Oh and before I forget

I heard two great things last night.

1)There is a scientifically proven relationship between short trousers and schizophrenia, fear the man in poorly sized trousers.

2)I got talking to a Doctor who had been in A&E earlier that evening with a lady who tried to kill herself with a syringe used for goats filled with lavender oil, in the groin. Think about that for a while, pay special attention to the words, goat, lavender oil and groin.

Crimble, billiards and letting go.

Christmas was ace, I ate more than my fair share, wallowed around in front of roaring fires and got a lovely new scarf. Get in.

I'm currently writing this from Norwich, I was invited up to spend New Year's Eve with a girl. She has the most beautiful flat in the world, it's a converted mill and outside my window is canal. Some people I know are horribly together. We've spent most of the weekend lounging around and then shopping. It's a jolly good combination.

Last night we drank four bottles of champagne and then ended up playing strip billiards. I won. Sadly just at the point when things nearly got decidedly interesting the girl started talking about her ex who she isn't over yet, it was two and a half years ago that it ended.

Girls are rubbish sometimes, I mean can't a chap enjoy a wholesome game of strip billiards with out the girl getting all melancholy? It's enough to turn a chap gay.

Wimbledon.

Last night I went a friend’s house and it was lovely. She has a beautiful flat in Wimbledon with cream carpets and that special sort of decorating that has hardly anything in any of the rooms but by Jove you know the items that are there are very carefully chosen. I felt that I should have worn a tie just to cross the threshold.

We drank vats of mulled wine, then went to the pub for pints of Guinness and then back to the flat for more wine and a bit of whisky. I’ve never been a whisky drinker but there was something nice about drinking something that is older than you are. We talked about all sorts of things, but mostly about our mutual friend B who we both adore and my friend, who I introduced her to, who then acted like a real cad. Honestly, some men make me feel guilty for being on the same team

We talked all sorts of nonsense and the real gem was Breadsticks.

I said that for me love was being with someone that you can wake up by sticking a breadstick up their nose. They would be annoyed and chase you just enough to make you collapse in to fits of giggles while they cover you in jam as revenge.

That’s what love is, breadsticks.

Hurrah!

I heard back from the Publisher yesterday, she loved what I sent over! It needs a bit of tweaking on some sections but it's all very good.

How did I mark this special occasion? By going to a friends house who was ill and feeding her soup and honey tea. Morally I should have been getting trashed on champagne and dancing around on tables but instead I was force-feeding clementines to someone and re-arranging pillows.

Still there is always tonight...

Time is passing.

Yes, I've been rubbish. I've been late, and honestly I just haven't been giving this blog the care and the attention it deserves. I'm sorry.

So what is new with me? It's party season so almost every night I've been out at one bash or another including some very ill-advised singing and also an encounter with someone that really shouldn't have happened. In my defence Y tu mamá también was on the telly and I had drunk far, far too much mulled wine

And if Christmas isn't the time for ill-advised sexual encounters then when is?

Apart from that there hasn't been much of note, I've sent over a load of stuff to the publisher so I'm waiting to hear back from them. It's a bit like when you hand your homework in at school, except in this case I actually care about getting a good mark. Yup, I've always been a rebel.

Strange times, and Amy.

I just spoke to my flatmate, he was in the Millenium Bar with Alexander Livtienko so he has spent the last week talking to the Health Protection Agency to see if he needs to be tested for radiation poisoning. He has all sorts of exciting letters assuring him that he isn't going to die.

He can remember bumping in to a very rude Russian chap in the bar but was rather busy enjoying his food rather than looking out for spy related activity in pubs.

Speaking of pubs, last night I saw Amy Winehouse, she was in Camden with us. Sadly I didn't talk to her, she was surrounded by a wall of people with bad hair and I was with friends so I couldn't really abandon them. But I have seen her in the flesh at least, she is tiny and rather gorgeous. Which is exactly the opposite of what I expected.

The poor lamb must have had a bit of a cold and a dicky stomach as she had the sniffles and was in an out of the loo all evening. I'm sure she will be be about some more, hopefully feeling a bit better.

Look it's really me

My new suit is amazing, so amazing that I think the people of the internet need to see it. This is going to 'out me', but I think it is worth it - you need to see these clothes.

Anyway, so this is me, and my suit.

I'm back

Yes, I know it has been a while but it was quite a trip. I hired a car (Which is excellent fun, I'd recommend it to anyone) and zoomed down to East Bourne for the wetting of a babies head. I stopped on the way to pick up a girl 'IP' (not quite in that way) in Croydon who ended up joining me on part of the adventure.

In East Bourne we met up with a load of my Brightonian pals and the new father. He was very jolly if a little tired looking and we drank suitable amounts of booze while talking nonsense. It's a bit strange to have one of my male counter-parts, who was wonderfully irresponsible become a grown up.

We drank a lot and then retired to The Bear's house for a bit more booze. I crashed out at some point in the morning mid way through watching a film with IP. We retired to our respective bedrooms (Bear has a very large, very nice house full of suits of armour and battle axes) for the evening.
Sadly Bear had to go off to work the next day IP and I were left alone watching films and eating toast. At about lunch time I set off for stage two of my quest, dropping IP off at a nearby train station.

The drive to Devon was fairly long but not too bad, I've done a lot of long distance driving and it didn't involve any strange mountains or dangers so it was quite calming really. I arrived at my mothers house at around 6pm and the relaxing section of my holiday began. I ate well, spent time with geese, dogs, ducks and cats and enjoyed not thinking too much. I also picked up a marvelous new suit (more on this later)

After a few days the time had come to visit my estranged father in Wales. This drive was a bit more tricky as I had only done it once before and then my little brother had been navigating. Surprisingly, I didn't get lost in the slightest. My father lives on a the top of a hill, down an extremely long, muddy track. It's so remote it makes the Overlook seem like a trendy boutique hotel in the heart of the city. He's house is ramshackle place full of goats and a very large dog, wind swept and faintly reminiscent of the village in Borat.

The meeting with my father was fraught, we don't really have a relationship and he isn't going to be around for very long so we have to have something, although what it may be is hard to say. We went for a drive in his car, it was supposed to be a visit to a Gold Mine ( I requested some quality time) but the mine was closed so it was a tour of Wales in a small car with a brief visit to the Irish sea.

It was weird, but okay really. I started to get a bit stressed half way through it but some how the rolling waves of the Irish Sea smashing on the black rocks of Wales was strangely calming. After that it got a bit better. I went back to his house and his new wife cooked us a rather good meal while my dad and I had a slightly terse conversation about work and things.

The tough part was reading a Macmillan book about dealing with cancer, it had a section on things to do when the end is near that was very troubling - that caused some tricky moments. Then I went to bed. I left early the next morning with out any breakfast (my choice) and set off on my way.

It was a quite harrowing experience but I had to do it. Hopefully it will be easier next time.

After that I visited an old flame and helped her decorate which was lovely. This old flame, lets call her K used to be an adult actress but is now retraining to be a plumber. I've never been one for DIY but it was really nice painting and talking, I'd recommend it as a date. You are doing something that is involving and it lends it self very well to polite talking. We chatted about all sorts of things, she revealed some real secrets to me. It was a nice way to spend a day and just about distracting enough to forget the other things.

We were painting till about 2am and then we retired to her bed on the understanding that nothing was going to happen. I don't think I've ever shared a bed with someone and been so careful about not touching them, it was positively Victorian. It was a fairly good nights sleep, we both had subtle notes of fresh paint in our hair but that rather added to the experience. The next morning I had a cup of tea and left for work (who were having a bit of a thing and needed me).

K looked lovely in the morning, I'd like to say right now that I think women look at their best when they are slightly blurry eyed when they rise. This goes for all women, the fluffy hair and slight air of lovable helplessness is very beguiling.

Work was manic when I arrived, it was like the end of days. I was stressed and looking rather rough as I had stopped at my flat only to drop off my suitcase, get a parking ticket and then take the hire car back.

It was a hard day, but it had been quite a week.

To there and back

Well, I'm off on a quest today, or at least tomorrow. I will be going to the South Coast first, across to Devon and then up to Wales. It's going to have everything - New Life in the wetting of the babies head in Brighton, excitement (I'm driving so it's bound to be thrilling) and then going to see my dad...

I shall come back a different person, there is no doubt of that. So I should probably pack an extra waistcoat.

You never get the truth from a liar.

A bit of a mixed day today, I worked my little socks off at work. It was silly, I did about a weeks work in a morning and then started doing other complicated yet cunning things. It's amazing how much you get done when you are forcing yourself to work instead of dealing with someone you don't like...

