Billygean.co.uk

Thursday, January 18, 2007

He'll kill me for blogging this

"And how's Dating Direct?" I say, resting my feet on the taps above the bubbles.

"Oh, I've resigned from that," my Dad says. He's such a diva.

"Why?"

"I've sent more winks than I've received."

I shake my head. Winks? It's bad when your father's more hip than you. And when that makes you use the word hip. "How many?"

"Sent six, received three."

"Right, what did they say?"

"One say, thanks for your message but I've met someone now, which is like a total blow-off."

"No it's not," I say. "Maybe she has er, met someone. That is the idea of the site."

"I don't think so," my Dad says. "Anyway, the second said, look at my profile and see what you think."

"Without prompting? This is well good. You're in there. What's her name?"

"Bev."

"Bev. Not a great start."

"No. And she's not got a photo."

"Well," I say. "She might not have a digital camera. plenty of people your age don't."

"Tuh," he says. "Thanks. Anyway, she's put that she's slightly overweight. So that's a no-go."

"Dad! She is fifty! What do you want, Claudia Schiffer?"

"Actually Claudia's a bit on the dumpy side."

Labels: Dad

by billygean.co.uk at 11:19 PM |