The most recent test I was sent was so dull I absolutely refused to answer it. The first two questions were
1. Are you an organised person?
2. Do you enjoy a challenge?
Dear God! I suspect the sneaky cove was looking for someone to complete his tax return or tidy up his sock drawer.
Rochester set the most endearingly irreverent questions. I don't recall them all, sadly. I did have all the Rochester correspondence saved, but sadly my laptop was stolen and I lost everything. I do remember many of the swarthy rogue's questions were deemed too risque and were disallowed by the dating site: all references to cocaine and swinging were swiftly eliminated. Some of his more memorable questions were:
1. We hit it off, but then, over dinner it transpires that you have actually shagged my big brother. What do you do?
2. You notice I have a rampant thatch of nasal hair. Do you dump me or discreetly buy me some clippers for Christmas?
3. I have a crush on Letitia Dean. This has been known to send women into a complete frenzy. How do you cope with that?
4. I bring you breakfast in bed on a walnut tray. It is a plate of marmite on toast. Are you pleased?
5. We're in love, and plan to through a party. I invite all of my ex-girlfriends. Is this OK with you?
6. A handsome best friend of mine make a pass at you. Do you tell me?
7. In the middle of a romantic meal I suddenly start doing Tommy Cooper impressions. Does this bother you?
I wish I could remember the rest.
I continue attract a very odd bunch on men on the interweb. This week's 'catch' was a chinless cretin who purported to be a successful musician and composer. He has been 'stalking' me with emails for days. He sent me a link to his website - what a revelation that was!!! Apparently, the 'Easy Listening' composer has performed on Songs of Praise, practices Reiki healing, is a trained Relate marriage guidance counsellor. His motto is 'seek and you shall find.'
The picture on his website shows him poised above his organ, all floppy fringed and silk-scarved, like an aging Sebastian Flyte. Too much of a 'feathery stroker' for me. On the F.S. spectrum I fear he is hovering around the 'Richard Madeley' end. When it comes to men of the male gender, I need a bit more testosterone. I am looking for Nick Cave crossed with a young Paul Newman: a brooding, dour intensity combined with the ability to mix a decent salad dressing.
Oh - but I failed to mention the best bit about my effete admirer: he only has one leg! Now really, I do not want to appear leggist, but when it comes to requirements in a potential partner then I do expect a minimum of 2 legs, as standard. I am sure Paul McCartney would agree with me wholeheartedly on this point.