diatribe of <strike>cyber</strike> 'a dater'
It’s no surprise that my last post here dealt with not being able to shut the frack up and I subsequently went quiet. Quiet as in behaved like a good boy.
Well I haven’t. At. all.
I’ve been blogging, misbehaving as an old boring ranting sod.
Online.
And in real life.

Last night, after my 16th Saturday of work out of 20, I assumed it was time again to hit the pub. The local pub.
Yes, that pub with always the same inbred local faces.There is this saying in our town village: ‘If there’s a new bird in town, madbull will get her‘.

There’s a thing I don’t understand about dating sites.
Why is it that women who voluntarily draw the attention to their body, their knockers, in their profile pictures, are starred/favorited/friended averagely 15 to 20 times more often than anyone else?
If I wanted a nice pair of boobs, I’d dress up, go clubbing and pay the first [...]
Once feared because of its aggressive tone, once a geek borefest and later on even the diatribe of an e-dater. Revived now and with the potential to go aggressive again, once the feedreader has been filled again.
But most of all, just a place to rant and rave, away of the known 'official' sites.
I'm a sucker for blond. Especially fake blond women. Or wait, what about a spicy, trim-lined brunette like Posh? To be honest, I prefer racy redheads, but one knows that they only bring grey hairs... and many medals for the significant other.
Oh well, I'll settle for Dita von Teese!