Wanted: woman

I’ll be honest. I’m single.

I know, I know – this will shock many of you. After all, I’m the former marketing director of a major manufacturer of consumer durables, and a planner at one of London’s most unrepentantly pretentious advertising agencies.

Also, I’ve got a dong like a fucking baguette.

Sadly, though, this potent cocktail of masculine must-haves is not enough for the women of London.

And to be honest, I’m getting a little lonely. A man of my intellect can’t live as an island. I need a collaborator, an equal, a sparring partner with whom to spend the evenings in discussion of art, politics, theatre and philosophy.

So, here’s the ad I’ll be placing in everything from Guardian Soulmates to the windows of the local rub ‘n’ tugs. Feel free to share it with your single female friends (or, indeed, with any friends who you think have a total fucking waste of air for a boyfriend / husband).

My name is Dave. I’m looking for a woman. A woman I can call my friend, my lover, my equal.

You’ll be a current or former stripper with bazongas like a pair of fucking footballs. You like nights in, nights out and bouncing on my weapons-grade wang. Ideally, English is your second language and you know when to shut the fuck up.

If you’re not a current or former stripper, you’ll be at least an 8 on the Knockles Phwoarmeter (I can let you have a PDF of this if you need it – best to assess yourself rather than have the disappointment of me ruling you out) and you’ll have a job that won’t embarrass me when I introduce you to people (dinner lady, vet, miner, academic, copywriter – that kind of thing).

It’s absolutely mandatory that you have at least one proprietary blowjob technique and that you can remember a safe word. Add a liberal attitude to men who frequently piss themselves, even more frequently shit themselves, disappear for days at a time, shout expletives in their sleep, belch sexually disturbing epithets involuntarily and openly masturbate in areas of natural beauty, and you could have a chance – just as long as you’re also happy for me to continue my three-hooker-a-week habit.

I look forward to hearing from you.

 

What do you think? I’ll tell you what you think: you think I’ll be beating the birds away with a fucking stick. And that’s because I know the human psyche like the back of my hand.

Why? Because I AM THE PLANNER!

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