Rescue me

I’m not sure I agree that women hold all the power. Maybe for a shag but not for a relationship. I’ve got several successful, kind, attractive friends in their late thirties who have been unwillingly single for years and years.

Wish I were twenty years younger and lived in your county. I bet your friends are dying to get it together with a poor, unattractive, untall, jobless non-houseowner.

Are any of them bothering with internet dating? They sound like a catch.

I know right? I don’t understand it. They are wonderful women.

A - size 10 - is divorced 4 years; the only message she’s had on Tinder in the last month is “sorry luv I meant to swipe left.”

J - great rack - plays her cards close to her chest but is on one of the major dating sites, I believe.

R - blindingly sarcastic and funny - considers internet dating intolerably demeaning.

My pet theory is that most men assume women in their late 30s are baby-hungry and don’t want to be sperm donors.

Could I have R please?

Right…. are in fact A, J and R baby-hungry?

They are, yes. Well, not “stealing pushchairs from outside Greggs” obsessed, but they’d all love to have children.

Mmmmm….might put some blokes off.

It’s weird innit? My baby sis - 31 with two under-5s - is fighting them off with a shitty stick on Tinder. And those are real, visceral kids that potential suitors have to tolerate 24/7. But men seem really to be put off by the thought of their own POTENTIAL children with A, J and R.

The Buddhists are right. Attachment only leads to misery. Wish we could all get that through our heads. I move to Portugal would be brilliant. I’m not sure a proper bang from Karen would cure you of anything. Perhaps temporarily.

And it brings immense pleasure and joy too. Buddhism is about the polar opposite of what I feel any sympathy with.

Portugal – yes, I lived there for two years and I got to know the language a little bit and I just feel a bit stuck here. It’s not been a great year so far.

I’m meeting Karen at 3 o’clock in The Shipbuilder’s Armpit. I can’t work out how to dress. Are we going on a date?

Probably from the copious amounts of ganja i imbibe i’m quite down with the Buddhist philosophy, i’m also an ordained Dudeist priest so i can legally marry people and shit like that, Dudeism of course is based on the movie The Big Lebowski…

and i’m all for Karen fucking you, i’ll respectfully disagree with Exile, proper shags are up there with magic mushrooms in helping to realign the psyche into a more positive view, i also understand my worldview might be slightly different than the norm…

And if you allow me to go all psycho-analytic, i’d say it’s time to tell Wendy goodbye, i can only glean what is written but it seems an unhealthy thing for you at this point sir, everything about it seems to say “run away", now i understand the appeal of not but sometimes we forget we must take care of ourselves first be for we can do that for others and that relationship may even be subconsciously sabotaging your chances with other women… hence get away from her, tell her it’s nothing personal or tell her nothing at all but put some distance between…

i’m the Leo Tolstoy of comments (meaning they’re long as fuck) and pulled up Fontella Bass’ Rescue Me and somehow the next song played was I Want the One i Can’t Have by the Smiths, hmmm…

Well, I’ll give an account of my inconsequential meeting with Karen in the next post.

I can’t – and don’t want to – move Wendy out of my life. What I *can* do (and *should* want to) is to stop hoping for an idealised relationship with her; and, even, given that she no more fancies me than the third lampost on the left, give up trying to develop a sexual relationship with her. I’ve know this for a long time, but it’s hardly an easy thing to do with a girl like Wendy.

And what an apposite sequence of music you landed on!