Warming the Cockles of My Heart

Condé Nast dating service launches.

I’ve never felt the need to be in a relationship – until now. It’s the cold’s fault. It brings out the primitive, keep-me-warm instinct in me.

It’s also UP’s fault – the first four minutes of Pixar’s latest animatory coup-de-force had me weeping uncontrollably in a sea of 5 year old cinema goers (who were also howling- though presumably not for the same reasons) and made me want to find someone to grow old and angry with.

But where to find said elusive hot water bottle? Ahem, man - I mean man.

I’m kind of loving Uniformdating , which seems to veer dangerously towards being a fetishist’s dream and may kill Ann Summer’s latex nurse/policewoman/sailor profits for the year, offering the real thing for your dating delectation.

Or then there’s the newly launched offering from Condé Nast . Yes, Vogue’s publishing house has decided to bring its readership together in the hope of (presumably) forging the way for GQ meets Wintour-esque powerhouse babies of the future. Or in a worst-case-scenario, House&Garden girl meets CN Traveller boy and they’re never in the same place at the same time. But they have great phone sex.

Now there’s a winter warmer if ever I heard one.

by MaM

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Copyright (C) 2007 Alain Georgette / Copyright (C) 2006 Frantisek Hliva. All rights reserved.