Sex, Lies and Internet Dates

Hi fuckers,

 

Let me make it all about me for a bit.

Do you know when a fridge suddenly switches off and it’s only then that you realise it was making a terrible noise for a very long time? I’m feeling that kind of quiet and calm now.

The very high pitched nasal whine of an exhaustingly persistent mood hoover has stopped.  I wonder how I ever put up with it in the first place. How did I ever take arguments so seriously when it sounded like beaker from the muppets was shouting at me from the other side of the door.

Here’s a thought….

We were always getting post addressed to Mr Harrison Chase and Miss [insert slut case here]

I used to think it was because people thought he was an abbreviated Janet, but maybe the confusion arose when they heard his miserable lady voice on the phone.

Anyway, enough of that lying sack of hate, we’ve got a proper divorce agreement now, and more importantly he looked like utter shit when I last saw him, which is the most important thing is it not? I looked fucking great by the way.

I am back on the dating scene now, as I was way back when I first erected my magnificent column. I’ve had one date so far, he was very handsome. I mean he was very handsome six years ago when his profile picture was taken.

This all sounds very negative, but things are actually amazing. I feel happier than I have in years. My new flat mate is a real joy to live with, I have abs that my gran could wash socks on and I finally found that checkered suit.

Anyway, watch out everyone. I’m back, and this time I’m in slim fit MacCallum tartan.

Harrison

x

 

 

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