Anyway I went for lunch with the girl I caught having an affair, we talked about her chap situation, I'm the only person who knows so she can't talk to other people about it. And she mentioned what A's new boyfriend looks like, I'd met him.

It was like the bit in a film when it all comes together, my introduction to him at one of A's gigs was almost exactly the point at which she started acting all weird. So that was what was behind it all, and it all makes sense now. She had found someone else, of course she still wanted all the attention but she had her eye on someone else.

The Ice Queen agreed, she said that sadly when ever someone starts acting all strange on you suddenly it usually means they have met someone else.

So even when I had an evening of absolute truth with A, she still lied. Now all I can think about is how lucky I was to escape with just a few emotional cuts and bruises.

People are awful sometimes.

Beagles

I had a day off, and it was wonderful. In the morning did some writing - not as much as I should have but it was a day off after all.

Then I met a good friend near Regent's Park to borrow her Beagle for a couple hours while she was in a business meeting. Scrabble (the Beagle) and I trotted off to Regent's Park and spent a couple of extremely pleasant hours scampering around kicking up leaves and running around trees. The park was quite empty but I suppose that is to be expected on a slightly chilly and damp mid-week day.

It started raining and as Scrabble isn't a fan of rain (I do like opinions in dogs) we set off home. I briefly called a friend to see if she was about for a coffee (sadly she wasn't) and then got on the tube. Scrabble was an angel, and impressed all the fellow travellers.

I dropped the dog off to his owner who was meeting with some arty types (She is an art dealer) one of whom was very good friends with Andy Worhol. He had some very amusing stories to tell and was a very jolly sort talking with a broad New York accent and making huge gestures with his massive hands.

After this the art dealer and I shopped for clothes for Scrabble and then went for supper. I had a dash too much red wine and then made my way home pleasantly sozzled and tired from a busy day.

I just checked my work email, I've got two emails waiting for me from women I met at Erotica. It's nice to be pursued, even if it is totally the wrong time for anything like that.

The Ice Queen and a communication break down.

I was at Erotica and I got a text message from The Ice Queen. Regular readers will know the Ice Queen is one of my best friends, we get on extremely well but it's just a friend thing. So the following message seemed a bit strange.

'I woke up so hot and wet, I need something between my legs'

Blimes, I thought. She must have texted it to the wrong number, so I let her know

'I think you sent this to the wrong number'

To which was replied

'Yes, I'm so hot and I had a really nice dream with you, I'm at home, alone'

This has to be the wrong number, I thought. so I replied with

'This is Louche you know'

She replied with

'Doesn't Louche fuck? Come on, don't be gay with me, I just want a funny time, I feel dirty today'

Blimes I thought again, and after a quick call to a mutual friend I texted back with

'Ice Queen, I love you to bits but I don't want to mess up our brilliant friendship'

And I was sent back

'I knew, u r gay. I don't know why I had to ask for that little favour, fuck you fucking gay.'

It was all a bit much really, this with all the whole Erotica experience and having hardly any sleep - had been a bit of a naughty boy and stayed up rather late drinking with girls. I was horrified that I had lost a really good friend.

Then I got a call from the Ice Queen from her land line, my first question was 'Having you been taking drugs?' She was shocked and asked what was I going on about. It turns out her phone had been stolen last night, some random person was sending me text messages for a laugh.

The world is a weird place some times.

Erotica and the looks of love.

I worked at Erotica this weekend, it was as horrible as ever. If you've never been to Erotica I would actually recommend it. For a couple of hours it can be strangely good fun to stroll around looking at the unusual items for sale and the strange people who go there.

People really dress up for Erotica, or perhaps the other way. If you ever wanted to see the nipples of a 50 year old woman, or a man with a pot-belly in a thong this is the place to go. While I like that there are couples who are clearly still ticking each others boxes you also see things you really rather wouldn't.

It's just all so sleazy, wanton I can deal with but nasty leering men are another thing. And after days and days of it, pretending to like people is rather challenging.

Any way there were some amusing moments. I ended up having supper with a woman who is currently having an affair with one of the chaps from Inxs, she was letting everyone listen to the filthy phone messages he had been leaving her.

Then a swinging couple showed me the three expressions you need to swing. Apparently swinging at events is all about eye contact. And there are three different looks
1) GO AWAY.
If you can imagine the look you give someone after making a really sarky comment or a bit of a put down you are about right.
2) WATCH, BUT DON'T TOUCH
This one you make eye contact and smile while looking away, sort of like being coy and flirty I suppose.
3) COME AND JOIN IN THE FUN.
This one is brazen, you make eye contact, look them up and down especially focusing on the crotch area and then look them straight in the eye nodding slightly.

Well now you know.

Grr! Girls

Well sadly I couldn't get a ticket to see Amy - I ended up chatting directly with her management but I had left it too late. It's probably for the best, I read the interview she did with our music editor and she doesn't come across well, yet again. I think if we ever meet my lovely day dreams would be over.

I found out today that A has a boyfriend, and it is a bit serious. He is called Colin. I know I shouldn't care but being bested by a man called Colin smarts, it really does.

Work is being trying at the moment, I'm working with A (who is not my favourite person at the moment as I'm sure you can imagine - I completely understand why people warn you about work flings.) and the Aussie chap who is a rampant egotist and all round nasty piece of work.

In short, I just don't like going in anymore and I can't see the situation changing for a while. This means I have to concentrate on my writing more which is hard because it's Erotica this week so I have no free time. My agent liked what I sent over but wants me to boil down the concept of what I want to say more, this is going to take proper quality time.

Of course I think this is annoying me more than it should because my father contacted me again, he has secondary cancer in the liver which gives him a life expectancy only slightly better than cut flowers.

What-a-fucking-week.

Amy, Amy, Amy

Hello, my names Louche and I fancy Amy Winehouse. I've been told I shouldn't but there is something strangely alluring about her.

I brought her first album because I fancied her and it turned out to be jolly good. Someone I know well knows her, and yet she refuses to introduce me. Which while being probably for the best is rather annoying.

Anyway, Amy has a gig tonight and I'm thinking about going. I've never seen her in the flesh but getting hold of tickets is proving tricky. I can't do the work blag as work have already interviewed her (with out me knowing, yes it is outrageous) so I'm not sure what I'm going to do.

I think I might make it a personal quest to go, other things in my life have flared up again so I could do with a distraction. It's Amy or a bottle of gin and I think Amy might give me less of a hangover.

A quick one

Lots going on, here are the key facts.

The Ice Queen when for drinks with the object of her love, the one man on the planet who she can't wrap around her finger, they snogged he confessed his love. And then the next day acted if nothing happened.

Men can be so disappointing sometimes, although this man is such a berk it's hard to imagine him doing the right thing.

I said goodbye to my old assistant, who is going back to America to live with a man. It was so very sad to see her go, but also lovely to spend time with her, however brief and remember the fun we used to have. She is so very outrageous and I shall miss her more than I let on.

I've got an agent now, so that is good. I'm going down to Devon this weekend to do some more work on the book. I've got to hammer out a two page summary of what it is all about. This is all jolly exciting but also rather stressful. My evenings are about working now, not lounging about eating grapes.

Oh and I've finally caught that blasted cold that has been shooting around, this is what happens if you link to strange girls on the internet.

Three days

Friday:
Extremely hungover all day - did very little due to the bad state of face, the morning was okay but the afternoon went on forever.

After that I went to a party - the launch for a sex toy. This involved going to a club in Victoria and drinking lots of very sickly cocktails. Why do all launches have horrible cocktails these days? Even our second birthday had some deeply suspect drinks.

This party also doubled as a goodbye to a lovely girl I work with, so that was sad. She hadn't been with us awfully long but she had made an impact. Due to my extreme tiredness I just couldn't get into 'the zone' so at about 11 I skipped off to get the tube home.

Saturday:
Lots of sleeping mostly. Then I went to meet an old flame, or at least a girl who was almost an old flame a couple of times. It was supposed to be a supper party (which I normally loath as they are full of smug couples talking about kitchens and pensions) but it ended up just being drinks in a bar and then more drinks in a gay club in Soho. I danced for a while but the not quite an old flame was acting a bit strange so at 2am so I decided to call it a night.

I suppose I should expect some slightly unusual behavour from her, we have almost had something a few times and then it has drifted away. Which makes me think that we will probably never have anything.

Sunday:
Woke up early, and did lots of writing. I've been mostly writing about my experiences of dating the porn star and trying to make them as humourous as possible. I nailed it to the point that I was laughing out loud at some of the stuff I had written. Fueled by this I cycled to get some bits and bobs so I could do some cooking from Nigella's book. The rest of the day was spent relaxing, a bit more writing and cooking interesting dishes.

