Stupid Cupid & Dirty (dirty) Mojitos

Sometimes the Dating Gods decide you deserve a break. More often they decide to fuck with you. And that's fine. I can imagine it must be quite fun toying with our emotions. If I was Cupid I would definitely cause more trouble than good. I'd make people people fall in love with their best friend's husband/wife, make horny teenagers obsess over their maths teacher, and shit on single girls' attempts to find a normal guy to have sex with. It would be hilarious.

Not so much when you're at the receiving end, but I'm learning to see the funny side. I had a date coming up and I'll admit now that I had already written the guy off (9/10 first dates are a complete waste of time). But hallelujah! It turned out to be one of - possibly the best - first date of my life. And I broke all the dating rules...

So a warning now: this post is my naughtiest yet (seriously, I'm blushing as I type... and I haven't even included the dirtiest details).

Black People Can't Act & Diversity Sucks

2015's Oscar nominations caused a bit of an uproar didn't they? And quite rightly. All of the 20 nominated actors and actresses were white. Of the 10 writers nominated not a single one was a woman. And yep, you guessed it, no female directors received any gongs either.

Everyone jokes about the Oscars being racist and sexist, but how true is it actually? And how far does this extend into the rest of the industry?

Just saying it now: I disagree with the idea of "diversity" and here is why...

Sexual Misadventures: Part 3

I thought it would be like that Sam Smith song. It wasn't.

Apparently, you have not truly experienced the Single Life until you have had a One Night Stand. I very rarely go "out" (because hello, London ain't cheap) and so I never meet guys in clubs. I also have a very convenient and nice fuck buddy (update on that situation coming soon) who I can turn to when physical needs demand it. So I date at my leisure and haven't needed to resort to a hook-up.

For the love of London

You are now in London, that great sea, whose ebb and flow at once is deaf and loud, and on the shore vomits its wrecks, and still howls on for more. Yet in its depth what treasures! -P.B. Shelley

I live in London. It’s a grey and red city of juxtapositions, a crazy spectrum reaching across beauty and squalor. I don’t remember when I decided to move here, I don’t even think it was a conscious decision. It was an inevitability. I just knew, always had, London would be my home.