Met BBM for a coffee after work
today (his work, not mine – obviously, given that Judge Judy is my main
employer), and when I earnestly informed him of Guy1’s planned dinner party he
had to be physically restrained from taking the piss. In his world guys “endure” dinner parties
they don’t plan them. And part of that
endurance is the guarantee of either 1. Good loving within 48 hours of the
dinner consumption or 2. A pre-signed Free Pass to be used at any point within
the upcoming month.
By the end of the evening I had
my own suspicions about the long term compatibility between myself and somebody
who’s planning a dinner menu days in advance.
Only Jamie Oliver does that and quite frankly despite all the school
food nonsense, he’s still a cock with a fat tongue.
So once BBM has established his
disdain for my current beau, he made me draw pictures of my ideal man, and
against my best intentions, I readily participated in whatever this exercise
might be using paper napkins from the coffee house and expensive black eyeliner.
So I drew:
- Rob Lowe – that man gets me a
little bit pregnant just by thinking of him, but unfortunately trying to draw
him was an unmitigated disaster – in my head I see the cover of Vanity Fair. My artistic capabilities translated that
image into a Isosceles triangle head, on top
of a eqilateral triangle body. Maybe I
inadvertenty drew Mr. Pythagoras and this mathematical bent is the new
direction of my loins.
- I also drew RAH. Again, this was not artistry at its finest. One of the eye-pencilled hands could easily be misconstrued as a potato, and the other was limited to just three fingers, although one of them had the all important wedding ring....which is going to happen whether I like it or not, sabotage withstanding
Apart from that I couldn’t think
of anything.....somewhere between Rob Lowe and RAH lies the dude that is going
to be my regular shag in the form of a proper boyfriend.
While I was doing my pictures,
BBM was drawing his ideal woman. He drew tits.
Only tits.
NO. Planned dinner parties are something that happen to other people, if anything that even remotely resembles a dinner party ever happens here (and they have on occasion) they are spontaneous and utterly unplanned with plenty of fun and chaos.
ReplyDeleteFood usually consists of whatever is in the fridge/freezer or a last minute dash around a supermarket, is never going to win me a Michelin star but is almost always enjoyed by the majority of people in attendance.
Conversation always descends into childish laughter and/or debauchery.