Tag Archives: dating
It’s not you, it’s me
I don’t think I’m a very fun person at the moment, let’s start there. I used to be this irritatingly bouncy, joy-filled fucker who skipped from social event to social event with the words “isn’t this BRILLIANT” on my lips. I loved my friends, found pleasure in so many little things, and although life was often underscored by a pulsing beat of anxiety, usually I could keep that at bay with the promise of a pint in the sunshine and a decent playlist in my headphones as I stomped down the street to reach it.
Kissing at the speed of consent
I’ve mentioned this once or twice before, but never really allowed myself the pleasure of diving into it. I have time today, though, and this topic is all about taking your sweet time. Let’s talk about kissing at the speed of consent.
Maybe he just doesn’t fancy me
Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he’s tired. Maybe he’s had a terrible week and the last thing he wants to think about is dating apps. Maybe he just doesn’t fancy me.
“I volunteer as tribute!”: The problem with straight dating
Before I get stuck in, a confession: I had a different blog post lined up for today. It was a silly piece expressing some frustration at horny men who ‘volunteer as tribute’. When I write about how much I love getting fucked, there’s often a random stranger ready to pop up in the comments offering to fulfil my sexual needs. ‘Volunteering as tribute’ to let me wank him off or whatever it might be. Raising his hand, like that’s all that’s ever required.
OMG I just read your blog post about how much you love sucking cock and – weird coincidence, bear with me – it turns out that I have a cock! And what’s more, I really love having it sucked! We should definitely meet up and I can help you out with your problem haha! You like sucking dick? I volunteer as tribute!
Why the phrase ‘the ick’ gives me the ick
You know what ‘the ick’ is, right? A feeling you get for someone based off a silly/cringe/weird thing they did or said or are, which torpedoes your burgeoning attraction for them. Little moments of disgust which, once noticed, mean you can no longer fancy that person. It is often understood that ‘the ick’ is both irrational and unavoidable. About a month ago (sorry I’m slow) Stefano Hatfield published an opinion piece in the I Paper about how terrible ‘the ick’ is as a concept, so it feels like a good time to dust off my rant about why I hate this phrase so very much.