What a Pratt!


So as I have said I have been dabbling with internet dating and oh boy is that ever proving entertaining.

Let me introduce you to this guy:


Now for those of you up on your celebrity spotting and love those stories of celebs selfie’s getting sent out to the big wide world you will know (like I did) that this is Chris Pratt of Guardians of the Galaxy fame (and the Lego movie just in case you live under a rock).  However, for the purposes of this blog post his name is Dave.  A further example of why I think most Dave’s are total dumbness…

Now this guy has been messaging me a lot, sent a variety of hastily googled images of six packs with erect cocks attached (I mean actual erect cocks although I understand it can work for the person too) and all the while giving me some spiel about being a personal trainer, running spin classes, yoga pants and stating ‘I don’t look like this picture much anymore I don’t have the beard.’ – Yeah I am sure that’s the only difference.

Now I understand that I might be doing a bit of false advertising with the application of a rather nifty instagram filter on my photos and I might dial down the sarcasm for the first few interactions but I don’t get faking on this scale.  Deluded, socially unaware faking that not only makes you look desperate but also a little intellectually challenged.  I finally got to the point where I said ‘why the Chris Pratt photo?’ and he said…wait for it. ‘People keep telling me that’s a picture of Chris Pratt.’ – I wonder why…?!

Now this might sound harsh and…well I don’t care if it does but there are guys out there that the women they want to attract are going to completely ignore.  They are too short, too fat, too still living with their mothers…whatever it is they are aiming too high and they know it, they probably get told it and some (yes not all) have taken to the fake profile.  I have encountered this before and it’s not big, it’s not clever and it gets very boring very quickly.  I mean so far in the last few months I have been messaged by Benedict Cuminmypants, Henry Cavill and Chris Pratt.  Throw in Vin Diesel, Chris Hemsworth and Jack Black and I would be a very happy if not big-headed lady.

How fulfilling and satisfying can faking to get a few photos from someone be?  Am I getting old? Maybe I am because I am at the point where it’s a case of take me as you find me (ok ok with added instagram filter) and if you want a fake Megan Fox or Christina Hendricks then keep looking.  I might have to find out if there are women pretending to be celebrities too because so far I have only encountered men doing it and if there are I will judge them too.  Just be yourself it saves the need to find pictures off google that look similar enough that no one will notice that they are different people, the need for a good memory and the harsh judgement that comes from people discovering what a loser or in this case Pratt you are.

HDJ xxx

Unlucky for Some…


13 plate2

I once upon a time said I was never going to alter or remove numbers from The List.  I meant it when I said it.  I really did because I never thought for a moment that I would encounter such a fine specimen of bottom-dwelling pond scum that I would have to make such a drastic change.

Now those of you familiar with The List and the earlier dating adventures (link to the book for those of you who aren’t) will understand that when I got to the point where 12 was boring me and it became obvious that I needed a little more entertainment that the prospect of an unlucky 13 led me and my good friend Tim to discuss the idea of substituting the number 13 for a 12a.  And those of you who continued to read on after that learned that 12a was the next guy I entered into a relationship with and well…what a fucking huge mistake that was!

It’s become increasingly obvious that 12a was not a substitute for an unlucky number but a type of attempt at polishing a turd.  So let’s strip him of the concept that he deserved better than a letter and a number and call a spade a spade.  Hence forth 12a is unlucky number 13 and removed permanently from the list (but unfortunately not from the face of history).

Oh and I mean unlucky for him…just to clear that up.

I could go into detail about what he did to deserve this change.  I could explain the ins and outs of what has finally drawn a line under this chapter of both our lives with me the obvious winner but I fear that would give his existence far too much importance.

This is the last time you are going to be mentioned cupcake.

Moving on…

HDJ xxx

Delusions of Man-deur


If you're God's Gift to women.....

