My Time on Slut Row... Otherwise Known as Tinder

Imagine you're walking down the street, minding your own business when you can't help but catch someone's eye. There he is, checking you out, a tall dark stranger, checking you out. And there you are, checking him out. You smile and get on with your day considerably happier than you were 30 seconds ago. This isn't a movie, this genuinely happens... every now and then.

Now think about that happening to you on an average of 15 times a day. Then imagine that about 5 of these 15 (mostly) beautiful men decide they're going to talk to you. Even the most confident girl would wonder if someone had come along and given them a model style makeover over night... or just a full on face transplant.

Introducing Tinder, where you "match" people based on the fact that you both consider each other bangable. No other info needed, just pure shallow booty call fun.

On a totally experimental basis (I promise!) I downloaded the cheeky new app taking young single adults everywhere by storm.

Day 1: This was a stupid idea, I've been swiping people left like there's no tomorrow, where are the hot guys everyone's been telling me about??

Day 2: So as it turns out, nearly every guy I decide to like, has also liked me. Thanks new profile pic, you're doing well. Apparently all the guys on here are either psychic or massive stalkers because they all seem to know everything about my life and future plans... creepy!

Your Tinder picture is important.

Day 3: Turns out surfers aren't as 'rad' and indie as I thought. Yup, that's right, they're all on Tinder. Also discovered that by syncing Tinder with your Facebook, all you're info is transferred as well, which explains why all these guys have been asking me about New Zealand and journalism. Shout out to Tinder match number 10 for pointing that out for me... but no, I will not sit on your face.

Day 4: I'm an addict. Met up with some friends in town and could not put my phone down. Exchanged a few numbers today (or Whatsapp, or Facebook or Snapchat names). So far so good, thanks for restoring my faith in humanity guys, you're all nice people... Well, mostly! Yes I'm talking about you, Mr Fallen Angel. "Hey, looks like God has lost an angel. Or did you escape you naughty thing" is quite simply not how you start a conversation with a stranger. "Hey, did you know that pineapples don't grow on trees but like individual plants... like cabbages" is definitely a better way to capture my attention.

Day 5: This is getting a bit much, I feel like a top lying adulterant husband, and my friends think so too! I've got my favourites and I think it's probably time to narrow it all down, my ego is dangerous, selfies are occupying my life because apparently I'm sexy, with fabulous eyes (or eggs... my favourite opening line from a guy by far.)

Day 6: Now I'm just a slut. It has to stop. Goodbye Tinder, you were fun while you lasted, but my days are over. Tinder deleted.

It's been a week since I deleted it now and if I'm honest, I think it was for the best. Who needs men falling at your feet every hour a day? I definitely could do without the constant buzzing of my phone.

Over all, its just an shallow, ego boosting booty call all wrapped up in one big sexy app! So if you're horney, lonely and feeling a little down on yourself, give a few guys a like, get chatting, arrange a date and bang their brains out.

Call it what you like, it has it's uses...

Don't want to be a third wheel with your friend and her boyfriend? Take a Tinder date.

Need to get your mum off your back about being lonely and without a boyfriend? Use a Tinder date.

Peace Out, get laid.
 

The Older Man

Whether it's true or not, I've always preached the theory that women become mentally mature at a younger age than men... Therefore we have to pick someone older right?

It's no new trend, women have been attracted to older men for years. From Monica and Richard in Friends, to a school girl confessing that she's got a crush on a guy in college.

But as everyone hits the 18 mark and beyond, this theory seems to really come into it's prime; and apparently the age is 22. 

"Hope, it's all about the 22 year olds- I don't know what it is but they're the best in bed!" 

She's referring to her boyfriend of course. And I worked out that 22 is the current age of all those boys you thought were so attractive a few years above you in school. You always dreamed that one day they would notice you... And it turns out all it takes is a few years and serious style rethink. Who new? 

At times like this I wish I had a time machine so I could go back and tell my little awkward and nerdy self that it's okay, because in the future all those guys will actually be willing to sleep with you!

