Back in the saddle

As Ronan Keating of Boyzone fame so famously opined, life is a roller-coaster. I think my life would be the Corkscrew from Alton Towers. There aren't just ups and downs, there are loop-di-loops too.

I met up with my old friend Dave, the roofer, yesterday to watch his beloved Chelsea beat Arsenal in the FA Cup semi-final. I know my excellent follower Mess is also a fan of the Blues and it was partly down to his Tweets of advice that I came to reasses my freidnship with Dave - I've said a few negative things about Chelsea recently, but I'm a slave to my emotions. Thankfully, both Dave and Mess understand me, probably a little bit better than I understand myself.

Mind you, Dave said a few more things about Gill that I'd rather have not heard. But that's all water all the bridge as far as I'm concerned. I definitely didn't want to see the pictures of her on his phone, but we're all adults here and besides it was important to bond again with Dave, man to man, as it were.

For a man of limited formal education, Dave certainly knows a thing or two about life and the fairer sex. Dave suggested that the best thing for me to do now was get back out there. "There's noffin like it Bawrry. When you fall off yer bike, you back on dontcha?!" he said.

Indeed, Dave's views on life are also shared by the excellent blogger Cowboy Bob who says, if you fall off your horse, you need to get right back in the saddle.

Dave reckons Amber needs to see that I'm desirable to other women before she'd consider my advances further, "if they can smell desperation, they'll run a mile," Dave told me. And there's an element of truth in that statement. I think I was too keen with Amber, I laid my cards on the table, and that's not what women want. Sure they want to be pursued, showered with gifts, such as flower and chocolates, and sports cars and diamond rings, but they're complicated creatures. There's more to cracking a woman's heart than material possessions.

I know it's not very PC to say so readers, but it's simple biology. It's all about the survival of the fittest. If a woman thinks she's the fittest, she feels 'special'. And how does she feel fittest? Simple, she collars another woman's man.

With that in mind, I've decided to sign up to get some Internet Love. There are plenty of sites out there. A little bit of something for everyone. I carried out an extensive Internet search. Do you know, if I wanted to, I could order a wife from Russia or Thailand today. It really is as easy as that, but you can't be sure that what you see in the pictures is what you'll end up with in the flesh. And, anyway, they're only after getting their hands on a British passport.

I sent my details into a popular broadsheet's online dating service. Obviously, I've been a little bit creative with the details. But essentially what I've said is true. Here's my online dating persona:

Name: Barry
Occupation: Home entertainment executive/Writer
Contact: Barry.Newsdesk@googlemail.com
Twitter: @barrynewsdesk
Description: Tall, witty, handsome, charming, romeo with own flat in South London.
Likes: Politics, music, poetry, cookery, travelling, long walks in the country and even longer nights in front of the fire!
Dislikes: Whinging and nagging.
Looking for: Friendship and possibly more ;-)
Would like to meet: Athletic, bohemian, creative, lady, under 30 pref, send picture.

I think it's only fair to request a picture, I know what I'll get is likely to be a be a fairly complimentary number, but it should at least let me filter out the howlers.

It goes witout saying readers, if you know any single chicks looking for a bright guy who knows how to show a girl a good time point them in my direction.

Newsdesk out.
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