The two potato bake with halloumi cheese was especially good, god bless Nigella. Why can't I meet a nice girls like Nigella?

Closure.

What a day. A and I went to a work thing in Kent. This involved a fairly long train journey, she fell asleep I did some work on my computer. The work thing was very dull but it was one of those occasions where you have to go and at the very end there were some interesting bits, mostly we passed the time doing drawings on the complimentary note pads.

After that we got the train back, she fell asleep on my shoulder, I did some more work. We went up to West Hampstead so I could drop my laptop home (I didn’t really want to be dragging it around with me at the party later) while I was wombling home she was sent to the shops on West End Lane to have a look at what they could offer.

I dropped off my computer, and various goodies from the trip and then marched out again. We met in the restaurant had spotted when I first moved to the area as one she would like, and took a lovely table by the window so we could see the people of Hampstead going by.

It was a very pleasant meal, she chose a good white which complimented the mushrooms well and we talked about relationships and things. She has been seeing a few different people since we stopped, I’ve been mostly turning down girls because they aren’t as much fun. Then we agreed that the Sunday when she came over and I cooked her artichokes was a most perfect day.

She had spotted a dress in the shops that she loved and it was in the sale so that was mentioned a few times, with a plan to walk past the shop on the way to the party. So after the meal, and probably a bottle too many of the wine we strolled down to the tube towards the party.

The shop was still open so she danced in and tried on the dress, it was stunning, and like the style of dress I had remarked earlier that she should get. So she got it and we ran on to the tube. When we arrived at the party (fashionably late of course) it hadn’t opened so we went to a nearby bar and had a drink to kill time. This descended in a shot drinking session where I discovered that silver Aftershock is very nasty, but the black stuff is okay. We were considerably drunk by this point and there was some kissing on the cheeks going on – A on mine, it was a bit over the top involving tongues I didn’t really know what to make of it.

We went to the party, it was in a huge house just off Regent’s Park that had been cleared out and sort of turned into a venue. The place was rammed with men and we managed to shoulder our way to the bar to get some booze. Stopping for a dance and I said hello to a few people I knew.

There was a small amount of dancing, a bit of drinking and then A decided she needed to go so I walked her to the tube. On the way we got into a discussion that got rather heated about things. I had the view that what we had for a while was brilliant and I thought it was silly to give up on it. Her view was well hard to understand. She is still beating herself up over the old chap and things.

It was at that moment when I finally got what my female friends had been warning me about, A is always going to be trouble. She is always going to be high maintenance and flighty and she has some real issues she needs to deal with.

I’m just tired of it all now, I’m not going to hang around on the off chance she finally does sort herself out.

Think of it as a new start, or at least closure.

The meaning of roses.

This week's flowers are roses. They are very lovely orange ones, with slightly darker edges as if they have been lightly played over with a blow-torch. They are jolly thirsty plants, I've never encountered flowers with such an desire for water - of course I could just have a leak in my vase. I'm trying to become better with flowers, cut ones are okay because you get to throw them away after a week so it's not that hard to keep them alive.

I've been looking up what different flowers mean, sadly hardly anyone speaks flower these days. Orange roses mean facination, and the plethora of leaves surrounding them signify hope which seems a bit apt as I have supper with A on Thursday. Part of me is thinking that I need a dramatic ending for the book I am working on which is why I'm doing it, and the other part is laughing at that lie. If you can't fool yourself who can you fool eh?

In other news I'm meeting a potential agent tomorrow so I need to think jolly carefully about what I'm going to wear, it needs to be foppish of course but also suitable for work. Velvet seems logical but which items?

Sad face.

I realised something today, I've known it for a while but today was the point at which it seemed real.

Someone I really like is leaving the country, this is a someone who has been an amazing friend and confidant through so many misadventures with women. She has listened through the whole cycle of 'I've met this girl', through 'She is lovely I want to see her all the time' to 'She is dead to my eyes, lets never speak of her again' and has just been there for me.

It's because of her straight talking no-nonsense that I finally got off my arse and went and saw a therapist about my father related issues. She is the one that made me go for it when I was thinking about doing a book. She has been my moral compas on many issues, even if it has been 'find out what she thinks and do the opposite'

I don't even mind if she calls me a hippy.

And now she is going away, and I'm going to be sad. I'm going to wear black and everything.

Dogging

Today I went to the Heath with a friend and her lovely puppy, Scrabble. He is adorable and had an amazing effect on the people we met, it was amazing who came up to us to talk to him. I'm allowed to borrow Scrabble at weekends, so I think I may take him for a walk next weekend just too meet girls.

Look at his little face, Awwwwwwwwwww.

Vampires

I went to the Vampire party, it was brilliant. Girls in lingerie, dressing up and vast amounts of booze always are good. And, when you bump into the Ice Queen when you didn't think she was going you know the evening is on to a winner. It was lovely to see her again but that isn't the only interesting event of the evening.

Oh no.

The new sales chap snogged someone he really shouldn't have - a friend of mine and I know her boyfriend very well. Should I tell him?. Also the old sales chap (the prat) was getting very close with A's sister (who has a thing for Aussie guys who treat girls like rubbish so she was bound to like him) and I know the sales-prat's girlfriend. Should I tell her?

Also The Ice Queen and A had a bit of a chat (they always got on famously) and A said something to the Ice Queen which knocked my socks off - it was something along the lines of she regrets what happened and something else that neither the Ice Queen or I can remember exactly but it was very important because it caused me to say to a rather drunk A.

'Just so you know, I haven't given up on you and I'

So it must have been something, and I think A must have wanted me to know it as she is aware that the Ice Queen is one of my closet friends and is bound to report such things to me.

I'm not sure if I do want to get back with her, A, as the Ice Queen says she will always been troublesome. It's just her nature and since I stopped worrying about A my luck has been amazing. No-one wants to date a jinx. But on the otherside, I have more fun with her than anyone else, I've been on a few dates since and the girls just haven't been anywhere near as fun.

Mostly I just wish I could remember what I was told, oh drink is a dangerous thing.

I also handed over the Frock Coat I promised the Ice Queen for providing insider tips on the seduction of A. While it may not have ended quite as I would have hoped it seemed like the right time to hand it over.

Lunching

Well I had lunch with the ex, who also happens to be an ex porn star. She has drifted and out of my life a couple of times. While she is a nice girl, if some what troubled (all porn stars are troubled) she is very flakey so she was a nightmare to arrange dates with. I remember her onces saying she thought she had ME, but it was really just that she was stoned the entire time.

We had food, she brought her lovely little dog along (a Tibetan Spaniel called Tibs) who spent the whole of lunch charming the pub. He is a lovely. Anyway, we chatted and it was a bit strange, last night while in a state of some intoxication we kissed. It was foolish but it happened and afterwards I suggested lunch.

I don't think I really do want to get back together with her, even though she looked fabulous today. I think friends is a better place to be, there is just too much history there.

The plot thickens

Well, I'm just about to go for a late lunch with an ex. This is something I didn't expect, I can vaguely remember a drunken plan being made but these things rarely come true.

I found out last night that she thought I was younger than I was and that was one of the reasons things got broken up.

Yes, I really do have the worst taste in women.

Birthdays.

Here are two quotes from the evening which I feel should give you an idea of how suitably debauched it was.

'I'm a simple girl I just want someone to bite my nipples and give me anal'

and

'Some girls have innies, some have outies, mine flaps in the wind when I'm aroused'

I've got two lunch dates lined up and I saw an old friend who I haven't seen for years. It was a really good birthday.

I'm going to cradle my head in my arms for a bit now.

26

Well I'm 26 now, here are my observations so far - being 26 makes you thirsty and it is quite dark.

The last year has been tumultuous, and it a few places tumescent but mostly it has been troubling. It was on this day last year that my estranged father contacted me to say he had terminal cancer, I've had to move out of the flat I love and find somewhere else and there have been a couple off affairs and a near-death experience. So it was a bit of a year.

I do have some great new trousers, and I've just opened a present from my little brother with a fantastic shirt in it.

More reports will follow.

72 hours later.

I'm in the middle of a 72 detox, no coffee, no booze and no chocolate. I needed a detox, after what has been a very boozey few weeks.

I had to apply such a strong measure because I've got my birthday weekend coming up which is bracketed by a range of 'working lunches'. The sort of working lunches where you are taken by a girl I fancy to somewhere for cocktails.

