10 reasons why men with fluffy hair are superior

Hunky Dory

Men with fluffy hair are superior to men with short, gelled or no hair. Fluffy hair sings of mystery, prosperity and a healthy disrespect for authority. Here are some other facts about men with massive hair.

1. They often use their hair to smuggle drugs into foreign countries – not to make money, just to show that they can do it.

2. They’re called Boris Johnson, sometimes.

3. 9 times out of 10 they are adorable scamps with a mischievous sense of fun, like naughty Labrador puppies. The other tenth of the time they are just students who can’t afford haircuts.

4. Their hair actually filters the air around them, making it fresh, fragrant and safe to breathe. If you breathe in fluffy-hair-filtered air you will reap the following health benefits: strong teeth and bones, increased libido and immortality.

5. Their hair can be used to codify top-secret messages – for example, swept to the left = meet me in the pub in 30 minutes. Swept to the right = count to ten then detonate explosive.

6.  They can breathe underwater. There are entire kingdoms underwater filled with fluffy-haired men, otherwise known as the Neptunion Nestheads. One day they will rise from the water and take all our women to help them repopulate the oceans with Mer-people.

7. They look amazing with damp hair. It flops all over their foreheads like wet bread.

8. When they first wake up in the morning, it sticks in more directions than a splintered fingernail. The more he pats and prods it the bigger and more unruly it gets, like a starfish with a thousand self-replicating legs. Sit back and watch it grow.

9. They are incredibly trustworthy, because they take your secret and store it in their head-nest. It will stay there, unploughed, until he forgets about it entirely 5 minutes later.

10. If you ask them nicely they might let you touch their hair. Prepare to be eroticized.


How to be titillating and mysterious

We have discussed this Rick: No hanky panky

If you wish to interest and impress people then it is incredibly important to appear as mysterious as possible in all situations. Mystery doesn’t come easily to every woman; no, it is far more tempting to doctrine every minuscule detail of your personal life in an online blog for everyone to read. Using this personal anti-expertise as a foil, I will now endeavour to guide you on how to be titillating and mysterious, supplementing each tip with a personal example for clarity.

1. Never boast. Rather, sprinkle no more than a tangy hint of an achievement or accomplishment you wish to highlight into a conversation, so that the other person prompts you for more information. Try to look modest if you can, then tell them briefly about your scientific discovery / recent coronation, and beg the listener not to tell anyone – “It’s such a trifle really”. This will make the listener think “Ah, if that is a trifle then imagine what else she gets up to” and the rumour mill will start to churn. For example, when in Rome last week an Italian male asked me “So, do you travel a lot?” I said “Well, I lived in Spain for 3 months, but it flew by – such a trifle really”. Sadly he then began to ask me questions in Spanish (easier than English apparently) and so I resorted to an enigmatic smile and a lot of sage nodding (I didn’t pick up much Spanish during my trip although did become an expert at pointing and waving). The Italian male was intoxicated by my mystery, evidenced by his blank, confused gaze.

2. Use metaphors and similes to conceal your personality, motives and general beliefs. Last week at a party some poor misguided soul was chatting to me about his huge salary. I responded “Ah yes, money. Money, I have found, is like a grasping whore – it begs to be spent and yet when you try to switch banks it forms a paper-thin noose around your neck. Move and you will tear the notes. Stay and you will be trapped forever in her clutches.” I then wandered off, trailing mystery and dementia in my wake.

3. Don’t have sex. Ever. Having sex removes the very last boundary between you and another person and you will never be mysterious again. Ever heard of Kate Middleton shagging someone who isn’t William? (She may not even shag him – taking care of that mane of hair is a full-time job by all accounts.) I myself have not had sex for several centuries; I can tell because I am climbing the walls and snarling angrily at couples in the street. Chastity does have its rewards though, once you circumnavigate the waves of biological bewilderment, frustration and fury that come hand in hand. #sexrage

4. Never finish a sentence. Trailing off at the end of the sentence creates intrigue, as the listener always assumes that you have forgotten what you were saying because something far more exciting has caught the edge of your mind. It also spares the need to have a story to tell, as you are leaving that part to the listener. To master the perfect trail-off, practise on your pets: “Rover, I’ve been meaning to tell you about the time I went to Thailand and such a strange thing happened… I’ve never been the same….” Then wander off looking thoughtful. You may well be talking about food poisoning but Rover does not need to know this.

