21 Dates In 7 Days: Day 1

Hi again! I’m Jennifer Tolstoy and I’m a qualified plumber working mainly for Magnet Kitchens! Not really, but you’d be AMAZED how many people let you look in their kitchen drawers when you say that, and you’d be even MORE amazed at the kind of things I find!

It’s not always genuine Damien Hirsts – although you’d be surprised how often it is! – more often than not it’s just a scab that fell off onto a teaspoon, or a bit of soup that got flicked out of the pan when they did a sneeze.
Do you turn around when you’re cooking, and you have to sneeze? I don’t. It’s like I always say: the cooking process will kill the germs, and since I started my non-stop risotto diet, I don’t have the time to stop stirring. (Besides, the last time I turned around while sneezing, I whipped a trail of snot into a bridesmaid’s face, and she didn’t see the funny side for six years)


I read this article in ladybible Cosmopolitan about a girl who went on 21 dates in 7 days. Talk about sisters are doing it (with 21 men) for themselves! So I’ve set myself a mission. I am going to go on 21 real dates with men and write about them, like a big slutty journalist with both tits out.

The first thing you need to know about Julian Sands is that he’s NOTHING TO DO with the pre-legalisation homosexuals, Julian and Sandy. This was my icebreaker, and it went down worse than a bra bomb in a synagogue. I’d even made up this story about the first time I masturbated, where I called my fingers Julian and Sandy, and I’d written  a sketch to make it seem more fun (fun is very important to me)
Well, I’d learned the story by heart, so I told it to him anyway, just to get it out of my head. I also had to get Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance out of my head, because I’d heard it on the radio that morning, so after I’d sang that I went into my Julian & Sandy masturbating fingers sketch:

“Hello, I’m Julian, and this is my friend Sandy”
“Bona to vada your dolly old eek”
“Do you want to join me inside this meaty old mess?”
“I don’t know, it’s pretty crispy in there”
“How many different coloured fluids do you think the human body can produce?”
“I don’t know, but that swirl of translucent pink-tinged lime mucus, looped around what I hope for her sake is a labia majora, is almost hypnotic”

I love telling a story, I really get into it. But, you know when you’re telling a story, and you do the mimes? Well… I’d only hopped onto my back and started fingering myself! Julian was nowhere to be seen. YOUR LOSS, JOR-EL. Or should I say BORE-SMELL


The most excellent thing about Danny Wallace is his ability to pretend to live his life according to a set of arbitrary rules, and write a bestselling book about it.
Before I started kicking him under the table to let him know I was in a sexy mood, we got talking about some of the rules he had pretended to live by, until it looked like he might not get a book out of it. It was such an exciting insight into the Dannysphere that I forgot to eat my bagel! I’ve still got it in my pocket as a memento of that night. I’m not sure where the salmon’s gone, but who wants salmon in their mementos? NOT ME
2004 – Danny communicated entirely through Post-It notes left on the fridge
2005 – Danny shat in a hot air balloon and encouraged millions of housewives to do the same
2007 – Danny promised to accept and fulfil every sexual offer made to him, in a legally dubious mutual contract which he insisted meant that no-one  could legitimately withhold consent from him, either
2008 – Danny speared one of his nuts with a fork, and tried to pitch it to a hen party as a brand new game show
2009 – Danny mentally embellished every mundane experience with shocked and disapproving  reactions from imagined onlookers, and wrote about it in Shortlist
So, what does 2010 hold for Danny Wallace, I asked, my big hands forcibly milking the tips of my tits. His face lit up when I mentioned his name! “I’m pretending to go on loads of dates with fat bitches, to show how deep I am and learn a lesson about inner beauty. Fat bitches like you will lap it up, I reckon”
I’m well ahead of you, Danny Wallace! LAP LAP LAP


This was more of a dinner date, because neither Jennifer Aniston nor Jennifer Tolstoy (me!) are gay. But as famous Jennifers, we both have terrible luck with men, so we met up to swap tips. Needless to say we both learned a lot, so this is a powerful personal journey as well as a bunch of purposeless lies (AM I DOING IT RIGHT DANNY? PVT ME)
So, here’s some tips you can live your life by if you want to be famous and totally sex


1) Have secret late night phone calls that only a close friend who talks to women’s magazines knows about
2) Refer to your womb as a “biological timebomb” and draw families standing in front of a house during sex
3) Learn how to use the walls of your vagina to remove a condom
1) Smile though your heart is aching
2) Smile even though it’s breaking
3) Slash his coats up and put posters around saying he touches kids
DATING RATING: You can’t rate girl friendships, they are priceless and can even endure death if you are vampires
So, that’s three dates down! Who’s next? Will it be Laurence Olivier? The Archbishop of Canterbury? Maybe it’ll be you. Look at the reflection in your monitor. I’m standing behind you. WE’RE ALREADY ON OUR DATE

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