My laptop came to the rescue
Well, I was a sad, lifeless fat lump. I'd just been turbodumped by the (extremely) ex. I spent my long, lonely, evenings slumped at my computers, hoping that somewhere out there was a beautiful, sweet, sexy, smart, intelligent and wonderful woman, who for some bizarre reason would throw her normal caution to the wind and go out with me.

I tried visiting the local wishing well, and that didn't work (although DemiGod got a new teddy and some trains - what's that about?!?)

I tried joining a dating agency, but I was turned down because I didn't own a car(!!!)

So I went Internet dating. That... well... was interesting. In the same way that a half pint of castor oil is interesting. I couldn't take it any more.

Late one night, I decided to end it all. Oh, not *that*, just to give up on this whole Internet dating lark. And so I signed on to the dating site for the last ever time. Who'd have guessed that the 'search for eligible beauties in your local vicinity' button was right next to the 'delete my profile, I've decided I'll die lonely and unwanted, and be eaten by my pet cats' button?

I clicked the wrong one. Then, to be fair, in a beer-fuelled haze, I clicked a few other wrong buttons. The usual profiles passed before my eyes... then one caught my eye. Who on earth would describe themselves as being like "Princess Fiona (Shrek 2 version)"?

And that, dear reader, was the question I couldn't leave alone. I'd always admired Princess Fiona, and thought that she was the woman for me (OK, she'd never leave Shrek, but hey, I can dream).

Slowly, I extended a nervous, trembling finger. Followed by 7 more, and two thumbs. I sent this woman a message... Could this be it? Could my long, lonely, dark existence finally be over? Was that finally a crack (ooer) in the darkness?

She replied... I replied...

Soon, I was racing home from work to get on my laptop and chat on messenger to my Princess Fiona. Hours would pass, as we typed back and forth (her in pink, me in purple, naturally).

One day, we decided to meet up. When we found each other in Birmingham, she turned to face me, and smiled an intoxicating, beautiful, wonderful, astonishing, breathtaking, perfect smile. And she had great tits.

That was four years and more than a million kisses ago. As I type, still on the same laptop, she's leaning on my shoulder, and I'm still the happiest person in the world.

My own personal fairy tale, and it's all true.
(purplegod counting down for Christmas!, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 21:51, 4 replies)

Oh hurrah!
I do like happy endings :D *clicks*
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 22:32, closed)

hurrah!
I'm not the only one who thinks Princess Fiona looked hotter as an ogre!
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 29 Aug 2008, 23:41, closed)

That's nice.
You lucky bastard.
I on the other hand clicked the right button first time. Damn my quake 3 trained precision mouse fingers.
(Prof. Moriarty put his foot in it on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 0:46, closed)

Aaawwwww..
Bleeeuuurgh!

Sorry. That story was just too damned happy.
Still, pleased for you.
( gareth_alien will be human again at, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 11:32, closed)