My Dating Disasters
Via Sir Harold Hutton of the Cavalry, I note that ladies can now avail themselves of the services of Dontdatehimgirl.com, which allows them to alert other fair maidens to the cads and bounders in their midst.
About time too, although I am glad to note that there is no link to Flying Rodent, Mr., which is a sure sign that I have been a considerate and gentlemanly beau to my countless conquests.
All of which made me wonder whether I should use my page to alert my fellow men to any women I have courted who failed to meet my standards of civility.
I'll start with Ann, pictured, who I courted for a short while in Connecticut, US, in 2004.
As you can see, she looks comely enough, but her fair exterior hides a heart as black as night and a soul as dead as Adolf Eichmann. She ruined many a pleasant evening in the local bistros by overindulging in Chardonnay and spraying spittle upon the waitresses, while loudly castigating me as a traitor, a terrorist and a liberal fascist.
All that, and she has tits like spaniel's ears and a snatch that looks like a stamped bat breathing it's last, which came as a shock. I know us British gents aren't supposed to kiss and tell, but I think Hugh Grant neatly blew that one out of the water.