King Of All Media

In the new year I am going to make much more of an effort to get a job...eventually. I don't need one right now as I don't really need any money: My rent and alcohol is funded by the Student Loans Company, and my food by the lax security at my local Tesco. I just need a job when I graduate, whenever that'll be: I've been at uni four years yet I'm only a second year, at this rate I can have a joint 30th Birthday/Graduation party. But when I do graduate I'll need somewhere to work.

I don't just want any old job. I've had "real" jobs, not "real" in that you get up at 6 a.m to dig ditches or mend stuff, don't be crazy. No, my "real" jobs were in air-conditioned offices, talking to people on the phone, liaising, meeting, collating, truncating, eating, sitting etc. I don't want that kind of job either. I want to get up at noon, eat cereal all day and write stuff. I want to write stuff, good stuff, with words that are good and stuff. I know I can do it. That's why I've decided to get out into the world. I'm going viral, this does not mean that I'm going to stop wearing condoms (I never did), it means that I'm going to be all over the internet. I want to be displayed over the internet more than I've sprayed over the internet (1,00,256, 657 hits and counting).

I'm going viral in a number of ways and stuff. I think it's called "going viral" cos you have to whore yourself out (please, please, please read/watch all my stuff. I also sell sex on the internet).

- This Blog

   You're reading it so it's pretty clear what it does. I write stories (hilarious ones), I write opinion pieces (I think this piece is hilarious), basically, I write stuff to make people laugh. I write it as a version of myself so I can make stuff up. I can also use this character version of me to say offensive things about people, things that if I get pulled up on I can blame on "Richard": Which Richard has multiple personalties? Which Richard doesn't trust that Japanese? Which Richard is a misogynist? Which Richard frequents prostitutes? Richard doesn't know, "Richard" doesn't know, and I don't know (Though I do know that, Miso Horny, his Japanese courtesan is a cunt).

- My Other Blog (http://versechorusverse-flus2006.blogspot.com/)

   I want to be in a band called "Cum N Thunder". I want us to be the biggest band in the world. I want the whole world to hear our music, watch us play (Suck my cock) and buy the T-shirt. I've already designed the T-shirt btw: On the front it will have the C 'N' T logo, beneath it is "All that's missing is U". Perfect. Anyway, I don't play any instruments and I can't sing for shit, so I write lyrics and post them to my blog. If anybody would like to join the band then please contact me, you could put the U in C'N'T.

- My Tumblr (http://flus2006.tumblr.com/)

   This is a mood board for when I'm bored, hence the name "Mood Bored"- brilliant. It's basically a collection of stuff, grouped together based on what I'm feeling like that day. Example, if I'm hungover after a huge night out then I might post acoustic music, recipes for hangover food, photos of my vomit. If I accidentally shoot a pelican in the face in Regent's Park then I might post videos of pelicans that haven't been shot in the face, sad music, a picture of my vomit -You get the picture (of my vomit).

- My Twitter (http://twitter.com/#!/flus2006)

   I thought this would be good at showing off my improv ability. You have a limited space so you have to be quick and sharp, two things I'm really good at- There was this one time when a girl came up to me and said "A girl walks in on her dad taking a piss and asks "Daddy, daddy, why don't I have one of them between my legs?" and the father responds "wait til your mother goes out"" She dipped her finger in my drink and licked it "Now, do you want to show me what he meant by that?" and I said "I know I am but what are you!"- it's that kind of classic banter that Twitter was designed for. Follow me.

- The Youtube

   Me and a friend of mine have bee writing sketches to be filmed and uploaded to Youtube. We should be filming some in early January. I can't tell you what they're about because I'll ruin them for you, just imagine they're like "Harry & Paul", except not absolute shite**

**DISCLAIMER** Richard Howarth can't guarantee that you will like his sketches more than those seen in the "Harry & Paul" television show. He can guarantee they will be better, but has no control over your terrible taste. What? Those pricks from "Little Britain" have a new show (Exhibit A, the defence rests).