5. Follow the stars. Watch millions of classic films like Roman Holiday, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, basically anything with Audrey Hepburn, Ingrid Bergman or Grace Kelly in it – these people drip with intrigue. Think to yourself, “What would Humphrey Bogart say in this situation?” then say the exact same thing. For example:

Friend: “Mary this is my friend Robert. He’s a big fan of your blog.”

Me: “Of all the gin joints in all the bars in all the world, you have to walk into mine.” Follow up with a despairing look and order a large whiskey. If Robert looks scared, reassure him by saying “I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship” then take his arm and wander off into the fog together.

Top tips on how to bag a Prince (take note, Pippa)

Hold on tight

Ever since Pippa Middleton broke up with her long-term boyfriend Alex Loudon back in November, I’ve been dying to see her hook up with the other eligible prince. How fitting would it be for both Middleton sisters to join ‘the firm’ together?

Pippa, here is your exclusive guide on how to bag Harry:

1. Wear your bridesmaids dress every day to remind him of your lovely bottom. Never wash it so it doesn’t lose its ‘wedding’ aura.

2. Follow him round all day every day so he doesn’t forget you exist. Even to Afghanistan where you can use your white bridesmaids dress to reflect the sun and blind his enemies.

3. Tell him every day how much you love ‘Gingers’, munching ginger nuts and carrots and raving about Mick Hucknall until you are blue in the face.

4. Pretend that you love people who dress up as Nazis because it’s “totes amusing”

5. Kill Chelsy Davy. Obviously.

6. Wear glass slippers everywhere, even in strong sunshine which will probably cook your feet in their little greenhouses. Men love helpless women who can’t walk.

7. Hypnotize small animals so that they fly around your head chirping all day. Men love women who are in tune with nature, it is extremely Princessy – unless the birds poo on you, then they must be assassinated.

8. Eat a poisoned apple and lie writhing in pain on his doorstep until he rescues you and snogs you senseless. IMPORTANT: Ensure Harry is not off fighting in Afghanistan when you are curled up in agony at the palace gates.

9. Prick your finger on a spindle and pretend to fall into a deep sleep. When he finds you looking angelically unconscious and naturally tries to take advantage,  ‘wake up’ and explain that now he has to marry you or else you’ll tell the press what a naughty boy he is.

10. Tell him you are actually a mermaid (red-headed, natch) with limited time left to live on land. Tell him that unless he wants you to return to live under the sea with your controlling father and lose your lovely bottom under the nasty green fish scales, he must marry you to break the sea-witch’s spell. If he is disbelieving, accuse him of being ‘unprincely’ – Princes hate this. If he calls the men in white coats, put both your legs into one leg of a pair of green tights and gabble about not being able to breathe without gills – this will ensure a nice long stay in the asylum which would look terrible for the royal family.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Me after 6 weeks without Veet

One day my eyebrows will meet my legs and I will look like a hobbit being swallowed by a malignant forest. Until that day – when I will be able to steal food from bins masquerading as a raccoon (exciting) and camouflage myself from predators by standing in front of dense foliage – every week will remain a riot of plucking and waxing and shaving, because, really, no man wants to date someone whose eyebrows he has to part to give her a good snog.

The only issue I really have with waxing – apart from the blinding pain and involuntary screaming obviously – is the expense of it all. A box of decent wax strips is £5 a pack. If you wax your legs once a month (you will need 2 packs if you have carpet-legs) that will cost you £10; that’s £120 a year on ripping hairs from your legs! I am not at all into S&M so this seems a bit pricey to me.

Now no woman wants to look like she is wearing a womble suit on her first date, but perhaps we should start taxing menfolk – especially as many of us women are paying our share of the meal and drinks these days. As he pushes the bill towards you with shining eyes, reaching for your thighs, let me surmise: Push your Veet receipt right back at him and say “This is your womble tax, which I will waive if you pay for dinner, or if you show me a really nice picture of a surprised guinea pig.”

A bear affair

Infinitely shaggable

I love bears, especially big furry noble ones. Bear fur is better than human fur because it is all coarse and lovely and you can run your fingers through it without getting wafts of scented shampoo up your nostrils. Here are some other advantages of being a bear:

1. You look really scary and really cuddly at the same time, so other females fear you and men respect you but also want to shag you.

2. Your body hair is thick and warm and so provides a perfect nesting place for insects and parasites which can be picked out and eaten in the absence of regular meals.