This is good because I rather dropped off the social scene for a while and now I'm starting to get back into it. I wonder who I will meet next...

Memories and too much wine

Yesterday I visited my old flat, I had to go there as a favour to a friend and sort out some computer things. It was nice returning there and as I walked through the streets I remembered all sorts of adventures with girls. The strange bar I ended up in with A, the pub I first met C in, where I used to meet G from the bus. The bench on which I shared my first kiss with B.

Yes, I've been out with quite a few letters of the alphabet, the filthy minxes.

After sorting out the computer thing which took hardly any time at all (the most complicated part was moving a huge painting to get at the phone socket) we went out for food and got very drunk.

So I did no writing last night, no writing this morning and I'm typing this with one finger, slowly, so it's not too nosy.

Lots of typing.

I've been working all weekend, okay so I've been mostly cleaning and cooking but I've managed to complete the first chapter and get a pretty solid outline of the rest of the book.

Sadly I haven't solved any crimes while writing so I feel in some ways I've failed.

Of course, writing a true account of my misadventures with women does pose an interesting problem. What happens if the women mentioned read it?

I should probably start planning some sort of long holiday somewhere far away, in a country where knives are banned.

What writing is about.

I've started working on the book now, and in the long traditions of all writers this means doing lots of cleaning while you 'think about your work'. I've just completely re-arranged my room, cleaned the kitchen and I'm just about to start on the bathroom.

I bet Shakespeare was exactly the same, he would go off and get some eggs and then clean the privy while frowning over Romeo and Julette.

There was a book launch party last night. I like book launches because you get an interesting mix of people there, and there is free booze. Free booze is brilliant. There is something very special about someone else paying for you to get drunk, every glass of wine tastes that little bit better.

It was also my first night out with the new head sales chap, it went very well and I have the phone number of a girl I have to call on Sunday. She is Italian and does something I don't really understand.

There really is nothing like the party circuit to cheer you up, everyone is so friendly and it is marvellous for meeting people. Night clubs just aren't anywhere as near as joval, although they might be if there was free booze and goodie bags. I'm going to try and go to more book launches, you know in the name of research.

Not a bad night at all. Right now I simply must do some proper writing. I'll just give the taps and sink a once over first.

Slighty rude post

Here is some dialogue I just remembered from the party. This was with a scary woman who I had only just met a couple of minutes earlier.

Her - Oh are you a bit tired would you like something to wake you up?
*she rubs her nose and winks*
Me - Oh no, I'm fine thank you.
Her - Have you ever had sex in a night club?
Me - not that I remember, but who knows with magic of booze?
Her - You know what I love?
Me - No?
Her - Snorting coke off a fat cock, do you have a fat cock? Can I snort coke off your cock?
Me - Oh, erm I say, erm.
*Exit stage left, briskly*

Right

Sorry for disappearing for a few days, the party was that debauched that it took a while to get over it. While in a drunken haze something nearly happened with A, which caused someone at work to get very suspicious and it's been damage control since then.

In other news it appears a book deal is going to happen, it's early stages yet but the publisher liked the concept and my style of writing. I've got to put some sample chapters together this weekend.

It's going to be a version of this very blog, but you know a bit better and on paper. I'm so excited I can't sleep (hence the 4am post).

Everyone at work is delighted and is going to do everything they can to help, it's all just brilliant.

Oh dear

I did something I really shouldn't have last night, in the grand scheme of things it wasn't terrible but I really shouldn't have.

Booze, a new suit and being caught up in the moment count for something but still...

A suit, of destiny

My luck has been good recently, especially considering the nearly falling off a mountain thing (yes I'm going on about that again). After discussing it with a friend we came up with an explanation.

The Quantum Leap Theory.

At some point Dr Sam Beckett took control of H and thus saved us from falling off the cliff before jumping on again, hoping the next jump is the one home.

Someone in the car has something important they have to do, something important for the planet.

Anyway, back to good luck, this book thing coming from no-where and various other things have got me convinced that my luck is back, big time.

Today I had to go clothes shopping for a party on Tuesday. It's the second birthday party of our company and it is going to be a bit of a bash with a mix of slebs and press, so I wanted to look good. I had some fall back clothes but I really wanted something new, something smart yet louche. So I stomped off to Kensington to do some lunch time shopping. I went to all my usual haunts, and every single one had a disappointingly informal autumn collection. Admittedly some of the colours were rather pleasant in a low-key sort of way but nothing a foppish chap could wear to a party.

After about 40 shops and walking back to the office in a rather low mood I decided to try one more shop. I walked downstairs to the suit section and found the suit of my dreams.

Ever since I read the Great Gatsby I've dreamed of a lilac suit and now I own one. It was even in the sale so instead of paying the best part of £600 for it, I got it for almost nothing.

I've been grinning ever since I got the suit, I only hope there is some one suitable at the party to impress with my sartorial style.

Flash Monkey

Last night I reviewed the Flash Monkey Cabaret, and it was splendid. No not splendid, splendid doesn't cover how great it was, let me explain.

My favourite parts of London are the little secret places that you don't normally see. The parties that happen behind closed doors, strange little bars off side streets, members only clubs with completely plain doors so passers by have no idea of the delights that await within.

Last night was a perfect example of that. For a night Café de Paris had been taken over by a louche selection of cabaret acts and unsavoury looking characters. The show was opened by a very well performed feather dance and things spiraled away from there. None of the acts were ever on the stage for two long so you found yourself constantly shocked and amazed by what came on next. One chap in drag did something with an ironing board dressed as a cow that is very hard to explain, or at least to make it sound good so I won't.

I saw a lady LAY AN EGG on stage while dancing. AN EGG I say! I think you can imagine where she stored it, it must be a very convenient way of getting your lunch into work, although I'm not sure where she would put the condiments.

Also I chatted up a lovely lady. I think perhaps chatted up doesn't give her enough credit. After flashing her a smile she sent her friend away and came and stood next to me, on her own. So the signal to talk to her was pretty strong.

She was very entertaining, a native Londoner with a passion for exciting parties. After a brief chat we found out we had been to some of the same bashes (she had even seen me there, but I was disguised at the time). We spent most of the evening talking about nonsense and things but sadly at the end she was whisked away by the P.R. who happened to be her ex.

She has the means to contact me as she knows where I work, but sadly I don't have her number. Either way I will see her at a party at the end of the month.

What a brilliant night.

AN EGG!

A muffin, the rain and books.

I went for a coffee with the work-mate who is having an affair today, it was a bit strange. I think the coffee shop I picked as a little far away so we had to make an awful lot of polite conversation while walking before we could get to the meat of the matter, as it were.

Her hands were shaking as she finally spilled. Her boyfriend and her have been together for about 10 years, and this 'thing' has been going on for about a year, as far as she is concerned it is nothing serious, and she says it makes her feel a bit sparkly when she is feeling glum. Yet again the world isn't black and white, it's shades of gray. Also, I'm hardly in a position to lecture about work affairs.

As we left the coffee shop I had to get some extra things to take my spend up to the minimum of £10 so I waltzed out with a couple of very nice looking muffins. A asked what was in the muffin bag, and I said it was a treat for good girls. I felt a bit guilty for instigating a low-key flirt with her but then I just don't worry about stuff like that anymore that is the nice thing about nearly falling off a mountain.

If you have a near death experience you get to start again, that is in the rules. So I can do things like this occasionally, if I please. Anyway, I left work early as I had to go and see the therapist and got completely and utterly soaked in the rain. It was great, just like something out of a film and the fact I was listening to the soundtrack to Amelie definitely added to experience.

I felt like this was the start of a new beginning for me, everything when so bad for me almost exactly a year ago so there is asymmetryy to it being sorted out now. I saw the therapist briefly, I got sent away early for being fixed. All the malarkey with my dad and other things is sorted out now, so that is nice.

Oh and I've got a meeting next week with a commissioning editor to talk about book ideas, so yeah not a bad start to things.

The Party Season.

Sorry if it has been a while since my last update. Since my return I've been all over the place. The party season has started up again and I have eased myself back into it almost as if I had never left. I do like the party season, there is something so right about living off a diet of cocktails and finger-food for a month or so.

This week has included a couple of art shows, an opening night of a food place in South Kensington and a very pleasant drinking session to say good bye to a work friend, or to be more accurate a friend.

As with all these things everyone drank far too much and then said heartfelt and boozy things to each other. It was deeply moving, but sadly the person who is leaving got so drunk she doesn't remember any of the special moments.