- 

Love is.....

She looked up at me with those eyes. Those eyes that conveyed so much; So often they looked angry, mischievous, sad, happy, but at that moment they looked innocent. Just innocent. I looked deep into those eyes. A tear formed in one corner and rolled down her cheek. I had nothing to say, I just leant back and stared at the ceiling. What could I say?

I didn't know what to say. What was I supposed to say? Did she want me to say anything? I thought of what she  might want to hear:

• "Within you I lose myself. Without you I find myself wanting to become lost again."
•  "The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."
• "Make me immortal with a kiss."
• "It's so easy, To think about Love, To Talk about Love, To wish for Love, But it's not always easy, To recognize Love, Even when we hold it.... In our hands."
• "The only true gift is a portion of yourself."

I thought about saying all that but I thought that poetry was a bit gay. And by that time I'd come anyway so I just said thanks and told her not to kiss me straight after.

The Rules Of Comedy Pt.1

I maybe no athlete. I maybe no looker. I maybe no clever. I maybe a loser. I may be crying right now, but the one thing I do know is......Thai hookers....and comedy. Thai hookers and comedy. Though I would love to teach you the in and outs (literally) of the Thai hooker trade, I'm going to teach you the art of comedy so that you can get pussy for free (not really). Once you know the rules, you'll be ready to be laughed at just like me.

Rule 1: Timing 

Comedy is all about timing. In my previous blogs I've made no secret of the fact that I can go for 72 seconds at intercoursing a woman. 72 seconds isn't funny, it's god damn impressive (and inexpensive if paying Fook pro-rata). Not coming at all isn't funny. So the first rule of comedy is to find the middle ground, somewhere between not coming at all and coming after a marathon 72 seconds lies comedy gold. Choose wisely,  remember that odd numbers are funnier than even ones and that 69 is not funny. Oh, the answer was A, coming in your pants.

Rule 2: Rule of Three
When you give anyone a list of anything, always make the third thing the punchline, e.g cocaine, Thai hookers, sleep. You always make the third one the punchline regardless of whether the list has three items or more- The first thing is real, the second is irrelevant, the third thing is the one that makes them laugh (hopefully). The only problem with this is that you need a reason to list a number of items, this won't happen all that regularly unless you're a contestant on Family Fortunes. You should always take your opportunities to use this rule, your chances will be few and far between. Oh, the question was "Name the top 10 things you do at night?" (The Howarth family won £37).

Rule 3: Subtlety
Often comedians overstate something or decide to be too loud or too big as they're nervous that the audience won't laugh if they are too subtle. Subtlety is the key, don't ram your bigness down the audience's throat (that was a cock joke for those who didn't get it. I'll give you time to re-read it. Did you get it this time? I know, it was very subtle). You should draw the outline and let the audience fill in the gaps.....less is more. NEED I SAY MORE. NEED I SAY MORE.

Those are the first three rules of comedy, more will follow. The reason that I'm only giving you three isn't that I can't think of any more (I can), or that I can't be bothered to write any more at this time (I can't), it's because you should always leave people wanting more. That's more of an unwritten rule of comedy; Always leave people wanting more..... Though I will write it down at some point as it's a good space-filler.

Writer's Block

I know that you think that I'm a dick-hole for writing about having writer's block but this is the only solution I could come up with. Usually I write these blogs in about fifteen minutes after I get out of the shower, but I haven't written anything since my last blog two months ago (despite having upwards of 12 showers in that time).

The main facets of my blogs are truth and humour. Now I'm certainly as truthful as I ever was (I don't trust the Japanese. I don't like using condoms), I think the problem is that I'm just not funny any more. It's not that I've lost my sense of humour, I saw an elderly woman fall down some stairs the other day, laughed so hard I nearly pissed myself.....she did, I think she burst her catheter....hilarious. I think the problem is that I've lost my ability to create, though this is only limited to writing (I've already paid for 3 abortions this month).

