Hello if you’re visiting us for the first time- Once you’ve read the blogs, don’t forget to visit the forum to see our hillarious profiles and shocking emails- the best of the worst from dating desperados- no wonder they’re single!

You can also share your own single shame; We want you to let us know about the profiles that made you get up and leave your chair in despair, or fall off your off it with laughter, the emails that made you double check you had locked your front door and the dates where you had to plan and execute an exit strategy after 5 minutes!!!

We’re having a mysingleshame event on the 7th July at The Langley in Covent Garden, join our meet-up group for more details:

http://www.meetup.com/mysingleshame-com-party/

Of Glastonbury this weekend! While she’s away, check out one of her favourite blogs http://www.coax-london.com/blog/

To be honest, I deviated a little, well actually a lot from my strategy. For a single girl like me, who’s too curious for her own good, I got a bit carried away with the variety of Craigslist and found myself replying to more ads than I could keep track of, and encouraged by their speedy responses, I literally had them lining up- Result!!

I did initially stick to what I intended- two of each from my categories. The celebrity sportsman with the penthouse and playthings didn’t reply, which was a bit disappointing, but then again he was in my too good to be true category, so was probably gay or didn’t really have a penthouse. The successful, educated property owner who was looking for someone to settle down with turned out to be rather average and failed to mention that he was still married.

The first random who claimed to be a risk taker turned out to be Hungarian and clearly didn’t write his own ad, the English in his reply to me was worse than my GCSE German, and that’s bad, very very bad. The second random with the fetish for designer high heels just wasn’t my type, and despite the prospect of him buying me a pair of Jimmy Choos, I reluctantly let him go.

That leaves the Americans- The Private Equity guy is seemingly very rich, and wrote me a couple of interesting emails, he killed it though when one of them had a photo attached of him sitting on a bean bag, snuggled up with some sort of spiritual looking Ghandi type man playing a wooden flute. Weird. The guy who’s travelling to London to expand his empire is the only one I’m still in communication with, although I’m not sure how wise that is seeing as in his picture he’s wearing a cloak.

So no dates out of that bunch- but I did encounter someone who I naively thought could be special. His profile was impressive, his spelling perfect and his picture…….I do this thing when I open a picture, I close my eyes whilst it downloads, these days normally dreading what I’m about to see.

Not this time. He was, as they say, well fit. Tall, dark, amazing eyes, handsome- I thought maybe my luck was about to change. Maybe the only slight glitch was that he was an artist (I like a man in a suit) but on this occasion it was something I was prepared to overlook, because did I mention that he was well fit?…

Even more so after the emails and the calls, in less than a week he’d managed to convince me that the on-line thing might actually work. Plus- he asked me on a date, and I hadn’t been on one of those for months. It was time to get out my new skinny jeans

Although he was carrying a rather suspect man bag, it all seemed to be going very well, until I noticed that gradually that I seemed to be doing most of the talking whilst he gazed at me intently, seeing as I’d had a few glasses of wine, I just assumed that it was because I’m great, but as the night went on, it all started getting a little bit creepy.

I know that first impressions count, and there’s love at first sight and all that, but he’d seemingly decided over dinner that I was his soul mate and went on to tell me repeatedly how attractive and interesting and brilliant I am. Not one to argue, I went along with it all and agreed that it was a good idea to let him but me loads of cocktails in the bar we went to after the restaurant.

To be honest I could have told him to kiss my feet and he would have done, but I didn’t because I was too drunk. It went on like this for far too long, and he even managed to make it back to my place. However in the cold light of 3 o’clock in the morning, I realised that I had a potential stalker in my midst and politely suggested he ordered a cab. After an hour of persuading him I that I was quite sure that I wanted him to leave, he finally went and left me to collapse into a single girl heap.

Obviously, totally by accident, he left his man bag behind which was a brilliant reason to call me and text me and insist that we met for lunch. I told him I’d think about it. In the end I decided no, and suggested I post the bag instead. He selflessly told me to chuck it in the bin, so I took it Oxfam.

