So I was outside the building in which I work, enjoying a smooth, satisfying smoke when I was approached by an early thirties female displaying generous cleavage and an imposing clipboard. She politely asked if I would like to answer a ‘couple of quick questions?’ Naturally I responded how any self respecting male who should be working would: ‘Ok’.

Mistake. What followed was the most nauseating, moronic list of questions I’ve ever had the displeasure of not answering. First up:

‘Are you single?’

By itself, not such a difficult question, but clearly a disturbing indication of what may follow. The survey was apparently for a new dating agency, and I assume they were gathering statistics which would later be used to apply to personality types to create matches. However, I remain baffled as to what valuable information about my innermost feelings, desires, tastes and fears can be ascertained by asking:

‘What celebrity would you go on a first date with?’
‘On a first date, how long is it before you know if you are interested in the person? Straight away, 15 minutes, or the whole night?’
‘Are you more or less productive at work when you are in a relationship?’

This was my personal favourite:
‘Who talks more about themselves on a first date, men or women?’

By the way, my consecutive answers to these four questions went along the lines of:

‘...’
‘....’
‘Exactly the same.’
‘...’

Are we, as a society, so soulless, so shallow, so socially destitute, so hopelessly self conscious and egocentric that this is how we are supposed to view and operate within our social world? Asking and answering questions like these are supposed to reveal defining features of who we are? If so, I’m sticking with my bohemian network of friends with whom I share varying degrees of openness and closeness – it’s not a lifestyle for everyone, but at least we are in touch with that which makes us human.

And if I ever find myself on a 'date', remind me to kill myself.

Are you sure it was for a dating agency? It sounds like a Cleo article in the making to me.

If it is, my guess is stop reading Cleo and you'll be OK.

Come you jest! I came for a look thinking you would kick me for being amung those who run the place and the world not so.
But what a great chance you had! at such times my answers are crafted to totaly confuse the questioner.
Did you ask her for a date at the mud westling festival?
Or inquire if she thought threesomes are better than foursomes?
Pollsters have the total opersite answers to the ones I think after leaveing me! great fun.

The questions sound like the ones on Kyle & Jackie O on 2DayFM this morning (1/2/07)

NOt that I listen to it...

“And if I ever find myself on a 'date', remind me to kill myself.”

Aaaaaahaaaahahahahahaaaaaa. I love it !!

I got past the urge to do that sort of thing several years ago and have been very happily completely single ever since.

Maximised freedom mate… and minimized complications. You just can’t beat it!

Now I’m about to take the next step out of mainstream society, having just sold my house…. and soon to have no abode! I’m just gunna be a vagrant for a while…maybe quite a while. And because I’ve only got me to look after, I can do it with no problems.

This mainstream society stuff has got knobs on it. The pressure to compete with your neighbours or be seen to be keeping up with fashions or the latest gadgetry….STUFF THAT !! !!

I’ll continue to go bush as much as I can, study my plants, rocks and birds, lobby for environmental commonsense, and just stay the hell away from the soulless, shallow, egocentric (and I should add overweight, overconsumerist and underparticipatory in social, environmental and political issues) majority.

Cheers spendocrat

I think people who ask absurd questions like that deserve absurd answers.

Are you single?
I was born that way and I will die that way. (the real answer is no, but this is fun).

When was your last date?
Christmas day, it was in the cake.

Do you fantasize over famous people?
I am famous. They fantasize over me.

How much time do you spend with them?
I charge by the hour. Give me your address and I will send you a bill for the time. That will be $400 dollars per 15 minutes for a stud like me.

Are you joking?
I take Visa of Mastercard. My pimp is that man across the road.

Watch the cleavage and the clipboard run like the wind to the next mug. I'm not mainstream but I refuse to be treated like a poor old desperado.

I may not wear Prada, but I'm no handbag either.