I popped out of the party for five minutes to get something from the office and when I tried the door it wouldn't open, now I'm not terribly good with keys at the best of times but the door was definitely stuck. So I pushed it hard and it opened, with a work mate sprawled on the floor behind it. And behind her, an 'unknown male' scamped off to hide in the loos.

I caught a co-worker having an affair (it was definitely not her boyfriend, he is much shorter), and it was almost the last co-worker I would suspect of having anything like that. We are going to have a coffee to talk about it. Not that I'm going to say much but I feel coffee is definitely the order of the day, with some sort of stilled Merchant Ivory style conversation.

After that I returned to the party, had more sad conversations with the leaving person before stumbling home in quite a state, the rest of the weekend was spent relaxing and catching up on sleep. I had forgotten that the party season means your weekends are spent in a torpor as you ready yourself for the next round of mid-week parties.

My holiday.

Okay, I’ve had a restorative drink now and collected my thoughts. This is what happened.

Thursday
Drove to Kent in 'pirate car'. English people ignored the car's strange appearance, if anything looking in the other way. As we were about to board the train with the car we met a couple of other crappy cars, one of them started doing doughnuts while showing off what their £75 ride could do. The police with big guns turned up and were a bit angry with us (the car reported to be messing around was a Volvo too) but we were polite and explained it was for charity so they let us go, because we were 'clearly good people'. Sadly they wouldn’t pose for a photo with us for security reasons.

Arrived in France, go to car park full of strange cars and vans, drank litres of beer and talked crap with random people thinking things are a bit strange. We didn’t really know what to make of it all but it was jolly friendly, when bar closed we went back to hotel to drink more with team of Scots. Scots get very drunk and end up SHITTING on team-mates car, Yes SHITTING.

Friday
Met in car park with 45 other cars lots of admiring crappy paint jobs etc. Got supplies and the rally began. The start was like Wacky racers with people driving all over the place. Oh and we got given little hand held radios so we could talk to each other (if we were within 3 miles). At first we went on back roads through tiny little villages in France until we realised it took forever, so we went on the toll roads, managing to hit 103 miles an hour at one point.

Enter Switzerland under cover of darkness, slight trouble at border as the toy telescope spooked the guards. They were very friendly and soon waved us on into Basel which is a horrible town, especially in darkness.

We checked into the hotel (very nice 4 star place with awfully powerful showers) and started drinking, lots. One of the Chaps in mini was told to move car or it will be towed, so he gets in car and is instantly done for drink driving. More drinking. Crap food (chicken and beef with tinned fruit served with rice) and then to bed for sleep.

Saturday
Wake up on set of Sound of Music, so zoomed up and down mountain passes admiring amazing scenery. Stop for coffee and meet convoy mates, make a couple of new good friends. Cars start to drop out at this point, one of them ‘glazed’ their breaks due to them getting far, far too hot. Stonked along passes in the afternoon (top driving fun, nothing like a sheer drop on one side to focus the mind). H takes over as we are about to go on the Infamous Stelvio pass. Decide to time section for extra fun.

The timed section starts at 6.02, breaks fail at 6.02 and 30 seconds, H stops us from going off cliff (picking up cow on the way) by ramming car into verge, car goes on two wheels for a bit. Team mate J goes into shock. Brakes gone, everyone a bit shook up, but then we realise that if the brakes had gone on any other corner in the day we would be dead.

We spent 30 minutes trying to fix them (the fluid had boiled off due to the hard day). Sadly we couldn’t fix it and H's RAC cover doesn't work because we aren't returning in car too.

Some other rally people in a Merc offer to be our 'emergency break'. So we decide to tackle pass using engine to break only, it gets dark and fog descends. 2 hours of PURE TERROR as we go down pass. I can't stress enough how close we were to dying, for about an hour. I found this section the most trying as surving was out of my hands (H was driving) and about an hour of constantly being on the edge of death does start to get to a chap.

48 hairpin turns later the pass is thankfully over so we go to Aprica have pint and be happy not dead. Pints taste amazing, everything tastes amazing. Then Drink even more beer, crash out in apartment thingy.

Sunday
Wake up, still not dead (V. good start). Waking up and not being dead, even if you have a ringing hangover is a good thing. Feeling renewed with life and very good coffee we bleed the brakes and then top them up.

After everyone is ready we set off to Southern Italy stopping at Verona to visit one team member’s family (And get Italian hospitality at it’s best) and then at the Ferrari factory to gawp at very expensive cars on a track day.

Manage 105mph with ‘troubled brakes’

Arrive in small town in Italy where EVERY woman is beautiful, drool. Drink, eat and smash up our car a little bit for fun, the car managed to break a plank. Still not dead.

Monday
Final section, racing around country lanes in SUPER RAIN road becomes river, so end up doing rally style driving on country roads (3 hours of pure pleasure) a car following us offers me a place on their rally team after seeing me in action. More driving and fun. Super rain turns whole of Italy into sea.Arrive have hotel malarkey (Three rooms later we have somewhere to sleep) and then go to prize giving, drink eat and I go paddling in med. Only a month ago I had been paddling in the med and having a rather less pleasant time, it’s amazing how much things can change in a month.

As the car has finished we thrash it around wasteland near beach and do everything you are never allowed to do with cars which was lots of fun, I managed to make fire come out of the exhaust, and yet the car still ran. H ended up beaching car on the top of a dune. More booze and food. Still not dead.

TuesdayWake up, unable to sell car to locals because of it being on the top of a dune and stuck, eat and then go to Naples to shop before going to airport, sadly traffic is so bad have to go straight to airport and end up delaying flight (get in). Still not dead.

Conclusion
The rally is amazing, for 5 days we were part of something really special, everyone was so accepting and they really cared if you made it. I made some friends on that night that I’ll keep for quite some time.

It was more than that, the cars were terrible, which was sort of the point. Because they were only £100 people weren’t sniping at each other over the cars, but they still had pride. I think we could all draw a lesson from the love these machines caused and yet gay abandon that the people showed while enjoying them.

Or put another way; enjoy what you have because it’s brilliant.

(I had more photos but blogger is being naughty so I'll try and upload them later)

I'm back.

That holiday was life changing. We nearly died (brakes failing on the alps). Having a proper near death experience, twice has changed my outlook on most things. Oh and I've fallen in love with Italy I may move there.

I'll do a full report once I've caught my breath a bit.

Sorting things out

I still haven't packed, which is almost traditional now. We don't set off till this afternoon so I have loads of time to pick socks and decide how to look dashing and yet English on the streets of France, Italy and Switzerland.

I have to go into work again anyway, to pick up my bank cards. Banks can be awful sometimes and my one has been so bad. It's taken 11 phone calls and 3 weeks to get something delivered that should have been replaced instantly so that I didn't have to do a moment without my card. Anyway, it should be sorted out now.

In other sorted out news, I'm giving A the broach I got a million years ago for her. With no strings attached. I just want to get rid off it so I'm handing it over. She asked me yesterday if I was still angry with her, because I don't give her as much attention these days. I said no; I'm not, it's water under the bridge now.

She said she wanted things to return how they were before. I didn't have the heart to explain they aren't going to ever be exactly the way they were before, that wasn't just mates. That was something else, something that is not coming back any time soon.

Anyway, I'm off to travel across Europe so hopefully things will sort themselves out when they return. Hopefully I'll meet some exciting Italian on my travels and have a thrilling affair, some of my work-mates think it will be a man for some reason.

Well it's not, it's going to be a lady. Considering the Interwebs managed to get me a raise, next I'd like it to make an interesting new woman appear into my life please.

Meet the car.

We did some customisation last night. It's nearly ready for the trip now. I just can't wait.

It was my suggestion to give it the 'evil eye' lights, I think they set the tone nicely. It's a surprisingly good car for £100, especially now it has been customised.

Lazy Sundays

I've been having a very relaxed weekend, Saturday was absorbed by a series of naps, I think I must have gone to sleep somewhere in the flat a dozen times, and I still really don't feel together. Exciting weeks are all well and good but they do take it out of a chap.

Today is going to also be lazy, I'm going to do some baking later, and make some bread but that is about it. Oh and some washing, I have to pack for the trip across Europe.

I would go for a walk on the Heath but I just don't fancy it alone today. I love my lazy Sundays, waking up fairly early to shuffle down to the shops to get good coffee and a copy of the papers. Then chasing sunbeams across the room while reading the latest on shoes and trips to far off places.

Afternoons spent walking around galleries enjoying the art and trying to spot the first dates. The delightful pace of life. So that you never rush to the shops for ingredients before it's too late, instead you take a lovely walk to pick up some artichokes or the almonds you need for the cake.

I like Sundays, I especially like Sundays with girls.

