Blind Date

 This week I thought I’d look at my girl Jan Balonky’s dating habits.

Jan, 44

Vital Statistics: Divorced in 2018; 8 children.

Current Role: Apprentice Porn Star

Would Like To Meet: Someone like Simon Cowell

DATING PAST? I was married for ten years, but my husband divorced me because I started swinging. This was after I shat out eight God Forbids (kids) to the bloke. I was swinging on Wigan car parks after hours at Pennington Flash. I’m not fussy, but one dude called Dave from Hull used to insist about getting his nut-sack on the rear view mirror and taking JPEGs off it steaming up. When I gobbled him off he used to pull my weave out while erupting down my gob.

PRE-DATE NERVES? When I’m going on a date I always tart up. I love hearing about new people’s stories in my life. I’m interested in their job, their life, their family roles. I’m not arrogant though.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS? I didn’t fancy my last date, Nigel. He looked like a rag ‘n’ bone man, turning up in his Hi-Vis vest and rigger boots. He had a mouth like a sailor, effin’ this and effin’ that. When I mentioned I was into porn though he livened up a lot and suggested blowin’ his beans down my pussy-ole.

EASY TO TALK TO? Nigel was a dipstick with no vocabulary. He had a speech impediment and brown teeth. I noticed crumbs of food in his beard. He said he grew up in Borstal, so that explains why he was tryin’ to act hard all the time. We disagreed on almost everything he mentioned, including who should have won the FA Cup. He’s got football on the brain, and it seemed like he was out the back for a smoke every five plus ten minutes. I tried to drop him hints by playing on my phone but he wouldn’t bite the bait. One look at my tits and he thought he was in all night long time. He wanted my bosom for a pillow.

EMBARRASSING MOMENTS? When hot cheese started melting out of his deli sandwich and dribbling down his chin I wanted to call it a day. The way he childishly wiped it away though was quite endearing. Then was the time he blew his arse – the fetid creature stank of rotten sh*t. I told him to get his rump checked out, it smelled like a rat had crawled up there and given up. He was a f**king cheapskate as well, turning his nose up at the £15 steak.

DID SPARKS FLY? Zippo. We for sure weren’t singing from the same hymn sheet. I’m chic and trendy and confident – Nigel was a dustman on steroids.

SEE HIM AGAIN? I’d rather date Joey Essex than meet up with Nigel again. All he kept looking at was my cleavage. By the end of the date I was asking my Ex what he was up to!

WHAT DO YOU THINK HE THOUGHT OF YOU? I couldn’t give a flying rat’s f**k. He’s as dumb as a doornail. I’d rather staple my ears to a horse than let Nigel anywhere near within a mile of my back doors. He couldn’t kick in a militant’s head.

WOULD YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS LIKE HIM? Nigel would never get that far. We are just too different. I’m the amazing Jan Balonky; he is just another waste-man.