But what if you're talking to a 25 year old? Or sleeping with a 29 year old? Is there a point where it stops being 'older' and is just plain old? 

My theory is there are two lines a girl will not cross:

Over 30...

Obviously there's always someone who have a one night stand with a 35 year old man because they were just so wasted that night but over all, it's a general faux pa to be regularly sleeping with someone more than 10 years older than you.

Over 22 (if you want to bring him home) ...

Imagine being a mum (maybe you are a mum... Or a dad); your 19 year old says she wants you to meet her new boyfriend, she brings him home and introduces him as "hey, this is *insert name* and he's 27." Chances are he's not seeing his next birthday. But 22 is just about on that boundary of okay. 

So how did this come about? Do the lines increase a year everytime you get a year older? And where have all the guys the same age as you gone in this scenario? Are they also going for older women? Or are they continuing the cycle and have started going for younger girls? The questions go on and on. 

At the end of the day, I think it's up to the individuals and what they believe. But it's a trend that's been going on for centuries, why change it now? 

Peace Out.

I Like You.

The music blares, the dance floor bounces and peoples hands are thrown in the air in celebration.

Mazey. The one time of the year that it's okay to end up at Sound (the local night club). Anything goes and everyone is happy and intoxicated. 

Words aren't needed, communication is done through our moved on the dance floor, and thank goodness too because I doubt people have much to say beyond drunkern slurs of "I love you" and other profanities. We're here to have fun, we're here to let our hair down and what a better way to do it than at a town carnival. 

So here are some picture and my song of the night. Love you Lorde

400 Lux - Lorde

"We're never done with killing time, can I kill it with you, till our veins run red and blue....."

"We come around here all the time, got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you...."

"You pick me up and take me home again, head out the window again, we're hollow like the bottles that we drank....."

 

"You drape your wrists over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here, we might be hollow but we're brave...."

 

 

"And I like you..."

 

 



 

"I love the road where the houses don't change..."

 

 

"And I like you ..."

 

 

 

"Where we can talk like there's something to say..."

 

 

 

"And I like you, I'm glad that we stopped kissing in the dark on the highway, we move in between the streets, I'd like it if you stay...."

 

 

 

"We're never done with killing time, can I kill it with you...?"

 



 



"Till our veins run red and blue."

Peace Out.

 

Just a little quote I plucked out the air

"I love that feeling when you know you're not just wanted, but needed by him. That feeling of irresistible lust and passion. The feeling when the fireworks finally start and everything around drops away until it's only the both of you in the world. But there's one certain thing about great things such as fireworks... They come to an end, and when they come to an end, everyone goes home. And that's the best feeling, knowing that you don't have to stand around and wait for the next show, you get to go home and relive it all again next time."

Summer lovin', hating and everything in between

Welcome to summer guys and girls. But don't get your hopes up too much because then you end up like us, the notorious terrible twosome.

Sat on the bed smoking and contemplating how people flirt in today's day and age, we're both utterly clueless. A newly single and a serial friend with benefits, we're both a little rusty in the dating department. 

An hour later and Miss just-got-out-a-relationship has recieved a Facebook request to sit on some very excited guys face. Maybe we're being too forward? God knows are flirting practise dummy seems to think so.

I've taken a slightly different approach... It's called the sit back, watch and laugh. 

When did flirting become the be all and end all of every sexual partner? My sexy talk/ flirting has always both begun and ended in the bedroom, so why does my availability and general need for sex now have to be posted on social media for all worthy and non-worthy possible fucks to see? 

And when did "I want to sit on your face" become a valid pick up line. Of course you have to respect the guy for putting himself out there so bluntly. 

As newly single as my twosome counterpart is, her own blog post about taking the moral high ground may need rethinking.

"FUCK THE MORAL HIGH GROUND!" We shout as we realise that we've been clearly ruining the first part of our summer. We're young, sassy and the "perfect combination of sexy and cute" to quote the crappy, girly romcom Crazy Stupid Love - a working title for my life. 

