The online dating profile is gone. Sad. And not at all sad. But we had some good times, that profile and me. Or at least a hell of a lot of laughs. My page was decently written. Which, by Okcupid standards, just means that my answer to “what I’m doing

Let me begin by clarifying: when I say “cheap dates”, I do not mean people. Any guy who clicked on this in hope of discovering a list of people who wear panties with easy access labels, stop reading. Go hold open some doors or reach stuff off top shelves and

I’m posting my profile to give you the option of making fun of me back. If this is the first time you’re hearing about Tinder, I promise it won’t be the last, especially if I have your phone number. About a month ago I accidentally pushed the wrong button and

Cross economic divides and magic can happen… I’m a cheapskate. So are most of my friends. But sometimes, conversations about how crazy it is that the price of the supermarket toilet roll has gone up 50c get boring. I don’t want to sell my soul to someone who’ll take me

In the last few days, I’ve stumbled across at least five articles entitled “things all twenty-somethings should know”. And I’ve hated all of them. It’s not just that they’re patronizing, or saccharine, or written by someone who is sickeningly smug in the knowledge that one day we’ll all end up

So close, yet so far. I’ve been in Brooklyn for 5 days now, and I have yet to eat a normal meal. Unless you count pizza, and my very English mother would disown me if I did. It’s not just that I’m broke, or culinarily challenged. There’s also a rabbit

If this doesn’t convince you, then IDK. I’m fucking broke, man. I’m broke. And Groupon/Lifebooker/whatever discount website is trendy right now, is not REALLY an app or a website, it is an addiction. In the perpetual quest for Patrick Bateman-style physical perfection that is this Hollywood life, I find myself