Before she moves in, she wears teddies and suspenders, and you hold
your farts in until she leaves the room; she's a gorgeous sex
kitten and you tell her so;
you're so sweet and adorable, and blow jobs follow ambient dinners
like a fine port.
After she moves in, she farts in her grungy trackie bottoms while
hypnotised by Coronation Street; you scratch your nuts unashamedly and
bitch about work; oral sex is strictly quid pro quo and the new girl
in the office really does have a great arse.
Six key indicators of when the honeymoon period has finished.
You tell her you don't mind the occasional cold beer on a
hot day with your mates, and that you've taken recreational
drugs but those days are well and truly over.
For the fifth night in a row you stagger in blotto, dig out
your stash and skin up, pass out in the lounge in your underpants
and expect her to accept that you're just being you.
You spray aerosol after a crap; piss on the side of the
bowl to reduce noise and never, ever fart in her presence.
You fart in front of her with impunity and obvious pride,
commenting on the food intake for the day and speculating
on the resultant odour. Despite repeated pleas to the
contrary, you fart in bed and hold her head under the
covers. You think it's hilarious.
Her Auntie Jane is a real character with a lively
personality and interesting views about politics, and
her unemployed girlfriend Amanda is a genuine,
charming supportive friend who you think is really
Auntie Jane is a loud-mouthed, pain-in-the-arse fascist
with all the personality of a cold sore. Amanda is a
manipulative loser, but you wouldn't mind doing her
if the opportunity arose.
Sex is a sweat-soaked, gymnastic romp that lasts for
hours. You have sex to impress, using all your tricks .
Having sex four times a day is not uncommon.
A wank is often preferable to the effort of sex.
When you do have sex, you think about Amanda.
Her words are hypnotic; her wit is incisive; her
anecdotes about her life pre-you are spellbinding.
Over candlelight and coffee you listen with interest
and politely chortle as she recounts stories of her
Your eyes glaze over as soon as she mentions anything
that doesn't involve you. What's more, you develop the
uncanny ability to be able to concentrate on the T.V
and listen to her at the same time. The phrase,
"Are you listening to me?" becomes an evening mantra.
6.The flip side (the female perspective)
She thinks you are witty, disciplined, a sexual
athlete, attentive, loving, faithful and devoid of
all crass male habits which have plagued her previous
relationships.....but she suspects that you're full of
She knows you're full of shit.