Between maybe imagining a cosmic undeniable attraction and sustaining the longest and most successful friends with benefits in history; a terrible love life from the past and the infidelity I promised I'd never committed. Life and love are both very complicated things. 

Whilst all these normal thoughts of a nearly 19 year old student (it's my birthday in 1 hour) are rushing through my brain, who has time to contemplate the mentally exhausted chess game of flirting? 

On Saturday I'll do what I want and act like me. It's not time to be loosing myself and it's most certainly not time for the terrible twosome to stop being terrible.

Peace out.

Birthday Fever

Everyone does it (or at least I hope they do). Your Birthday is around the corner, and all these plans come to mind. What you're going to wear, what you're going to do; who you're going to invite and who you're not. But the day looms closer, reality sinks in. Turns out, no matter how old I am, I'm still not Carrie from Sex and the City and I'm not going to be getting a pair of Manolo Blahnik's for a present, and neither will I be wearing them out for cocktails in London or New York.

They may break my neck but god they're
so beautiful!

Being a country bumpkin and going to university so close to London, it's really easy to get caught up in all the crazy city life. The expensive clothes, the constant glamour and the roof top lunches about 500m from the ground. It's easy to forget my Cornish roots. The most glamorous I've ever been was at my school graduation prom, it's hard feeling comfortable in slacks around slick city chics.

Good bye city life, hello Cornish life

Having to divide your home life and uni life is one of the hardest bits of growing up. Having no choice but to be an adult and have responsibilities at uni and look smart so people take me seriously and then being able to go home, let my down and fit back in to my life on the beach... it's not hard to get lost in yourself. A schizophrenic life.

But fuck it... I'm turning 19, I have my whole life to pretend to be a city chic.

On my birthday I'll be donning a tie die mini dress and boots and hitting the carnival night life of where I live in my little town in little Cornwall. So it's not Sex and the City, and so I was a little disappointed that it wasn't going to be all glam and stuff but this is who I am. Besides, I hate wearing high heels, even if they are Monolo Blahnik's .... So where's that beach?!

Peace Out.

"Why did I ever let you go?"

It's adorable isn't it? You've sat there through the emotional roller-coaster of a Rom-Com. The leading lady has been through so much. She started off as a single girl, feeling lonely because all her friends are happily in love. She probably has a heart breaking unlucky-in-love background and has excepted that she'll be lonely forever. Then a man comes along. He's usually a beautiful Ryan Reynolds looking guy and she falls in love, he breaks her heart and there's a long, wasted period of time in the film where she's back to being her lonely, single self. At the end the guy comes to his senses and makes a massive show of his love and shouts from the roof tops "WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"

How romantic.

But lets stop and think for a second, because I think I've heard this one before. It's called fiction and no matter how beautiful it sounds coming from Ryan Reynold's mouth, it's just simply not that convenient.

"You don't know what you've got until it's gone" seems to have a catch here in reality. And it's called "gone and lost weight, found a skin matching foundation and invested in a new wardrobe".

But the main question here is: What was wrong with me before? Was it that I was too young; had a few pre-adolescent pimples on my face and hadn't yet discovered frizz-ease shampoo? Because here's a shocker, you weren't that pretty yourself.

I'm still the same load mouth, weird and awkward girl that you dated before. And if none of that bothers you, then the reason we broke up, isn't because "it wasn't the right time" or you were "really bogged down with work" but because I just wasn't pretty enough. And now, because according to you I am, I'll get a text message from you declaring (quietly) "WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"

How romantic.

Really, I mean it, I'm thrilled. It's not like I've moved on, grown up and totally forgot we ever dated. Honestly!

At the end of the day, this is just going to cause an awkward situation, ruin the friendship we built up over time and waste a whole evening, dedicating carefully selected words to letting you down in the nicest possible way after you dumbed me on my ass the first time round.

How romantic...