Silly Guy for Silly Girl, Wisbech – 61

Teenage dirtbag. Only without the "teenage". Suave sophisticat. Only without the "suave". Or the "sophisticat".

Low quality guy (see picture), seeks not-too-fussy lady for "clothing optional but improbable" frolics.

No claims made. No promises broken. Keep your expectations low and I'll try to "Fosbury Flop" over the bar and not limbo dance under it. But, you know. Trying and succeeding. Two rather different critters.

If you're unsure. If you're apprehensive. If you're sceptical. Join the less than exclusive club. Admission is free.

What's the worst that could happen? I suppose I could be an alien clone crafter attempting to replicate your DNA for purposes of societal infiltration and planetary subjugation. A loyal zombie drone seeking a succulent soul sandwich for his gloriously depraved Lich lord. Or a trainspotter looking for a victim to regale with unending tales of the 14.26 from Basingstoke. No. None of the above.

Just me. Being me. Not the best thing to be, but it's all I know how to be. Apologies tendered.

We can discuss the specifics, the generalisations and the downright irrelevancies at some time that is not "now", but will become "now", later. All I will say is that I won't be swinging from the chandelier or donning a Spiderman outfit. Think not "Casanova". Think "Casanova the hill".

So feel free to say "Hello", "How are you?", "Who are you?", and "Why are you?". Liberate your inner bohemian. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but we're not cats. It's all good.

If I do less than impress. If I underwhelm your realm. If I'm your appointment with disappointment. ........then there'll be someone better along in a moment.

But in THIS moment. I could be your man without a plan. Perhaps we can formulate one together. Let's see.

-Martin.