Got the wrong bloke here

There is a plague of social networks. The last one to grasp me to its clammy bosom is called MyLife.

Like a sad fool I tend to accept all invitations. As the villainous Robert Maxwell remarked (his only known joke) "If I were a woman I'd be permanently pregnant. I can't say no."

Anyhow I got a message just now asking: Who's Searching for You? "Oh shit - creditors," I thought, with a frisson of alarm. But no, on the side bar I saw this:

“Steve is still cute … single … and he was looking for you!”

Over the years I have enthusiastically partaken of more bizarre sexual antics than any sane person ought to - but, sorry Steve, you'll have to search elsewhere. Try the Toad. He needs a friend. Any friend. Even you, you big girl's blouse.