Mr Ridley vs The Wedding Pact

Writing my first official “I’m hopeless and therefore you should fill my life with internet love” post triggered a whole host of awful romantic stories from my past. Today I will share with you, my dear reader, a tale which begun when my understanding of romance and dating was about as complex as this guy:


Allow me to set the scene for you:

15 year old, yet-to-have-a-girlfriend Mr Ridley (with the exception of year 6, where I ‘dated’ my fellow school captain for 2 weeks at the start of year 6, and she dumped me on the 13th of February, so I decided to cross out her name on her Valentines Day card and give it to another girl, clearly my smoothness was evident from a young age), was daydreaming his way through another exhilarating day of year 10 work, when a young lady (Kristy) approaches. Evidently another strapping young lad in my class had broken her heart, and as one of 7 guys in my year, and certainly the safest option, she decided to entertain me with a bargain. “If we’re both not married by 40, we will get married.” 

As you can imagine dear reader, my mind was swirling with questions. A woman wanted to marry me? In 25 years? I won’t have to cross out any more names on Valentines Day cards? Where do I sign up? Hands were shook, and the bond of future marital bliss was forged.

I was, needless to say, excited.

Jump forward 6 years, Mr Ridley is now a cool as a cucumber uni student with a 1980 Mitsubishi Sigma station wagon with cream velour interior, so you can probably tell, I was a rad motherfucker*.

From excited child, to cool guy in 6 short years… That’s a lie, they were very long.

I receive a phone call, which even by 2008 standards was a pretty big deal. It was my friend Kristy from high school, asking me to come over for dinner and catch up. I thought that sounded like a great idea, I hadn’t seen most of my friends from high school since I had graduated and thought it would be nice to catch up with every one again. We settle on a 7pm Saturday start time. I arrive early, as I do to all things, and she greets me all dolled up and walks me to the table. It’s at this point I begin to suspect things may not lead to the kind of group get together that I was expecting, but I’m sure it would be nice to share a meal with Kristy.

I was not two bites into a potato bake when the first and only warning shot was unleashed. “It’s so difficult to meet guys these days.” I believed her, I knew how hard it was to meet women, so surely that was all a barren market, and not me being horrifically unappealing. I gave her a sympathetic pep-talk discussing how great she was, and most guys would be lucky to have her. The next sentence to leave her lips floored me completely, and I’m not one to be shocked easily – “I was thinking we should move our marriage up a few years.” I had forgotten about it to be honest, I was happy to adjust it down a few years, I wasn’t the most confident guy on the block, however the idea of marrying anyone due to not meeting anyone just felt icky to early-20’s Mr Ridley. So what harm could 35 do?

“Oh sure! How many years were you thinking? Down to 35?”

“I’m thinking we move it forward 18 years to June next year.”


My initial reaction was to laugh, a reaction which didn’t go down very well with my new pre-fiance. “I believe you should propose in August this year, and we’ll get married in June next year.” Not only was I going to be marrying her, but I would have my proposal date selected in advance too? How was a man meant to say no? It’s at this point my mind started racing as to where the hell I can escape to and fake my death?

My internal reaction was to throw the closest appliance into the closest sink and Marv out.

Something important to know about me, dear reader, is that I am very patient, so where most men would have been through a window already, a part of my brain (the part which has lead me here) told me to hear her out. So I had to push on, I decided I’d ask her where we would spend our honeymoon, a question she was well equipped to answer. Apparently we were to spend 2 weeks in lovely New Zealand doing a Lord of the Rings Adventure tour. Now this almost got me over the line, the thought of me in a fantastic blonde wig tracking the Uruk Hai to Isengard. However the Gandalf the Grey-Matter stood firmly against this.


Four hours of my life rolls on, I’m running out of dismissive nods, and finally after all of the endless marriage planning I was left with a single question. “What do you think?” I attempted to let her down gently, which proved significantly harder to do than normal as she seemed to be ignoring every word I said. I gave her a tentative, “I’ll need to think about it, before I commit to anything.” The words themselves seemed to destroy her, and if that didn’t the phone call three days later to suggest that we are clearly going in different directions in life really didn’t go down well, so it’s been a solid 7 years since that lovely evening, and I’ve never had a marriage proposal-proposal occur since, which is a real shame, I think my first round gave me a lot more confidence in having some input into planning our whole lives. In that time I’ve met a couple of women who I’d love to take on a Lord of the Rings Adventure tour, however, none of them have made it even close to the proposal-proposal stage, however my lovely reader, things will always go upward, or downward, from a second storey balcony, as you’ll find out next time.

I still just want to be held.

*Mr Ridley is not a rad motherfucker.


Mr Ridley vs The Wedding Pact

Welcome Back Mr Ridley (or How My Blog Just Became a Dating Blog)

Hello Everyone (All 8 of you)

From my brief stint in running a blog, it has become pretty obvious that I’m bad at this. Naturally though, I’m going to keep plugging until I either break the internet Kardashian-style, or until I meet (another) someone so lovely that I would hate to put her shit all up on the internet for me to complain about and sweep up all of your digital love:

I needs me one of those guitar spacecraft, I’m sure this blog wouldn’t be necessary if I had one of those.


