instagramBloglovinfacebooktwitterPinterestemail

20131108-103033-pm.jpgYou have probably heard me talk about culling people out of my life before.  I like to have a new start every now and again.  This week was no different.  58 numbers have been culled from my phone.  Prawn cocktail man – gone.  ( I seem to remember that he was called Prawn cocktail man as he had sent me a pic of his cock beside a pringles tube.  No it didn’t measure up) Pretty hair boy- gone.  (Cannot remember his pretty hair- was I being ironic?!) Tom Tinder- gone.  Tom Tinder London- gone.  Tom Tinder, Kings Road London- gone.  Tom Tinder, blue eyes, London – gone.  ( Is everyone hot called Tom now?!?)

 

I do feel I have to say at this point that the 58 numbers were not obtained this week alone from tinder. We might have dated, we might have dated frequently, I may have met you pissed in a club, nevertheless if you aren’t a fixture in my life now-  you’re probably outtttta here/ saved in my filofax incase I regret the culling.  I was cut throat: deleting like a mad lady any number that meant nothing to me.  FYI I have frequently in the past regretted my new starts and re-added numbers, filofax gives me new start security.

But for one number it wasn’t quite so easy.  He failed every single one of my culling test questions meaning he too should have been cast to iphone history dust.  Not part of my new start.

1.  Are we talking now?  2.  Do I want to talk to him?  3.  Could he be my POTL?  No. No. No.  Automatic deletion.

But as I looked at him, all however many numbers are in a mobile number him, I just couldn’t delete it.  Even after a haribo cola bottle packet ( family sized obvs) which was supposed to give me strength to man up and cull him away.

Sure, he messed me around a bit.  But I gave as good as I got and I wasn’t nice to him.  He did some things that I didn’t particularly like, nor respect at the time.  But again, I think I am guilty.  ( Friends say I am massively guilty in this instance and he actually was not a cock).  But, with this guy I had high hopes for him, I just wasn’t perhaps man enough to say- You make me not want to sick in my mouth when I see you.

He was different.   He wasn’t like my other drongos.  He challenged me.  He made me smile, he was intellectual and independent, too.  And truth be told, most times my phone goes off, I hope it is him.  Even though it often isn’t.

So what have I done with this knowledge?  Nothing.

That is without a doubt the best course of action.  Right?  I can’t go feminine and say- Organise for us to go out for a date soon please!!

With my tactic when he finally does realise that I am actually an ok person, he will text me and we will live happily ever after.  And best of all because I have got his number saved I wont have to reply to his message saying- “Hey, sorry who is this? I lost all my numbers” like I am having to currently do to every Tom, Dick, Tom, Tom, Tom and Harry who is currently texting me.

Leave a Reply