If I were to write chicklit....
One of the chapters will start like this:
" You know the common legend of walking in a crowded place when you suddenly stumble and kept from falling by strong arms of a good-looking stranger? This is then recounted as the tale on how you met your future souldmate? Well, that never happens. I should know, I tried.
I mean at most that one can achieve is your brand new expensive top becomes smudged with some sort of a raspberry-vanilla-hazelnut ice-cream concoction that never washes off and the tiny mostrosity with a lisp will loudly demand another portion as his had been ruined by the big bad villain, meaning you. So instead of apologising for her spawn's behaiviour, the obese hag will send you a look venomous enough to classify as a weapon of mass destruction and walk off with a huff dragging the little monster by his sticky hand.
That of course makes you wonder on why you embarked on trying to meet any handsome strangers at all if the end result will leave you looking like Barney the purple Dinosaur, whilst you try not to lose sight of the mutants who by age 5 have the agility of Spiderman on speed. Naturally, looking at thinner, younger inspiration of Sports Illustrated model will put you in the mood to scare off Grendel's mother. So why do we still pursue the hope of meeting good looking strangers in futile attempt to fulfill the illusion portrayed on the Mills and Boon's covers?"
" You know the common legend of walking in a crowded place when you suddenly stumble and kept from falling by strong arms of a good-looking stranger? This is then recounted as the tale on how you met your future souldmate? Well, that never happens. I should know, I tried.
I mean at most that one can achieve is your brand new expensive top becomes smudged with some sort of a raspberry-vanilla-hazelnut ice-cream concoction that never washes off and the tiny mostrosity with a lisp will loudly demand another portion as his had been ruined by the big bad villain, meaning you. So instead of apologising for her spawn's behaiviour, the obese hag will send you a look venomous enough to classify as a weapon of mass destruction and walk off with a huff dragging the little monster by his sticky hand.
That of course makes you wonder on why you embarked on trying to meet any handsome strangers at all if the end result will leave you looking like Barney the purple Dinosaur, whilst you try not to lose sight of the mutants who by age 5 have the agility of Spiderman on speed. Naturally, looking at thinner, younger inspiration of Sports Illustrated model will put you in the mood to scare off Grendel's mother. So why do we still pursue the hope of meeting good looking strangers in futile attempt to fulfill the illusion portrayed on the Mills and Boon's covers?"