It’s been a while since a blog so I thought I would catch you up on something I am experiencing a lot of at the moment and something that has to stop!  When I mean stop I mean seriously cease because this shit started out old and has just begun to decompose and smell. Ever had a mouse die under the floorboards and you can’t get to it, so you have to just deal until it rots away completely?  Well it kinda smells like that.  What am I talking about?  Delusions of mandeur.  I don’t mean the little boys that think that because they can spell ‘pussy’ and have seen a few lady parts sticking out of the bottom of what some girls call shorts these days, makes them a fully grown sex God.  I mean the men that are old enough, ugly enough and single-for-a-very-good-reason enough to know better. Where is it written, as I must have missed this, that women have jump through hoops like some cross breed show horse and prize poodle to land herself a guy? Thou shall demean and lower thyself for a man not worth thy effort. Seriously? I am not well versed on my religious works of fiction so if that one is in there let me know. 514_400x400_NoPeel So I have been chatting to a few guys, admittedly not for long because my interactions with them always go the same way and if I am honest it is starting to bore the ample bosom off me. Here is how it plays out. I am sent a lame ‘hi, please notice me’ message.  I reply because this one looks like he might have two braincells to rub together (meaning he didn’t send ‘hey hru wuu2?’) and that he might actually come from a non-localised gene pool. My response is generally very sarcastic (can you imagine?). They ask to kik or Whatsapp because ‘it’s easier’ (not buying that one). They chat some more then comes the ‘send me a picture’ message. I lose interest instantly. The end. I attached a picture from the guy of yesterday. After chatting for a while he said he had been working out a lot and he was sending me a picture of his progress so far.  My exact response was ‘meh’. See image below. IMG_3084.PNG Now lets explore this shall we… I had already indicated I had little interest in seeing him headless without a shirt so the request for a photo from me was beyond dumb.  Why on Earth would this guy think after ‘meh’ as a response the promise of a photo of him shirtless would be so tempting and so devastating to be taken away that I would disrobe and start going all Kim Kardashian selfie happy? Notice after no responses the photo arrived and let’s just say if you are going to demand a photo from me you better be looking like this (see below) when the photo comes through. ryan-reynolds-toned-body Now I am not saying that DCM’s hard work in the gym is not paying off and if he sticks at it he might give Mr Reynolds a run for his money but after the build up that got… Meh didn’t cover it. And it made me wonder, as I do so often, what is going on?!  I mean this is not an isolated event.  I could put screenshots a plenty on here of requests for photos, messages about how many other girls he could be chatting to but he picked me from the throng of eager to please females that will do tricks for a bit of attention.  Where do these guys get off acting like this? I am quite happy to tell them that a) they aren’ t interesting and/or attractive enough to warrant my attention let alone a ‘try-hard’ performance from me and b) I am happy for them to go back to the throng of attention hungry women that they wrongly thought that they could add me to.  As you can see from the picture above (not Reynolds, quit staring at those abs) just ceasing contact seems to confuse the poor animal because he was back again tonight as though nothing had happened. And you know why they do it?  Because out there somewhere is the woman that would send that photo he asked for.  And another one and another one and probably a video of her in the bath with strategically placed bubbles.  I am not saying I have never sent photo messages. I would be a bare faced liar.  Call me old fashioned but I have the following opinions on the matter:

  1. When you see someone naked for the first time you should be in a position to use their equipment not try to get yourself off with your phone in one hand trying to get someone else off at the same time.
  2. That asking someone for a naked picture of them after chatting for less than 30 minutes indicates that you were not taught very good manners.
  3. What the fuck happened to actually dating??
  4. This is the age of the internet, if you are horny watch some porn…it’s literally everywhere on the internet and you don’t even have to pay for it these days.
  5. It’s not text sex, you are just jerking off into a sock like you would be without thinking that someone on the other end is turned on by what you are saying.  I have on many occasions just gone along with someone when they were doing this shit because it was easier (and more amusing) than pointing out I was fully dressed, dry as a bone and actually falling asleep.
  6. If you are that hot, that in demand and that ripped why the fuck are you texting some random to get your jollies, go out and meet a real girl and get yo’ self some boi.

