Greetings, earthlings!
What the hell is this? Who the hell am I? And how do I maintain buff biceps when I’m saving the world, one heartbreak victim at a time?
Well, the answer is, with hand-weights – but I digress.
It’s blog etiquette to introduce yourself, and after all, the reason I’m here is to help you. So help me help you. (Yes, I love movie lines – so free chocolate for the first person to post title and character on that little number).
I digress again. RELATIONSHIPS! SEX! (Yes please!) and of course, that six letter word we all love to hate: DATING.
I’m here to make sense of all of the above – and of all the confusing bits in between. Like the three-day-phone-call rule – are we really counting anymore? Is it the end of the line if you end a Wednesday night smoking cones in a share house in Randwick with a 19-year-old Canadian exchange student? Does every girl out there really have a Brazilian? Do you?! Doesn’t it hurt? Will he really think you’re cheap if you shag him in his office cubicle after a first date and one too many vodkas? (OK, it wasn’t really a date, more like a sad speed dating party AND I hadn’t had any dinner.) Are you flying your freak flag if you use internet dating sites or is it acceptable and even de rigueur to have a profile or three? These pressing questions and more will be answered, right here, right now. Well, every Tuesday and Friday. And whenever else I feel someone is in need of rescuing.
Look, I don’t pretend to be perfect. Like Superman’s Kryptonite, I have weaknesses. Namely, for unsuitable lifeguards with abs you could open a Smirnoff Black* with. And other inappropriate characters you shall meet – but all in good time.
What you really need to know, folks, is I’m out there with you, on the singles beat. Dating up a storm. Flirting up a frenzy. Washing the sweet smell of cigarettes and beer out of my cape. Chances are, I’ve been there, done that – and will have a pearl of wisdom or two to impart. And if I don’t, I’ll make something up. What can I say, with great powers comes great responsibility.
Up, up and away…
reality chick x
PS. Flick hint: He used to be cute and swoonworthy, but is now plain weird and likes jumping on the couches of daytime talk show divas.
* Seven percent alcohol, ladies. Never again.
Well, the answer is, with hand-weights – but I digress.
It’s blog etiquette to introduce yourself, and after all, the reason I’m here is to help you. So help me help you. (Yes, I love movie lines – so free chocolate for the first person to post title and character on that little number).
I digress again. RELATIONSHIPS! SEX! (Yes please!) and of course, that six letter word we all love to hate: DATING.
I’m here to make sense of all of the above – and of all the confusing bits in between. Like the three-day-phone-call rule – are we really counting anymore? Is it the end of the line if you end a Wednesday night smoking cones in a share house in Randwick with a 19-year-old Canadian exchange student? Does every girl out there really have a Brazilian? Do you?! Doesn’t it hurt? Will he really think you’re cheap if you shag him in his office cubicle after a first date and one too many vodkas? (OK, it wasn’t really a date, more like a sad speed dating party AND I hadn’t had any dinner.) Are you flying your freak flag if you use internet dating sites or is it acceptable and even de rigueur to have a profile or three? These pressing questions and more will be answered, right here, right now. Well, every Tuesday and Friday. And whenever else I feel someone is in need of rescuing.
Look, I don’t pretend to be perfect. Like Superman’s Kryptonite, I have weaknesses. Namely, for unsuitable lifeguards with abs you could open a Smirnoff Black* with. And other inappropriate characters you shall meet – but all in good time.
What you really need to know, folks, is I’m out there with you, on the singles beat. Dating up a storm. Flirting up a frenzy. Washing the sweet smell of cigarettes and beer out of my cape. Chances are, I’ve been there, done that – and will have a pearl of wisdom or two to impart. And if I don’t, I’ll make something up. What can I say, with great powers comes great responsibility.
Up, up and away…
reality chick x
PS. Flick hint: He used to be cute and swoonworthy, but is now plain weird and likes jumping on the couches of daytime talk show divas.
* Seven percent alcohol, ladies. Never again.




9 Comments:
At December 30, 2006 12:24 AM,
flathead said…
Jerry Maguire Jerry Maguire Jerry Maguire. When is my chocolate arriving?!
At December 30, 2006 2:37 PM,
Supapsych said…
Hey reality chick, this is Supa Psych. Unlike you, I do have qualifications!! so I will be checking on you regularly to make sure that you don't lead everyone astray!! I'm watching you sista....
At December 31, 2006 12:46 PM,
moontoon said…
I wish I had the physique of reality chick. Unfortunately I just have the reality - Split up with the boyf on the day before New Year's Eve!
At December 31, 2006 3:33 PM,
reality chick said…
Chocolate requests, expert threats, break-ups... just another day in reality chickdom.
moontoon, so very sad to hear of your split, now that's a reality check you DON'T need just before you ring in the new year. Hope you're getting stuck into some quality liquor, because this is no time to be thinking about biceps. Revenge tactics, sure. (Unless of course, you called it off - in which case I'm sure he doesn't deserve a yellow hair on your furry head!!)
At January 01, 2007 9:52 PM,
Anonymous said…
Hey, RC - did you pash anyone on NYE? Somehow, even though I wore my best super boots and my cute flirty dress, I ended up kissing only my friends. On the cheek. What am I doing wrong?
At January 02, 2007 9:51 AM,
Anonymous said…
Hey RC - i am loving this website! About time the single chicks of Australia had a voice and someone to ask 'those' questions we've all been asking ourselves! I am also keen to hear how you went on NYE - man-wise - and no, nothing wrong with smoking cones with 19 y.o at Randwick on a Wed night, we've all been there done that (well, mine was a 21 y.o at Elizabeth Bay on a Tues night but hey, we're not splitting hairs here) I did very well for myself on NYE and picked up a guy I'd had my eye on for a while...after many, many drinks and waiting for a cab for AN HOUR we ended up back at my place... I suddenly went into heart failure when i remembered the legs hadn't seen a razor in a few days... ok, WEEKS, but i figured he wasn't interested in my legs anyway... Unfortunately though the 12 hours of drinking took over and he...ahem... lost the wind from his sails. I tried every trick in the book but to no avail. Still, it was a fun night and a great start to 2007!
At January 02, 2007 10:03 AM,
reality chick said…
Leg stubble! I love it. I always find that if you deliberately stay hairy - yes, even superheros get stubble - you'll have no problem picking up. It's the nights where you've tweezered, razored, waxed and/or Brazilianed yourself to within an inch of your life that no guy seems interested. Just one of life's mysteries, like where all those odd socks go.
And seeing you all seem so interested in my new year pash or lack there of, check out today's post for more....
At January 15, 2007 7:09 PM,
Anonymous said…
This post has been removed by a blog administrator.
At November 10, 2009 9:12 PM,
Anonymous said…
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Sorry for offtopic
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