The Further Adventures of a London Call Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

you and everyone else.’
‘But it was historically important!’
‘That’s a different game.’
ObScore: 1/10
    • A4: Is named for an ancestor of his who was hanged for being a Luddite.
‘Oooooh.’
ObScore: 8/10
    • Me: Was kissed by the singer from Franz Ferdinand.
‘It was only a peck. His girlfriend was right there.’
‘Not that you would usually find that a problem …’
‘I was on a date with his brother’s friend, you see.’
‘Did the friend get to kiss you?’
‘He didn’t even try.’
ObScore: 4/10
    • N: Lives round the corner from Cynthia Payne.
‘Britain’s première prostitute. She ever invite you in?’
‘Hey, I resent that!’
ObScore: 6/10
    • A3: Had a ticket for one of what turned out to be one of Joy Division’s last ever gigs; it was cancelled when the singer had an epileptic fit; everyone rushed the stage.
‘I don’t think any of us can top that.’
    • ObScore: 9/10 (and the winner)
    Dear Belle
    Dear Belle,
    I recently arranged a blind date on a gay hook-up website – and the man who came to meet me was my closeted father. Family dinner conversation is now somewhat stilted. Do I tell Mum?
    Dear Twisted Sister,
    Only if you two are now an item.

    Dear Belle,
    My boyfriend fantasises about covering me in strawberry jam. Maybe I am a bit of a stereotypical gayer, but I like my body to be clean and sweet-smelling, and can’t bear the idea of properly sticky sex and then hours in a bath scrubbing syrup off my whatsits. Can you suggest how I gently turn down his suggestion, or another substance we could substitute for the jam? To his credit, he is a Bonne Maman man.
    Dear Squeaky Clean,
    Few things taste better than cream tea on a human plate, but I do understand your reservations. Whole fruits, organic and in season, are far cleaner than messy jam. Failing that, supply him with yummy fruity-smelling soaps and similar in a picnic hamper or resign yourself to the fact that getting sticky is one of those things we have to do for love.

    Dear Belle,
    I’m quite capable of coming up with a chat-up line. My problem is what to say next. Any suggestions?
    Dear Tongue-Tied,
    Your name and a suggestion to buy the object of your affection a drink are usually a good place to start. But I have a question for you: what’s a nice lad like you doing in a column like this?

    Dear Belle,
    I’ve fallen for a gorgeous Catholic girl. She’s pledged to stay a virgin until she’s married. I’ve pledged to shag her before the summer. How can I tempt her into the sins of the flesh?
    Dear Mortal Sin,
    Pop the question. It doesn’t mean you have to go through with it, and if my understanding is correct Catholic girls will normally let you have one sample before buying.

Octobre
    vendredi, le 1 octobre
    N reinstated as a fuck buddy for the time being. Is good because: he’s good in bed, has a car, and can take a hint when he’s not welcome. Is bad because: wait, can’t think why it would be bad. Will come back to that later if there is time.
    ‘Hey, pretty lady. Been trying to ring you all day,’ N said.
    ‘Sorry. Dropped in and saw A1 after work. He’s in a mobile black spot.’
    ‘Fair enough. How is the big guy?’
    ‘He’s fine, said to say hi to you. Ended up waiting for him ages, though, got cornered by his boss. If that man sucked up more air from the room you’d have to call him Dyson.’
    ‘Yikes. That bad?’
    ‘Worse. He went to the opera with his wife last week – poor thing, I bet she doesn’t get a moment’s peace. Anyway, they went to see Les Mamelles de Tirésias, which the boss took a lot of pleasure in telling me meant Theresa’s Tits.’
    ‘Patronising twat.’
    ‘No kidding. Then he was off on some lecture about breasts and how some academic boffin or other proposed that men like breasts because Neanderthals preferred their coitus from behind and the mammary glands remind one of buttocks. Or something.’
    ‘Rubbish,’ N said. ‘How many arses have you ever seen