Thursday, November 09, 2006

Spinsters everywhere!

(Explanation: if you have just stumbled upon this blog, the following post is the 200th, and what follows is several people taking the piss mercilessly out of the blog. By invitation. Like me, but funny.)

LC said...

The Time I Met a Bloke
I sort of thought I might fancy him, or perhaps not.
I don't know. Twat.
(Do I win a fiver?)

The Murphmeister said...

Peter Stringfellow?

Kellycat said...

X was scruffy and skinny. We snogged at the end of the night. We exchanged numbers. We dated once. He had a strange sexual fetish. Then it turned out that he already had seven wives, one of whom was in the freezer.

Dave said...

Dave: not tall, slightly overweight, not really scruffy.
*would not*
Which is OK, because he's frightened of you.

Betty said...

Hunchback Guy worked as the caretaker at a place I temped at.
He was 57, incredibly pockmarked, had a hump, used to spit clumps of phlegm up into a hankie and had an obsession with Victorian agricultural machinery. However, there was definitely something foxy about him.
He had steely blue eyes.
Anyway, at the end of my six months working there they had a leaving do for me and we got stuck into the drinks.
One thing led to another, and me and Hunchback Guy ended up snogging the face off each other. It was getting really steamy.I was so confident that he fancied me that I actually plucked up the courage and ASKED FOR HIS PHONE NUMBER for fuck's sake.
"Sorry luv, you're twenty eight which is a bit old for me" he said, and turned on his heels.
What the FUCK was that all about then?
When I left to get a taxi later I saw him snogging the face off the sevnteen year old office junior.
I mean ... sheesh.

Changetta said...

'Your ex looked like Brad Pitt' sighed a friend the other day.
It's true.Which is why I give my number to every manky, crippled, diseased person in a fifty mile radius.And they never call.
Does my life make sense? - Does it fuck.
Am I happy being a spinster - truly. No, really. I am. I AM. I promise.

GreatSheElephant said...

I don't need to pretend to be you. I am you, just older and more depressed.But just to get in the spirit of things:
He was bald, sweaty, with strangely staring eyes and had veins sticking out everywhere.
*but a very long time ago*

Robert Swipe said...

Curse you Betty - you stole my idea....so....

Stephen: The Maudlin Mancunian Singer-songwriter.

His name was Stephen and I used to queue for the dole with him back in the 1980s.* He was a skinny, scrawny, geeky type who wore outsized blouses from Evans, beads, NHS specs and a hearing aid. Occasionally gladioli or a small bush would hang from the back pocket of his baggy faded jeans.
Anyway, after months of nervously squirming at one another as we were queuing up for our dole money (he'd never had a job because he never wanted one...) I finally plucked up courage to ask him out.
We were in a darkened underpass -I thought, "my God, my chance has come at last...)"
Would you like to come 'round to my house and I can read you my Jonathan Coe novels while you tuck into a really huge Norn Irish fry up - bacon, sausages, liver....the works...?)
Before I could grab him by the gilded beams, he'd cycled off to a hillside desolate with a tattoed boy from Birkenhead who really, really opened his eyes...
Please keep me in mind....*sigh**
Historical note for younger readers: the 1980s saw record levels of unemployment casued by.....well, Thatcher, basically..also, a certain amount of poetic license has been used to locate the 1 year old Spinny in the same historical timeframe as the lead singer of the Smiths....
**Historical note for literary pedants: Whilst I realise that Jonathan Coe's first novel was not published until 1987......erm, sod off....it works...Here's to the next 200!
Love on ya,

Tim Footman said...

Did I tell you about that time a scruffy fella licked me out by the bins behind Woolies in Daventry and then I lost his number?

First Nations said...

went to a hen-do last evening (yet another of my old school chums getting married)where I danced with a scrawny, veiny guy whom I met later in the porters vestibule for a bit of heavy petting amongst the lettuces (WOULD).
exchanged numbers,he never called,can't remember his name anyway.
*takes bong hit*
I haven't been laid in two years, four months, three weeks, two hours ten minutes and thirty-one seconds......now.
Still I have an exciting and fulfilling career doing something where I earn money, attending music fairs, scavenging for unattended wine, riding in limousines and rebuffing the advances of the interesting and well-spoken men who comment on my blog.
*takes bong hit*
it'll be eleven minutes.....now.since i was laid.ahem.
(i love you, you know XOOfn)

Tedward's Missing Ear said...
ooh! haven't all the men got a bit bitchy. Anyway -

borderline psychotic drug addict whose brother I fancied *did*
Funny nice guy had rip-roaring passion session with thinking "this is it" - he never called.
Not one, not two but three crap boyfriends all of whom ditched me and got engaged to other women within the month.
met friend of a friend in a pub, he seemed nice, called when he said he would, got engaged after 3 months, now married 7 years. Still happy.
Basically Spinny they're all shite until you meet the right one. Don't give up hope (although I have to confess it wasn't until I had given up hope and stopped looking that I met the One)

Geoff said...