I don't know what to do to get my creativity back. I've looked at other artists and tried to use some of their techniques to get back the magic- I tried shitloads of absinthe like a 19th century painter but afterwards I could neither hold a pen or use a keyboard (I did paint a six-foot cock on my wall in shit but Damien Hurst had already done that); I tried smack like jazz musicians but then I was too busy giving blowjobs for more smack to write anything; I tired LSD like Lennon and McCartney but I was too busy giving blowjobs to a pink, inflatable dragon to write; I tried crack like Pete Doherty but I was too busy sweating uncontrollably to give blowjobs.....I mean to write anything. I had to give up trying drink and drugs to help me write as I had a nasty RSI injury, sadly not from writing too much.

It's always been my motto to look on the bright side of life, though due to a recent injury I find it difficult to move my head, whether it be towards the bright side or not. I just hope that I can eventually write something new- I'm not a greedy man, I don't want to write Arrested Development or anything that good, just the asswater I usually produce would be fine........now, is it true that one of the Proclaimers would smoke crystal meth while his twin brother mercilessly beat a woman? And if so, which did which and who was the creative one?

The World At Large

My mother was a single parent, technically my father was too, neither of my parents are conjoined twins. As a single mother she didn't have a lot of money and was unable to take me on holiday. I dreamed of going somewhere outside of Preston, somewhere different, somewhere sunny. Anyway, after months and months of saving my mother scraped together enough money for us to go to Rhyl. It was cheaper to go during term-time so I would have to take time out of school. Run, swim, cycle, I did everything, everything I could to get to school while my mother was in Rhyl. I made the right choice.

Ever since I was young I've wanted to go to Australia. I have family out there and my mum would often visit them, unfortunately she could never afford to take me. I remember once I tried to hide in an empty suitcase so I could go, my mother said it would be fine for the way there but that there would be no room for the cocaine on the way back.

One winter my mother was packing to go to Australia when she stopped and and said she had a surprise. She had bough me a ticket to spend Christmas in Australia. I remember sitting on her knee and asking her what Australia was like. She told me that it was the exact opposite side of the world and it was upside down. I asked her how people walked around if it was upside down, she said that they had to wear special space-shoes designed by NASA, I was so excited.......sadly I couldn't go in the end as I had A-level exams in early January.

I'm now 23 and have yet to leave this country, though I have had my foreign experiences. The first woman I slept with was foreign, German I think. She had limited English and I speak no German but we bonded over our mutual love of Jurgen Klismann, she said she loved the way he dived head-first into turf whenever he scored.....I said that it seems a little redundant if you've already scored but I was a virgin and eager to please. I got her sufficiently drunk and it was on, I took my clothes off and started to get down to it, she started screaming "nein, nein" (German for nine, nine, I think). I said "thank you very much, I'm more of a seven and a half but thanks anyway". I woke and and she was gone. I later tried to contact her on facebook but she rejected my friend request and sent me a message calling me a "rapist", which I think is German for "quick in bed"- but hey it was my first time.

Sticking Two Fingers Up To Statistics

I read somewhere that 59% of women in relationships don't care if they don't regularly come during sex with their partner. That, to them, it was more about the intimacy and the physical act of love than actually having an orgasm. Unbelievable! (though it might not be true, 70% of statistics are made up). I feel as though men aren't doing their part (with their part). I think that women, like men, should come every time they have sex- I like to come twice, once in my pants to desensitise me, then again after an impressive 72 seconds of sexing.

I was worried that I wasn't giving the women that I romance inside the most pleasurable of experiences, that though I can last over a minute, it might not be enough for her. I decided to give out a questionnaire afterwards, asking them what it was like having sex with me- The women could fill it out anonymously and place it in a sealed box (I did know who'd written what though cos I emptied it after six months to see what she'd written). The results weren't good, here a few of the comments, "The mirrored wall is off-putting, especially him winking to himself", "I don't think the red light means the camera is off", "He was like a retarded squid on top of me", "I resent the word "with" it was over so quick that I don't feel I participated."

