Romance Is Dead

I used to know two men. Let’s call them Twat A and Twat B.

Twat A was very good looking and used to get a lot of attention from women.

 Twat B wasn’t blessed with looks. Or a personality. He was actually, a twat.

 Twat A and Twat B used to go out to some shithole in Windsor where the Karaoke was loud and the beer was cheap.

Twat A would find a girl he fancied, buy her a drink and go in for the kill. Women always liked him because he was good looking, well groomed and quite charming (if you like that sort of thing, I never fell for it because I usually prefer the pissed up one starting a fight in the corner).

The woman would fall for Twat A’s charms and after a while, he’d invite her over to meet his friends on the other side of the room.

This is where Twat B would step in. 

Twat A would excuse himself to go to the loo, and while he was there, Twat B would tell the woman that Twat A was only talking to her so he would get a shag; that he had no interest in her at all and certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship. His friend, he would say, did this all the time and he was just trying to warn her so she didn’t get hurt.

So, what does the woman do? Does she a) say “cheers bruv, I’ll give that tosser a swerve then” and head off to have fun with her friends or does she b), get all insecure and pouty and demand to speak to Twat A when he returns from his loo visit?

Of course it’s b. It’s always fucking b, and dickheads like Twat A and Twat B know it.

Never in the history of the world has a woman heeded a warning that a man she has known for twenty minuets while drunk is a wanker, especially if she finds him really attractive.

So their plan continues.

“Your mate says you just want to fuck me? Is that right?” Says the woman to Twat A.

“What?” Says Twat A in an oscar worthy performance with big, doe eyes, “Why would he say that? Oh my God, I can’t believe it. It’s because I told him that I really, really like you. I told him I felt a connection with you and so he’s trying to fuck it up. He’s jealous because you are so beautiful. I’m going to go and tell hi-“

“No!” Interrupts the simpering woman, who has let us all down by believing this idiot, “leave it, it’s okay.”


He might have had a good chance at shagging her anyway, but he cemented it by pretending to be the chivalrous, hurt little prince. He made her feel special and in doing that got what he wanted.

Clever little bastard.

But wait, it gets better.

Right after they fuck he starts to cry and tells her that he’s never done that before. He doesn’t know what came over him – this isn’t what he does. He just felt such a connection between them that it felt right.

That was guaranteed to reel her in for another shag, and another, until he got bored of her.

And when he gets bored of her, he blames her for shagging him on the first date.

They were a right pair of fuckwits, but women fell for it, week after week. 

Oh and what did Twat B get out of it? Nothing, he was gay and in a long term relationship anyway. Twat A just bought him drinks all evening.

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