Sleeping with The Dame.

The better looking a woman the more likely she is to be straight. The better looking a man the more likely he is to be gay. It's true, though I wish it wasn't. The idea of a herd of ugly lesbians doesn't sound too appealing.

There we have it. The reason why so many men seem to be gay in comparison to the number of women. I tell you, whenever I've been out in Soho, the number of men prancing about far far exceeds the lesbians. And this is precisely why I feel sorry for The Dame. It's never nice choosing from a pack of six when men seem to be choosing from pools of a hundred. And it doesn't help matters that the only women she spotted who she fancied was, she was convinced, straight. Of course, due to The Dame's lack of confidence, we will never know whether she was or whether she was in fact a girl who was looking for a Dame of her own.

This weekend (and a happy Diwali and New Year to my fellow Indians) I spent with The Dame. And what a wonderful weekend it was. A string of films, books and food. Orgasms of a non-sexual nature don't really come much better than this. A good friend is somebody fits into your life so easily that you don't really notice anything different when they're around. And despite this, the pleasantness of being is increased twice over.

I dragged The Dame along with me to my cultural orgy that is the cinema club. And what a fantastic film we saw. 'Little Miss Sunshine'. I shall write a review of this one tomorrow. Though, I will say, if you are bored, looking for a date movie, or in need of something that makes you think and laugh at the same time (yes, that rare combination), then take yourself along immediately. Of course what added to my smiles was seeing The Dame's face at having to pay £3.80 for some popcorn. Now, The Dame is a country girl through and through, though even I am forever shocked by the price of a bit of corn. £3.80! Yikes!

For supper, The Dame and I visited a sushi/noodle joint in Soho. Was nice and I'm growing more and more addicted to Sashimi. Now, without wanting to sound crude (though I have every intention) what's a supposedly gay man doing enjoying slabs of raw fish? Clearly Arthur's theory is wrong wrong wrong!

Okay readers, take note. My top three Soho places to visit: (this is based solely on the past three weeks and the list is bound to change)

1. Thirst Bar. Cocktails to die for. And make sure you watch them as they do that groovy cocktail thang.

2. The Friendly Society. Being the social climber I am, this particular underground gay basement is extraordinarily full of the gay high society. And there are some hotties. Older and firmer and damn right handsome. Mental note: Get three numbers the next time you visit.

3. G-A-Y (though can't wait for it to drop to No10). Arthur is right, it's a tourist attraction and probably so popular due to its name. It's great for cruising. And full of cheesy pop music. The drinks are expensive and the queues are ghastly and so not worth the wait. Otherwise fine, though am looking to move on..and fast.

Club of the moment.

Heaven. It's simply awesome, Talent, great music, more than one level, places for discreet sex and a diverse range of whores. Beautiful. Desdemona and I are planning to go there very shortly.

Highlights of the weekend:

Spending a few hours in Waterstones reading and drinking hot chocolate (for it's only The Dame who I can do this alongside). Hot chocolate with a dash of hazelnut syrup. Delicious. And why is it so? Because it's complete. Here is something in life that doesn't need updating, or enhancing or developing, it simply needs enjoying. And that's where the sex comes in. I mean, yes, it can always improve, but sex is rounded and complete. The experience of sex is I mean. What hazelnut infused hot chocolate and sex have in common really boils down to the ability to make one feel better. In fact, sex is the only thing I can think of that can make you feel so much better without actually costing anything. A lot of sex is free. And granted, a lot of sex is expensive. All of it has potential of being great and about 3/4 of it probably is. The remaining 1/4 simply isn't.

And finally, sleeping with The Dame in a lumpy rearranged single bed was a somewhat enticing experience. She's probably the only girl I could sleep with (barring relatives) and for there to be nothing weird or perverse in the situation. Only friends of the purest kind can sleep together and be the required number of miles apart at the same time. Perfect.