I shared my ex boyfriend with somebody else. She had lovely thick hair, was full of energy and loyal to the grave. She loved long walks in the park and curling up by the fire on cold winter nights. They were a match made in heaven, he was smitten and she had found her perfect man. I admit although trying initially to get used to the idea of living in a three-way relationship I couldn’t cope with the constant competition and rivalry. One of had to go and it was me.
And now I am sure they are both living a contented and fulfilled existence together, the perfect companion for any man. A shaggy smelly, hairy, farting dog.
I have never understood dogs; my golden rule for animals is if you can see balls then steer clear. Why anyone would want a visible living penis in his or her front room is beyond comprehension to me. They slobber, shit; sleep and shag, so pets really do mirror their owners then.
If anything I find it a bit creepy when men love their dogs so much my ex would talk about his stinking mutt like she were human, feed her expensive tit bits and organize babysitters to keep her company during the day, he would practically tongue kiss it when he got home, and he was noticeably shocked when I said I didn’t like dogs, it was the deal breaker.
I have noticed a disturbing trend recently on online dating sites of men mentioning their dogs in their opening profiles, call me the ice maiden but anyone who sells themselves to the world by talking about their love of dogs, nieces and nephews, red wine and DVDs is not the man for me. Yuck, metro sexuality to the extreme and I find it revolting. I want a man who eats animals (Ok perhaps not dogs, but I hear they are tasty served with the right condiments) not plays catch in the park while listening to Karen carpenter and researching anti natal classes for the child he plans to have before he’s 40. Where did all the real men go? when did it become acceptable for a man to do yoga and be a vegetarian? I saw a man with a Chihuahua coming out of Tri yoga the other day; it shocked me to the core.
“My free days are mostly spent sitting in parks with my head in a book. Or ambling along the South Bank. Or mooching about in the Tate. My evenings might involve going to a gig at the ICA, writing a song, watching an Iranian or Russian film, reading fat old literary novels in the bath, or listening to Late Junction on Radio Three.
I watch very little television and have a low regard for what most of the mass media offer up to us”
Guardian Sole mates you’ll not be surprised to hear everything I cannot abide, mooching the Tate? Ambling the south bank? watching an Iranian film?? Purleease…the guy can even spell, it’s utterly offensive.
I am totally stereotyping and completely sexist and make no apology for it. Mentioning animals, small children or Russian films in any introduction screams vulnerability and neediness at best or god forbid, a total understanding of oneself at worst. Give me an old fashioned chauvinist pig any day of the week.
I dare say said profiler would be the type to take 6 months paternity leave to bond with his own child, can you imagine?! If my partner dared suggest such a thing I’d file for divorce quicker than you could say I’ll keep the house you can have the dog’.
Alas girls I fear that whilst championing the cause of women’s lib and equal opportunities, a scary thing has happened, a generation of dog loving, yoga practising, I’m not to proud to cry in public men have over-taken the modern world as we know it. You think a stag night in a strip club in Benidorm is a scary place to be as women on your own, try Wimbledon common on a Sunday morning…..