Impale
Noun. Alcoholic beverage for a small goblin.

Askant
Verb. To question a female relative.

Covenant
Noun. An insect involved in witchcraft.


I could do this all night :)

Would I go anywhere?

You've even got my 100th post in here before I sign off for the evening

oh now comeon T, how could a relationship with me in it be crappy?!

ok! ok! I said I was off to bed ages ago, I'll go before I start to go all on you...

Searched, found, and messaged. Here's hoping eh?

Tally-ho:

noun. A Whore who keeps score.

Countryside

verb. The act of killing Simon Cowl

Crackerjack

noun. A device for lifting Buscuits






You guys know what to do!

You chaps crack me up.

I'm gonna scoot for the night methinks - I'll check in tomorrow and see if the Mingle crowd answer my pleas

Nunight folks and folkesses.

OMG. Where have you been all my life?!

Granted, and some damn good advice, thankyou

...But (there had to be a but, right?), How does one commit to anything if the second one thinks of a date one extrapolates into the future all the endless ways in which things can go bad or one can get hurt? How can anyone even contemplate a date under such stringent controls?

I'm enough of a hopeless romantic to feel that I'd rather risk it all, fall apart and rebuild myself time and time again. Each time knowing that it might happen again and each time it being the worse for it. It seems more noble to throw myself at something whole-heartedly and fail than to watch the opportunity flutter away. How can anyone feel regret for an opportunity that exploded when they reached for it?

...for that matter how can anybody get away with overextending his metaphors quite so shamelessly?

You get my point? I'm happy to be reckless and throw myself at something - it's all I've ever been able to do.

Ceilidh dance. Can't beat 'em :)

ha! Move to the fens chap - they'll let you off anything unless it was one of their sheep you were wooing...

Nope, Is it worth all that? I might look into it as my little treat this month...



Ahh, the Englishers are few and far between to be sure - and as a whole I think we're less favourable towards the whole online dating thing. But if you think about it, if I believe that I can meet my match online, and I'm the kind of guy who'd go online and start looking, surely the kind of girl I'd like to meet would be the kind of girl who'd be inclined to do the same? Just how fuzzy is my logic getting here?

Still, there are people on here and many, many awesome people too. There are Englishers out and about.

I'm very definitely out and looking for love, my plea is borne of frustration. And possibly insomnia... but lets concentrate ont he romantic one, shall we?




Bah! Take your easy solutions and get! I'm living for the open Mic nights at Perfect 5th atm. Maybe a more varied pint-acquiring system is required to snare a likely female?

Bah, they can do this to ya. They probably all had money and liked Paris...

I fixed my bike!

Finally I can get out and riding again :)

Or, in other words - I'm still on here and kicking about :p Hope you're all doing swell

Take care now, y'hear!

M

When I signed up to this (and a couple of other sites) I was sceptical - I didn't think you could meet your match online. Not really.

Well, I suspended my judgement and took the plunge and here I am. Now I do believe it's possible, in fact I've seen a fair few people hook up with great success on dating sites.

However, here I still am. Single.

I'm pretty sure I'm not a looser or a sorry case. Hell, it's an effort of will to write such a whiny post at all (whining -really- isn't my style). I'm not sure I'm all that good looking, but I'm happy with how I look. For some reason I just don't seem to be able to get any response or interest from people.

It's beginning to wear a bit thin really, I'm not built to be single and this chronic lack of TLC isn't doing Mike any favours. Where is she hiding? I'm certain I'll meet this girl, this Girl who'll laugh at my silly ways, this Girl who'll come out into the hills with me, this Girl who'll share my curiosity for everything and anything. This Girl who'll spark my interest like a supernova.

So, Mingle2 I put the following question to you:

Can you find me this Girl?

and please, can you find her soon?

M

You're about as far away from me as it's possible to get on this wittle island, but I'll send you a hug anyway *hugs*
Mx

You meet a girl. You start to talk, one thing leads to another. You take her to Paris, fancy restaurant, lots of champaign, when you're pleasantly drunk you climb into the limosine that's been waiting and head to stay the night in a very expensive in a 5-star hotel, more champaign, and lo, for all your expense and effort you make love to her all through the night.


My observation is thus:

The only thing differentiating the above from a dark van in Brighton and some chloroform, when you get really down to it, is the cost. Right?

Too many people have sttuuuuccckkk keyboards that make them type liiikkeeee thiiissss. *sigh*

It's a little revealing that the two points above are both hideously generalised - even sexist. They're also the only two that couldn't really apply to Women, and the only two I out-and-out disagree with.

I'm 22, still young and foolish etc but already I've been cheated on twice by girls.

We could re-write 10 to be 'women cheat because they feel that in a society where glass ceilings are lifting and equality is forever increasing they feel that they can get away with more, that their desires are morally superior to the desires of a Man'.

I guess the point I'm making is one that so many others have made:

It's all claptrap. People will cheat. Man, Women, Boy or Girl - some people are just wired that way. Sometimes there's reasons, sometimes the only reason was that the opportunity existed.

I wouldn't even go as far as to say that cheating is always wrong.

Before I qualify that statement, I definitely would/could never cheat, and I've held my moral stance in practice too - breaking up with a girlfriend of 3 1/2 years for whom I was still absolutely infatuated because she cheated on me. It hurt like crazy, and I took the best part of a year to get over it properly.

The whole episode taught me that there were many things I wasn't happy with in the relationship and actually I'm a stronger, more rounded person now than I've ever been thanks to it.

