Becoming a Groupon: buy a date with me!

Regular readers will be aware that I have been on a Groupon adventure. Last November, amidst the ruins of a numbingly dull life, I embarked on a coruscating journey through the magical wilderness of Groupon, doing a deal a week ever since.

About 100 deals, and 5 grand later, today I became a Groupon, so for the next week you can buy a date with me on the site.

At the time of writing you'll notice that 444 people have bought dates!And there's seven days left. In fact, the deal's been so popular it's caused havoc with servers around the world, for example this message a stranger sent me on Facebook:

Obviously, the price isn't too steep. I suggested that people might pay £10 to go on a date with me and Groupon laughed in my face. According to them I am literally worthless. I would suggest to any of my homeless followers out there that this might be a good chance to get a free meal. And a shag.

This morning I was front page on the Huffington Post, and made The Daily Star:

So it just shows you: dreams can come true.

The deal went live last night and within about half an hour I received a text from my ex-girlfriend informing me that her Dad had got involved:

I'm delighted to say that take-up seems to have been strong. A number of lovely ladies have been getting in touch on Twitter letting me know they've purchased:

I'm glad that a date with me constitutes an "all time low". I also got this message from a stranger on Facebook:

I resent that. If there's one thing I am not it's cheap.

This came in too:

(yes)

So it looks like I'm a heart-throb these days. But that isn't the only thing I've got in common with Johnny Depp, because according to Heat magazine:

They say, “If he can get a good price for something, he’ll go for it. He just bought a new barbecue for the patio of his house in LA.” 

Perhaps Depp might buy a date with me? After-all there's nothing sadder than a BBQ for one. Come on Johnny: you know you want to!

I'd prefer a woman, obviously. But if it's a bloke I'd rather it be Johnny Depp than some doorman from Gateshead. Not because he's so good looking, but because a man of his profile is much less likely to murder me. That's the thing: anyone can buy this date. I could end up going for a Nandos with an arsonist on day release, or a cannibal, or a Tory. I'm not sure what would be worse.

Or perhaps it might be an old flame? I had a PE teacher at school who took a bit of a shine to me, maybe he might make a bid? Having said that I am probably a bit old for him now. 

But in all seriousness, this sounds like it's going to be great fun and I'd love you to be part of it, so why not make a bid? After-all, what have you got to lose?Who knows, this could be my next Groupon:

FINALLY: 

Just a heads up: you can see my Groupon stand-up show in London on the 23rd and 26th of July. Tickets here.

And at the Edinburgh festival in August. Tickets here.

Can I become a Groupon?

Readers of this blog will know that all year I’ve been immersed in a Groupon adventure. Since November 2013, I‘ve done a different Groupon every week, and it’s changed my life. From a deep rut I‘ve slowly emerged a new man, having rediscovered my passion for life, resuscitated by the oxygen of new experience. I’ve done endless bizarre activities: colonic irrigation, spray tans, bee-keeping. I’ve visited psychics, become a Lord, and changed my name by Deed Poll to “Max Groupon”.

But it’s suddenly begun to feel a bit superficial. Groupon doesn’t hold the same mystique that it once did; I’m drunk on novelty and any more will make me sick. Back in November, I thought filling up my life with new experiences, new things, would make it feel less empty. I poured Groupons into my life, as if were a bucket, believing that once it was full I’d be happy again. But the thing is, I’ve realised that life isn’t like a bucket at all: it’s got a massive hole in the bottom. It’s more of a tube. You can never fill the bucket up, it’s futile. If you want to be happy, you’ve got to somehow transcend the bucket. It dawned on me that what I really need is love. And I thought: “Groupon has solved every other problem in my life, perhaps they can solve this one too?” So I’ve put out a plea to Groupon: help me find love by selling a date with me on your site. You can watch the video here, including footage of me trying to break into the Groupon offices..

Did they go through with it? Find out on The Tab next Tuesday. In the mean-time, here’s a story about one of the first Groupons I went on:

Alpaca Annie

In February last year I went Alpaca trekking in Kent. Apparently in a car-park.  Annie the Alpaca was very suspicious of me. It was like a really awkward first date.

You’ll notice I’m wearing an alpaca wool scarf there, which is adding insult to injury for the alpaca. That’s like going to meet a pig wearing a skirt made of bacon.

I think the alpaca trek is aimed at children, rather than 26 year old men. I know that because on the trek it was just me and a 7 year old girl. We got given some carrots to feed to the alpaca, but the little girl wouldn’t let me have any of them. And I honestly think she wouldn’t have given me any carrots if I hadn’t burst into tears.

The little girl was such a brat. She just wouldn’t stop talking, I couldn’t get a word in edge ways.

“Where’s his mummy?”

“Do alpacas go to school?”

“Does he do a wee wee or a poo poo?”

All questions that I wanted to ask, but couldn’t.

Alpacas are famous for their thick and soft fleece. The thing is, alpacas don’t like you touching it. In fact they don’t like you at all. They’re prey animals, meaning that everything is trying to eat them, which makes them really jumpy. I discovered fairly early on that Alpaca Annie was terrified of fart sounds, which was hilarious. Eventually, our guide Laura let the eight year old lead the alpaca around because I wasn’t “mature” enough.

Alpacas are very hierarchical animals, and walk together in a straight line like a woolly conga. If anyone tries get above their station and jump the line they get spat at. Yes: literally spat at. Alpacas have two stomachs (like cows, and Americans), and they regurgitate green bile from the first chamber and gob it at you. They’re like sheep with ASBOs basically.

A fun day ended with Laura giving me and the little girl our certificates:

After handing me the card, Laura also gave me a badge, with the words “Total Star”, written on it and then ruffled my hair. It was at this point that I realised Laura thought I had special needs. I didn’t say anything.