Trawling the Net

Claiming her 'find love, your money back' from Match.com.

Some of you know that a while a go Chap went 'net dating. It was pretty paltry clench, if you ask me.

One recalls that the vapidity of the things the 'gels 'put of there.

Is it the medium, one wonders? Or those driven to use it? There seems to be an ongoing air headed cheeriness of those that use this - the saccharine smile of the end of pier beauty queen transcribed into two hundred easy words.
If you are considering it - here's a handy primer to help you decipher the sinister wiles the phillies use to try and convince you that they are not desperate heifers who's clock has gone off:

Translation into chap in italics.

I'm an optimist

The pills have kicked in.

I like to treat my glass as half full

or I would cry

I love life!!

I'm desperately boring

I love my alone time!

I have three-alarm PMT

I enjoy everything life throws at me!

The most interesting part of my day is reading the Metro over someone's shoulder

I have a colourful character

I will cook your pets when you leave me

I love Yoga,

Every woman puts this in her profile - they will think I'm weird if I don't

And Pilates,

I have no life

And Keeping fit,

I really have no life

And going to the gym,

save me from the interminable boredom of my own company

And going out for coffee

I have no imagination to invent a lifestyle beyond last night's Sex in the City

I'm active in Politics,

I voted Labour last time and regret it now

I Love environmental issues,

I once signed up to Greenpeace at Glastonbury

I love live music

I listen to Chris Moyles

I love seeing my friends

to cry

I have a travel bug

I went to Australia once

I enjoy my food

I weigh 16 stone

I have a few extra pounds

I am the walrus

I enjoy a drink or two

I will drink lighter fluid

I'm a social smoker

Fag-ash Lil.

I don’t do recreational drugs

My face is on the Bolivian banknote

I'm considering children

I will use a turkey baster if you are not careful.

Any others from my readers?

More Uncle Chap

Dear Uncle Chap,

I have increasing begun to notice that some of my circle have not been able to find new jobs (after redundancy). The credit crunch has rendered others unable to re-mortgage & are presently selling their properties.

All & all, I am find my life depleted through their sudden lack of means to socialise. I was wondering if you could advise how I can begin to quickly generate some new friends?

Anon

Dear Anon (I know who you are AND where you live...)

I have found the following to be most advantageous:

1. Improve your personal hygiene routine.

2. Give away vast amounts of recreational pharmaceuticals and lascivious sexual favours.

3. Never mention the pustules.

4. Avoid underwear and especially in your case, admitting that your are (or have been) a socialist.
Such admissions draw derision outside of a few remaining pockets of idiocy in Hampstead and student common rooms.

Follow these simple rules and your will find yourself popular at Yacht clubs, Rubber Balls and opium dens all over London.

More Uncle Chap

Dear Uncle chap

I have recently been meddling in the very fabric of the universe and have acquired knowledge that clearly man was not meant to know. As a result of playing god and meddling with forces beyond my control, I now have need of an army of robot slaves. My problem is this after my space station is fully operational what is to stop them turning on me in some form of cyber-rebellion? Should I build a more mobile battle station? Perhaps a cross between a star ship and a battle station? What should I call this?

Dear reader,

I share your woes - as it is nigh on impossible to acquire half decent staff. Your solution is elegant and noble - robot slaves do not complain about health and safety, demand workers' rights or vote Labour.
I was however concerned by one or two of your points. You are guilty, I'm afraid, of lethal hubris. If you are going to embark on plans of global domination then one should at least keep one's feet on the ground.
Any recently apprehended global evil genius will tell you that Space Stations, Death Stars (tm) or Orbital Laser platforms are very prone to invasion by misguidedly honest forces of some Intelligence services hell bent on 'liberating' the world from your boundless munificence.
In addition, it is a proven fact that radiation released while raining 'god's cleansing fire' on the cities of the world scramble the brains of these robot slaves leading them to rise up, burn the sky and generally enslave us.

My advice is simple - your base and therefore plans should be based around either a volcano and some scheme to cause the major powers to waste their missiles on one another, leaving the world yours - or something in the sub-aqua line. That will combine great views with excellent facilities for torturing special agents, detaining world leaders and capturing rogue ballistic missile submarines.

In the meantime - one should consider the appropriate accessories for yourself to carry off the look with panache. White cats and Chairman Mao suits are very last century. The modern super villain should really only be seen in either a well cut Saville Row suit with a lining hewn from the skin of Japanese virgins or a traditional suit of golden armour.

Your tinfoil hat is entirely optional - but it may ruin your credibility when on the video phone to the U.N.

More Chappy advice....

Dear Uncle Chap,
My husband has been taken away on business overseas for an extended period of time. The house is cold & lonely without a masterful male presence, could you provide a solution? (Your favourite …. apple crumble (with custard) is being prepared by cook as we speak.)
H

The problem dear girl, is that in your rampant and thrusting desire for status and external validation you have clearly neglected the fact that the epicurianism in matters digestif and sexual have been neglected.