I remember the time we blew a whole afternoon drinking frozen margaretas out of jam-jars in a garden while talking about the Great Gatsby, or when we went shopping for the perfect silver shoes around Regents Street ending up in Claridges for cocktails. Or the Sunday when you came over with a sparkle in your eyes and we ate artichokes and then I showed you how much I had learnt about massage since we last met.

For all my moaning and complaining about woman-kind, I am hopelessly and utterly smitten. You might change shape every now and then, and look and act completely differently but I can still spot you. And even when something unpleasant happens and it all goes wrong. It's for a reason, if I look back on the less than pleasant moments I can see they all taught me something.

I'm not giving up on women just quite yet. I only need a few more goes to get it right, much like a good Windsor knot

Double rice.

The dinner party was very dull. On the plus side my cousins seemed almost normal but it wasn't really a 'fun' occasion as such. Still family commitments and all that, you have to be nice to Aunts it's a chap's duty.

The first thing my boss said to me this morning was 'I've given you a raise'. Hurrah! I would go and instantly buy something flashy but I have to actually wait till pay day for that so maybe as a treat I will allow myself a double helping of rice with my water tonight. Or perhaps one of my precious remaining potatoes.

He also mentioned the conditions for me to get another raise, so there is already another one on the cards.

Now, I mentioned money related things in my blog yesterday so perhaps if I write about things here they may come true? Sort of like a list to Father Christmas.

I just have to work out what I really want now, apart from more shirts and a new winter coat of course.

In which we talk of many things.

I realised something today, from the moment things were over with A she has started flirting outrageously with my direct boss. I thought this behavior was a bit weird considering she had previously had no interest in the chap (as pleasant as he is).

Of course the Ice Queen explained that it is one of the most ancient of tactics; first invented by the Aztecs - although recent finds suggest it might go back further.

A is trying to make me jealous, I did say when we had 'that rather heated chat' that I haven't tried to hit on her in weeks (true) and that it really wasn't on my mind (mostly true). This comment seems to have got to her more than I expected.

It's not really working on me; if anything it makes me think less of her.

In work related news I got the magazine today with my first piece in, it's a very silly one but it's mine none the less. Generally I've been getting an awful lot done recently, even though I am dog-tired due to lack of sleep. Last Friday one of the sales chaps said I should ask for more money, which I probably should but I like to feel I've earned it first.

My dad emailed me back, I might post it up here if people want to see what it says. I'm, content with his reply. It seems like a strange choice of adjective but it is the closest to how I feel about the whole thing. I'm not going to push reconciliation, I don't want to move too fast on that but at least I'm moving to sort things out at least.

I wonder what my big challenge will be today. Every night this week I've done something to 'move my life on'. Here is the list so far

Saturday - Go clubbing with strangers, take a chance again after the Ibiza debacle.
Sunday - Say yes to road trip with H.
Monday - Do some electronic related work for a friend, already is leading on to extra things.
Tuesday - Email Dad, call A and talk about the situation.
Wednesday - Go spider hunting with the intention of catching spider in hands. Sadly as I was unable to track down the monster arachnid I had to settle with working on the outline for my book.

Tonight I have a supper party hosted by an Aunt, from what I hear of the mix of people it doesn't sound like the best, but we shall see what adventure life has planned for me next...

I'm holding out for dinosaurs or a robot invasion.

Dead flowers

Today was strange, not nasty or weird just a bit strange.

I made a point of not being frosty or anything really, A made a point of letting me know she had been talking to people about my behaviour.

I got a lot of work done, which was good and I was really focused on it for probably the first time in months. Gosh I got a lot done; I may run out of things to do at this rate.

On return home I engaged in a jolly good spider hunt. My flatmate spotted a huge one last night and he has a proper problem with them. I can’t say I adore them either. So in the name of spider relocation we cleared the area where it was last seen.

We managed to make each other jump while trying to clear out around old bag which looked exactly like the sort of place a very vicious spider might lurk in before jumping on someone’s face and biting them to death. This was a false alarm and after much cleaning and moving we now have a very clean and orderly front room but no spider.

I also cleaned up the now very dead plant I brought when things with A started to get a bit heated. I read somewhere that if you can keep a plant alive for a year you should get a pet, and if you can keep that alive for a year you are ready for a proper relationship.

Evidently I’m not there yet, or at least I’ve given up on something that was not to be.

As a side note, I’ve nearly got these slightly mournful emails out of my system so the usual fun and frolics will follow soon.

Becoming more of a grown up.

Well things have ended in a way. After a really busy day at work I cycled home on my newly fixed bike and decided to set about the rest of my life (this week has been a week jolly well ‘doing it’) and sort it out. I emailed my father for the first time in four months and then proceed to call A, and finally tell her how unpleasant my time in Ibiza was because of the way she acted.

She got very defensive and angry, but I think I would in that situation. I made things rather worse than they were by not telling her sooner about how I felt about the holiday. She did admit the first night was a bit weird, and that she had been a poor hostess, and then told me off for my rather frosty behaviour since we have returned.

It wasn’t that pleasant but then things like this never are, and if you leave something for this long it just makes it worse. That is probably what I have learned from all of this. I made a point of ending on a high note, in that the reason I was doing this is I needed to clear the air because I do like her. And that I’m learning about how to do things like this because she inspires me to be a better person.

After careful consultation from the Ice Queen, who was very impressed by me making the call, let alone making sure I ended on a positive and didn’t get shouty.
She thinks this will be a changing point in it all, it could make it work it could be the final nail. I’m braced for the worst; I have been since the weekend when I had a long chat with the lesbians.

At least now I should be able to get a decent nights sleep, anyone for cocktails?

Out of the blue.

Serendipity is a marvellous thing.

I just got a call from H; he has been commissioned to do a project where he will drive a car costing no more than £100 to Naples completing various challenges on the way. The progress will be chronicled (in video and words) for the place he works for.

He just invited me to go along so I’m going to get a proper holiday, with a friend and I won’t have to pay for it, hurrah! I’m just required to be funny on camera and enter into the spirit of things; I can’t see a problem with that.

I’ve got about a week to get my extremely rusty French back up to speed and I should probably try and refresh my knowledge of mechanical maintenance. It’s been a while since I was up to my elbows in engine oil, possibly too long.

It should be a proper adventure, the likes of which I haven’t had for quite some time.

Spiffing.

'You've got a pretty mouth'

Well last night was not what I expected, but was all the more entertaining for it.

I strolled over to the bar, I do enjoy an evening walk in London. I think it's fun to imagine the stories of the people you go past, the two chaps with bags of shopping. The happy looking lady with a parcel. The old man wearing a tie and carrying flowers. I wonder what they were off to do.

London is so full of people it's often easy to stop thinking of them as actual personalities and just as things that occasionally get in the way on the tube.

The bar was busy and Mac was in very good if rather drunk form. He has recently married a lovely girl and he was marking the occasion of his birthday and a massive promotion at work, it's nice to hear of friends doing well. Present at the party was the usual mix of slightly smug London couples plus a few floating 'others'.

One of them was a member of a fairly well known band, who took rather a liking to me. With in about 5 minutes she was offering to come back to my flat to demonstrate her technique. Clearly I had been wearing the right scent in some ways.

After a while she got extremely drunk and took to lolling in a chair next to me kept saying I had a 'pretty mouth'. It's a new compliment to me, anyway I declined her offer, politely of course and she was escorted home by a friend as she really wasn't in any sort of state to be traveling alone.

I got chatting to one of Mac's old friends who I had met briefly at a party before but never really talked to. She was talking about her girlfriend who she has been seeing for year now, and then we talked about the situation with A.

I spoke of it in very much the past-tense saying it was something I wished could have been more but sadly it's over. I big step I think you will admit. Then S (as we shall call her now) started teaching me sign language, her partner is deaf and so she been learning it that way.

I had a marvelous time learning how to sign. I could now, should the need arise chat up a girl in very shoddy sign language, and even better I learned a lot of very rude signs perfect for saying offensive things about people in meetings.

Armed with this new knowledge I went with S clubbing to meet up with her girlfriend and her girlfriend's friends - who were an amazing collection of people. Her brother was a tall cross dressing chap who was prettier than most women I know, called Hamish. They were all extremely nice and had a really impish sense of humour. As they were deaf and it was fascinating watching them talk being able to pick up snippets about what they were saying.

The club was right in the centre of the West end, exactly the sort of place I never go to but it was a hoot with this crowd of very naughty people signing in the joyful knowledge that the people they were signing about had absolutely no idea what they were saying. Oh and the fact we had free booze all evening helped.

