1. Type 1: Married, and looking to fool around
A particularly unpleasant type, usually they actively announce that they're already married and just looking for sex. Or, even worse, they announce they're married but then spin the 'I'm miserable' story. Please note that this does not mean they're in the 'we're separated but haven't managed to sort out living arrangements/we're staying in the same house for the kids' file - those have to be examined on individual merit, although bitter experience (my own, I hasten to add, I'd never presume to apply it to anyone else) has not left me feeling favourable about that group either. Anyway, the already-marrieds are a particularly unpleasant group. They have NO intention of leaving their wives - in fact, they're quite happy really with everything except wanting something voluptuous to sink their teeth into. Racing ahead with the breast questions (although they are not to be confused with the Harvey Pinchers, coming up shortly), they are purely interested in the sexual pleasures of a nice, big, curvy girl. I mean I can't say I blame them, but it's a pretty grim situation I think. I recently updated my profile to say that I'm not looking to be a secondary partner, or purely a sexual partner. Perhaps that's why it's gone quiet haha. I have to say though - and believe me, I'm not judging, but...I can't understand why you'd be happy just to be the fuck on the side. I mean...oh I don't know. I'm bitter.
2. Type 2: The Harvey Pincher (named for their love of bitty, see previous posts)
The Harvey Pincher is usually reasonably attractive, 30-or-40-something, apparently fairly successful, lives alone, IS OBSESSED WITH THE TIT. Jesus. Perhaps that's why they're living alone. It's because they've never managed to form a relationship with a woman apart from with what's under her shirt. It's pretty scary; these are the men that the t-shirts with 'I have a lovely pair of eyes, too' and other such slogans are aimed at. Sadly the love of the breast also seems to come with being poorly attached as a child, and the idea of a man who needs to latch on isn't an appealing one. First and foremost, I didn't get my nipples pierced thinking, hey I know, this'll be great for breastfeeding. Secondly, when I have a child I'd like them to have come OUT of my vagina rather th- oh wait, no. Let's just...let's just MOVE ON RIGHT NOW. NOW NOW NOW.
3. Type 3: The Cling-on (I know, I know, my geek is showing.)
The Cling-On is less obsessed with the breast, although aspects of the Harvey Pincher subtype do occur here too; they just want someone to cuddle. No...smother. And control and keep for ever and ever and ever. When I want to be suffocated to within an inch of my life, I'll call A and ask her to pop round and hold the pillow til I stop kicking. (Actually, we've indulged a couple of times, usually after a few drinks and whilst wearing leather underwear. Haha...not really. Honestly. God, I'm going to be in so much trouble.) No but...seriously. The Cling-On is the sort I avoid, mainly because as I said...if I wanted to date my dad, I'd
4. Type 4: Mr Desperate (aka Mr Lonely)
Gives you his phone number, address and inside leg measurement in the first e-mail. Has already sent you pictures of his entire family, work colleagues and a complete sexual history by the second. Within twenty minutes is talking about 'the future' and what a great connection we've made, and how glad they are they've finally met someone they feel so close to. This is after about an hour. This is also when you should pick up your fucking skirts and RUN, mama. It's not good. Don't go for dinner with them. It'll turn into the dating equivalent of Howard Moon's encounter with Old Gregg, although hopefully with less Bailey's and seaweed. (If you didn't get that reference and have a little time to spare, I implore you to click here and be enlightened, if a little disturbed.) Quite apart from the emotional horror of having someone literally sucking your will to live, there's also the unpleasant sensation of having to check whether you're offending them if you go alone to the bathroom...oh god, I'm talking about Lovely S again aren't I. He's not a Mr Desperate btw. *cough* Just a pervert. Oh hi, I've become obsessed with a man who wants me to pee in his mouth. God do I need a good seeing to....uh, let's move on. Quickly. Oh as a final aside, Mr Desperate and Lonely is quite cunning and can suck you in if you're vulnerable, at which point they turn into a fully evolved Cling-On and usually the only way to successfully leave the relationship is to arrange to have them shot. Certainly from bitter experience that's the easiest way. That, or just move. Country.
5. Type 5: Mr You'll-Fuck-Me-You're-Fat
Also known as Mr Cocky, this poisonous example is of the opinion that since nobody else will shag you*, you're an easy lay. Of course, he is often much mistaken as to be honest over-confidence usually means one of two things - he's so poor in bed that previous girlfriends have had to really, REALLY fake it so he doesn't go home and hang himself, and it's gone to his head, or he's never had a challenge. Both are pretty repellant. See also Dr Cockface, who - for the record - has a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp, but who is convinced he's the greatest thinge ever to happen to chubby girls all over the UK. Um no mate. We all e-mail each other about you and laugh at your stupid spaniel haircut. Yes, you. Fucking spaniel head.
*Worth noting at this point is this article, via Sexoteric. I'd also like to point out that the sentiment that nobody will shag you if you're fat is, obviously, a big fat fucking lie, haha. Or I'd have had a very boring life indeed. It's entirely the opposite, but we'll get to that soon enough. Note, though, that people who think so much of themselves that they consider what they're offering to be a privilege are usually pretty shit people all round. Yeah, YOU, Dr Cockface. Haha.
6. Type 6: Mr Genuine
I don't have anything funny to say. He's a very rare one, though. I'll let you know when I spot him. *whips out binoculars*
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