There are many things in life that puzzle me. Like, why does the word kebab not appear in predictive texting? And why is it impossible to pee straight after sex? And, having spent the afternoon raking through Real magazine's model files, what is the obsession with sullen, freckly redheads who look like extras from Planet Of The Apes? Sure, a wet warm orifice is a wet warm orifice, and I'll take whatever I can get, but these girls are supposed to be hot. It must all be down to the cheekbones - chiselled features are very desirable, as it means the girl is more likely to swallow. Don't get me wrong, I've nothing against redheaded girls, but surely London's top model agencies can do better than this; I've met finer women at a swingers party. I may sound mean, but I'm a toothless hamster compared to the staff who had scrawled their bitchy comments on the cards; 'Too old. Too young. Nose too pointy. No way. Strange ears. Difficult to work with. Pregnant. Eyes too far apart.' They somehow manage to make some of the nicest girls in the country sound like menopausal mums. It's like a guy turning down Jordan because her breasts aren't natural. Er, yeah, but neither's your mum sucking you off and you don't complain at that, do you? I felt sorry for some of the cuter girls, so removed them from the file and took them home with me. Next time I'm needing a partner to attend a dinner party with, I'll know who to call. Even the butchest, bad-tempered, 'I don't perform oral sex' models looked like schoolgirls, however, compared to some of the other images I discovered while cleaning out the office. Cosmetic Surgery Magazine? Nice, I was needing a new vagina. An illustrated female incontinence catalogue? Don't you just hate it when you get pissed and go to the cinema and you're busting for the toilet half-way through? With one of these, you can just let it all go. All that's needed is a dummy and a mature woman to spank your ass and the 'being mothered' fantasy is complete. I also encountered a press release advising women to perform pelvic thrusts in order to improve their sex lives. Er, yes. I believe it's called fucking.
I went for lunch today at a trendy noodle bar just around the corner from Real. Having spent the morning listening to the chatter of a thousand female voices (or so it seemed) and reading true-life stories ('My breast implants made me anorexic'. Isn't that what every woman wants?), I felt a treat was in order. My hopes of getting a quiet lunch were dashed, however, when I was spotted by Trudi and Rachael, the Real fashion directors. I didn't mind sitting with them, but felt pessimistic about my chances of using chopsticks without disgracing myself. After a couple of attempts, however, it all came flooding back to me and I triumphantly cleared my plate faster than Vanessa Feltz at an eat-all-you-can buffet. Hang on, I used that one yesterday, let's say faster than an ejaculation hitting the toilet bowl. All in all, I think I handled the social occasion pretty well, apart from unthinkingly bringing up the subject of lesbians during a conversation about television. On the way back to the office, I was accosted by a dodgy guy trying to sell me his last bit of pot. Normally, this is a bad thing as it means they think I'm an Aberdeen mink who would sell his sister to buy drugs, but in Camden it's a miracle that I went three days before getting asked. Back at the office, I amused myself by reading an article on female masturbation. 'It started with sexy pillow talk... my boyfriend admitted that he'd masturbated about me for weeks before asking me out.' Man, his dick must have been really sore. I wish I could think of sexy pillow talk like that to turn my girlfriend on. 'Hey baby, I was fantasysing about popping you in the ass when I was chugging in the sink last nite.' Further on in the article, Rachel complains that her 50-year-old husband is preventing them from having sex at nite by cracking one off in the morning. Please, someone, shoot me before I get to that stage. An expert on masturbation ( I thought I was the only one) goes on to say 'I've seen cases where one person no longer gets gratification from having sex with their partner and relies on masturbation instead.' Uh-oh. Perhaps now is a good time to make a confession; I haven't came inside my girlfriend for months. I lie on top of her, sucking her nipples, while she gets me off with one hand and herself with the other. Is this not normal? My girlfriend, who is much more experienced than me, said that most couples did this. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll pop next door to Real's Agony Aunt and have a few quiet words.