Not all men are bastards, some of them are dead

Now, I don't want to be one of those whining women who complains about how all men are bastards whilst scoffing on a two kilogram bar of Cadbury's, crying into a tub of Ben & Jerry's and stroking one of my eighteen cats, but really, I'm beginning to think they might be. Very little evidence to the contrary. 


Take for example my lovely friend Francis. Francis, like most of us, is looking for that special someone. As a gay man, he tends to meet a lot of not so special someones. But then don't we all? 
So Francis is in his local gym. In the sauna. I know, cliche, but bear with me... There is a fella that Francis has seen around  the gym quite a bit, there has been lingering eye contact and what us lesser fools would call a spark. 
So, back to the 'ol sauna. Francis, notices said gentleman smile and move a little closer. There is conversation, laughter, mucho macho flirting and knee touching. 


Yum, right? 


Right. Until sauna boy casually mentions that he has a boyfriend. You can imagine the disappointment poor Francis felt. As would we all. When he leaves, Sauna Slut follows him to apologise with drivel like 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lead you on, I should have said something earlier' 


Sorry don't cut it buster.Yes you should have said something earlier and no, you have no excuse for behaving like a total twat. 


Why would someone do that? 


Before we answer that, let us join Heather. 


Heather is a friend of mine who is beautiful. Not only did she fall out of the beautiful tree and hit every branch on the way down. She snapped the branches off and keeps them at home for putting on make up. So, Heather is out with a group of friends and some new acquaintances and there is one guy in particular who is quite a charmer. Someone that she might not have noticed initially, but this guy has the chat. He is the sort of fella who would make you laugh till your knickers fell off.


This charmer asks my friend for her number. He texts her as soon as she leaves saying how he had a great night and they should do it again sometime. Heather is obviously quite excited by this. She thinks, this could be a good thing. She does some investigation through friends, tell me about this fella, you know in the private investigator way we all do, 'Does he have a job?' 'Where is he from originally?' 'Has he been CRB checked?' Unfortunately, Heather didn't get the answer to any of those questions, as the first thing she was told was that this guy has a long term girlfriend.


Really?!


I know that this isn't an unheard of scenario, we all know tales of this happening. We could all sit around the fireplace and regale each other for hours with wine and cheese and our stories about little shits. As unfortunately these things happen all too often. But seriously, why? What does a guy get out of it? The thrill of the chase? It just doesn't make sense to me. Is it training for when he is single again? Because if his girlfriend has any sense at all she won't be with him a lot longer.


My only solution is this, if a guy asks me for my phone number I'm just going to punch him in the face. I think it's safer to just cut to the chase.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Psychopath

Recently, I have been doing some talking, and one topic that has come up time and time again is women in relationships and our bizarre behaviour. Now, whilst trying to give a male friend some advice on why women behave in this way when in relationships, I did have to gently remind him that I hadn't been in one for a while.....

And then, whilst I was wiping the blood off my hands I got to thinking and here are a selection of my views...

Scenario number one. 

A boy is at a wedding. He is chatting to a pretty girl all through dinner, they are getting on very well, laughing, flirting, doing whatever it is young fools do at a wedding when there are wine and suits. Then it comes to the evening and they are dancing. And not just any dancing I mean Patrick Swayze (God rest his soul) style dancing. She had put down her watermelon and was giving it her all. He was thinking 'yabadabbadoo' 'yowzer' 'flibbertigibbit' and 'blimey'.
He was then informed, by a brutha from anutha mutha, that he needed to 'watch his step' this lady had a long-term boyfriend.
These are the questions that arose, why didn't she tell him? Why was she behaving like a slut-face? Did she want to split up with her boyfriend and get with this fella she had just picked up at wedding? I doubt it. It's an interesting one. I think in this case, attention. We girls like to think that we are sexy and desirable, and obviously lavish any attention we get especially if it is an attractive guy giving it.
 

There is a school of thought that flirting outside of the relationship is beneficial to the relationship itself. It reminds the person that they are attractive and sexy, boosting their confidence, which, of course, brushes off in the boudoir.
It doesn't go on to say how the poor sap feels who has been used and has been left to go home and watch soft porn on channel five because his internet connection is down. (I don't know this to be true - I don't know the guy that well).
All in all I would say that girl sounds like a bit of a prick tease. Why is it acceptable to rub yourself up against a man's love stick, only to go home to your man at the end of the night? It is not. It is not acceptable. Dirty Girl. Bad Dirty Girl. Go to my room.

Scenario number two. 

A couple have had a nice meal. Everything is lovely. A romantic atmosphere, good wine, a twinkle in each others eyes. They are walking home. The girl is quiet. Very quiet. 

The man asks 'is everything ok?' 

She replies 'fine'. 

More silence. 

'Really darling, something is obviously not ok' 

'I'm fine' 

'You're not fine, obviously. You haven't said a word' 

'Honestly. I'm fine.'
 

They go home, brush their teeth, get ready for bed, in complete silence. The man is in agony. He has no idea what he has done. Is she going to leave? Has she decided she hates him? Has she met someone else? Is she dying? Or worse, pregnant?!

Then they are lying in bed and she says, 'Actually it really pissed me off that you told the waiter we didn't want a dessert. How the hell do you know I don't want a dessert?! You think I'm too fat for ice-cream don't you?! You were insinuating that I had already finished off an entire plate of salad and that if I had a dessert I'd just be a pig who is already too fat and is going to end up looking just like my mother and that I make you sick to look at me!'

This happens with us women all the time. We are psychos! We let a guy sweat and sweat and sideline him with some pointless, stupid, petty argument that is generally about how insecure we are.
 

I know I do this. And the worst thing is while I am doing it I am having some sort of outer body experience. I am hovering over myself shouting 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY ARE YOU BEING SO DIFFICULT?! THAT DRESS LOOKS AWFUL!' etc....
 

And yet I can't stop, I just can't, we know where it's going and yet we want to cause more hassle. Why? Why is this in our nature?
 

I think this shows that women would make good spies. We store all our information away from the Russians and then at the very last minute when they are exasperated we confuse them with questions like 'Do you think my mother is attractive?' or 'Have you stopped respecting me because I do your laundry?' thus throwing them into such a state of confusion that we are able to bring them down with our stiletto knife heel.

Or something.