is sexual discovery, we all have a lot more to learn about what we never ever want to try in bed. Enjoy!

Why Shopping Hates You

If I have one weakness, other than kryptonite, chubby nerds and tequila, it is shopping. Along with numerous "deal" mailers, I am subscribed to over 20 different shops that email me up to three times a day. Along with requests to choose a Chinese bride ("before it's too late!" most likely due to human rights violation) my Hotmail is often inundated with emails filled to the brim with juicy discounts on popular brands, updates on what Kate wore yesterday, and upcoming trends from unafforable designers. Trends, by the way, that are often so extravagant that I only stare at my screen in wonder before shuddering as I imagine myself in leather trousers, platformed trainers and an Aztec jumper.

These emails often lead to hours trawling online, filling up "imaginary" shopping baskets that I never dare to enter my credit card details into. Despite this, I thoroughly enjoy trawling through my emails, as though in some way I am gaining something by knowing that Jennifer Garner's Golden Globes dress was "too young".

So satisfying, so dangerous.
A bit like heroin. I mean, not exactly like heroin, but a bit.
No?

Now, don't think me shallow. While I will admit that I find glee in online browsing, online shopping and updating myself on what others are wearing that have absolutely no bearing on my life whatsoever, I am aware that I am totally lame. And that makes it OK.

Shopping in the real world, i.e. in the actual shops as opposed to cyberspace, can be daunting, if not overwhelming. I try to limit myself to twice a month, as since cash is a rarely seen commodity, I use my card as if money doesn't exist and it's just a bunch of numbers. (Don't try to tell me otherwise, accountants.)

Jeans shopping is the most hateful kind of shopping. In my trauma of trying on one pair, I bought three so I would never have to come back. However, one can also find glee where one doesn't expect it. I bought a skirt which I tried on without looking at the size, only to find that it is a size smaller than my regular size at Topshop. Ah, thinking about it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But, this is rare, and so why do we put ourselves through the trauma of hopping up and down in a smelly dressing room telling ourselves "Once I've lost weight/done my hair/can afford a leather jacket - this will look great,"?

Purchase Regret is a common symptom of shopping, and one that all shoppers suffer at one stage or another. A yellow scrunchie? What were you thinking!? And food shopping is no different. Dreaming that you are the next Heston Blumenthal does not make you the next Heston Blumenthal. Buying 8 picture frames to serve pickled foam on is never a good idea, woe betide the person that buys Sea Sounds: A Compilation to accompany them.

Shopping, whether it be online or in store, has an unequivocal hatred for all consumers. It wants them to buy, regardless if they get a crippling self-loathing whenever they see items, untouched, at the bottom of their wardrobe. Tags still on, of course.

The moral of these ever familiar tales? Join a convent, shop only using hard cash or work on that pearly white smile to accompany the smooth lie, "I'm sorry, but it doesn't quite fit.".

Movember? Do go on...

When did beards become cool?

I am loathe to admit that whenever I see a man with a mo, I get slightly weak at the knees (Movember was a good month for me.) But do you remember the days where men that took serious time on their facial hair looked like this?:

The pained precision that went into looking like a complete and utter tool was baffling. So baffling that it has been immortalised forever in the form of Sacha Baron Cohen's Ali G. Hot.

Just slightly off tangent, did you know that Staines officially changed its name to Staines-upon-Thames? Apparently the connotations with the river is equal to less connotations with tracksuit sporting, Corsa driving lads.

Anyway, nowadays, it seems wherever I look, stubble, taches and other facial hair are making a huge comeback. Have you seen that Gillette advert? The one with Andre 3000? If you have - you can take that wistful look off your face now. Precision grooming has fast become the big thing for men around the world. On a recent trip to Scandinavia, for example, it was rare to see a man with no facial hair whatsoever, though perhaps this is simply a necessity, it being so fucking cold.

Let's take a moment now to think of the men around the world who, alas, cannot grow facial hair. Hard to believe but no matter how hard they try, a feeble line of fluff is all that they can manage. I imagine it is rather like having a pen that doesn't work: you have the tools, but something, somewhere has gone wrong.

A delightful trio.

At a time where beards are the height of cool, men who cannot grow them must focus their efforts elsewhere, on, for example, body fitness, dressing well, or volunteer work. Because apparently these days, if you don't have an artful crop of groomed hair on that gorgeous face of yours, you have to have something to set you apart from the rest.