Gone Fishing.

I spent a lot of time thinking about the content of my first ever blog post, and decided the best option would be to just jump right in to the general fiasco that is my life. I've got a feeling these posts are going to make it much easier for my therapist later in life.

So, it's no secret to my friends - and most major tissues manufacturers - that my love life resembles something you might see on Jeremy Kyle. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not spending £300 a week on weed, whilst pregnant with a child that has 13 potential fathers - I just mean it's parallel to the complete disasters I see on that stage. Now I'm not going into details (I'll save them for my autobiography) but the bottom line is that I'm due a break.

Now obviously when you've encountered nothing but poor excuses for men in the real world, a really excellent idea is to try internet dating (!). It initially started off as a bit of a joke with my flatmate Teacakes, who suggested I shun the traditional 'match.com' cliche for the slightly more local, and free option of www.plentyoffish.com . So I uploaded some nice photos of me 'being attractive', made myself sound almost sane in my profile and then sat back and waited for the man of my dreams to...fire up Mozilla Firefox and send me an email. Just like in the movies.

Oh. Dear. God. is all I can say...I genuinally don't know what planet some guys are on. I've come to the conclusion that only insane people linger on the internet based on the messages I started to receive. Don't get me wrong, some of my potential suitors were normal guys who I simply did not fancy. And some were complete and utter rockets. I don't know which was worse...receiving the photo of one member's meat and two veg (who obviously had ways of making things bigger), being asked if I'd like "a sugar daddy or a lover" or having one guy profess that he was in love with me and then go on to beg me to marry him and let him lose his virginity to me.

The worst ones however are the guys who seem normal until you read their dating profile. Allow me to give you an example; I received a message the other day from another young man lonely in love. His picture did not scream "serial killer/pervert" at me and his message was non-cheesy and non-sleazy. Tick, tick, tick. And then I read his profile;

"hobbies r bashin tramps , racing ferrets that were injured during the war , happy slappin huns , pumpin throats and much much more ladies am a catch u know !! i am unique simply cause a have a 1 incher and no girth ! my goals in life r to make it to 2 inches and maybe a wee bit of girth plz plz god help ! music a love the sound of skin slappin together 2 a totaly mind blowin tune ! talkin of blowing (u know the drill) haha ouuush msg me am up for the banter x"

Dieing alone with a thousand cats isn't starting to sound too bad...