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Tuesday 28th February 2006
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Tuesday 28th February 2006

I have given up on my swimming pool secret girlfriend. She hasn't been at the pool all year and I have to accept that she's moved on to become the secret girlfriend of some other sad and pathetic man, old enough to be her father, if only he'd managed to have sex before he was 19. I was of course heartbroken about this for a good few days, but the time has come to move on with my life and find another secret girlfriend to stalk inefficiently from the recesses of a weblog that she is unlikely ever to read.
The problem with having secret girlfriends that you see in day to day life is that they can let you down by leaving employment or by speaking out loud and revealing themselves to be an idiot or by growing older and losing their looks. Which is why I have decided to make my new secret girlfriend that I love be that girl from off of the Marks and Spencers adverts. No, not the severe looking dark haired one. Or the blonde one that many lesser men might fancy because they are idiots who don't realise there is more to a woman than a pretty face and golden locks. And not Twiggy. I'm not sick. No the other one. Who, yes, is extremely pretty, but obviously has a nice personality and if clever as well and that's why I like her.
I am unlikely ever to meet the real woman, whoever she is (I can't be bothered to find out her name) so that makes her safe to love because she can't let me down by proving herself unworthy of my affection (and believe me, a man like me who stalks women inefficiently and changes his mind about who he likes every month or so is considered quite a catch) so essentially I am in love with a picture. And the good things about being in love with a picture are a) it can't talk to you and say "Go away, you're strange."
b) You can enlarge the head in the picture to the size of a human head, stick it on a mannequin and then keep it in your cellar and have romantic dinners with it and then if the mood is right make sweet love to the mannequin before beheading it and making a suit out of its skin.
c) the woman will never age, always stay the same as she is in the picture. Unless you leave the picture in the sunlight in which case it might fade and go a bit orange. So don't do that.
This works well. I used to be in love with the woman from the Britta advert, but made the mistake of mentioning this in a national newspaper. Then she happened to be in Edinburgh that year and left me a note thanking me for mentioning her and I saw her and said hello and thanked her for the note (she looked a bit shocked and scared and I wonder in hindsight whether someone put the note in my pigeon-hole as a joke and she didn't actually know what I was talking about) In any case I had met her and the magic was broken and I had to move on.
I used to be in love with the actress who played Linda Day in Press Gang. I loved her from afar and made shrines to her which I filmed and broadcast on national TV. The good thing about doing something as extreme as that means there is no way that your pure love can ever be broken, or that you'll end up meeting that person and going out with them for 15 months. Because let's face it, that would be weird.
The secret girlfriend thing is a flawless system. Nothing can possibly go wrong.
And I am glad to make the woman from the Marks and Spencers advert my secret girlfriend, not because she poses in her underwear (that was the only photo of her on her own I could find. I like her for what I imagine her mind is like), but also because I shop in Marks and Spencers a lot. Not for clothes - I'm not a loser. But I do a lot of my food shopping there. Especially this year as I am striving to get fit and eat healthily and so buy a lot of their nice friut salads and healthy balance microwave meals (which are fucking great by the way). My girlfriend's gigantic picture is all over the store so I can say hello to her and kiss her massive face, when people aren't looking. so far I have only kissed her, but I am planning to break into the store one night so I can take things a little further, which would be embarrassing during shopping hours. The dimwitted security guards will surely assume the ectoplasm I leave behind comes from ghosts hauting the building.
I can also imagine a time when the two of us could be together (I think only a 2D version of her though) and we could sit at home eating M&S ready meals, which I imagine she would get quite a good discount on, which would be good as they cost four pounds (unless you buy two in which you get one half price. That's what I do. It makes sense).
And unlike mercurial lifeguards this woman will never leave me low and wet.

The above is of course just an hilarious joke. I would LOVE to meet that woman, whatever she is called in real life. If anyone knows the woman from that advert could you please tell her that I fancy her and think she's lush and ask her if she'll come out with me on a date. I wouldn't even mind if she wore proper clothes on the date rather than lingerie, though it would be nice if she had the lingerie on underneath in case things went well. I promise I won't cut off her head unless she asks me to (or the voices in my head instruct me to, which they haven't done for ages).
Probably best not to show her this entry though.
No, you don't know her!
Oh yeah, you're pretty good at mending iPods you lot aren't you, but when it comes to hooking me up with top international models suddenly you go a bit quiet.

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