At about 3 I was a broken man and made my excuses and left, while I may not have ended up going home with a new special friend (which I'm not entirely sure I wanted really) I do have an excellent new chum in S and I can communicate in a new language.

Not bad for a Saturday night, really. Next weekned I'm going to try and meet the woman of my dreams and learn Dutch.

Scent

I've got a party to go to tonight, a good friend who was at one point the only person in London I knew is having a birthday. I have insisted on being sat next to at least one available woman at supper, it's time to see if I can still talk to strange women. I do hope the skill hasn't atrophed over the last six months.

Tonight my style is going to be a dark blue with lashing of velvet, and I'm not going to shave and thus affect an air of louche danger, I just have to choose my scent for the evening.

Now, what should a very sexy, yet tortured artisté smell like? Probably something with a lot of musk.

I always find it difficult situations like this, one simply has to ask oneself 'What would the Hoff do?'

Wigs

I was going to talk about girl things that have been happening in the last few days, they are complicated and possibly worthy of mention but Barry Lindon is on the telly so I think we should all take a moment and think about how lovely wigs can be.

*pause for reflection*

I do wonder why chaps who do wear wigs never go for a lovely white one perhaps set off with a black bow. If you are going to wear a toupé, wear one with pride I say.

I am so unbelievely hungover today, it feels like my face is about to fall off. If it does I think I will get one of those masks like the Phantom of the Opera and go and move into a theatre. Although not right a way, I just want to have a little nap first and take some more pain killers.

The evening

It was not quite how I expected it to go, the chain on my bike shattered again, only 50 meters away from where it broke before, it makes me so very sad when my bike breaks. So I had to walk my bike back to the office and then get the tube home. I'm going to see if I can borrow my flatmate's bike for the rest of the week till I get things sorted out. I can't do without cycling into work.

But anyway, back to the matters relating to girls. A cooked for me, a very pleasant meal of mushroom and cheese. It wasn't exactly what she intended to cook but I rather enjoy the off the cuff recipes. We drank wine (an excellent white I had chosen earlier in the day that complimented the mushrooms perfectly) and danced in my front room to jazz.

It was lovely, we danced and talked and then when she did the final preparations on the meal we talked honestly. Honestly about what happened and where it went weird. She said that she was at fault for it going strange because she realised it was either going to head somewhere serious or it had to stop.

It was nice to hear her talk about it the whole affair in such frank, positive terms. It's rare for me, as in unknown, to talk about relationships and feelings in total honesty. So even if it goes wrong I shall walk away with that as a new found skill.

I said that what we had for a while was brilliant, so utterly perfect that I struggled to imagine another girl topping it. She called me amazing and we talked some more about the wonderful adventures we had together. It was good to hear her say it was great too. I left it saying it was a shame to waste something that special, something that felt, that right. And hinted, with out saying directly, that friendship wouldn't really work for me.

I don't mean that in a bad way, just that I would need some time apart to get some distance before we could at least pretend to be friends - which would be hard considering we work together. A chap needs to be able to catch his breath about it all before he goes wading back in.

After that we drank the rest of the wine and then danced in the street to some Nina Simone, it was the making of an anecdote.

Either way, I made my intentions clear, in a subtle way to not scare her off. I won't wait around forever, but if she is ready to take a chance and believe in something special then I am here, with my amusing adventures.

It was awfully good wine.

A choice.

A is coming around tonight to cook for me. She has been a bit fighty today, but I think either way we shall have a chat about things.

How will it go? Who knows eh? Having chats with people is always dangerous as you might not get the answer you wanted, but sometimes that is good too.

Reflections.

It was a weekend of reflection for me, I made sure I didn’t have anything arranged so I could catch up on some much needed sleep and sort out a few bits and bobs. I do enjoy a restful weekend but by Sunday I was feeling rather agitated, so I took myself out for a walk in Hampstead and did a bit of food shopping.

It was a brilliant sunny day with a warm, yet firm breeze. The wind was strong enough to curl the edges of a coat dramatically but not so much as to get in the way.

I walked and thought about things, I remembered how it all started with A, and how we had so many brilliant weekends together. How our first kiss was in my mother’s garden, while my little brother had run off to fill up the water pistol so we could continue to play blind-mans-buff-with-a-water-pistol. A was blindfolded and I stepped forward and kissed her. It was perfect.

When you look back it’s surprising how many first kisses were wrapped in booze, the comforting blanket of alcohol was there just in-case the advance was turned aside.

This was a proper first kiss, it was a lovely summers day where the air is warm and if I think back I can still smell the freshly mowed grass (I had spent two days before A’s arrival making the gardens look presentable) and feel the slight chill of my damp clothes from the water fight mixed in with the nerves of taking a chance.

It’s not often you get to start something like that.

The Trouser fight

After only three days of the frosty treatment I have been asked out several times by A - every night she has invited me out to something. She has noted my general disapproval of her several times now, perhaps the message is starting to get through?

Now A has offered to come around to mine and cook me a meal. If this had been before the Ibiza debacle I would have been delighted, now. Well it's just a means to an end.

I'm not allowed to let it happen, not until I've had some explanation for her behavior on holiday. That's the law set down by the girls. Thankfully my flatmate has already furnished me with an excuse, it's just a matter of timing.

In other news, I'm wearing my super rugged shooting shirt today, it is made out of a thick material, that gives the impression of being stronger than iron and is covered in pockets for storing gun related bits and bobs in. It's deeply manly and the ideal thing to wear on safari or around the office when you want to be aloof. It also goes very well with stubble, so it is perfect for a Friday.

Every day it gets a little bit easier to say no to you.

From this afternoon

Her - 'What are you doing tonight?'
Me - 'I'm not sure, my supper party was cancelled'
Her - 'Well I'm going out for some drinks with friends if you want to come along?'
Me - 'I've probaby got to work late, but thanks for the offer'
Her - 'Fine, avoid me then' (said in a jokey way)
Me - 'I was hoping you would get the hint' (half joking)

I'm getting good at this.

Pink Power

Today was my first test, A asked me back to hers for a meal and a drink, and at the critical moment I said no, in a polite way of course. I said

'I don't think I'll come over tonight. Don't think I'm trying to invite myself over to stay the night, I'm not, I've got to go to a party tomorrow and things but I just can't face the commute back afterwards'

See, very civil. And I managed to resist. This was caused by two things.

The absolute indignant rage of my female friends at the fact that I was going to go back to hers on her whim. It's hard for a chap to resist when lewd pleasures might be in the offering, but the incandescent rage of my female friends helped show me the right path.

Also I was wearing my excellent pink jockey shorts today, they are a soft pink and exactly match one of my best pink shirts. Exactly, not close, exactly match. As such it is rather easier to get away with wearing them as they are part of a co-ordinated whole. A rather risky dandy-ish look but very well thought out one.

The Girls loved them and asked me to take my trousers off so they could enjoy the whole look better (I resisted as the shorts are rather tight and work-mates shouldn't know that much about you) and the Boys respected the co-ordination of the shirt and the pants.

With pants like that, a chap can say what ever he likes.

Ladies are not soduku

Yesterday evening I went back to a very good friends house for supper, we made risotto together and talked about the situation with A and various other things. It was great to talk to someone face to face about it all and speak out loud about the things that had been troubling me. Then we talked about relationships and other absent fathers. Good female friends are such a treasure.

The up shot of this is I realised that I have been putting far too much energy in trying to solve the riddle of A, she isn't a soduku to be beaten. It sounds like a simple thing, but as I was cycling home I had a bit of an ephinany. I'm just not going to think about it anymore, or talk about it with friends. It's just not going to register. If something happens, it happens but they days of military style planning and a council of advisors are over.

And thus we can return to the important matters of style.

As the season gets a bit cooler it's time to think about jackets again. I have a lovely pinstripe number that I've had for a while now, it's a bit worn around the edges so it affects a slightly rumpled, roguish air while still being smart.

The cut of it is fabulous, it's subtlety broad across the back so it's incredibly masculine and thus entirely safe to wear with a soft pink shirt without even a hint of foppishness. Not that one should fear the fop, just that sometimes it's good to have a dash of testosterone-fueled pinstripe menace to your appearance to remind people that you are a chap after all and any moment you might steal the woman away before the next round of cocktails arrive.

It's also been across my back on the start of many exciting adventures, I think I had my first French Martini while I wore it. It also saw my introduction to the London supper circuit and has almost been on more first dates than I have.

Of course I could have been wearing it through-out the summer but I don't think I was ready for it, I am now.

Oh and the soundtrack to this post is 'You can't always get what you want' by the Rolling Stones.