People treat you the way that you allow them to.  And from what I am seeing a lot of men have been allowed to put in zero effort and have women galore sending them all sorts of pictures, stories, videos etc for the sole prize of the guy’s attention. It makes me a little sad that in this day and age (geez I sound like my gran) women that are changing the shape of the world we live in still feel they have to lower themselves, become walking talking fantasies and try so hard for some pudgy fuck using a fake photo on the internet to get his rocks off. That self-confidence and self-respect aren’t the widespread norm and that for some reason too many women would rather contort into some freaky shape to take a selfie with limited rolls than tell some guy to go jerk off to the pictures he found on google images that he is trying to pass off as his own cock.  I mean, has it never occurred to anyone but me, that if every woman told these guys to fuck off they might learn to make a little more effort? Because if you don’t respect yourself no one will. And let’s face it, there is nothing sexier than a confident woman, who doesn’t give a crap what any guy thinks of her because she doesn’t need him to be worthwhile.

HDJ xxx



If you read a blog I did a few days ago you will notice I called the hybrid language of bloke/girl Shimanese and its something that I have been seeing a lot of lately so I thought I would better do a blog about it. :)


A long time ago, in a far away land there was a magician.  He knew what many had forgotten, that men came from Mars and Women came from Venus.  That we spoke two completely different languages and that we were constantly misunderstanding each other.  He wrote a book about it that almost every woman I know has read.  I am yet to meet a man who has bothered. And so the miscommunication continued and they all lived happily, and mildly confused, ever after.

You see there is this idea that we need some sort of manual to understand each other.  That every word that drops from a woman’s mouth is just dripping with emotional connotation and that men are just saying things because verbal communication was required and otherwise he would be in his cave sharpening sticks against the walls.  It’s total bullshit.  Wait! Before I get a load of John Gray groupies telling me he changed their lives, I am not saying we don’t often misunderstand each other I think we just forget, that like with other languages some people have a better knack of picking up what they have learned than others.

Now I am a woman, you can tell this from my picture, however I have often been told I have the mind of a man, the morals of a man and the ability to switch between male and female logic so quickly it made someone vomit once. I have the ability to state things in a logical, non-emotional fashion and I can say things like ‘fine’ or ‘ok’ using the word in its most basic form, meaning it has no hidden depth it simply is ‘ok’ or ‘fine’.  I can however also be a diva of epic proportions when and if the mood strikes me, the bonus of having a wide vocabulary, active imagination and English degree does help.

I can speak to men on their level, I can empathise like a bastard with women and I can sit somewhere in the middle quite happily not considering it any type of super power or awesome feat on my behalf.  That is until I run into someone who speaks very bad Shimanese.  Very very bad.

The guy who replies to his reply of his previous reply because you didn’t reply.  Think that is an excessive amount of replies? Yeah, me too.



The ones who hear ‘I am not interested’ as ‘chase me, chase me I am just playing hard to get and will give in eventually.’  The ones who think I died because I didn’t reply to a message after 20 minutes.  The ones who hear ‘I am not looking for anything serious’ as ‘Aha tricked ya, I want to be married by the end of the year…Yes I know it’s August already.’  It’s like the weirdest language barrier ever.  If you wandered up to a French person in Paris and said ‘je voudrais un gâteau’ they would know that despite not being French you wanted cake because you said you wanted cake. They wouldn’t point you towards an Indian restaurant thinking that is what you really meant.

Look just because you can speak a little Venusian and maybe even if you were a member of the two sets of lips club that is what you would mean if you said that, it does not mean that the Venusian stood in front of you is not talking to you in fluent Martian.


HDJ xxx

Ifs and Butts




It’s amazing sometimes how life goes through periods of themes and, this is my life after all, the most recent of these themes has been the good old fashioned subject of butt lovin’.

Yes, you guessed it this a post about anal, kinda explains the picture now doesn’t it?

