Online Dating with Thomas

Yes, you read that correctly. Everyone’s most-trusted love guru, Thomas, has once again put himself on the market. This time, he tries his hand at internet dating. Valuable lessons are contained within.

About me, your Adonis

Hello, my name is Thomas, pleased to meet you. Thanks for reading my profile, I hope that you find it refreshing to read an honest profile, completely free of boasting and pretention. Allow me to tell you a little about myself.

I am 46 years old and I am a sex-god. I am the most amazing love-deity in known history. If there were a contest for sex gods on Mount Olympus I would definitely be the winner. It’s simply a fact, and a burden that I have to carry to my grave. If, by some crazy luck there were any doubt about my prowess in the bedroom (or indeed on the dance floor), the heathen would be struck down by lightning bolts in the shape of flaming dildos, showing the wrath of my spunky retribution.

The kind of girl I am looking for is the kind who sees past the black-rimmed glasses and recognises the agonising pain of one who so far has been destined to remain alone in life and love, because most mortal women simply cannot handle the Thomasmeister. That’s what I introduce myself as when I’m sliding across the dance floor like a lubed-up, corduroy-clad mongoose, ready to entrap any weary snakes that I may come across.

She must be sexy, tall (at least 4′ 2″), with hair either blonde, brunette, redhead or dyed a strange colour in-keeping with the times, and have a love of all the things the kids are into these days. I am into extreme water-sports, and extreme ironing, at which I am ace. I can do all my shirts (including the starching of the collars) in under three hours, and never once did I use the extra steam thingy on the iron itself.

Also, breasts are a necessity, so please have those. I really want to find out what they look like in real life, and what they feel like. My friend Justin, who I meet in the park to smoke fags with says they can feel like a stress ball, so I’d like to try that out too.

My ideal woman is between 18 and 25, although honestly anyone up to 55 will do. In fact the older the better as they’ll be more proficient at looking after mother, (who spends all of her time in bed, the lazy cow.) Preferably please don’t have kids, as I find them irritating and they smell funny. Unless they are grown-ups, in which case that’s either fine, or very weird (for me, as I would be dating you).

I keep in such good shape by flexing my muscles in the mirror for a minimum of two hours each morning. I do it in my pants, so if you’re lucky enough to hook up with me, you may get to see that.

I am, of course, a gentleman, and I would buy my ideal woman some flowers from the petrol station for our first date at Pizza Hut. I have vouchers. If you don’t like pizza you can always eat the salad. If you don’t drink that’s a plus for me, as the refills on the soft drinks are free.

My interests include:
Disco-dancing and strutting my stuff, my cat Sprinkles, nylon shirts, corduroy, tripping on the cord to my mum’s dialysis machine and eventually plugging it back in, foreign films about girls with big bazookas (and large boobs too.)

So, does this sound like you? Want to take your chances where all others have failed before? You bet your cute bums you do! Write me an email, drop me a message and I’ll make you the envy of your friends. Probably.

I look forward to meeting you, and thanks for reading!

REPLY No.1
You handsome beast.. ok so what do you really look like? I mean without the syrup, the stick on tache, and rubber nose let alone the 1970′s starsky n hutch style of attire and glasses!! If that really is you I do believe under your disguise you are a man of at least 78 years and the nylon corduroy dancing trousers gives the game all away… Bless that man where ever he is .. he looks like a spy from the plot of pink panther.. good grief I need a drink !! XX

REPLY FROM THOMAS
It has been said that I’ve driven women to drink, which I can only assume is a good thing. My friend Justin, who I hang around with outside Tesco smoking B&H Silvers, says that women who drink a lot often let you touch them under their jumpers. As such a sex god, you can imagine that it’s quite a cross to bear when even getting close to women makes them lose control, obviously overcome with repressed sexual urges. They often start screaming uncontrollably and running away from me, which makes me feel like one of The Beatles when they got off the plane in America. I understand that you don’t quite believe that it’s me in the picture, because of the pure handsomeness. But listen, sweet-cheeks, I can assure you that it’s me. I have spent years of my life working on my rugged and buff appearance. My mother says that my moustache is very handsome and reminds her of Tom Selleck in Magnum PI. I don’t know what that is because my television is broken, but he sounds like a stud. When I comb my hair to the side, I look like Gary Oldman in Dracula, but the bit where he is in red armour, not when he’s hanging from the ceiling by his feet, or when he has the hair that looks like a bum. Do you like the idea of Pizza Hut? I went there once with my friend Norman, he swallowed one of his own teeth and had to be given the Heimlich. It flew across the room and landed in someone’s drink, but they didn’t notice and then swallowed it. They needed to be given the Heimlich. You can probably see where this is going.

ANOTHER REPLY
I suppose I am to be impressed you can spell Heimlich(so good you typed it twice).. which I am of course!, If only because most of the jokers on here cant spell “anyfink at all and speshully big or forin werds”.. except of course “babe” they are usually quite good at that one..oink oink wink wink…

ANOTHER REPLY FROM THOMAS
I’m very sorry to have to break this to you, but I’m afraid that I cannot continue emailing you like this. Firstly, you have not left a space between the word “Heimlich” and the open bracket in the first sentence, and you seem to be unaware that an ellipsis has three points, not just two. I am disheartened by this flagrant disregard for our wonderful Mother Tongue, and it’s lucky that we’re not on our first date right now, because I would be forced to throw my pint of Creme de Menthe all down your horrid polyester blouse. GOOD DAY!

REPLY No.2
Hey sexy Fancy showing me some of your Moves

REPLY FROM THOMAS Hello, I read your profile and I must say that I think you fit what I’m looking for almost exactly. I’d say that there is at least a 37.44% chance that we would probably get on well, if you don’t spontaneously erupt into a ball of flame upon meeting someone as mind-blowingly hot as me. I am a big fan of banter, (which we all know is the politically-correct way of saying “I like acting like a twat.”) I am also very into motor bicycles, especially the ones with three wheels. I had one when I was a small boy, growing up in rural Manchester, as I did. I once ran over a pigeon when I was riding shotgun on my friend Justin’s 50cc Yamaha. It sounds like a hairdryer in a wind tunnel, but on the plus side it has a selection of fantastic 80′s drum beats built-in, not to mention the 18 keyboard sounds, which all sounds like a Casio digital wristwatch having a fight with a ferret in a metal dustbin. I like your dress in your picture. My mother has some curtains like that. My cat, Sprinkles, wee’d all over them the other day, and the lazy bitch just got me to clean them rather than doing it herself.

Thomas has told The Lollocaust! that he will continue his search for “The One”, so check back here soon.