Looks like Denise Richards is getting back into the game. She's back on E!, amongst the rest of the throng of new reality series that taunt us from the couch on Saturday mornings.

The reason I'm hooked on Denise — we're on first name basis — is because you know that there's going to be wincing five minutes into the show. And now that she's back on the dating wagon, a train smash just may be heading our way. Now, that's entertainment.

She's leaning over beach balls, and going on blind dates. Ad infinitum. During last night's little gem, she says of her Pilate's instructor: "Ray thinks I want to have sex with him? You know?" And then in the same breath says she, "You'd think I'm over the bad boys, but… I'm not," while her date knocks back 8000 tequila shots in quick succession.

The types that screw you over

For women who are attracted to the bad boy types, I do feel for them. It's an affliction I know all too well. Not the ones who drive a Harley in top-to-toe leather, swigging from a Jack Daniels bottle, that's too much extremity. No, the types that screw you over, and you know they're going to the moment you lock eyes across a room.

It's where you have no control, and think: 'Nah. With me he'll be different,' and like a seafood surprise at the Zoo Lake Bowling Club, it hits you: You're paralysed by heartbreak because he's been shagging his colleague behind your back. And you're still surprised.

The only thing I can do for myself is be aware of the smooth talking. Is he smoother than your brother's chest? Yes? Run. Run now before you hit the 10-sentence mark.

The problem Denise Richards has, much like other women, is that she never learns from her mistakes. A serious form of retardation in the cut-throat world of dating. After a messy media-saturated divorce from Charlie Sheen, she's still going on dates with men who check themselves out in the mirror while she talks about bad divorce settlements.

Now, I could benefit from this perk if I was a celebrity, but a friend said to me the other day that there is a million-dollar industry based just on male dating and the coaching thereof. Books, seminars and more, dedicated to helping men get laid in 'four easy steps'. Closing the deal with the aid of wingmen, in an executed strategy.

It's that easy for a guy because they want to close a deal for just one night, not necessarily for eternity. Unlike the female of the species.

Do a little background research

Denise should cash in. She has a stylist, a personal assistant, a manager, an agent, a therapist. Hiring one more staff member to screen her throng of bad boy suitors should really be the next, and most sensible, step.

While her stylist pretties her up and her agent throws reality TV scripts at her, she should have at least one member of personnel, casting a visible man blockage that could save her time. And her heart.

"No Denise. I've done my background research. He loves himself too much. And he drives like a bat out of hell. On a litre of Red Bull." Now wouldn't that be useful? A personal dating coach?

Perhaps Hollywood has these already and there's a whole agency of dating coaches out there, cashing in, and being responsible for, true love. Or sweet, cookie-cut liaisons like Jennifer and Brad (before he got distracted).

They could all boast amongst themselves, and compare CVs: "Reece Witherspoon and Jake Gyllenhaal was all me." Or, "I reinvented Christina Aguilera. By introducing her to that rich guy… whatshissname".

It could, at the very least, be an interesting job.