Anyway like I said this has been a theme over the last few weeks and it always intrigues me how people are going to react to this subject being brought up.  It’s a really good yard stick to measure guys against because their reaction can tell you a lot about them, what they have experienced in the past and what exactly they are hoping is waiting in the wings as a coming attraction.  For example, you know the guy who says that he has no interest in anal sex and pulls that face (without being a bonafide card-carrying germophobe) has simply never been given the opportunity or has simply dated women so anally retentive they shit out of their pores.  You know it’s been so off limits he hasn’t even let himself wonder too much.

Then there are my favourite type.  The “I tried in and it and I didn’t see big deal’ type.  You know that sooner or later the ‘whoops I slipped’ comment is coming your way because it might not have been a big deal then but it has to be worth another go to see what they missed out on.  Plus, since you mentioned it you put that little idea back in that head and it’s got nothing to do but stagnate. You know the second they get chance to take a trip around your old chocolate whizz-way they are really going to go for it.  I have dated a couple of these guys in the past and weirdly it went from being ‘no big deal’ to something that came up in conversation and was attempted numerous times without prior discussion.

There is also the type that believe anal is part of every sexual encounter, state that every woman they have been with loved it and begged them for it and that they can teach you a thing or two about it.  Now these (I am generalising, deal with it) anal sex virgins obsessed with porn.

Now I had always decided that there was no need to use the back door since there was a perfectly good cat flap on the front, and I had tried anal a couple of times with varying degrees of success and interest.  Note: If you aren’t into it enough to actively participate that much don’t bother.  And I had all but decided that it was a lost cause, it was going on the HDJ Room 101 List and then I had one of those sessions…


You know the ones I mean where for some reason whether it be with someone new or someone you have fucked a million times, the stars align, the angels weep and the earth moves slightly more than normal which means that you get somewhat carried away and try that position you read about, or do something really out of character or that simply never interested you before.  The adrenaline is pumping, the endorphins have taken your common sense hostage and you just go with it.  Well I went with it and like all good highs there has to be the moment where you start to come down and despite being able to say it wasn’t horrible, painful or as world altering as I thought it might be I am still not a convert.  I think I always liked the taboo more than the act itself…

Butt, it doesn’t stop there.  Despite having conversations with a few guys this week about this subject the award winner for best conversation about this has to be ODP.  As usual a font of fucked up, eye-opening (sometimes eye-watering) and useful information.  An interesting link sent to my phone that lead me to some porn I probably would have never watched (it was in the spirit of research) and a mild wondering about whether or not this whole anal thing is really all about us women taking a pernus up the pooper at all.  A bit of salad tossing, a finger, maybe two…How much of a leap is it to full on strap-on welcome mode?

So now I can tick something off the list of things I have tried, added something else and might even need to get myself a new sex toy for my goodie-drawer…

HDJ xxx

Blow Job


I have to admit that there is something that really bugs me.  Ok, maybe it doesn’t bug me enough to occasionally not do this myself (and I think the fact I can be honest about that is good) and that is blowing someone off.  No, it’s not like sucking someone off which is a whole hell of a lot of fun and something I do as regularly as the opportunity presents itself (and by that I mean I actually want to, I’m not running a service).  Blowing someone off is the art of the lamest excuse ever to not do something.  It’s the glaring indication that you don’t really care enough to come up with a good excuse or even hide the fact you didn’t try.  Blowing someone off is expected from time to time, it’s useful when you get yourself in situations that you kinda regret but at the same time it’s also fucking rude.

Now I like to think of myself as a worldly sort, I am open-minded, I am honest and I don’t want anything resembling his and hers bathrobes so it makes me wonder why, with all these facts as blatantly obvious as my rather impressive cleavage people still feel the need to completely not get me.  I mean I even used the phrase ‘I don’t want to be dealing with someone getting sand in their vagina if I decide I got a better offer.’ Could that have been anymore clear that I was not looking to settle down and have babies (granted they would have been very very attractive babies) and that I (as well as expecting him too also) was keeping my options well and truly open?  I thought I had bridged the gap and managed to speak fluent bloke and that for once I had been understood, comprehended and we were on the same page…  But I think this guy might have been speaking a hybrid of girl/bloke which I shall call Shimense and therefore assumed that my declaration of not being arsed was one of those word traps that women apparently use all the time.