It seemed like I’d got away with it, until I got an extremely long email- the conclusion of which was ‘closure is good for the heart’. AFTER ONE DATE. So I’m now tactfully trying to explain to the man bag carrying artist with no man bag, that he really should move on and that I didn’t mean it when I told him I’d like him to teach me how draw (in fact I don’t even remember saying it).

In the meantime, I decided to persevere with my Craigslist quest, there’s something compelling about it- every day new ads appear and my wishful thinking convinced me that maybe at least one of them isn’t a weirdo.

Seems that I was wrong.

Some examples: ‘Jasper’ by his account an international business man with a place in London and in Paris, goes to the best clubs, restaurants, and on amazing holidays. Despite this busy and glamorous lifestyle, Jasper manages to respond to all my emails within one minute of me sending them, and they’re epic, not sent from his iphone, and mainly about how great he is. Some highlights in the forum.

‘Shava’, a well travelled professional, who claims that age isn’t important, and that I don’t need to know how old he is, and that anyway, he mainly hangs around with 19-32 year olds. Then proceeds to send me a picture which reveals that he is at least 60. Nice try though- trying to convince a girl she shouldn’t be bothered about dating an OAP

‘Neil’, a 6’6 x professional rugby player and rower. Sends me numerous photos which back up his claims, particularly the topless ones. However they also reveal a face which looks like it’s made out of play dough. Ok, looks aren’t everything, but he emails me more often than Jasper to check if I got the photos and again to check if I liked the photos.

Whilst all this is going on, I come across various posts, one of which is titled to be the ‘BEST POST EVER ON CRAIGSLIST’, they’re all written in the same style, refer to the author being tall, dark and handsome, and mention Mel Gibson. They seem strangely familiar and I suspect they’re all the work of the man bag artist date. I email him to ask, and he confirms they are. Will I always attract f*ckwits and freaks? Unless I give up on Craigslist, I suspect I will….

My love life is still a disaster zone, which is why I have been staying away from it. The more I persevered with on-line dating in the hope of finding a man remotely interesting, or attractive, (or god-forbid both!) the more desperate and hopeless the whole thing felt, so I decided to suspend my search and focus on more productive activities such as shopping and watching the Twin Peaks box set .

What’s more The Boyfriend is no longer her Boyfriend, or mine, and told me he might try on-line dating. Oh the irony. (I recently met his very handsome flatmate who confirmed my suspicions that fit men are mainly out for a sh*g- but he did assure me that he cleans up as he’s leaving- nice)

So obviously I am still single, and well into my wine, feeling a disturbing kinship with Bridget Jones, despite being younger than her and having less padding. I guess it’s time to get back on the dating bandwagon. My Match subscription has expired and I’m a bit skint due to the wine consumption, oh the irony-again.

I am resolved to carry on, as frankly there’s no alternative (bars in London are increasingly frequented by couples and gay people), with a dull wine head, and a couple of maxed out credit cards. What to do?

My experiences of free sites are that despite their claims and insistence you register before being allowed to browse their booty, are not really free and then proceed to spam my in-box with ‘alerts’ that I have messages which I can’t read unless I pay up (they’re probably from men who like to wet themselves or lie about their height anyway)

I have done some research, drastic times means drastic measures….I am going to go alternative and try out Craigslist, if nothing else I don’t have to come up with a user name and give my vital stats to have a look. What’s on offer?…

An array of profiles from the extreme to the unbelievable; men advertising a range of attributes from a penchant for wearing pink frilly knickers, to a potential father for my future children. Scary, but definitely more interesting than the ever so predictable profiles on the paid for sites. I guess no-one vets these appeals so they may as well tell it like it is.