I bought more mirrors, hid the camera better and waited for a chance to practice. 7 months went by. I was on Amazon one day and they suggested that I buy a book on how to orally pleasure a women, it was called "Women come first" by Ian Kerner. I angrily rang them up and asked them who'd they'd been talking to, told the guy that I'd carried out my own questionnaire and the results were very positive. I then broke down and cried for 36 minutes. I bought the book.

The book arrived and I decided to finger through it in my own time (which is one of the things I'd been doing wrong). The book was excellent and very thorough. It used clinical, biological terms as not to excite the reader or eroticise the material, the only problem with that is that I'm a man- words like perineum, fourchette and mons pubis have never sounded so erotic. By the end of the book I couldn't even eat half a melon without blowing hot and cold on it first.

I'd read the book and it was time to put the knowledge in practice. What the book doesn't tell you is that the timings don't need to be so accurate, or the girl so "experienced"....anyway I lost my watch. Couldn't find it. She left some terrible comments on the questionnaire but called me three days later, she still hadn't found the watch but now she comes like clockwork.

Anyway, if the statistic that I read is to be believed then she might not mind if she doesn't come, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't mind. You might not be able to last the marathon 72 seconds that I can but you should still make an effort- Don't be satisfied with a sloppy job (which is what you'll get if you can make her come).

The Art of Seduction: A Misogynist's Guide

As a man who has intercoursed literally some women, my knowledge of seduction is boundless (N.B if you do need to bind the woman to anything then she is not fully seduced). I will take you through the key steps in the seduction process, helping you to attract women who were previously unavailable to you e.g the sober or sane ones.

Step 1: Where?
The place you choose to meet the woman will wholly determine the kind of woman you meet and the type of relationship you have with them. If you want a lasting relationship with mutual respect, love and understanding, then you should go.......... and fuck off. If you want to meet a woman in a club, have drunken sex that you'll forget by morning but be reminded of by a rash, then read on.


Step 2: Finding Your Woman
Choosing your ideal woman isn't easy. I have three criteria that every woman has to meet, is she alive? does she have an accepting orifice? is she definitely a woman this time? As long as she passes all three then she's fine by me, though I'm no saint, I have compromised on those criteria in moments of desperation, but we all get lonely sometimes (and horny at funerals).

Step 2: Scent
Women can smell other women. This doesn't necessarily mean that you should shower more, unless they can smell Eau de Cologne then a shower wouldn't go amiss. It means that, like a good club, you should always keep a queue (though a one in, one out policy isn't always necessary). Remember, the longer you keep them waiting outside, the better they imagine the inside will be- Don't worry though, the prospect of performing doesn't scare me, I give the same sensuous, passionate and disease-free 72 seconds to every woman that's lucky enough to get in line.

Step 3: The Approach/ Chat-Up
Chat-up lines aren't as fashionable as they used to be, but they still work. I don't have a standard one that I use all the time, instead I rotate a few classics. I'll give you a selection of them for you to get started, though it is better if you have your own tailored to your personality.
- Nice shoes, wanna fuck
- I wanna feel your bellybutton from the inside
- Do you wanna come home with me tonight, then have difficulty walking home tomorrow (you imply that you have a massive cock, instead you steal one of their high-heels to masturbate to later)
- I want to wrap your legs around my head and wear you like the crown you are. I will also be licking your vagina, I don't know whether that was implicit from what I initially said (not as succinct as the others, but still works).
- Have you ever modeled cos I'd really like to fuck you

Step 4: Sealing the Deal
Once you've got over the initial approach then all you have to do is not fuck it up. Women like to dance and talk, talk and dance. All you have to do is make sure she's drinking as much as she's dancing and talking, and you're pretty much done. You can also do little things like implying you're rich and have a massive cock, but these have to be done very subtly, try this "I didn't realise that extra-large condoms were so much more expensive than normal ones, my mate was shocked when he found out how much I have to pay, but money doesn't matter to me cos I've got so much of it....I also give loads to charities. Fancy another drink? You're not already too drunk. TAXI!" - very subtle. Job done.


