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Being almost 40, with no partner for my entire adult life, I feel it's time to once again throw caution to the wind and go on a blind date, to see who I can meet.

I am not very demanding of my future blind date: Be a decent person and be employed full time. I don't want to end up with a raging racist/homophobic person who is broke. Someone who loves to laugh, would also be nice. It doesn't have to be in a restaurant or in a cafe. A walk and talk is much better. Just for an hour, to see if there's chemistry. I am always suggesting meeting in a public place, with lots of people. If there's a second date, it could be in a restaurant or in cafe. Third date could be in the cinema, and the fourth date could be in a theme park.

The time to visit each other in their private homes is only when we both feel like it's the right time to do that. No point in pressuring to meet privately for the first time. You'd want to see if the person you're on a blind date with is sane and not a creepy serial killer like person.

The thing I have heard most from women, going on blind dates - or any date - is that the guy they're meeting won't take no for an answer or are way too creepy. I saw a tiktok about a woman from England who met a guy on a dating app. They agreed to meet, but the guy kept trying to arrange to meet where the woman lived. Naturally, it was a hard no from her side, but the guy didn't catch on.

As you could imagine, meeting up in a public place wasn't his ideal location, because he packed an overnight bag because apparently, he thought he's get lucky with her.

Men like that are the reason why the men, who aren't creeps, get a harder and harder time finding a date. Once, I met someone online, and after a few weeks it was time to meet in person. She said to me "Now you're probably demanding to meet at my place, right?", to which I said "No. I prefer to meet at a public place with lots of people, and if you decide not to pursue this further, that's fine". It only resulted in that first date, which I respected.

I am blabbing on. The point is, that I want to meet someone new. Hopefully that will happen soon.

In other topics: A new movie to my collection. This time, it's a fairly new horror movie, called The Last Voyage of the Demeter. It's a supernatural horror movie based on a chapter in Bram Stoker's novel Dracula, from 1897. The film is, naturally, about Dracula and the terror and horror he inflicted on the Demeter.

It's a fun and very gory time. It's not very creepy, but the creature design can be a bit frightening to younger viewers.

It's also a bit sad at times, and downright depressing at other times, but most of all: It's very good! If you are a fan of supernatural horror movies with lots of blood, give The Last Voyage of the Demeter a view!

When I saw the mess on the pavement I sighed. It is garbage day and my brother-in-law took the dustbin out when he went to work this morning. The bin was on its side and the contents were strewn over the place; luckily mostly in smaller plastic shopping bags, but they were all torn and some of the contents were spilled out.

Among others, a larger bin liner that was filled with old clothes that I had discarded during the week. Most were pulled out through the gaping hole in the side. Bloody dogs, I muttered as I started collecting the clothes.

“I hope you plan to clean up this mess when you’re done,” the voice said behind me. She had a terrible accent. I once met an English couple who spoke like that. They came from Yorkshire. I was pissed off and she did not improve my mood. I ignored her while I carried on with my menial task.

“My friend told me to look out for you vagrants raiding the dustbins and making a mess.” I still kept quiet, hoping she would go away. She disappointed me. “You South-Africans are very messy. I’m from England.”

“Yorkshire?” I asked, but more like a statement than a question.

“Yes, how did you know?” I almost told her I’m psychic but checked myself just in time. It would just have opened another topic for discussion.

“An educated guess”, I said while I righted the dustbin and started putting the bags back in the bin. For the first time I looked at her and wondered why she mistook me for a homeless person.

She was a rather plain Jane and in my slightly faded blue jeans, blue & white striped golf shirt and blue Nikes, I was certainly better dressed than her. My hair was neat; I only had it trimmed yesterday and I was cleanly shaved. Maybe I wore too much blue to her liking. I wondered if she would approve of my red underpants as I opened the gate to go back inside.

“Hey, where are you going?” she asked.

“I live here, do you mind?”

“Is it your house?”