He had two of those hulking great bulging veins that ran all the way from both temples, down both sides of his neck, meeting in a 'V' at his sternum, then one thick vein running down the middle of his flat muscular stomach, all the way down to the taut downy flesh at the top of his jeans.
He was naked from the waist up and his whole torso was throbbing along to the beat.
I forced my way to the front of the audience and saw he was barefoot. Both feet had 2 inch diameter veins which pulsed along to the bassline. The sweat flew off his floppy fringe and drenched me from head to toe as his long bony fingers expertly pressed the strings of his guitar.
At the climax of the song his voice went up an octave. It was an octave too far as the vein in his right temple burst and he fell to the floor in a heap.
I rushed onto the stage and took him in my arms. He looked me straight in the eye with faraway eyes.
"*would*" he mouthed, as his lifeblood ebbed away.

soph said...

So I was dancing away at the indie-folk festival somewhere in a field, bridesmaid's dress trailing in the mud and bottle of wine in hand. And there he was, in all his sweaty, veiny, mullet-y glory.
*dated a couple of times until he thought we were getting too serious*
*reminisced about online*
*realised he was a bit creepy*

realdoc said...

I met this guy at the bus stop. He was perfect, slightly soiled, bespectacled, bit of a limp. *would*. Anyway during the bus journey we planned our future together, he was *the one*.
Then he got off the bus, never saw him again.

GreatSheElephant said...

I fancy another shot
*or did I?*
*OK, actually I didn't*
*would though*

Chaucer's Bitch said...
fuck me this is hilarious. sorry, i just can't top anything that's been said already.

Billy said...
I'd like to join in, but I'd never be as good. I do have one question though, who invented *would*?
The Murphmeister said...
I think it's an expression from the porn industry billy.
10:32 AM

surly girl said...

went to the fair. i was wearing a vintage hi-de-hi uniform (original su pollard costume) that i found in the british heart foundation shop down the road. whilst being spun on the waltzers, i noticed that the grubby, skinny bloke in the filthy jeans who was spinning the car was flicking his tongue at me really suggestively.
*would*, i thought, as i swigged from the bottle of white lightning i'd nicked off that tramp (well he was unconscious. twat).
half an hour later, as the waltzers boy staggered off to his caravan, i adjusted my tabard and sighed. this was definitely it. did he ever call?
did he fuck. stupid fucking pikey.
still, once i'd apologised to the tramp for nicking his cider, we got on like a house on fire. he's the one! result!
[love you spinny]

What can I say? You guys are all awesome - virtual fivers all round. Allthough Betty, do I actually Know you? Specifically, did I know you in the Summer of 1995? That story sounds awfully familiar.


  • Still, good to have the real you back spins.

    By Blogger realdoc, at 4:01 PM  

  • That is a masterpiece Spinny, really, one of the finest things on blogland for a long time. The way that you've done all that research, and painstakingly put it all together...and the veins :) Just marvellous.

    It's wonderful, it's uplifting and literary and mind-opening. I'm going to post a link to it on my blog when I get in.

    Thank you thank you thank you. That's so good in so many ways. And after some bollocks recently about fucking pretentious blogmeets, *this*, what you've just posted, this is what blogging should be like.

    Fantastic. If you were here I'd get your drinks all night.

    By Blogger looby, at 4:57 PM  

  • Oh I see, they're piss-takes!

    Oops! :)

    By Blogger looby, at 6:06 PM  

  • I would use my virtual fiver to take you out for the night and show you a good time, but - you know.

    By Blogger Who is this Dave?, at 9:38 AM  

  • Spinny love can you delete my comments on this thread. I've made myself look like a total knob.

    By Blogger looby, at 4:29 PM  

  • virtual fivers all round..?! ah c'mon! that's up there with the dallas "it was all a dream" brouhaha. what a gyp.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 5:04 PM  

  • Looby, we all have to live and die by our comments. Even the nonsensical ones posted when we were absolutely hammered at midnight on a Saturday when everyone else in the universe is out having a life.

    Don't worry, we don't hold it against you.

    (Back properly when jet-lag wears off)

    PS my word verification is LUVUY - a brummie thesp.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 8:16 PM  

  • Spinsterella is right Looby we all still love you, I personally think especially highly of anyone who writes drink-crazd comments in the middle of the night then immediately retracts them, in fact these are the only comments that should be allowed anywhere. And thank you for directing your readers to this here site... damn fine set of commenters you have here Spinsterella... I would say we now have enough evidence to have that exact use of *would* added to the Oxford English Dictionary, if anyone has Victoria Cohen's phone number to hand at this late hour.

    By Anonymous jonathan, at 11:54 PM  

  • Oooh! Victoria Cohen!


    Thanks Spinny and Jonathan - I appreciate that :)

    By Blogger looby, at 10:11 AM  

  • I can't say for sure who invented the whole *would* thing, but I stole it from the legendary Bob Swipe.

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 4:47 PM  

  • Hahaha, the best thing about this is I landed here after following a link from Looby (gay nazi sex vicar - you know the one). And I've never actually visited your site before. And based on what your readers think you're like, I want to read more.

    Is that a good thing? I think it is.

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