Strange Tinderlude: The Iceman Doesn’t Cometh Yet

No word from the Iceman since Sunday. We’re meant to be meeting this week, and it’s now Monday, which means we will have to meet on Wednesday or Thursday as tomorrow I have Plans. A magazine photo-shoot in fact, of which more later. And then am Abroad.
He was away in Iceland visiting his sons, the Iceboys, at the weekend. I can see them now, sharing a family bucket of RFP – Rekjavik Fried Puffin – “it’s finger lickin’ good”. Maybe the ex-wife, the IceMaiden is there too. She is six foot tall and wears her golden hair in Princess-Leia-plaited-buns and somehow manages to eat the greasy fried puffin with her beautiful fingers without dropping ketchup all over her long white draped dress.
“So, Thor, what did you do at school today?” The Iceman asks Iceboy 1.
Thor smiles up at his Dad. He’s 14 and already six foot two with big grey eyes and a mane of shaggy dark blond hair.
“School’s boring. Can’t wait to get to the stables everyday. I’ve been practising racing pace. My teacher says that one day I’m going to be World Champion and…”
“Thor,” the Iceman says in a tone of gentle but indulgent reprimand, “even world champion riders need maths and…”
“That’s not even true, Dad,” little Odin pipes up. He’s Iceboy 2, aged ten, a different sort of chap from his brother – a loner – he likes sketching the puffins. The Iceman and the IceMaiden are dreading the day which must be coming when little Odin realises that fried puffin used to be a real bird and announces his intention to be a vegetarian…

…Anyway – he was in Iceland with his boys at the weekend and now it’s Monday. Hurry up and get in touch, Iceman!

Whilst we’re waiting for the Iceman to arrange a date, here’s a message exchange with a new Bright Young thing, aged 25:

BYT: Hello there. Like a younger man, do you?
Me: I do, I recommend them
BYT: Mmmmm

So, either he likes 20 year old boys, or he doesn’t understand my brilliant joke. Sometimes it seems that my best work falls on deaf ears. “I put my genius into my life, only my talent into my work,” as Oscar Wilde would tweet or put as his Facebook status if he was trying to meet young men on Tinder these days.

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