A huge, big wave to you all after a very busy day (and ongoing complications with my dentist, who is very lovely, but who made a mistake today which is going to cost me time, money and ease of mind).
I always feel that once I've got through Monday the rest of the week is plain sailing...well, mostly.
Basseting, OldBook and all you other wonderful ladies...the red underwear anecdote I told you about could become the symbol of all red flags. You know, the weirdest, worst thing is that they didn't even feel like red flags the closer I got to him because he was so fascinating, so bright, so stimulating and so very funny. He was quirky and clumsy and yet so terribly affectionate.
Let me think about a few more examples;
All women were capable of destroying what men had painstakingly built on a whim with their emotional overreactions.
All therapists and sociologists were a complete waste of time and did nothing but cause destruction.
That he dreamt of seeing me wearing more classical clothes rather than my hippy gear (huge exaggeration of my style 
) and that my red handbag was dreadful.
The last night we spent together he went on about other women, sexually.
Ooh, this one is surely going to rile you all. We had this thing where he would kiss my arms...the kisses would end up like very light bites. Honestly, there was nothing painful about it at all but because I am pale skinned they would leave marks on my arms. One morning after a really intense night spent together he looked at my arms with a disapproving look and say 'God, you're so violent'.
His ex was a monster, his parents were fools.
I could go on...