Bad timing

We all know that famous saying, 'Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars' which is why perhaps I choose to put up with some of my boyfriends more unsavoury habits. It's a fact of nature after all that men haven't evolved all that far from their primitive cavemen routes! I manage to look past the toe nail picking (at least he doesn't sit in the lounge eating them like one of my male ex-housemates!) and the farting but as long as I can set certain perimeters:

1) Try to minimise the farting when I'm around - he attempts to look sheepish after the event but I know that inside he is not-so-secretly quite proud
2) Try to aim for a well ventilated place - my boyfriend thought he was onto a winner when he would do it whenever I left the room until upon my return I was hit by a wall of odour
And 3) Definitely no farting in my bed! I'll have none of this cocking of the leg & sneakily lifting up the edge of the duvet cover to subtely waft in out - your covers blown & I'm on to you!

So with these few simple rules in place I was confident that I had my man well trained - or as well as can be expected at least! Little did I know that nothing can prepare you for a fart that squeaks out just as your man is cuming (I kid you not!) In the shock and sheer horror of the moment I did not know how to react - my immediate reaction was to laugh hysterically and roll about on the floor crying to myself. Scratch that, the supposed intimate 'poist-coital' moments are not ones for laughing at the expense of your partner. So, like a trooper, I sucked it up (not literally!) aligned my face so that it didn't give the game away, screwed my eyes up & gave him a little congratulatory kiss - for the sex, not for the ill-timed fart I'd like to add! As we pulled away I gave him a few moments to rearrange & sort himself out before we fell into the customary post-sex spoon. And at this point I couldn't hold it in any longer it started as a snicker, then a splutter and then I was gone. The poor guy - he knew it, I knew it, he had hoped for a few precious moments that he had got away with it, but no! His mortified face was enough to let me know that his farting etiquette would be improving from now on in order that he hoped this unfortunate tale would never have to surface again!

Crystal

She was argueably the alpha female of our coyote pack and we hung off every sequinned word that dripped from her. Raised by her single mother and her single mother's gay best friend with a hippy-dippy free love mantra there was no other path for her except to enter a world full of glitter, leopard print and fabulousness.

Queen of the image re-invention, there were not many of us who could recall the natural hair colour of this platinum pixie-bobbed diva. With her exotic brand of foundation always smelling strangely of peanut butter and her false eyelashes thick like hairy spider legs, she resembled one of those department store Clinique make-up counter girls who wore the entire range on a daily basis. . . only it appeared that she has slept in that same make-up for at least two days. Although her skin, as far as I remember, was a pearly, milky white, she always looked like a slightly grubby street urchin where last nights Sun Shimmer had left an imprint in another man's bed.

I would always flash forward several decades down the line to a perfectly clear image of her as an old brown leathery skinned woman with perfectly coiffed (with the help of a whole can of hairspray) peroxide beehive, her tiny frail frame drowned in a floor length fur (not faux fur - controversially, rather like Cruella De Vil, she never could understand why animals shouldn't be sacrificed for the sake of fashion) coat. A cigarette holder dangled from between her rouged lips pursed like two dry withered prunes. Her clawed hands again lacquered with red polish gripped a crystal glass full of a firy amber liquid which swirls dangerously as she totters in sky high heels cladding her sheer stockinged legs. Growing old gracefully was not at option for Crystal. . . go out drawing attention to oneself with an undignified bang or theres no point at all.