Even for couples that have gone through a rough patch and come out the other side, sometimes a serious misdeed like one of them cheating is what it takes for them both to realise how much they place in their relationship.

An example: When I broke up with my Ex. She started seeing the guy she cheated on me with, they lasted about 2 months. The only reason she fell for him was because she still had me, when I left the picture (well not entirely, we're very much still friends) she realised that she'd thrown away something much more real - this isn't me rationalising a nasty breakup, these are her words (see what I mean about still being good friends) - breaking up with her allowed us both room to become something new and better, and hence, in a roundabout way I'm now rather glad that it all happened.


Christ- I've written an essay again *sigh* Sorry folks :p

I saw another thread on here and it sparked a little creative writing bug in me. The following is the story that popped nigh fully-formed into my head. It's largely based upon the revelation I have towards the end - I actually had that moment for real.

It's really not very finished - I've penned it to get the idea out there and see what happens to it.

Anyway, I'll stop gushing and just give it to you:


There was a chap in my old town who lost everything overnight in a house fire - wife, two daughters (4 and 6), family home, pets, the works. In one evening, a gas leak and a faulty boiler - the house was a fireball before anyone even knew there was a problem. He came back from a night away to nothing left.

The insurance company barely paid out a penny. He had no address, no living family. He broke down. Lost his job, lost everything. He attempted suicide twice.

I met him in the library, he was reading Homer's illiad. I was talking to this guy every week for almost 6 months before I found out his story - when he opened up it was the first time I ever saw him without a smile on his face. He was living in a shelter near the centre of town.

This guy was amazing, he worked 12-hour days, 4 days a week as a dogs-body in a local garage, 2 days he spent working in the shelter he lived in and his day off he devoted to study. He wanted a degree in something, anything, so he started reading. He liked the old epics and so he learnt Greek. He enjoyed that so much he applied to read Classical Civilisations with the Open University. He'd also learned to play the Saxophone, Guitar, Violin and Piano.

I was in awe of this man - someone who lost everything and yet still found it in him to do all these things. After he told me his story I asked him how he did it, how he not only carried on but even went on learning all these new things. He didn't answer.

The next week, Wednesday 5:30pm. I saw him again, in the library, I found my book and went to sit with him as usual. He put his book down and turned to me, smiling as he always did.

"If you could do anything, anything at all, what would you do?"

I replied instantly - I wanted to be a pilot.

He smiled.

"Well, go and be a pilot then"

Now, I'm all for the motivational 'just do it' speeches but just going and being a pilot isn't really possible. To be fair, I'd not been looking for placements or schemes for a good few weeks - they'd kind of fallen behind what with work and the (then) Girlfriend taking up a lot of my time.

He saw my doubt and his smile vanished.

"You're me before the fire." He said. "You've got everything going for you but you just can't be bothered, you're secure and you're boring. I'd always wanted to learn to play a musical instrument, but I couldn't afford it because of the kids. I'd always wanted a better education, but I hadn't the time - I needed to work to pay the mortgage. I never had the chances you have, and here you are happy to pass them by, consumed with the day-to-day running of an average life."

He got up and left. I felt terrible.

But the following Wednesday, there he was again smiling in his usual spot in the library. I found my book and whilst deciding if I could face him or not he waved me over.

I'll never forget what he did next, as he handed me a few sheets from his little notepad.

"Look at these"

He'd given me a list of all the training schools, mentored and tagged schemes, all the scholarships going for a Commercial Pilot's Licence.

"Go and do it. You asked me how I keep going? Maybe when you're half way towards your licence, studying and flying your heart out you'll think of me and you'll feel a little of what keeps me going."

He wasn't in for a while after that, I only found out his name was Paul when I asked the librarian if he'd been in.

Over the next few months I applied to mentored schemes with Flybe, and got rejected, then with NetJets, and got rejected. I re-applied to Flybe, and got rejected once again. Every rejection letter made me think about giving it up, and every-time I thought of Paul smiling in his chair at the library and looked at the next scheme down the list. I applied to British Airways CityFlyer and got accepted.

Paul was delighted when I told him the week before I left. Shook my hand, beaming from ear to ear. I promised to pop in to the library at the usual time when I was back in the UK next.

About half-way through the course I split with my girlfriend of 4 years - she found someone else. It tore me to pieces. After that I started to look upon what I was doing in a different light. I was training to be a Pilot! This was everything I'd wanted for as long as I could remember. I had awesome friends and coursemates and I was chasing my dream. This was for me, this was who I am. Sure, it's not going to last forever, but when I'm done here there's other things I want to learn, so many other cool places to go, things to do. I'm always happy so long as I'm always working towards something. The setbacks, bad days, all the grief just rolled off me like water. I thought of Paul. Is this what he meant? I had to tell him about my little revelation, in some small way I think I'd grasped a tiny bit of what kept that man afloat.

I was back in the UK about a month after that, I went to the library at the usual time, full of excitement.

Paul wasn't there.

He'd died of a heart attack two weeks before.

He was cremated. Nobody attended.

Nobody claimed the ashes.

On the back of the last of the notes he'd given me he'd written the poem:

"Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own,
He who secure within can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst,
For I have Lived today."



Carpe Diem, people.

*sniffle*

Certainly makes you pause and count life's blessings - as tough as it gets there's always someone who has it worse and yet who remains happy.

There's a massive story I could tell here, but I think I'll word it up and pop it into it's own thread - I'd hate to hijack this one.

M