Bad Romance

If you and I wrote a bad romance, what would be in it? I’m sure we could write one. I’ve had enough bad dates to be able to bring a significant amount of ‘research’ to the project.  I reckon if we did have a bad romance, eggs would feature quite heavily in it. The romance would probably start in an abattoir or a tattoo parlour. I’d be getting a packet of tampax tattooed on my upper arm.  I’d felt left out cos everyone in work had a ‘tat’. That’s what you’d call it. A ‘tat’.  That would piss me off immediately.

We’d go for a meal, at a carvery, even though you know I’m vegetarian.  You’d have a wee next to the table. You’d forbid me from saying the word ‘romp’.  You would say it gave you horrific flashbacks from when you saw ‘The boat that Rocked’. You’d have a point, but just mentioning that film would piss me off. Seeing the cover of that film in the video shop ruined my day yesterday. The boat that sucked a big fat dick. At some point in the date you’d probably cry. You’d tell me some long-winded tale about how you got Legionnaire’s disease on holiday in Corfu with your ex-girlfriend. You’d mention her quite a lot and say that she looks like Jennifer Aniston. You’d mention that you had the shits very badly. I’ll imagine you having the shits. The image will haunt me for three and a half months. I was also eating when you mentioned it. You won’t take off your crag hopper anorak throughout the date.

Later on in the romance you’d wear a jump suit. Constantly. You’d say ‘It makes my arse look like J-Lo’. You mean Joe Longthorne. His arse is nearly as amazing as Sisquo’s.  You will let me see your thong and you will also dump like a truck. In view of Lord Rhomboid. You absolute tease. You would cover the walls of my house with painted ‘proverbs’ in italics like ‘There are no strangers, only friends we are yet to meet’ and ‘if you want to drink longer, come earlier or ask for a bigger glass’ and ‘My jeans are very snug around the gentleman’s arena’.

What a bad romance. Perhaps we shouldn’t get off with each other at the local underage disco? Yes, I know you arranged it after Science class, but come on, it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good. I’m sorry, but the boat that rocked is a truly awful film. And I’ve got an appointment for Wayne Carriger to touch my arse at 9.15 at the community centre.