Thursday, 24 March 2011

Who's that girl, running away from me...

Well, shiver me timbers, splice me mainbrace and split me beaver, I gives up on even attempting to show interest in Pretties now!

As all know, I am the shyest of shyfolk, and the thought of approaching some Pretty and talking with them one-to-one is a most terrifying prospect! And so I remain within the confines of my barricade of friends, engaging in lecherous banter and much digitary dexterity of the Rik Mayall persuasion (or legging it to the safety of the Dance Floor if a Pretty dare approacheth the group).

However, it seems even that is too much these days!

Apparently, if a single, hetrosexual male finds a member of the opposite sex attractive, and innocently asks who they are, it can be classed as Sexual Harassment!! It's PC gone mad. Or Laptop gone mad. Or something.

And people wonder why I don't chats up women*!

As if anyone could accuse me of Sexual Harassment! If anything, I'm a total void of sexual harassment, hence the singlature of status and lack of a Pretty of my own.

And now, I can't even ask the identity of unknown Pretties, for fear of being put on registers of pervosity for daring to even think of Pretties as potential partners!

And on top of all that, comparative portaiture identification to enable clarification via visual medium between two people is also verboten!

And for those who say "Oh Xym, there's someone out there for everyone. Even you. There's plenty more fish in the sea!", I, for one, am not going to acknowledge such accusations of aquatic beastiality! Apart from the fact that there aren't more fish in the sea coz it's been overfarmed by quota-abusings foreigners, who want to cop off with watery fishfolk?

Sure you can take a manatee to a matinée, but you wouldn't want to get amourous in the back row with some great big fat whale**, would you!

I can't do anything right these days! Oh waily, waily, woe and misery!

* NOT that that means I chats up men. Heavens no!!! Oh well, just have to remain lecherously leering at the back of nightclubs then, and hope that someone has a penchant for short fat gothboys with preposterous hair and ludicrous shades! Well, anything's possible...

** And as the great big fat whale in question, I can attest to the fact that many a sexy cinema siren seated alongside has no wish to grapple in amourous engagement with lardy tub-buckets. Although that could be down to the presence of partners, whose presence prevents Pretties ravishing me in the aisles. See - I'm all up for being Sexually Harassed meself!