My curiosity draws me to read most of them, and there are enough to distract me from a whole episode of East Enders. I notice that a large amount of the profiles with ‘pictures’, contain images from a Clinton’s birthday card you’d give to your grandma circa 1990. I deduce the fact the he has replaced a photo of his face with a sunset or fluffy kitten means he is A) a minger or B) a fluffy kitten. Will give them a miss then.

Equally concerning is the men who assume that a substantial package in the boxer short area excuses them from displaying a photo of their face, Yes, size does matter but, so does my man looking good in front of my friends with attractive boyfriends. There are only some girls who understand the compensation package of quantity and not quality, and they’re certainly not with keepers.

There do however, appear to be some hidden gems which intrigue me, although maybe not for the right reasons. I am compelled to reply- I’m going to be organised and have a strategy- categorise the types of profiles and reply to a couple for each one. Variety is the spice of life, and I am after all being alternative! Even if they are too good to be true, at least I gave it a go….

Too Good to be True – worth a go, you never know…
http://mysingleshame.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=90

Americans- Have had no luck with London blokes- why not?
http://mysingleshame.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=91

Randoms- Ok, I know I shouldn’t- but free shoes!!
http://mysingleshame.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=3&t=92&start=0

I had better get emailing, I will of course keep you posted, unless I one of them turns out to be handsome wealthy and the love of my life, which we all know is very unlikely………..

The Single Boy meets Rat Girl….

She was fit, I mean really fit. In this case the camera had definitely not lied. Great figure, slim, long blonde hair and a gorgeous smile. Maybe this internet dating was actually going to work. Like the princess had to kiss many frogs, before now, I’d had dates with many mingers.

The bonus was that she was also a good laugh, maybe a tad on the eccentric side, but what she lacked in the normal stakes, was more than compensated for by her great arse. Gorgeous, fun, was drinking me under the table- this was my dream date.

I couldn’t believe my luck when she asked me back to her place, and was even more blown away by her house; one of those very expensive conversions, with cream furniture. To top it all she owned it and was taking me up to her bedroom.

It didn’t take long before we were getting down to business and she was showing all the signs that I was doing all the right things until….

Suddenly she sat up really quickly and her face looked like she’d just remembered that she’d gone somewhere really far away and left the oven on. Not the sort of encouraging expression she’d had a minute before.

Then she announced; ‘hang on, there’s someone I’d like you to meet’, I couldn’t believe that this night could get any better, she jumped off the bed and I got ready to be introduced, wondering if her flatmate is as fit as she is……

I heard her coming back up the stairs, and it sounded like she was speaking to a baby, which I knew she didn’t have, so, slightly disappointed, figured it was a pet cat or a dog, or maybe a rabbit. (I’d always had reservations about girls who treat their animals like little kids, but on this occasion I was prepared to make an exception.)

She then appeared in the doorway holding a RAT, cats and dogs are one thing, but a rat??!! I bloody hate rats and there was the woman of my dreams turning our first date into a nightmare. She was holding a fu*king rat, and talking to it like it was a baby.

I knew if we were going to make any progress, or get back to where things had been heading, I was going to have to bite the bullet and be at least polite.

I smiled nervously and nodded in agreement that the rat, which was apparently called Pepsi, was very cute indeed, and then managed to coax her back on to the bed. The fun resumed until she bolted upright again. She wanted to show me her party trick.

I rubbed my hands, I like tricks. Unfortunately this one included Pepsi the rat. She opened the drawer by her bed, pulled out a packet of wotsists of the cheese variety, put one in her mouth, and lay back, and I watched in horror as Pepsi ascended on to the bed, crawled on to her neck and ATE THE WOTSIT OUT OF HER MOUTH.

Now obviously at this point I was hearing alarm bells, but I’d had a skin full, and she really was very attractive, so I managed to endure about 3 of the wotsit tricks and then persuaded her that getting off with me was more fun.

(Unfortunately not before the beloved rat had been put in one of those plastic balls, which as far as I knew, were for hamsters, and set about ricocheting off the walls of her room.)