If you have paid proper attention to one's onanistic methods - such as 'The hedgehog' then you would feel neither cold nor lonely ever again. Under normal circumstances I would only be to delighted to administer the discipline you require, indeed, and the masterful direction you so clearly require! Does not a woman such as you blossom under the smack of a firm hand?

However, the fact you require cook (Or in Your case what you really mean is Mr. Mark and Mr Spencer) to prepare your custard simply reveals the paucity of your spirit and the barrenness of your desire. Go back to Chiswick and hang your head in shame!

As a consequence I am no longer available to listen to you crow about the price of what some estate agent thinks your rabbit hutch in the garden is now worth. Apple Crumble or not, old girl. My head has been turned by a fragrant young beauty - or rather one who hasn't said no yet.

Asking chap again....

Dear Uncle Chap, following on my hangover the other day I have been lured into a bizarre form of copro-sexual experimentation. Having shaven my head with a grade 4 hangover there was nothing else to do but embark on this voyage of discovery. Essentially I have been subsisting on a diet of immodium and boiled eggs for two weeks now. I must admit the swollen, full sensation in my abdomen is very satisfying. However a week ago for a dare i added banana and senokot to the diet coupled with 6 bowls of all bran all washed down with ducolax. So combined with the delightfull almost pregnant feeling of hyper-constipation i am now feeling the pressure of a week of crapulesence enhancing chemicals. My quandary - when do i break the seal? I have a chocolate teddy's arm that is likely to split my gusset assunder and since it has been brewing for two weeks must weigh about a stone. Your advice?

Dear Anonypoo,

I cannot decide if you have been watching '2girls1cup' (I wouldn't google it at work readers) or you are suffering from some Munchhausen version of Uvula Thrax - the disease of bran addiction ending with the sufferer living in the loo. (Nasty)
Few can deny the joy of a thundering good cable lay on a Saturday morning whilst you plough through Liddle Britain in your Speccie while the mistress hops up and down outside the facilities her back teeth swimming after all the fizz you have plied her with to get the Morning Service without too much fuss.
If the circumstances were true, then said Red October would slip out like an otter off the bank disappear requiring nothing more than a glory wipe.

I would therefore await said timing as above, take your Telegraph, Speccie a roll of freshly chilled quilted, a mug of Old Spoon stander and await the pile-popping glory.

Ask Uncle Chap....again

Dear Uncle Chap,

while languishing in a bath over flowing with bubbles, I reached over to grasp a glass of Louis Roederer Cristal 1990 Krug; only to find that my toe is such in the tap.

Could you please outline a 5 stage rescue plan to come & save me. The bath water is now getting cold

Sincerely, H



Dear Miss H
What?! The drinking of such indicates that you are one of such that we call the particularly vulgar type of 'nouveau riche' - for whom the mentioning of brands as such some how validates your status - but merely serves to display your insecurity when faced with breeding or even the attendance at a decent public school. It indicates a soul wedded to the crudest form of mercantilism and a mindset unfitting for polite company. I shall give you no advice, for there you should stay.

If you had become stuck as you had been sniffing the tile adhesive in a futile attempt to get high or had fallen and broken something whilst servicing yourself with the power-shower head, my sympathy would be entirely with you. As such you are fit only for the pillory and in this case, prune-skin.

Ask Uncle Chap...

I often get asked for chappist advice onto the ways of life.
How can I be a better chap? If I am to behave like a true chap - how should I deal with the vagaries that life hurls at one's miserable existence?

Well, every now and then I get an e-mail from my chums asking for such advice - and so - in an occasion series - I shall answer the questions as well as I can.

Dear Uncle Chap,
Recently I found my self suffering a terrible hangover but in need of shaving my head. What ought I do to?

Dear Reader,
The possession of a hangover can be a sublime introduction to the day, as for that matter is the essentials of appropriate grooming.
Nothing quite sets you up for a day of spanking mammon than staring at one's phisog through blurry eyes, shattered nerves and the delightful edginess of far too many recreational pharmaceuticals.
The sparkle of hot water, the waft of steam and nose tingling sprightliness of fresh dettol assaulting the senses gives you a particular edge and helps you get through the mind numbing tedium of the Today programme.

However your note suggests that you intend to shave your own head. This is not to be recommended unless you find yourself somewhere in the Vietnamese jungle, using a piece of broken windscreen from your downed F4 whilst your loyal batman and navigator holds the heliograph to reflect your dashing yet wounded visage.

No. Should one require to have one's head shaved for reasons other than lice, sexual gratification or whilst they write 'traitor' in felt tip on your forehead - then it is not done to do it by your own hand. One should at the very least engage the services of a peripatetic Turkish barber, Romany tinker or former Nazi dentist to do the act.

My chief concern is that you mention none of these, so one can only assume you have had too much stout and still wish to appear like either an East German dissident or Member of ASLEF. None of these are an acceptable way to start the day.