A missed message, a new era.

A was confusing today. She asked me out for an evening drink next Tuesday (I agreed with out thinking) and also around to her house so she could cook me a meal (this I sort of blanked because I was on the phone at the time), yet again sending strangely mixed signals after the blanking at the weekend.

Well I've had enough, this fop is not for turning. I may go for drinks with her, I'm undecided, but I'll be dashed if I'm going to go around to her house.

I've got a week full of supper dates with lovely girls lined up, fast becoming two weeks actually. These girls are a mixture of good friends and ex-lovers so they shall be brilliant company and good advice. I may even get the occasional hug out of it.

As such I've decided that A shall have to work very hard for my attention now, as much as I would like things to work out I simply won't put up with this sort of behavour from anyone.

This was inspired from two thing. reading through my diary this morning, (it goes back three years now, which I think is actually quite impressive) it recalls a range of girls from the nasty to the awfully pleasant. I was reminded what nice girls are like.

The second part was when I talked to work friends about the weekend they were if anything more shocked by A's behavour, specifically the not meeting me at the airport part.

The grubby sales person even said something rather astute about it all which was a touch shocking, especially considering the situation he's got himself into. It's that classic thing of being able to see other peoples problems with complete clarity.

The kindness of strangers.

I went to the pub yesterday with some chums and a random woman came up to me and used the line below.

'You know, you look like Jonny Depp, can I have your number?'

I don't look like Jonny Depp. But I gave her my number, it seemed rude not too.

The chums were on form; I had to go outside for a bit as I was laughing so hard it was hurting. It's nice to spend time with friends like that. People who really care and make you laugh so much it can be dangerous for your health.

What a lovely end to a some-what troubled weekend.

For every time, there is a tea.

My new tea is chamomile, I drank it in the villa in the mornings when no-one else was awake and I wondered why I was getting such a frosty reception from A.

The holiday was not what I expected at all. The villa was amazing and the weather perfect but alas things with A were not as I would have hoped. In the time between her departure and my arrival something happened, some shift of attitude. We were not alone together for even a moment so I couldn't really bring it up but it did rather put touch less pleasant spin on the holiday.

I don't really understand it, especially as it seems every other girl I've ever met is suddenly thinking of me and asking me out. While I holiday I got another raft of messages asking if I could go out for a drink. It is nice to be wanted by some people at least.

I don't know what my next move will be now, there is a lot to consider.

It's arrived

Note: please read this post while listening to Morning Mood (allegretto pastorale) by Grieg.

The day has come for my journey to Sodom and Gomorrah. I'm packed, groomed to within an inch of my life and ready for what ever the weekend throws at me.

I had to pack rather late last night, even by the time I had got home I was still not in any sort of state to co-ordinated socks. It's over now, and while I may have been a dash excessive on the shirt side of things I think I have a good mix.

I'm wearing my greatest pants, not best. Best doesn't quite convey the sense of wonder and awe that this underwear deserves. What makes them even better is if I decide to jump straight into the pool on arrival at the villa (provided I know where it is of course) they would not let me down in the important department of not revealing too much while still looking good.

Yes, these are very dangerous pants. Of course they have benefits I feel the likelihood of an attack on the flight is greatly reduced while wearing them. At the first sign of a threat to my fabulous undergarments I would be forced to spring into action. People talk about getting between a lioness and her cubs, have no idea of the dangers of endangering a fop's wardrobe.

While my sartorial situation is very much in hand I am still undecided with regards to A. Should I resist the kiss? (this is a rhetorical question ladies before you think about posting something smug) I've devised a few speeches and discarded them for being impossibly annoying. I think I may just take this weekend as it comes and see where the adventure leads me.

I wonder what will happen...

One more bottle...

I just had a lunch meeting. I drank 4 bottles of wine. I'm ruined, I have no capacity for booze since I've got into shape.

I've got to pack tonight, and I can't feel my legs.

Oh dear.

Mystic Louche Predicts...

Note: Please read this next bit in a spooky voice

I see this weekend, not much is clear. I see, I see a change. Something ends and another begins.

I see a choice, a difficult one. The right path doesn't involve lavish gifts. Yes it will be a time of changes.

You can stop the spooky voice now.

I'm pretty sure something will change this weekend. I'm not sure what but change indeed. Sadly 'change' is one of the hardest events to dress for. Should I pack a suit? Does change require formal wear? What sort of shoes are best for change?

It's only a weekend so I don't need that many changes of clothes do I? I'm sure I could get by on only two outfits a day, plus a spare one.

So far I've packed a towel and selected my fragrances for the trip, I've gone for citrus based scents as I feel that will fit in better with occasion. H texted me, he is having a whale of a time there already, it's very hot there and now at least I know the vague location of his apartment so I have a fall back on somewhere to stay I won't have to rough it like Ray Meyers, living off the land and hunting for food.

I'm listening to 'The Beast' by Milt Buckner, it is ultra lounge. It makes me want to drink cocktails, I haven't had a decent cocktail in ages. I want to go to a cocktail bar and talk to girls in nice shoes. It's been such a while since I chatted up a girl in a bar with immoral intentions, I half wonder if my patter is out of date.

Saying that 'ding dong' is timeless...

J' accuse!

I had another female friend accuse me of being:

'someone who secretly enjoys tortured romantic entanglements and such like'

What poppy cock! While I do enjoy the thrill of the chase this sort of situation is just bad for the soul. It's the sort of thing that encourages a chap to go to Budapest and work on an getting an absynthe habit.

I've already had adventures with absynthe and it was a miracle I survived the first time. While skipping across the rooftops of Edinburgh wearing a cape does hold a special warped place in my memory I don't think I have enough luck in me for a second attempt.

Well I'm now two days away from going to Ibiza, I would say my mood is pensive, tinged with a bit of hope. I would imagine that to be a sort of purple.

Links

I would just like to say thank you to those people that have started linking to me; and also everyone who has commented. It's lovely to hear that some people are actually reading things blatherings. One or two have even gone so far as to say they enjoy it.

Thank you again, you really are jolly good sports.

Louche's Second Theory of Girlativity

This weekend has been weird, very weird. As Friday was the last day before A went to Ibiza with the advance party I thought it would be best to be as jovial as possible and I was. Then at the end of the day there was a mission to the pub but I had other events to go to which seemed to cause great offense to A.
I said 'please lets part on good terms so I can look forward to my holiday.' Which seemed to work, even if she was a bit peeved. Anyway I went home and didn't think much more on it, apart from that we could have left on better terms.

A then phoned on Saturday morning, in a very friendly way for no real reason. Then for the whole of Saturday a wide range of girls were sending me text messages about 'things'. I don't think I've ever had so many messages with out prompting in one day. There must be something in the air today.

So I have formed my second theory of girlativity. This that there are actually three different versions of every girl. One is evil, one is nice and the third one is entirely theoretical. These girls swap places at a moments notice and are impossible to tell apart, aside from their entirely different attitudes. I'm going to see if there is anyway you can track the changes, or even map them. This information could save chaps all over the globe.

I'm going

I've booked the time off, it's public knowledge. 48 hours in Ibiza.

It is either going to be the worst holiday ever, or brilliant. I don't see any middle ground.

Girls, a scientific study

Here is a jolly scientific diagram showing how girls work/what they are made off. It shows how girls change as you get to know them better.

It's very scientific, I'm even wearing a white lab coat as I type this.

A recipe for chestnut rolls, by popular request

Here you go chaps. This is from my mother who got it off one of her friends. They are absolutely delish!

Chestnut Sausage Rolls

8 ounces of puff pastry

1 8oz can of unsweetened chestnut puree

I small onion, grated

I crushed garlic clove

I tablespoon lemon juice

I tablespoon soy sauce

4 oz soft brown breadcrumbs

chilli powder

(This is the standard recipe. I put a lot more garlic, onions, soy and chilli in than this because I hate bland stuff.)

Mix filling ingredients. Leave for a while so the breadcrumbs plump up. Add a few more breadcrumbs if mix is too sloppy. It needs to be the consistency of sausagemeat. Roll pastry thinly, cut into long strips 2 inches wide. Roll chestnut mix into rolls size of a little finger and length of the pastry strips and lay on top of the pastry. Damp edges of pastry with cold water, then roll them round mix, pressing edges together. Prick with fork, cut into small rolls, brush with egg or milk if poss. Bake for 10 mins 190 degrees C; 375 degrees F or gas mark 5. You can make these and freeze them before you cook them: they take 15 mins in oven from frozen. Very good with a dip like mango chutney or sour cream.