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Saturday 8th May 2004

Weight 13st 10 (13st13 at start). CNPS numbers spotted 1.
Guinness Facts learned 0.

Date 13 was a sausage sizzle. That's not a euphemism. My mint-sucking friend, Al was having a sausage based barbecue. In Australia that is known as a "sausage sizzle". Al is currently being trained to cook by Gordon Ramsay for a new reality TV show. I didn't notice any of the Ramsay magic based on the one sausage I ate. Not that it wasn't a nice sausage. Just not any nicer than any other sausage that had been prepared for me by the bullet-headed comedian on previous occasions.

Date 21 who I hadn't met before was at the party as well, so I was able to get a little preview of where I will be in a week's time. I spoke to her briefly, but it seemed wrong to be talking to 21 when 13 was actually at the same event. Other guests were coming up to me trying to fix me up with their friends, right in front of 13. Again this seemed rude. I don't know if there is an established etiquette to follow when you are dating 50 women consecutively, but if there was I think arranging other dates and talking to other dates would be top of the list of things not to do.
13 didn't mind too much though. In fact in the pub earlier she had been pointing out other women that I might like to ask out. It all seems too good to be true, doesn't it? Like one of those Greek myths where something that sounds like it's paradise turns out to be the worst thing imaginable. I am waiting for the terrible consequences of my actions to come pouring down on my head.
As it is I already feel like I am in a delicious hell. Everyone I have met has been charming and attractive. I think so far, we've all enjoyed the experience. But there is still over a month to go and not a day off in sight and if I think about it too much my head starts to spin. Who would have thought that going out with loads of women without a break for a month and a half could have had a downside?
But however tired and scared and confused I might feel it is important for me to make sure that each date has as good a time as it is possible for me to give them. I fear I will become sick of being charming and by about date 30 just be shouting grumpily at whatever unfortunate person is with me and going "blah blah blah" instead of trying to be amusing and then laughing much too much, much too closely to their face.
But some women like that.

Perhaps by pushing myself to these extremes I will finally discover what it is that women want. If I do I will share this information with all of you. Of course half of you (well, a quarter, let's be realistic, this is a comedy site on the internet) already know the answer. But all you sad single men out there, who form the core of my fan base, I intend to find out this answer and to share it with you. And then you will all have your pick of the ladies - presuming that actually meeting a real person actually made out of flesh isn't too frightening an idea for you. And if it is then just think, "Rich had to do this 50 times over," and count your blessings.
As it is I think I may already have met the first Mrs Herring, and I'm pretty sure I've met the second Mrs Herring as well, and possibly the fifth one.
I intend to call my wives by their numbers as well. It's much easier than this names thing. But it might be a bit irritating for the first one to be called the first Mrs Herring whilst I'm still actually married to her.





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