Dead-end Club Night; Chelsea Ferguson


Model and Twitter legend Chelsea Ferguson favourited a tweet I was mentioned in this week. Check it out


She’s fucking HOT! And so’s this Vanessa Knowles girl. 


You should check out the #flirtwithfergo hashtag for pictures of fit girls showing off.


Also I went to a huge club night somewhere in Manchester. Music was brilliant, but I can’t deny I was hugely fucked off that I didn’t pull. The friendliest, nicest girl in there had a boyfriend. Hence her being friendly and nice- for women, it’s nothing personal turning a guy down if they’ve already got a boyfriend. Always the way.


I did spend a while checking out one particular girl, daring myself to go and talk to her. Very tall, dark hair, very pretty. Large tits that may have been fake. It seemed like she was with someone, though- she was dancing with him and laughing at his jokes, but before long it was obvious she was laughing at him.


My mind was typically blank, but I still wandered over. “How long have you been with your fella?” I asked.


Good joke,” she replied deadpan.


I actually hate myself sometimes.


What I need is this: one woman, who likes house music, knows how to dance, isn’t a testosterone-fuelled man-woman who wants to punch everyone and looks good and is considerate and kind. That’s all I want. The only place I meet people, though, is in clubs- the last place you find relationship women. And that IS what I want. I haven’t got a clue how to do one-night stands and the girls I’ve met in bars have usually only offered me dead-end dates. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?” is the question I have. I’m in my early 30s and I STILL don’t understand women or get sex from them.


All the perversity you see on this blog is born of frustration- of not getting the sex and interaction a normal person would. I look like someone who might pick up quite a lot, but I have a huge anxiety and esteem problem that prevents me from getting anywhere with the people I like. But this can change. It must.


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