Dating and Dickpics: Episode 13

13. Unlucky for some. But as someone with seemingly endless bad luck, I like to think 13 can signify some sort of change.

Well, unfortunately, there’s no change here. I was recently at work on a Wednesday morning, quite happily tapping away on my keyboard and coding paperwork, minding my own business and listening to Drake (obviously) when my phone vibrated against the cool, hard wooden desk I’d placed it on. I figured it was one of my friends trying to arrange plans for the weekend so I didn’t hesitate to open it.

It was an anonymous dickpic.

my eyes my eyes.gif

Scarred for life

I’m not entirely sure what’s worse: a dickpic from a man you know or a dickpic from a complete stranger. Both are intolerable in my eyes and both are embarrassing but perhaps more so from the stranger because they are under the false illusion that somehow, their penis is so magnificent and aesthetically pleasing that you will jump on the next tube to their place naked.

I told the dick in question that his actions were repulsive and that I was not interested. I told him the sight of his ghastly manhood made me want to vomit. He proceeded to call me a whore. Right, I’m the whore. You’re the one who sent a picture of your genitals to a stranger, but I’m the whore. I preceded to destroy his logic by telling him that clearly he’s the whore out of the two of us because he’s so desperate for sex that he’s flashing his penis to an anonymous person. He then used some colourful language and after telling him to have a quick one-two pump in his hand because that’s all he could manage, I blocked him.

Lesson? I will always call you out on your bullshit and I will always have the last word if you dare disrespect me.


Queen of Effortless Clapbacks aka me

There was another guy who decided to stumble his fuckboy-ways back into my life. He texted me after months and months of silence. His excuse? He’s ‘choleric’. In case you wondered, he’s talking about one of the Four Temperaments which have been wholeheartedly disproved. This was his oldy-worldy way of saying ‘I’m a fuckboy and I’m only messaging you because I want sex and for some reason, I think that I’m so special you’ll break two and a half years of celibacy for me’.

Any guesses on how I dealt with that?

Did I:

  • A: Express my wonder at him texting me again and partake in some polite conversation?
  • B: Make it crystal clear that I am looking for something serious, not a party in my pants?
  • C: Explain how much of a fuckboy he is, only for him to beg for another chance?
  • D: C, but sass him down and block his sorry ass?

The answer is D, because I don’t suffer fools gladly. I was a little shocked that he had bothered to text me but then again, if a fuckboy wants sex, they will magically remember the number of anyone they ever met with a pulse. I don’t think he actually remembered me. He did vaguely describe the night I met him but I really could’ve been any girl he met in any bar in London. He was horny and desperate. I am neither of the two and I have exacting standards.


I’ll call you out if you’re a fuckboy

Remember how earlier on I was talking about how 13 is unlucky for some? It seems that this installment of D&D shows a change in luck, for I was recently with someone who met my exacting standards. We spent some time together and it was absolutely magical. It was, quite simply, the best weekend of my life (and I’m happy to say he also enjoyed it). He’s a good friend of mine and someone I feel extremely comfortable with. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not. I don’t have to be perfect. My imperfections aren’t a big deal to him. He makes me smile uncontrollably and laugh like a complete goofball. The best bit? I managed to successfully introduce him to my real, true love, Grey’s Anatomy. It’s all very early days but I’m excited and for once, I’m happy. Long may it continue. And although I love all of my readers dearly, I hope this is the last Dating & Dickpics I have to write in a very, very long time.


It wasn’t as cheesy as this but considering I’m a 20-something Bridget Jones, this picture seemed appropriate (note: I am cheesy)

Dating and Dickpics: Episode 2

Welcome to another installment of Dating and Dickpics. I’ve had some very questionable things happen in the last week.

Firstly, there was the Lithuanian guy who was trying to argue that reverse sexism was a thing and that I was being sexist towards him because I called out his blatant sexism towards me. We were discussing our hobbies and I mentioned that I liked watching football but sucked at playing football (FIFA excluded, of course). He then said ‘well, you must like watching football, watching all those men running around is why you watch it’.


Get me on this and I’ll bloody have you!

Let me school you there, boy.

  • There are female fans of football. I know, shock horror!
  • We understand all the rules.
  • We support teams based on either family tradition or where we live, like men do (I frown upon glory supporters of any sex).
  • We watch football simply because it’s a fun thing to do, just like guys watch football because it’s fun.

Of course, there will be females and males who watch footie for the men running around like nutters and that’s fine, but to make the sexist assumption that all women only watch football because of the men playing is not on. So I told him as such and said I genuinely like football for what it is, an entertaining sport.

And somehow, he had the audacity to accuse me of reverse sexism because I was pointing out his sexism. Safe to say he’s been blocked for being a complete bellend.

Sorry CR7, you just don't do it for me...

Sorry CR7, you just don’t do it for me…

I’ve also received the pick up line of the century from an older dude. He was 36…sorry but unless you’re Tom Hiddleston, I’m not going older than 30. He said to me ‘if I buy you a Toblerone, would you go out with me?’ Talk about taking candy from strangers…

If you ain't T Hiddy, you ain't getting this fittie.

If you ain’t T Hiddy, you ain’t getting this fittie.

Other than that, it’s been fairly uneventful apart from this gorgeous Portuguese guy called Tiago. He’s really hot, he lives in London, he’s 25. Oh Tinder, you have delivered. There’s just a few problems…well, just one, to be honest. He seems too keen. As soon as he finds out I’m not working on a specific day, he’s like ‘let’s meet up tomorrow’. Sorry but whatever happened to the art of planning in advance?! Also, central London is a fair way for me. And he wants me to go over to his place? Sorry for being cautious and shit, but I don’t go to anyone’s house on a first date. Or even a second date. Safety first. So perhaps Tinder hasn’t delivered, because he’s too pushy. I kind of thought the whole art of dating was to accommodate the other person and make sure they were comfortable in the place that you’re going on your first date? I think it’s safe to say I won’t be going on a date with him…

Think I know his real intentions...

Think I know his real intentions…

On another note, whilst I was promoting episode one of Dating and Dickpics, some random twat on Twitter actually sent me a full nude picture of himself and asked me to rate him. So now I will.

  • You’re never going to get anywhere if you send women unsolicited nudes.
  • That’s actually sexual harassment because I haven’t consented to such disgusting pictures.
  • You’re ugly, fat and pervy. Can I score minus marks?

NO. Just stahp.