On mank

On mank

I am a slightly overweight, happily married male in his early forties.

However, I have - in the name of research and the prospect of getting a cheap laugh - put contact ads on various dating websites pretending to be a woman of varying degrees of morality, mankiness, desperation and number of limbs to find out what level mankind will stoop to get a shag.

Result: very, very low.

I also did not realise it is considered de rigueur to send a cock shot with the first email.

Even promises of long country walks don't put them off. Nobody with an ounce of romance in their bodies goes for long country walks. The only people who do this invariably take a shovel and return alone.

For example:

"Cuddly single mum, skin condition, seeks open-minded male for cuddles and joint therapy. Must like cats and active kids!"

Cocks everywhere, and a tranny.

And:

"Spoiled bitch only wants you for your money. No plebs."

Dozens of plebs. And cocks. Never-ending spirit-sapping cocks.

And:

"Brenda, 50, Leytonstone. Gagging for it. Hot, messy, outdoor unprotected back-door action guaranteed on first date while husband films. Looks, experience not important. No fees, guaranteed"

Result: "Your mailbox has exceeded its capacity. Older mails will be deleted within 48 hours."

Your average web-based pervert is not, I find, put off by raging sarcasm. My most popular fake advert read simply:

"Wanted: Man, o.n.o."
More cocks. I gave up soon after.

The things I do for this blog. Sometimes I question my own sanity.

I am not mad. I think.