The Dating Awards – How Not To Network

**Congratulations you have been shortlisted as a finalist for Dating Blogger of the Year**


I wanted to look my best for the evening, if there is one thing I excel at (other than being a total moron) it’s getting dolled up.

Operation Tart – Commence:

I booked a tan the day before: “I want to keep it natural – but not unnoticeable”. (Like all my beauticians she went a bit deaf and only heard “I want to look like I visited the sun for an hour”.) She began spraying (and then insulted my small but still very shapely bottom):
“Stick your bum out for me?” – “I am” – “No, a little more”.


She left and mentioned it may develop a little. I went to bed that night and briefly glanced at my reflection:


The following day I made my way to the shops to get the last few vital bits (nipple covers). Unfortunately Debenhams didn’t have what I needed. (“Go in that store room – and FIND THEM”).

I had to improvise (whilst continuing to be an angry orange rolling around Clapham junction High Street) and entered a few other stores (Marks and Spencers, a hiking store – “I’m pretty sure marathon runners need to cover their nipples?”)


“OK, no worries – BYE!”

Then ended up in Boots:

“Excuse me?! shop assistant lady? do you reckon bunion plasters could work as nipple covers? Please help me.”


Night of the Awards:

I put on my dress (stuck on my bunion plasters) and caught a taxi to the event. I arrived and met up with another writer, Sam Bye who I knew through a mutual friend.

(Mutual friend: “I don’t know who’s a worse human being, you two are going to get on great”).

She was accompanied with a friend from home who was there for moral support, unfortunately she received none in return. Everytime she spoke both Sam and I would cut her down (“your opinion means nothing – you have a boyfriend”).

We all sat down at our tables and began chatting: “Who’s that guy, he looks familiar” – “Oh, he’s nominated for dating blogger of the year”. I introduced myself (keep your friends close, but your enemies closer).

Our host for the evening was Ed Gamble.

Hilarious and gorgeous (definitely restraining order material). He started off with a few jokes to get everyone relaxed (as I kept telling anyone who would listen “he once called me “King Debbie” at the Edinburgh Fringe we’re basically dating”). Then he did that one really unfunny joke (regarding his actual girlfriend.)

He began calling out the awards, my friends had pre-warned me:
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t win – just to be nominated is such an achievement” (“don’t make a scene no one likes a sore loser”).

My category was announced and Ed (first name basis) began reading out the names of the finalists. The girl to my left squeezed my arm: “It’s totally gonna be you” – “oh shhh no it’s not”.


“And the Winner is….”




I was really happy for the winner.


After all everyones a winner. (Just other winners didn’t tell the internet they did anal with a stranger, and their families have now banned them from Christmas).



I decided the best way to handle this was to just enjoy the evening and attempt to “Network” (pass that bottle. NOW.)

27 Tips On How Not To Network

1) Be polite to the winner – don’t be bitter:

2) Stop eating and start drinking.

3) Rip off your bunion plasters #FREETHENIPPLE

4) Then start crying: “Mate my nipples bleeding, is it going to fall off?” – “It’ll be fine stick some tissue down there”.

5) Own the room (with tissue sticking out your bust).

6) Chat with influential people in the industry.

7) OR stalk Ed Gamble.


8) Get a photo with Ed Gamble.

9) Then another.

10) Even when he’s speaking to other people – don’t leave.

But he might.

11) Focus your attention towards those actually in the industry.

(“Whose the second fittest boy in this room – ah, he’ll do”)

12) Attract the male.

13) Look like you are having the greatest time with everyone else – gatecrashing another couples happiness.

14) Chat to other men (one who turns out to be the author of: “How to get a guy in 60 days”):

“I think I could help you”


15) Make things happen: turn to your new friend (happy couple) of the evening – “I want that man, go fetch him”.

16) Lower dress further.

17) Get attractive males number and name (Fred?) ignoring his date (they always get in the way).

18) Exchange dating disasters with other bloggers: “A guy once asked for his £3.50 back after a date” – “oh how horrendous”. (A date once asked me for a threesome with my housemate then turned round and said “actually you don’t have to be there” – cry me a fucking river).

19) Head out to a bar with new friends (total strangers).

20) Hazily watch everyone else leave.

21) Continue being the life and soul of the party.

“There ain’t no party…

22) Realise you are are the only life and soul at the party as you have accidentally gone clubbing – ON YOUR OWN

Atleast you don’t stand out too much (in your floor length ball gown on a Thursday night.)

23) Get a taxi at 5:30 am with absolutely no idea who you are, what you are or the point of your existence.

24) Wake up the following day and projectile vomit up bedroom wall.

25) Receive message from Fred (?) – attractive male from night before:

“I had an interesting dream this morning – I’m sure you could deal with it. I have a very vivid imagination hopefully you’ll get to see that . Shocked hey?!” (who turns out to be Christian Grey).

26) Act like the Virgin Mary:

“I don’t know what sort of first impression I gave you but I‘m not that kind of girl”

27) Go on twitter (and realise why male has been so forward) seeing all the smiley faces from the awards. Then look at your own notifications from the organsier: “@debsbowie… I think I see nipples (I’ll private email you your photos)”.

Yep – that’ll do it.


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