So here I am, 28 years old, a friend from work suggested (quite sweetly) that I should apply to be on a British TV show called The Undateables:

Which I hadn’t seen a trailer for until just then, so essentially this is the kind of dude an actual friend thinks I am. So dear reader, I believe you’re in for a real treat.

Allow me to tell you a little about myself, in addition to being 28, I’m also a failed Film Producer, not the kind of failed in which you feel like with a montage, and an assuring pat on the back (a scene ripped directly from one of my films), that I could get over my hump and go get that career, nope, I’m much more Apollo Creed from Rocky IV than Rocky Balboa.

This is also a great analog of my dating history.

So now I spend my days typing away on spreadsheets, doing shady stats, and being a general cool guy for a Shady Government Organisation. We don’t even get our picture on our lanyard, but I’m going to blame the government for this. I’m a hopeless romantic, I love flowers, wine and movie nights, shoulder rubs after a long day, and a good dose of head patting, which could be reciprocated once I’ve had my fill, obviously. I’ve been single for a long time, to the point where I’m pretty sure there are primary school children who’s parents were writing terrible single life blogs when I last had a serious romantic relationship. I really wish I could tell you dear reader that I was “doing me” but to be honest, I certainly wasn’t*.

I spent a good portion of the 2012-2015 wallowing about a girl I liked who only saw me as a meal ticket to do her university assignments for her. So naturally I am an idiot, this hasn’t changed, however, I won’t ever put myself in THAT situation again. I’m overweight but working on it, and I will say often and loudly that I look like a foot. So what’s an overweight dude who looks like a foot to do? Try to be funny, fail at that, and be very nice. First it was a coping mechanism due to looking like a younger foot when I was 15, however it has turned into one of my defining features, which has lead to a lot of friendships, and not a whole lot of dating. I’m not proud of this next sentence reader, but let me tell you, I tried negging once, and my god I’m terrible at that, I just wanted to apologise the whole time, how do people do that? It’s so awful. That will be my question to you lovely readers, why is negging so prevalent, and why did you try it?

Now I’m not the kind of writer to just put in a flashy YouTube video and assume that my dearest readers will believe that I am incompetent at love, so I have attached some handy examples below of the kinds of titles you’ll be looking forward to reading:

  • The Time I Lost My Virginity (and texted West Ham United’s team song to my friends)
  • That Time I Left My Car to Kiss a Girl I Had Already Dropped Home.
  • That Time One of My Best Friends and I Had Lots of Weird Sex Over Summer.
  • When Mr Ridley Jumped from a Second Storey Window to Avoid Sex.

There are cavalcades more of these awful adventures in dating, some are truthfully disgusting, some are depressingly sad, others are more the kind of awkward that gets a clearly (hopefully) non-disfigured man recommended to enter The Undateables. Well it’s either that or buy a farm.

Stay tuned for – Mr Ridley tries Tinder (Again…) and Mr Ridley has Another Close Friend.

I just want to be held.

*Crysterbation doesn’t count does it?

Welcome Back Mr Ridley (or How My Blog Just Became a Dating Blog)

Ridley Review: Tak3n [Spoilers]

Liam Neeson returns as “rocks or diamonds father of the year” candidate Bryan Mills in Olivier Megaton’s Taken 3, or Tak3n, a film which suffers mainly due to the fact that it shouldn’t exist. Following on from Taken (2008) and Taken 2 (2012), Tak3n takes us a happy place for Bryan, attempting to break from his predictable routine (for plot reasons later on in the film). However the first 20 or so minutes plays out like Middle Aged Divorce: The Movie, and I actually think it was the best portion of the movie¹. Neeson works best when playing men who have lost, or have something to lose and Bryan Mills has both in spades.

Absolutely Terrifying
Absolutely Terrifying

Naturally shit happens. Lenore (Famke Janssen) ends up dead, and Bryan departs on a sadness fueled quest to clear his name. Lots of people die, and Bryan wins the day despite being responsible for the deaths of dozens of people, not to mention several bystanders in highway chases and building explosions. I’m really hoping T4ken (20??)² is a character drama focusing on Bryan Mills PTSD from the events of the past films.

In all seriousness, Tak3n is a set and forget action film aimed at Neeson’s new target demographic. It feels like it wants to be a summer blockbuster but never lets itself have too much fun, we have nice banter moments with Bryan’s golfing special forces buddies, only to have a grim Neeson face staring at us as he jogs yet again. I feel like he only jogged twice, but it just seemed like a strange pacing decision.

In summary I give Tak3n 2 Ridleys out of a possible 5. See it if you like Liam Neeson, or you could just save your $10 and watch this³: 

I have to correct myself, the best part of the film was the theme song, enjoy it: 

¹with the exception of the heavy handed pregnancy crammed in to make us concerned for Kim Mills (Maggie Grace)

²Oh god, how can the world be so cruel.

³It feels like Olivier Megaton is attempting to add as many beats as possible which will make it into Neeson Season 2: Taken Boogaloo.

Ridley Review: Tak3n [Spoilers]