I was thinking about leaving this blog to languish, now that Christmas is over, but had a sudden spike in web traffic (113 hits so far today?!) and decided I’d be a fool not to carry on.
The idea that people would want to hear these ramblings astounds me. In real life, people are mostly desperate for me to shut up. As soon as I mention online dating, they start zoning out, changing the topic and, in dire cases, threatening me with an emergency horse muzzle. All I can assume is that you guys are an unusually masochistic lot.
This rings particularly true when you consider the sort of feedback I’ve been getting. Running the gamut from ‘intimidating’ to ‘terrifying’ (yeah, it’s a short gamut), the consensus is that this blog is downright scary. Honestly, where’s the appeal in scary? You might as well haemmorhage profusely and then go swimming with sharks.
Anyway, I didn’t intend to be terrifying but now that it’s happened, I rather like it. It feels powerful. It’s the closest I’ll ever get in my puny life to being Donald Trump.
One thing I can promise you: I’m not going to get personal. I’m not going to kiss and tell, use anyone as a case-study, or infiltrate people’s private lives by bugging their underwear drawer. On the rare occasions I use a real-life example, I will use only the most cretinous of cretins, and you’re officially excluded from that category if we’ve ever had a proper conversation.
As to whether I’m trying to denigrate men as a race? Nah. Girls are just as bad. It’s just that, lest they think I’m a predatory lesbian, I haven’t stalked them to quite the same degree.