The first woman who broke my heart was called Lotte. She dumped my ass and then subsequently slept with Coolio after interviewing him for a magazine. I still hate Coolio to this day. I have never been one to take these things on the chin. I swore revenge. During the long summer of 2008, most of which was spent staring at the walls and reading French literature I constructed a plan. A quest. After all, nothing rebuilds your esprit like a quest. I decided I was going to sleep with EVERY single one of Lotte’s chode friends and drive them out of S’land forever. These people would congregate at Diva every Thursday night. I would seize my opportunity to destroy them.
I set upon my quest like a fucking warrior. I started going to the gym TWICE a day. Within a short period of time I went from being overweight to a RIPPED ABS hero. I then topped my new look off with absurdly big hair – later copied by Jedward, Elvis sunglasses, copious amounts of fake as fuck bling, a collection of Air Supply t-shirts and a MEMBERS ONLY jacket. I looked like a drunken rockstar on his way to the shops to buy condoms. Pretty fucking cool if you ask me. I then further transformed myself out of spite and vengeance from a quiet and bookish chubby chode into a sexual FREEDOM FIGHTA. I began launching myself around town with a steely determination and passion. It was such fun. Using my summer of reading fucking French literature to assist in formulating fantastically over-the-top and absurdly hyperbolic statements and compliments to capture the heart of maiden fayres. Even more absurd, it fucking worked. I quickly slept with 3 of the chode circle. Huzzah. I then moved on to the hottest of the group. An extremely bitchy blonde. This had previously concerned me. However, what I found over that summer and on that fateful evening as I made my gambit, surprised me. Sleeping with the hottest girls is EASIER as long as you aren’t phased by their shit. After running wild with stupid over the top hair and a fucking Members Only jacket for months on end with all the bullshit that goes with it, I wasn’t phased by anything. Myself and my friend The Butcher warmed up for the big night by playing the rejection game. The premise of this game is that you approach groups of women and try to get blown the fuck out as quickly as possible by making extremely cringeworthy and inappropriate remarks. The strange thing about this game is that the LONGER you play, the more DIFFICULT it becomes to get rejected. You usually end up with women just grabbing you, kissing you and shit. It was at this point I knew I was ready for bitchy blonde @ Diva. Four down. One to go. The best friend.
Then one afternoon during that summer, God smiled on me. I bumped into her. God must’ve hated the fucking chode circle too. I ran into the best friend Helen in town. Helen had initially been bitchy towards me and would make shitty remarks about me on MySpace. The first night I’d met Lotte in Diva, I’d stole her drink and told her to ‘Fuck off’ when she tried to take it back. She did not like me. However, this was fucking fate. I walked up and started talking to her. I looked her in the eyes, grabbed her hand and said, ‘Come on, I’ll give you the tour of Sunderland.’ We walked around for a few hours and then went to a bar. I found that I actually liked Helen better than all of those fuckers, including Lotte. She had style, class. We began messaging each other and then arranged to meet up again.
Whilst out with her, I found myself reticent and nervous to go for the kiss. Thankfully, I was now a RIPPED ABS hero and cool as fuck and she just got fed up and went in and kissed me first. VICTORY.
We dated for six months. However, there was no happily ever after.
Tune in next time for, ‘attracting and having women fall in love with you is easy, it’s what the fuck you’re supposed to do after which is difficult.’