Well, imagine my suprise when the following happened. I had been waiting for that elusive email from the one and only Amelia Hotpants for around 36 hours. Everytime the little signal that symbolises a new email flickered onto my screen, my heart rate increased and my brow went a little clammy, I can tell you, but for the first 36 hours all I was receiving was the usual spam offering good deals on extensions for my you know what down in my pants, free passes on LiveJasmin , and offers of blue pills that will keep your ol' fella going all night, and I had already ordered plenty of those. I even got an email from my good pen pal from Nigeria who communicates every now and then about his latest mishaps.

Feeling dejected, I sloped off to the window to see if I could spot Amelia getting up for breakfast, and waving the curtains aside and peering through the steamed up pane that was pinging with whipped up rain, I saw Doris ShortPants- Amelia's sister, tottering across the street in stilletos and spray on microshorts that were not leaving anything to the imagination. Doris, you might say, was fat mutton dressed up as plumped up lamb. Waves of blubber, squeezed out by the tight hot pants were riding down her legs as she wobbled across the road to our house. She was sporting a red and gold sparkly boob tube that was slipping down her drooping front and, spotting me with my mouth agape at the window, gave me a toothy smile, a little wave and a sultry wink. Well I rushed back to my laptop and double clicked on the "Sent" folder in my email and to my horror I realised that I had sent my email to Doris instead of Amelia. The stupid laptop must have automatically selected Doris when I keyed in HotPants or something, or perhaps it was a spell check. With increasing horror, I sped back to the windo realising that Doris must have thought that the doctored photo of my spotty face next to that heaving chest was a picture of me and her.

Now don't get me wrong, I had nothing against big ol' Doris, but she had a fearsome reputation where the boys were concerned and frankly I was filling my pants with fear at the prospect of her laying her famous sumo face smother on me. Not what I had imagined for my first trip into manhood. I had to think fast or at least run away...

Well, the first of my obsessions was a girl across the street called Amelia ShortPants. You'll see from her photo, that I decided to aim high at the beginning of my journey, and why not? Amelia was pretty much the image of my perfect mate that I had in my head. She was in all the magazines I was poring over anyway, and I took this photo though the window at 8 o'clock at night with my new 8m pixel Nikon camera with super zoom, ooh I luv me gadgets me perhaps thats why I am not getting laid.

Well, I reckon ol' Amelia HotPants saw me twitching my curtains and may have even seen the streetlight glinting off my 35mm-200mm super zoom with automatic focus, because she appears to have posed for this photo and didn't seem a shy type of girl at all.

Naturally I figured I had a great chance, so I hatched a plan to talk to the object of my drooling, and the plan was the following:

Having snapped such a fine snap of the lovely Amelia that could have featured on LiveJasmin, I figured she was the type of gal who would appreciate a photo of herself, so I loaded the image onto my laptop (12" screen, lovely set of RAM figures and a hard drive to die for) and super imposed a picture of my spotty face next to her heaving chest so as to give her a good idea of my intentions and leanings in the matter.

Now I happen to know Amelia's email address as I have been admiring her from afar for ages, and I did a google search on Amelia ShortPants and up it came, just like that- I think it was on a dating site or soemthing. So I attached my doctored photo of her well formed chest superimposed onto my spotty face and fired it off, just like that- fizz! off it went, whoopsie no going back now. Then I sat by my laptop and waited. And waited. And waited.....

Waking up this morning with the sun filtering through the curtains, I slowly opened my eyes and the tattered poster across the room came into focus. The usual teenage homage to a busty, gyrating uber pop star in tight pants and a skin tight boob tube mocked me across the room.

17 years old, spotty and still very much a virgin, I pledged to "seize the day", stop surfing around live web cam sites like LiveJasmin all day and pull together a cunning plan to change my situation and convert myself into Harry Hot Rod, whom no babe can resist, oh he with the muscular pecs, big fat wad and boner on tap under me hard man pants.

What follows, is a step by step and day by day journal of my travels: the girls I have singled out as the lucky ones and the ups and downs of my journey to find my mate. Hopefully, you'll be able to learn from my mistakes and gain some insights into the female of the species, or at least you'll gain some insights into the spotty males of the species. Let me know what you think.