Now the truth is I have other options.  I am picking up other options pretty much daily and yet I am amazed at either the self-delusion or downright conceit of some of these men that leads them to believe that even despite being so drawn to me themselves they believe that they are the only men in the universe that has had that happen to them.  Whilst on their side women everywhere flock to them because their magnetism is just so damn strong Yoda aint got nothin’ on it.  Are these guys for real?  I had already indicated that my International Woman of Mystery Tour was taking me to other parts of the country and yes, I had omitted the information that it meant some one on one time with some dangly bits and I may have omitted the fact I had plans with another dangly bits brigade member (hahah) when I got back.  Nowhere did I say I was hanging up my HDJ fun pants and sitting by the phone waiting for a phone call.  That my search for man I could settle for was over and that I was climbing out of this dating pool and towelling off with the fluffy Egyptian cotton towel of commitment.  I was carrying on as usual.  HDJ business as usual.

So the notion that I would not take kindly to plans being cancelled because of a “better offer” seems somewhat silly doesn’t it?  The idea that being honest and saying ‘I actually have the chance to mount this girl I have been wanting to fuck for a while’ would illicit any other response from me other than ‘enjoy’ seems ridiculous because when you give me the lame blow off I know that’s what you just didn’t have the balls to say anyway.  I speak bloke, I just made the mistake of thinking you did too.

HDJ xxx

Lip Sync


Well I went on my date.

I admit the idea of doing all that small talk, answering the same inane questions about family, holidays, books and movies again and nervous lulls in conversation had given me a low set of expectations for that first date. It’s been a while since I have had one and the last first date I had (technically) involved a weekend in a hotel room on the outskirts of London and my clothes mostly in a ball on the floor. Not that that wasn’t fun (obviously it was a lot of fun) it meant that an actual date date was not something I was sure how to do. Luckily, I went to meet someone that didn’t want to do any of those traditional awkward first date staples either and it was a whole hell of a lot of fun.

Now for those eagle-eyed blog readers you will know that I had a brief internet encounter with #17 before and we went our separate ways. After a bit of time spent interacting with a range of various forms of life that call the internet (and the Cotswolds) home we realised that we may well be two of the only sane/attractive/open-minded people that are left. It made sense to meet up and see what this could be, whether we would click off the internet (geddit?). I am very glad I got a second shot at #17.

So we met up, went for a walk in the Countryside, talked total bollocks to each other about a variety of topics that would probably make you believe that we need to be sectioned and almost never stopped laughing. We were pretty much at ease the entire time. Oh and did I mention he is hot?? I might have done but Oh Mother May I?!

It went well, the conversation flowed, this first date thing is a piece of cake and then it came time for that part of a first date that can make it or break it. The goodnight kiss. Now this guy is exactly a foot taller than me so I was feeling like a bit more of a midget than normal, and the logistics of trying to kiss this guy without breaking my toes or his neck was something that I had considered as being problematic. I can honestly say I don’t remember if he bent down to me or I tip-toed up to him because that was without a doubt one of the (if not the best) kisses I have ever had. The kind of kiss that leaves your knees trembling and if someone asked you your name you would just say ‘um’.

Kissing is something that I have noticed is very under-rated. It’s like the opening act that a lot of people want to skip to get to the main event but kissing is a great (and fun) way to get a little glimpse into what else is waiting for you when things move along a little. It’s a fantastic way for you to gain some insight into just whether or not it is worth sticking around for the main event and ladies and gentlemen I might not go so far as to be camping outside the box office for tickets for this main event, but I am damn eager to get to it now.

Don’t worry I will keep you informed. I always do!

HDJ xxx