Step 5: Getting Home
A girl will usually be more relaxed in familiar surroundings so going back to hers would be more conducive to an enjoyable evening for her, this would also mean that she wouldn't have to do the walk of shame the next day, so would seem like the gentlemanly thing to do.....so don't do it. If you can, get her back to yours; no sneaking out, no walk home. When getting to yours always get the fastest mode of transport, this will usually be a taxi. This is no time to be cheap. Public transport is slower and better lit than a taxi, she may have time to sober up or see what you look like beneath the florescent lights. Treat her like stolen goods, get her back to your safe-house and plunder your treasure before the authorities are alerted (in this almost perfect analogy, the authorities are her conscience).

Step 6: Getting Her Out
All you have to do is pretend to be asleep, she will wake up and sneak out. To prevent her trying to wake you for directions to the nearest tube station or taxi rank, draw a large map on your wall with clear indications of how to get to the tube, bus, taxi. Remember that women don't have the same capacity for spacial awareness that men do, make the map very easy to understand (N.B do not provide an audio tour or the bitch will just steal you ipod).

There you have it. The 6 step plan to intercourse a lady. If you have followed this plan and have been unable to sex on a woman then I will not take responsibility; If even blind-drunk women think they're out of your league then it's time to hit the gym..or plastic surgeon.

Peace and fucking.

The Greatest Night Of My Life

Our eyes locked from across the bar. I broke the stare to check out the rest of her. She looked cheap. She looked cheap in a way that suggested she'd done stuff in the presence of clergymen and animals. She looked cheap in a way that made me want to drape her over furniture.
I smiled to her and she smiled back, she then picked the olive out of her drink, put it between her teeth and sucked the pit out. I looked towards the floor and smiled to myself. When I looked up she had her whole fist in her mouth, she was my kind of girl. 


I went over and introduced myself. I shook her hand (still wet) and asked her what she was drinking. She told me it was an Astroturf (creme de menthe, creme de cacao, milk, chocolate syrup) - She told me that it was named after her, cos once you lay it, it stays around forever. I told her I'll get her a Tumbledryer (vodka, milk, baileys, creme de cacao and kahlua)- I told her that it's called a Tumbledryer cos once you drop a load in it, you don't need it for a couple of days. Get used to it!


The drinks flowed and so did the conversation. She told me that in highschool they called her "Titanic" cos so many men had gone down on her, I said "Oh, I thought it was cos you were full of seamen" - she just laughed (we were both right). Then she gave me a piercing look (she was also staring intently behind me due to her lazy eye). The one that was looking at me cut me to the core. She took her hand and traced a finger down my cheek, she then cupped my face and said "I want you to fuck me whilst shaking me like an English  au pair"- I've never felt so turned on.


The evening moved on and we moved back to my place. Now, a gentleman doesn't divulge  intimate details, let's just say that  I banged her four times and then called her a taxi. I'm no gentleman.


The only reason I'm telling you this is because until last night that was "the greatest night of my life".......last night I took Crystal Meth.

What Men Think About

Women like to quote the fact that men think about sex every eight seconds (72 seconds during sex), they band that fact around like it's a bad thing. But what if sex didn't mean sex? What if sex meant "volunteering for a children's hospital" or "buying your girlfriend an expensive gift" then it wouldn't be so bad would it? Think about that the next time you bang on about our overactive minds- if sex meant "god, I really love my girlfriend" then you'd wish we thought about it every second.

Now, our female friends may be of the opinion that we don't think about sex when we're with them, that our overactive libido's and perverted minds wouldn't stretch to them whilst we're having a Platonic chat. Well Platonic relationships between men and women fall into three categories: women we don't want to sleep with, women who've said that they don't want to sleep with us and women who we haven't yet thought about sleeping with. If you are in the third category, you won't be for long; attractive female friends are like having a doughnut in the fridge: You'll ignore it for a while, you'll try other foods, but eventually you'll realise that you have a doughnut in your fridge (F.Y.I-Doughnut eating and lip-licking may be fun but sleeping with your friends is a bad idea).