Although the knowledge and the noise of the rat wasn’t ideal or conducive to my performance, I wasn’t about to be beaten by a rodent, and was going to show it who was boss.

And for a while my winning attitude did the trick. Things were hotting up nicely and I’d almost forgotten that we had an audience, albeit a furry one, when she slid off the bed and told me she had something else to show me, she disappeared into the bathroom. At this point I’m thinking am I scared, or am I horny?…

When she emerged in some really slutty underwear. I decide I’m horny, and actually, I don’t mind that much if she’s got a pet rat. Maybe I could even grow to like it, if she wants to wear stuff like that for me.

Back down to business, and I’m down to my boxers. I reckon they’re about to come off as she slides down to the end of the bed….. And slides right off the end of it; to put some music on. I wasn’t about to object, in fact some background noise would have been a positive as let’s not forget that the rat was still rolling around its hamster ball.

In my drunken haze it took a minute to register that, not only had she put on a Slipknott cd, the lyrics of which are along the lines of ‘I got a fu*kin gun against my head, you live when I’m fu*kin dead’, she was actually doing some weird dance to it. Now I’m thinking I’m scared and not so horny.

And as she walked over to a cupboard and took out a jar, even though she did look unbelievably hot in the underwear, I decide that I am not horny at all, and now scared. Because inside the jar, on top of a small pile of grey dust was a tiny skull, which she informed me with a tear in her eye, belonged to SHIRLEY; PEPSI THE PET RAT’S SISTER.

I grabbed my stuff and I legged it, there’s only so much I’m prepared to do. If she’s really something, I can share the affections of pets that are alive, even if they are rodents, but I have to draw the line somewhere and dead rats has to be where.

Back to the drawing board then, I sometimes reckon the mingers might turn out to be a safer bet.

Hello if you’re visiting us for the first time. Scroll down for The Secret Slasher posts, and your invitation to our Single Shame party in London on Thursday the 18th March.

Don’t forget to share your single shame!!

Go to the forum and let us know about the worst profiles you’ve seen, the scary emails you’ve been sent and the nasty dates you’ve been on.

I’ve seen thousands and thousands of online dating profiles on a huge variety of different sites. While many of these are perfectly normal, an increasing number are downright shocking!

I’m the Dating Coach for My Single Shame which of course showcases the very worst of these. Characters like the infamous “Single Slasher” really do exist and I hear about them every day. I’ve seen photos of people sitting on the toilet, profiles that talk about collecting socks or washing golfballs for a hobby. I even remember one poor chap who admitted a fear of the letter “S” but liked women to wrestle in jelly. These are often degree educated, professional people who you expect to know better. However, they are obviously single for a very good reason.

The clear problem is that many of them just can’t be bothered to fill their profiles in properly. They expect others to do all the hard work. You’d be amazed at how many people don’t add photos or write anything. Instead they think that emailing people they fancy with a two line message followed by their mobile number will magically result in dating success . Don’t even get me started on the ones who write in text speak like a 12 year old girl.

The Internet has also made it very easy to hide behind a computer and create false versions of ourselves. People, even the most reserved and shyest of us, say things that they wouldn’t normally dream of in real life. It all seems anonymous and safe so lines are quickly crossed. The trouble is that once they’ve done this is impossible to go back. Everyone has their own little fetishes, likes and dislikes but we need to keep them to ourselves.

I always teach people that your online dating profile is very similar to a CV. You need to present the best possible advertisement for “you” and get it out there to as many suitable people as possible. If you don’t stand out ( for the right reasons!) then you’ll be rejected immediately and never looked at again.

The important thing to remember is that while yes, there are weirdoes and oddballs out there, but they are easy to spot and avoid. There are far more decent, genuine singles out there who are much more deserving of your attention. The secret is learning how to find them, how to get them to notice you and then how to attract them.

If you need help or advice then do get in touch. It’s what I do for a living!

Happy dating,

James Preece – The Dating Guru

www.jamespreece.com