I'm looking forward to meeting them.

According to the spark.com's sexuality test, I'm destined to have sex with a further 37 people before I die.

I just have to wonder if this is going to be one at a time, or all at once.
And if it is all at once, whether my subsequent death will be as a result.



p.s. Nobody tell Jenny, she gets fretful at such ideas.

The moment that God was nice to me...

I was just reminded about this, talking to someone else, and it made me smile to remember...

Some years ago, I was seeing a girl we'll call X. She was a Goth, and into Vampires, so it isn't impossible that some people on my list may know her, so I'll leave it anonymous for sake of safety.
Now X & I were a happy little couple for a while, until one night I was walking home (this was when I still lived in Manchester) and decided to pop round and see one of my friends - at about 1am. You can do this sort of thing when you're unemployed.

Walking past his house, I saw that his housemate was still up and on the computer so I knocked on the door and his housemate answered.
"Hello," , said I. "Is he about, or has he gone to bed?"
His housemate simply looked upwards, and from upstairs the sounds of vigorously creaking bedsprings could be heard.
"Lumme!" I said. "Has he got a girl?"
"Yeah.", was the reply. "Some goth chick called X"
"Hmmn", I said, keeping my composure. "About yea high, sqeaky voice?"
"Yes, that's her. You coming in?"
"No, I'm late, best be getting home."

And so it was I found about X's infidelities.

Subsequent conversations with her led to me discovering that she'd unanimously decided to shag several of my friends and hadn't mentioned it to me. When I asked why she hadn't told me, she said she hadn't wanted to upset me, which remains one of the great dumb statements of our time. Needless to say, we split up, and she ended up with yet another person (one I didn't know this time...)

3 Years passed. I moved to London, got work, earned momney, and went off travelling in Central America for a while. When I got back I went off to visit my parents and, one day whilst I was out shopping, I turned round to find myself standing next to her in the queue for the till.
There was a long moment.
We greeted with that strained amicability that you'd expect, and she indicated her bloke to me, who was short, ill-kempt, unwashed, and had a bumfluff beard (but I'm sure he made up for it in personality).
I asked her what she'd been up to for the last 3 years, and she explained that her bloke wasn't working, and so she'd had to drop out of university and get a crap job to support the two of them. She looked tired, pale, and slightly haggard.
"So", she asked. "What are you doing with yourself?"
"Oh," I replied, as casually as I could muster. "I just got back from three months in the Carribbean."

There are few moments that I genuinely believe God likes me, and that was one of them.