3. You are a natural chameleon. If you burgle a house and the owner returns before you’ve finished, lie flat on the floor and pretend to be the carpet. If they have laminate flooring, shit on the doormat and escape out the back while they swear and clean it up.

4. Bear fur is a notoriously good insulator. Sleep in the loft and you will reduce your energy bills by 60 percent.

5. Bears live in the woods. Woods are full of elves and pixies and witches with whom you can form friendships and have adventures. This may provide inspiration for a well-loved Children’s story, which you will have to get the elves to write because you’ve got massive fuck-off claws and non-opposable thumbs.

6. Bears look slow and heavy but are actually bloody fast. Partake in the bear Olympics and bring home a Gold medal. Collect enough over your lifetime and you will be able to melt them all down and make a special bear-mobile with which to chase prey and meet your friends for shopping and cappuccino.

7. Bears are like coat-hangers – they make any outfit look good. Make the most of your frame by wearing tight-fitting lycra at all times. This will also confuse poachers who won’t know whether to shoot you or seduce you.

8. Bears are very intelligent. Several of them have won the Nobel prize, and several more are rarely seen because they are holed up in their laboratories finding cures for rare cancers.

9. Everyone loves bears. If you turned up one day at a well-known London train station with nothing but a cardboard suitcase, some shiny wellies and a floppy hat to your name, you can be sure that a family would take you in and feed you marmalade. Do not shit on the doormat under any circumstances.

10. Every fictional bear that ever was has been a kind and noble animal; Yogi, Iorek, Paddington etc. You have a lot to live up to, but do draw inspiration from the lives of these bears: It is absolutely expected for you to steal, murder and squat in other people’s homes for months on end.

Pre-party email from my Mum

Mum sent the following email today. Half in capital letters, presumably as she got attacked by anti-Catholic visions of “well you know” (see below):

* * *

“Is it the staff do tonight? If so have a great time and remember this:

You do not look attractive when you are drunk – Darcy types will never look twice.

Seriously, people think they have to get very drunk at Christmas parties just because it’s the christmas party.



Do not leave yourself vulnerable Jemima [as in Puddleduck variety]

Your ever-loving neurotically worried Mother.

PS at least this is the last time I’ll be worrying like this, because from next year I’m coming with you.”

“I am half agony, half hope”… Old fashioned values and modern romance

Covered in frog spawn and still smouldering. Mmmmmm

If we lived in a Jane Austen novel, our lives would probably consist of exquisite dancing, mediocre piano playing and the most eloquent declarations of love we’d ever heard on a daily basis. Sadly we do not live in a Jane Austen novel, we live in areas we like/tolerate, go to clubs in said areas with the fewest dead bodies and try to meet nice normal men who we can then like/tolerate for as long as possible. It is really bloody hard to find a Darcy in 2011, so I have compiled a few well-informed guidelines on how to have an Austen affair in a modern nightmare…

1)      Make every man in the vicinity aware of your excellent dancing skills. This can be swinging from the ceiling or swinging from a pole; men don’t care as long as they can see your knickers and believe they might be in with a chance.

2)      Turn him down, and then when he returns from 7 years of sea warfare, gradually lure him back with your niceness and nurse-like qualities. You may have to injure people who you can then be caring to in front of him; to this end, ensure that you carry a selection of small concealable weapons and bandages in your skirts at all times.

3)      Make yourself appear vulnerable. Men love mental women who wander on the moors in thunderstorms then twist their ankles and require saving and carrying away on the back of a horse in between bolts of lightning. When you get home, introduce him to your sister then pass out while she tells him lots of lovely lies about you (Mary is very normal, is entirely teetotal and doesn’t eat much cheese).

4)      Force your sister to elope with a convict with no morals and fewer teeth, then wait for a man to run after them, force them to marry then give them a thousand pounds a year for the rest of their lives. This is a very nice man, try and pull him.

5)      Find a dry man. Throw him in a pond. If he manages to get out all wet and lovely without spluttering and swearing foully, he is probably the one.

Marriage survival tips

It's that time of the month again

Even winter, a season I can usually rely on to match my mood, has now been infiltrated by the glow of a happy couple about to get hitched this weekend. Only kidding, I can’t wait to see my mates get married – but as always I have some expert advice (having been married for several days myself as a child to Mighty Max) on how to survive marriage and keep the flame alive.