No”, I said. At least that part was true. “The house belongs to an eccentric millionaire and I’m looking after it while he is abroad.”

“They say these eccentric millionaires are very stingy and they dress shabbily. Does he pay you to look after his house?”

“No, but he said that I may wear his clothes while he’s not here.” I don’t even feel guilty about all the lies. My brother-in-law is not a millionaire, he is not abroad and his clothes will be much too large for me.

She stared at me for a few seconds, probably trying to figure if I was serious. “You know, sarcasm won’t get you anywhere”, she said.

“True, but then I was not going anywhere. I’m not dressed for it.”

“Oh!! You are such an a**hole!” she said as she wheeled around on the one heel and sauntered across the road. Only then I noticed what a sexy a** she has. As she entered the granny flat across the road I realized that she was my neighbor's new tenant. Not a good start at all.

life is a game................
A game without winners or losers, or perhaps 'better' said, a game where the winner is the loser, and vice versa, while 'winner' and 'loser', and 'win' and 'lose', did not actually speak

with MOS of land combat arms. Lets face it, oh ye brilliant bloggers, sure, any wench can fly a fighter jet, sit in the con seat of a modern submarine, and command a missle destroyer. perhaps even drive an M1 Abrams or an Israeli Merkava. But come on, your squad is cut to pieces in an ambush after typically questionable Army Intelligence (an oxymoron, if there ever was one), you and some fat little six stone minority affirmative action hottie are all that's left of the unit, and she must drag your shot up tuchas back to cover, while the Seals get the Marine jets to lay their worst day down on the heads of the rag tops. How truly weak is your shiite, corporal? Same with police on dangerous calls. Aa.

You ask me how I became a Madman.
It hahhened thus .One day long before
The Gods were born I woke from a deep sleep
and fond all my masks were stolen.
The seven masks I have fashioned and were in seven lives.

K.G.

Ps. If you can find the book enjoy.

Have even think about how time flies. Time does fly so fast, you can't but help wonder the most wonderful life moments and memories. Especially how you felt when you were little. Going to school making friends while you learn and growing up. As a child growing up my favorite memory was playing on the school playground with my best friends. How I miss those days but we grow up and move on. So what do you like when you were growing up.

I remember back when I was at school....we had a Weasley boy...who was the teachers pet and he always creeped the teacher...

The teachers pet...would always get the register for the teacher and do errands for the teacher..but he was also a wimp...so a loser in many ways...who would also grass up others and those types...always got up my nose...cause grassing was a big no...no in school

Don't tell tales to the teacher....US vs them mentality...Hey teacher leave them kids alone

When parents rap their children up in cotton wool too much and teach them to kiss a** to try to get ahead...it's not going to go un noticed by other students and back then....we did not have the number of snow flakes...the weak minded and emotionally weak...that we have now...not just in schools...but also in universities..

if you have any stories of teachers pets in your school...feel free to share them...or perhaps if you were a teachers pet...you could explain why

Yule is come and Yule is gone,
And we have feasted well!

So Jack must to his flail again
And Jenny to her wheel.

I divorced my first wife around 1990 and we've remained friends all these years.
The marriage wasn't right for, us but her judgement and advice on other issues is extremely accurate. She's usually the first person I call to bounce off an idea to need a second opinion.
I have a step-daughter who is at the top of the list for support.
For both of them, being there for help goes both ways.
Neither of them meddle, but are there for me and should I get a call, I'm ready to help them.

I know most people I'm in contact with are always in a state of friction with their exes. Knowing them and their former mates personalities, I'm surprised they actually married. Well.. I shouldn't be so surprised as s*xual relationships are like library books and have to be returned when the time is up.

For the present, my wife and I have been invited to many extended family parties. They have accepted her and she has accepted them and that's a good thing.


Thanks for reading my blog!
(I thought I had a typo but it's word filtering - you cannot say se*ual on a website for adults)