Chat Up Lines

Thank you all for your birthday wishes. The event has passed reasonably quietly. I drank the bar out of their weekly supply of Smirnoff Ice, and had a largely trouble free night with the least bitchy of my acquaintances.

Perhaps the most difficult part of my birthday weekend was justifying my presents to my mother. One friend thought it would be most humorous to buy me a book, “How to chat up women”, which I can recommend, despite giving a wholly heterosexual outlook on dating. I hope my friend was suggesting the irony of me not needing a book. It has however offered me some advice on the role of facial hair in flirting. Apparently if I grow a goatee I will attract a different kind of woman. I bet.

I justified the above gift with a made up tale of me chatting up the dinner ladies in school to get bigger portions. The very thought of chatting up our gnarled dinner ladies makes my little stomach turn.

Another friend got me a nice card with a picture of a masturbating woman on the front of it. She had, at least, pre warned me of this. Thank god I took her warning seriously. That would have been slightly more difficult to explain. I think the vibrating laser gun toy from another person who perhaps thinks I am about to begin childhood regression may also have connotations, but not any my parents would pick up on.

My new snazzy walkman mobile phone has been filled up with the best of dykish tunes, meaning I can declare my sexuality covertly by my music choice on the move.

Oh to be 17 again….