Over a Saturday morning bagel, The Maori, The Gays and I discussed the best way to ask someone out.
"Dick pic" - was the general consensus at the table.
"What?!" I cried in despair, "do you expect me to send someone a photo of my vagina?"
"Yup. And caption it, 'up to'", was the helpful advice of The Maori, "that'll get a response real fast".
"No. I don't want to. Ew!! Just.... no! I am NEVER going to do that".
"Come on Shortty, this is 2016. It's The New Way. Do you think you're still in the 60s or something? How else do you expect this dude to know you're interested in him?"
Er - by the Power of Thought. Obvs. It's worked out so successfully for me in the past.
Is this really what we're reduced to? Information Technology has brought us so much: the ability to beam atrocities from Syria across the world in a fraction of a millisecond; everyone could mourn (or celebrate) Trump's victory at the same time; the way we learn and communicate has changed irrevocably; the way that we dissect world news and the (degrees of relativity) fascinating news of our friends and friends of friends and friends of friends of friends.... and yet dating has come to this: a high definition photo of your genitalia - sent to the person you want to have relations with (even that word sounds creepy) - and we're supposed to just accept that this is how we meet people in the 21st century? What happened to Kathy and Heathcliff and sending letters by carrier pigeon and phoning the operator to get connected to someone you HOPE will miraculously be at home at the exact moment that you want to call? I was promised Mr Darcy and Jack and Rose making their human crucifix on the sinking ship WHEN DID ROMANCE DIE PEOPLE?!!!
Wow. I wasn't aware that the bagel convo had affected me so much. Thank god I don't understand how to use the reverse function on my camera.
I'd like to reflect further on how far - or little - we've come in 2016. First we thought that BREXIT was the most radical development of this year - but hadn't reckoned on Trump. BUT if you thought DJT was the biggest shocker that 2016 had in store for you.... sweet innocent child I have something that is going to rock you to your very core. Ready? OK..... here it is.... the biggest news of 2016 that has quite frankly caused me at least one sleepless night this week...
Rick Astley's comeback album has been nominated for album of the year by the BBC Music Awards. AND DAVID BOWIE'S HASN'T.
WTF. I'd like to point out that this is actually Astley's SECOND comeback; after "Never Gonna Gove You Up" became synonymous with the meme "rickrolling" in 2007. For the uniniatited:
Rickrolling, alternatively rick-rolling, is a prank and an Internet meme involving an unexpected appearance of the music video for the 1987 Rick Astley song "Never Gonna Give You Up". The meme is a type of bait and switch using a disguised hyperlink. Those led to the music video believing that they were accessing some unrelated material are said to have been rickrolled. The trend has extended to disruptive or humorous appearances of the song in other situations, such as a live appearance of Astley himself in the 2008 Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York.
I feel like Astley himself must be equally bewildered by his latent success. According to Wikipedia, he retired in 1993, at the age of 27. That sounds like kind of an early age at which to retire - quite frankly it smacks not a little of "giving up on life" - but I guess if I had had a number 1 in 25 countries at the tender age of 19, I might also have considered that my work here was done.
I could go on and on about Astley - but I won't. Still - there you have it folks. 2016 will be remembered for BREXIT; TRUMP; RICK ASTLEY COMEBACK. Who knows what could still happen between now and December 31?
In other (sad) news, I discovered that no age is too great to be Kicked Off The Team. Attending a party with The Irish last week, I was delighted to be invited to participate in a jolly game of Beer Pong. "What high jinks!" I thought to myself, "this'll be a LOL". Well, 20 minutes into the game and I had not managed to score a single ping pong into the competitors' cups. I did feel I was only just warming up - but apparently my poor performance had been noted by the Captain. "Sarah, stand aside", Dublin said, "you're off the team." "Er... you're relegating me? AT A HOUSE PARTY?" "Yes. You're rubbish at this game".
Somehow it's the fact of being kicked off the team at a house party that seems to make this story extra pathetic. I thought that everyone accepted everyone at house parties - even drunk Bulgarian dudes who challenge everyone else to Pushup competitions and walk around with a sheet draped round their bare chest.
Well, not any more. The tides are changing. Clearly, Trump is in the house.
