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There's a new type of bloke on the block who's getting single women's knickers all wound up. I'm not talking about the sleaze, the playboy or the womanizing wonder-man who has more notches on his belt than Tiger Woods. This new subset of men I've discovered are far less appealing and far more widespread. Introducing the recyclables: eligible single men who've already dated half your social circle and have warts-and-all horror stories being told about them all over town.

Like New York Yankee slugger Alex Rodriguez. After being dumped by Madonna, he dated Hollywood actress Kate Hudson and is now frolicking about with Cameron Diaz. He is never seen in a tabloid without a pretty blonde as a handbag and a smirk on his face.

While I have no doubt this man is built like a Greek God and has more charms than a Pandora bracelet, is he seriously that good? Do these (hot) women feel that there are no other men to date other than someone their friend (and half of Hollywood) has already done the dirty with? Is he a master player who knows all the right things to say? Or is it simply a case that there's simply not enough men to go around so we are forced to recycle...?

I once dated a gent who we'll call Mr. Ex. When we were alone he was Mr Perfect who would call me his "Princess" and actually offered to watch the film Clueless on our first date. (Strange, but true.) The trouble, I soon discovered, was that when we were out with his mates, he'd smash beer cans on his head, act rough and aggressive, drink his weight in vodka and ignore me the entire evening.

When I questioned his behaviour the following day, he explained that his mates didn't like it when he had a girlfriend so he pretended we weren't together when they're around. "During my last relationship, my girlfriend and I sat home every weekend on the couch," he told me. "I lost all the respect of my mates. It won't let ever happen again with anyone else. Including you" ...

I'm not sure when husband hunting became a bona fide sport. But when biological clocks start to tick and loneliness sets in, the hunt begins. Clubs and pubs become a jungle of eligible males (or a string of disappointing dates) as women flash their assets and dart their eyes around in hopeful search of "the one".

But why? What's so great about getting married anyway?

According to authors Cynthia S. Smith and Hillary B. Smith of Why Women Shouldn't Marry: Being Single by Choice, the answer is not much.

"Why on earth should you allow a man to move in on you, bringing his demands and idiosyncrasies that force you to reshape your life into his image?" the authors And perhaps they have a point ...

"He made my life hell."
"She killed my self esteem."
"He cheated on me. Twice!"
"She kicked me out of the apartment and threw my stuff out the window."
"He was mean to my dog."
"I want her back!"
"Why doesn't he want me back?"

We all know the feeling of being in the throes of a break-up and still clinging onto the past. But, says Stephanie Klein, author of the brilliant break-up memoir Straight Up and Dirty, not getting over someone from your past is akin to carrying a corpse in the cargo of your boat while trying to reach a faraway destination.

So here's a quick question for Ask Sam readers: who here is carrying a corpse in their boat? Because, unfortunately, it doesn't matter what the other person did to piss you off or why the relationship ended, the fact is that, for some unknown reason, break-ups seems to hurt like a motherf---er, no matter whose fault it was. And suddenly the thought of letting go or moving on is a faraway dream akin to the invention of painless bikini waxes ...

The other day a friend of mine whom we'll call Dana, met a man at a bar. He was cute, muscular and tanned. He told her he was a banker. He bought her a drink. They talked for hours. She felt a connection. When he rang her the next day, she was elated. They set a dinner date for a week later. After two days of riveting conversation, he said he had to see her that night. She was flattered. At the bar that night he said he had a confession to make. Dark thoughts ran rampant through her mind. Was he married? Was he gay? Did he have an STD?

"I'm not really a banker," he told her. "I'm in sales. Are you going to leave now?" She didn't. But she wasn't impressed either.

"What the hell is up with modern men and all their games?" she asked me the following day. "I mean seriously. Lying about their job to impress a woman? Is it now about the size of their career not their brain or their hands? What's the deal?"

Here's a news flash in case you missed it: Lady Gaga has quit having sex. "I'm celibate," she recently told Britain's Daily Mail. "Celibacy's fine." Her reason? Quite simply that she's single and so she doesn't feel the need to bonk a random for the sake of it. "It's OK not to have sex," she said, "It's OK to get to know people."

Indeed it is. Yet, while her anti-sex declaration might seem at odds with her overtly sexual image, raunchy outfits and habit of gyrating on stage to lyrics so crude that some countries have blocked them from their airwaves, it seems she's not the only one going on a sexual diet.

Serial singletons the world over, who are tired of all the emotionless romps, seem no longer to enjoy casual sex, random encounters or drunken escapades in the name of a little "ooh ahh" as they once did. While it was once deemed to be "liberating", "empowering" and orgasmic to do the dirty with someone you just met at a bar, it has turned into Groundhog Day with forgotten names, awkward goodbyes and emergency STD tests the following day ...

Last week, there was a hullabaloo over a recent study of women in their 20s carried out by More magazine, which discovered that women believe the ideal age to get married is 26. (Say what!?) And after a quick nip over at Google, it seems that everyone from 17-year-old Miley Cyrus to 29-year-old Kim Kardashian to the average working girl is desperate to tie the knot.

Many women I speak to make no secret of the fact that they are on the perpetual hunt for "the one". Cries of "I just want to meet my husband!" can be heard ricocheting across the office water cooler as single girls band together in search of the bloke who's going to buy them a diamond and say his "I dos" sooner rather than later.

But over on the other side of the nuptial coin, bitter marrieds and jaded spouses are grappling with another conundrum: how to deal with a marriage that doesn't seem to be all chocolate dipped strawberries ...

"Do you believe once a cheater always a cheater?" A girlfriend whispered the question to me the other day while we sat idly waiting for a bride and groom to walk down the aisle at a wedding reception. The couple, who were about to say their "I dos", are so sickly in love it's enough to make one want to gag - especially someone fresh from a break-up like my friend. Now she was wondering whether or not she should even entertain the idea of dating a man who had cheated on his last girlfriend.

Personally, I wasn't so sure. If someone can do it once, will they do it again? Or was the whole cheating escapade just a symptom of a bad relationship? And if so, will a good relationship prevent him from giving into temptation the next time around?

Professor of Psychology John Buri writes in Psychology Today magazine that it all depends on the type of affair taking place. He reckons there are four types of affairs, all with different reasons and consequences ...

There's a man I know; let's call him Paul. Over the years he's learnt that, to get what he wants - regular sex from a woman - he has to form some sort of a "relationship". And so he fakes one. Or two. Or five. All at once. He manipulates women into thinking that he is the perfect man by wining, dining and treating them with the perfect blend of chivalry and bad-boy-turned-good persona.

"I've changed," he purrs lovingly to each and every one of them. "And you've been the one to change me." Cue female hearts melting, skirts lifting and hearts breaking.

Paul doesn't rush these women. Oh no. He moves slowly and stealthily, knowing very well that slow and steady wins the race. Or at least another blow job.

"Wow, he's waited so long!" the unsuspecting women say, clapping their hands in glee, imagining themselves walking down the aisle and what their babies might looks like.

"He must really like me!" Or worst of all; "I think I might have finally found 'the one'!". And so they succumb to sleeping with him. And he laughs smugly to himself when another one bites the dust ...