Its all a bit xXx Rated…

Whether its X, xx, xXx or xoxo – decorating a message with this letter (aka the kiss) is somewhat the norm for most of us in today’s texting typing society. But, why is it when people don’t use them or when they over use them, mixed messages are sent?

We don’t kiss each other at the end of every statement in conversation so why should we at the end of a text or email? To show we’re not angry or annoyed? Surely we don’t need to resort to Xing or not Xing: To X or not to X! Is it all a bit ridiculous?

Send an email to your boss with one and you are over stepping the mark, but don’t put one to your best friend and you enter a ‘why are you mad with me’ message war.

Does XXX mean more than xxx? – apparently so as its capitals. What’s the difference between x x x and xx. If someone doesn’t x are they playing it cool in flirting? If you over use the X are you coming across as too keen? He-Who-Observes has definitely typed out xxxxx and then back tracked it to a casual and smooth xx. Don’t pretend you haven’t done it, this is He-Who-Observes remember…

“He’s definitely not keen”

“Why?”

“He’s not putting kisses, and when he does its just one”

Oh.My.God. Slap me with a wet trout and call me Susan.

He-Who-Observes is going to attempt to not give a fxXxck about all of this nonsense and just get on with day to day messaging.

xx

Winter Nights – Couple Up, Nanna Up or Perish…

The winter nights: full of soups and homey meals, lamp lit rooms, red wine, smooth jazz and getting snuggled up with your beau… Ahhhh.

The couples have it good. The dual heat under the covers help keep the other from dropping dead half way through the night. Sleeping is effortless due to the constant warmth from the other and in-turn, getting out of bed is no task as the couples can act as a team, motivating the other to get-the-hell-up and go to work. Day to day routine carries on as normal and both members of the couple seem to be on top of their work load and in higher spirits than some of their colleagues. All in all – the winter months are good.

Poor singletons are faced with bone chilling evenings flying solo through the night – each evening colder than the last, questioning their very own existence with every spine chiller of the untraceable draft. Their must-have’s consist of flannel twin sets, thick socks, electric blankets and a coco for one – the Nana style inspiration has never been more popular, the only difference (perhaps) is a smutty novel to take the edge off the harsh air of reality. Desperate times call for desperate measures, Snuggie blankets all round? Due to sleeping alone, the singleton’s bed in the mornings is bitterly cold. There is no other to motivate the singleton to get out of bed, therefore leading to lateness in the workplace and an increase in sick days. Due to poor nights sleep, no thanks to the now formed cricked neck – the singleton is falling behind at work. Heating bills are higher due to the depressive nature of living alone and a questionable alcohol problem has arisen.

Twin Sets from Peter Alexander

He-Who-Observes has solved the problem. Singletons must form sleeping partners. A solely mutual friendship and sound understanding of ‘no sex – just sleep’ will allow body temperature satisfaction and sleeping optimisation. Its either this or regression into old-age during your twenties. David Attenborough / Robert Winston would undoubtedly observe and document such behaviour – leading to countless ‘Sleep Ads’ on Gumtree and a united single race as we know it. Try and feel the perks.

Death by cold lonely nights? No thanks. We will not be beaten - nor will we sacrifise our in-home style needs...

You know you've hit rock bottom single life when you're walking around the house in one of these...

PDA – Where “A” is Anger… and amusement.

He-Who-Observes just loves a good public display of anger. I’m not talking your 3am street brawl between those members of society with rocks for brains, no. I’m talking those in arguments with their other half, the pensioner waving her stick in the air and tutting, and the man with the gut and moustache shaking his head after walking past a group of squealing gay men in ripped denim jeans.

It’s hilarious. Fact. And it’s a big ray of sunshine in a thank-god-I’m-not-involved kind of way.

My personal favourite are those in the couples category. Such displays of emotion can be found in locations such as: home-furnishings/electrical/gardening stores, and in café’s on weekends. Arguments are expectedly fuelled with a hangover – the spoon stirring the short fused mixture. Perfection.

“Baby waby, which cup and saucer set do you prefer for Pete and Kate’s wedding? The one with the gold trim and pink flowers, or the one with the silver trim and purple flowers?” Whiney tone. Painful to the eardrums.

“Do we have to get them these cup and saucers?” Uninterested tone, slumped expression from male.

He-Who-Observes detects an argument and carries on inspecting the overpriced casserole dish, ears prick up, eyes hover above the display fixture – you all know the drill.

“You don’t even care do you?!”

He doesn’t care at all. Give the guy a break, it's the weekend. He’d happily smash that plate on the floor in front of you.

“Yes I care”

Liar

“No you don’t, you don’t care about any of my friends do you?!”

“Yes”

Liar

“Well, you didn’t seem that interested in Caitlin’s break up story last night”

Male lowers his voice and speaks through his gritted teeth

“For god’s sake” He says

“Here we go again, you always do this…”

And off it goes. All the while We-Who-Observe lurk and meander around the aisles, smirking into our frying pans.

Praise single life. Pity the other half. We will not become this couple. The weekend is too short to go floral plate shopping. Order online love. It’s only you who cares.

Floral plates available at cathkidston.co.uk - Always one step ahead of a brawl.

PDA – Where “A” is Affection… and annoyance.

“I love you”

“No I love you”

“Noo I love youuu”

Pass me the sick bucket and push the eject button. Now!

Whether it’s couples kissing (or attempting to choke each other using only their tongue) on the escalator, groping each other at the pedestrian crossing (presumably conducting some kind of genital examination) or lying in an un-orthodox position in the park: its plain rank.

For one minute, He-Who-Observes would love Not-To-Observe this display of overindulgent affection whilst on route with a dinner for one. He-Who-Observes requests all couples to think back from a time when they were in a similar state of ‘grey’ single life and become a bit considerate of others, if this is even possible.

The worst, and I mean, THE WORST is picking each other’s skin: I’m talking blemishes. If I had a $/£/¥ for every time I’ve experienced this, I’d have enough to buy my own private island. At what point does it become OK? And when does it become OK to do this in public or in front of your friends? During one observed blemish correction procedure I text a friend asking for guidance, the reply simply read “Throw a boot at them”. Sound advice if you ask me.

Another friend came to visit He-Who-Observes from a country far away, enough for a nine-hour flight. After our hug at the airport – no irony here please: – it wasn’t a hip grinding embrace, I asked her how her flight had been. “Awful” She replied. “I sat next to a couple who, from the moment they sat down, gazed into each others eyes and snogged for the entire flight juration”. She rolled her eyes and gagged.

Mushy talk at the checkout queue, sloppy kisses in cinemas, snuggles on bar sofas that may as well be in bed – Give it a bloody rest! When did the human race become so inconsiderate and selfish? Don’t answer this.

I’m over it, and I’m guessing many others are too. I just don’t think I have enough boots to throw… sadly.