On meeting an attractive women there are certain things that go through a man's mind: How fit is she out of ten? What does she look like naked? What are the chances she'll sleep with me (sober)? These are questions that come in to our mind and are answered almost subconsciously, we know the answers as soon as we see the new woman - It's instinct. Now, I can't speak for all men so I won't, but I will speak for the strange man sat in my chair (me). I like to go beyond these questions and go into a little more detail: What type of underwear is she wearing? What do her nipples/areolas look like? What is the pubic hair situation? - I find it fun if I do get to see them naked (rarely), I like to see if I was right. Now, whether I'm just the shittest guesser in the world (possibly) or whether I just don't know women's bodies (more likely) I never get it right. You're hoping for small nipples and areolas and a tight landing strip. You get areolas the size and texture of chocolate-chip cookies with nipples like monkey's fingers, and pubic hair so thick Ray Mears would get lost...... The fun is in the guessing....and then in the fucking (for me anyway, I don't know/care what she's thinking).

Now you know what I'm thinking if I meet you, provided you are an attractive women (If not then I'm wondering if you have any fit friends). Don't let this put you off talking to me though, I might be a pervert and I might think about sex every eight seconds, but I think about football and cars too. Ladies, form an orderly queue.

Thoughts For The Day

• I don't care what you say, I think the Japanese are up to something.

• I prefer a blue pen.

• Men shouldn't wear 3/4 length shorts.

• I like cleansing (ethnically)

• I just don't like live theatre.

• Sausage dogs aren't a tasty as they sound.

• Vodka & lemon Fanta is a great drink.

• I prefer a city break to a beach or ski holiday.

• A lot of men like women in thongs; I'm more of a feminist, I think women look best when they are completely naked.

• Canadian bacon is really nice.

• I like running at night.

• Two fingers are about right, three on occasions, four is time for a new girlfriend.

Inconvenient Truth

There are certain things that we allow ourselves to believe despite the shaky ground upon which they are built: "It's the biggest I've ever seen", "No, the red light means the camera's off" and the classic "I don't think you're too drunk. TAXI!". We allow ourselves to believe these truths because questioning them or finding the actual truth out will severely hurt our fragile ego's, shatter our perception of who we are or make us feel dirty or used (not in the good way).

There are the certain truths that we have established ourselves. Over our lifetime we have defined ourselves through the way that people react to us and by comparing ourselves to others. It's through this process that I've realised certain things: I realised that I was male because I earn more than most my colleagues. I realised that I was white because a policeman hasn't stopped and searched me for no reason. I realised I was ugly when I broke the world speed-dating record (200 women in three minutes). I realised that I had a sense of humour because I often make women laugh (though afterwards they cry and shower for hours).

There are, what I like to call, "assumed truths". These are the "truths" that we don't want to know, we assume we know. For instance: Your girlfriend tells you she's had boyfriends before. The way she says it makes you want to ask, but also that you shouldn't. In your head you assume it's only two or three, they had tiny cocks and always wore a condom- You don't actually want to know the truth. You don't want the truth. YOU COULD'NT HANDLE THE TRUTH! The truth is; It's actually 28 guys, you're 26 and her "Yoga night" is 27 (downward facing dog indeed) , your brother is 28. She fakes all her orgasms with you but never had to before. Your sex face scares her. **Always remember, in affairs of the heart ignorance is bliss....oh and that Sarah Thompson is a dirty, dirty whore.**

You need to know the truth, all of them. You need to know who you are and what you're capable of. It will make you much more decisive in your social interactions. Confidence is bred from you being comfortable in your own skin. If you have established who you are and augmented this with certain ego-enhancing "truths" that you've been told be others, then you'll be a confident and fully functioning member of society - sadly for me, that's the inconvenient truth.