1. Don’t talk to each other, ever. This will help to keep the mystery in your relationship.

2. Live in separate houses. Tim Burton and Helena Bonham Carter live on opposite sides of the road to each other and find that this keeps their sanity in check. Look how normal they are.

3. Don’t have children. They will get in the way when you’re trying to snog.

4. Get a pet so you have someone to talk to while he’s finding his slippers / she’s ironing the curtains.

5. Make a list of rules for the other to follow, but don’t tell them what they are. For example “Buy me two dozen roses every time I see a hedgehog.” He should know.

6. Collect his toenail clippings from the living room carpet and make him a surprise jelly for dessert with delicious crescent-shaped sprinkles. Personal and creative.

7. Use her magazines and shoes (who needs 50 pairs anyway?) to build a ferocious bonfire in the hallway. This will make her fall in love with you all over again as she remembers how masculine and fearless you are.

8. Use the cat as leverage during arguments, for example “How dare you swear in front of Fluffy, this is yet another example of your selfishness. Apologise to Fluffy or no hanky panky.”

9. Relive the wedding day once a month. Put on your wedding dress and sit at a  long table with the remains of your wedding cake and the deflated balloons and wilted flowers. Men love the Miss Haversham look. If your friends begin to shun you, put your cat on the guest list. If the cat shuns you, invite your Mum.

Why women love moustaches

Be still my beating heart

As if millions of crap moustaches across the UK weren’t already making us women horribly aware of the Movember cause, now I’m going to add to it with my comprehensive list of reasons why women lust for moustaches.

1. They are all hairy and will give you a nasty rash if you get too close. This will give your face a lovely mottled effect so you will blend in with the mouldy curtains in the library.

2. They omit the need for doggy bags as they store bits from every meal he eats during the day. These can then be hoovered up for supper with your tongue.

3. There are at least 50 well-known moustache wielding icons from down the ages. This is the closest most of us women will get to shagging a famous person. Jump on it!

4. Moustaches are very pullable.

5. Moustaches are very flammable.

6. They make men feel more manly, so we get a break from constantly reassuring them that their muscles are big, etc. However this may be replaced with reassurances that their moustache isn’t wonky etc. Stretch the truth as required.

7. It gives you something to hold onto during bumpy rides.

8. Every man you know will grow one during Movember – a great way for us to spend all those spare millions we have lying around in the run up to Christmas.

9. Moustaches hide about 30% of your man’s face. There is much to be said for this.

10. The larger your man’s moustache, the less noticeable yours will be. Conversely, if you insult his moustache, he may well insult yours.

The Picasso art of dating

The pie of appreciation

Dating is a fine art, a true art and a messy art. Picasso art if you choose to enjoy the experience, a screaming toddler finger painting in your blood if you have all your senses intact.

I myself quite enjoy going on dates, but only because they tend to descend into the usual glorious chaos which gives colour and shape to my days.

Date One: The Cage-fighter. I met Cage-fighter by accident when I fell over him backwards at a bar in town. He accepted my unique introduction and caught me before I hit the floor, and a few hours later we were conversing richly (snogging) in a grotty club with my enduring friend Jo looking on and wishing she’d never met me. Our conversations were remarkable, as neither of us understood what the other was saying; Gareth spoke at length about his cage-fighting and I spoke at length about niche crime fiction and guinea pigs, and neither of us took the least notice of the other which led to several days of bliss.

Date two: The Bleeding Spaniard. The Bleeding Spaniard was a personal trainer at a private girls school. I agreed to meet him for cocktails after work following our initial introduction. He was late for our date, but not as late as I was. While my excuse was a sale at Mango, he had been in a car crash and, despite considerable bleeding from the neck, he had still come to meet me. I admired his commitment as I dabbed at his wounds with a screwed up Mango receipt, and later bought him his first British pie in appreciation.

Date Three: The Strapping American. The Strapping American seemed to find my distinctive brand of madness endearing, and continued to see me even once he discovered that, by some horrendous coincidence, he lived in the same building as my ex. Tom worked out a lot, weighed approximately twice as much as me and must have been at least triple my height. This meant that I developed a steady relationship with his kneecaps, and he still stays in touch and speaks fondly of the top of my head even though he is currently back in the states. Tom was mugged and burgled within a few weeks of meeting me, but this is probably because he is a Strapping American and stood out like a sore, rich thumb in Reading.