2001-02-01 - 18:13:13

�Our frank and open�deep conversations�they get me nowhere�they bring me down so��

Though you wouldn�t think it to read me, I�m actually the perfect gentleman with the fairer sex, if you�ll allow me to be patronisingly gender-ist for a second. So much so, that I�m often mistaken for a full-blown homosexual (not that there�s anything wrong with that). Often, in the days I had dates (which coincided with the days I had big quiffy hair and no glasses�hmmm), just because I wouldn�t make saliva-drenched lunges over the object of my affection after 5 minutes of light small-talk, they�d start asking questions directed firmly at my sexuality, and whilst we all know that I help out when they�re busy, I�m afraid I�m far from a fully paid up member of the men-only appreciation society (not that there�s anything wrong with that). Even in recent times, I�ve happily shared a bed with attractive young ladies, and not felt the need to wake them by furtively stroking their naughty bits (not that there�s anything wrong with that), only to be doubted and redoubted in the areas of my heterosexual-ish leanings. Now call me Johnny-No-Testosterone, but am I to get nowhere with the female of the species just because on, say, a first date, I don�t drag the girl of the moment into my room, lash her to my futon, cover her in pureed monkey glands and lick it off blindfolded? Not that there�s�.actually, perhaps there are limits.

With men, of course, you just have to wander into the general area of their scent receptors. Ker-ching.

�Give it a rest, won�t you�give me a cigarette�god give me patience, just no more conversation��

It�s party time at chez pablo ce weekend. 2 new co-habitants want their flat warmed, and so they shall be satiated. My plan is to open up my room, and people can come and go as they please, but if they stay, it will be subject to my choice of alcohol, music and drugs. It�s time for the guests to circulate round the hosts. Of course, this does always mean a horrid amount of ropey red wine on the carpet, but there�s so much now, it just looks like an enhancement of the intended pattern. I�ve invited as many people as possible, since I have 14 cases of cheap French lager to shift (leftovers from the �fund� �raising� party for the film). Yes, of course you can come! Five English pounds � all you can drink. Now there�s an offer you can�t refuse. As long as you�re prepared to witness the effects of cheap Polish ecstasy and dance to Japanese club pop.

I thought so.

�Oh won�t somebody stop me, from thinking, from thinking all the time, about everything��

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