Ambition

Ambition is the enemy of success. The likelihood is that the more ambitious you are, the less successful you'll be. The whole world is striving for perfection, aiming for goals that stretch far beyond their capacity and reach, this leaves them empty and unsatisfied (often blogging at 3 a.m). I will go through the various aspects of life that people care about, show you where you're going wrong and help you to be a happier, fatter, poorer person.

Love Life

When asked what they look for in an "ideal partner" most people's lists go on and on; Good-looking, intelligent, good sense of humour, good job, good family, fun, sexy, good in bed, not a rapist, etc, etc, etc - The list is too long and you'll be single for quite a while before you finally compromise on those choices and settle for someone you're not that into. You will eventually compromise, you'll find someone that you kinda like and that kinda likes you, and you'll both eventually learn to tolerate each other just so you can have sex and not spend your birthday alone.

Whereas my list is: female, speaks English, that's all...my last girlfriend was almost both of those. Single people need to simplify, if you're a baby-crazy woman with a ticking biological clock then all you need is a man with a penis that isn't sterile (I'm almost the perfect candidate). If you're a single man with one arm three-times as big as the other then all you need is a woman with an orifice (non-specific). In summation, don't go for the all-rounder-perfect-person cos there aren't that many to go around, it's just me, Jack Bauer, Daley Thompson, Cheetara, Shania Twain and Wednesday Addams.

Job

Every man goes through the same choice of "ideal job", when you're six you want to be Batman, at ten you want to be a footballer, fifteen Tony Montana, then you get to college and actually decide you want a sixty-year career in I.T. It makes sense, the closest you'll ever be to Batman is if your wife takes your six year old off you. The closest you'll be to a footballer is Eiffel-towering a bird with your mate taping it, and to Tony Montana, waiting for the guy with "the sniffles" to come out of the toilet. Grow up. Get a real job. Nobody really ever gets to be a footballer or Batman, but you could start training to be a plumber tomorrow. I know we didn't lay in bed dreaming of being a ditch-digger when we were kids, but there aren't enough special jobs out there. There is only one queen bee and millions of drones- The sooner you realise that you're a drone, the sooner you can drink your way to an early death.

There was going to be a lot more points filled with sharp observations but I couldn't be assed, the advice was so good that I even gave up writing it half way through.

Tara: What Happened.

I was sat in her car (which I paid for). She turned to look me (by turning her neck- it was that traditional style that I found so arousing, too many women in my past had used mechanical seats or a series of mirrors, but not her). I could tell that she was going to break up with me, I could see it in her eyes (plus I spotted her suitcase). I said "I know what you're going to say, I'll make it easy for you" I handed her a note:

Dear (insert name),

I loved you from the first moment I saw you (I assume). Pretty face (obviously), tits for days (hopefully) and an ass like a seven-year old boy (booya!). As you may know I was born with a hole in my heart (that's why it's a health risk for me to last longer than seventy-two seconds in bed) but you filled that hole, you filled it like cholesterol....and not just regular cholesterol but that good cholesterol that you get from food like foie gras. But now you're leaving me and the hole is even bigger (hopefully yours too, I did my best, it's hard to make an impact with only seventy-two seconds in the game). I just want you to know that you're the only woman for me......currently (disregard that statement if there was another woman).

I love you with all my broken heart (literally)

Richard

After she'd eventually finished reading the letter (her English still wasn't great). She looked up at me and cried a single tear. She had a fragility about her that I hadn't seen before...or since, subsequently she could only be described as "fiercely litigious".

Anyway, it turns out she wasn't going to break up with me, she was going to take me on a surprise holiday to Bermuda (this was not traditional, this was bang out of order). I had broken up with the love of life because she flagrantly disregarded the conventions of booking a holiday.

That's it, that's how it ended. Of course, if you read her blog on versions of events it may have subsequent chapters that sully my reputation (though I have no idea if she has a blog as my internet searches are monitored). If you should take anything away from this, it should be to never assume that someone is traditional in all the aspects of their life despite the erotic/traditional way that they turn their head.