Chixe

I have a rare condition whereby my pores secrete a sweet-smelling fragrance during sex. I personally request that any woman I have a relationship makes sure they smell like that — it generally involves rubbing themselves up against me, which, admittedly, is an inefficient method of applying fragrance, but needs must, you understand.

That sounds decidedly unethical. I suggest a visit to HR.

Annoying people singing christmas songs knocking on the door. Freezing cold. Longstanding family issues being brought back into focus. Being woken up at 6am by an excitable 14-year-old.

Love me some Christmas.

I remember asking "Is that it?" a lot with the first girl I slept with.

More in response to Mike than yourself.

Definitely take it to the boss if it warrants it, but I don't think it's necessary to call it sexual harassment.

I must be having a rare moment of generosity and kindness (merry Christmas to all!), because I can't help but feel sorry for a guy you'd happily report for sexual harrassment — and you know a label like that stays with a guy, and has unkind implications — purely for repeated phonecalls to an ex. I'm not saying it may not be warranted, and technically fall under harrassment, but I'm sure there's a more diplomatic approach you can take.

Everything! I am a self-made man, and I worship my creator, to paraphrase John Bright.

A subscription to Fray would be nice. (If anyone's feeling generous, feel free!) And a larger penis, obviously.

im in ur generalisationz, propagatin' them.

You could try Freecycle.

What do you do to keep fit?

I walk to the bus stop round the corner, three mornings a week, and make a rule of avoiding running — because it results in shortness of breath, which I have decided is most unhealthy.

I tend to "shut down" around early January, actually. It has been known to last right up until the final throes of December.

We all love you Nils.

Oh and nice work on the saber, hthth.

So who wants to see me when I was 13?

This is the best photo of Nils.

jensized: I'm trying to work out what your tee says (honest), it looks cool, but I can't make it out. Put me out of my misery?

Yeah, but they're really 14.

C'est moi! (Plus an incredibly drunk friend, but I don't know how to say that in French.)

I'm starting to get a little concerned that I'll look like I'm 14 forever.

I assume we're not talking about having sex for a really long time, right?

No?

Can't help.

Actually, I'd much prefer to call someone than text them, despite hating talking on the phone. I find texts too restrictive -- particularly when the number of characters available is effectively halved, due to my insistence on not abbreviating everything to within 2 letters of its life, and using punctuation. If there's something quick I need to just say, and I'm in a hurry, I'll send a text ("Going to be 5 mins late", "The chick next to you has awesome boobs", etc.) but otherwise, I'll make the call.

Same goes for e-mail; I rarely e-mail people if there's an alternative. Though I think that's more to do with the fact that so few of my friends are tech savvy. Most have e-mail addresses, but to them, they're for notifications from MySpace and Facebook, not for communicating.

I've also realised recently that I rarely bother with IM either.

Admittedly, these are all fairly recent developments (last 6 months, maybe), I used to be a text- and IM-fiend, but not so much anymore. I attribute that partly to having more self-confidence that I used to.

All that said, I have updated Twitter almost 3,000 times since January, but most of my people on there are people I don't know personally, so don't call or text or whatever. And my tweets are totally different from texts or e-mails -- they're a convenient way of having a brain fart, not so much a form of communication.

This party sucks, I'm going out to get drunk.

I'm going to a party tonight, and somehow, I allowed myself to be talked into dressing up as a fairy by a girl I want to have sex with.

I can assure you that there will not be any photos. Ever.

What does that have to do with feminism, auburn?

As far as I can tell, it's simply a case of women/girls exhibiting different symptoms, and as a result, often going mis- or undiagnosed.

That used to work. But until the feminism fad dies down, it's best to steer clear of having "encounters" with women.

Last weekend, I was with a friend, and we saw a girl sat alone at a table not too far away. We briefly pondered approaching her and asking her to join us, then decided against at -- he was drunk and would make a fool of himself, and I would just try to have sex with her (his words, not mine, accurate thought they may be). But then we saw she'd started crying, and felt bad. So I went over and asked if she was alright, genuinely concerned.

She told me to fuck off, apparently thinking I was hitting on her. (Shame, because she had nice eyes.)

Moral? Don't hit on crying girls.

but u seem to be doing pretty good now.

Indeed. I'm going to have start charging for my friendship soon. Want to go out tonight? That'll be ten pounds.

Astronaut, duh.

Actually, my childhood was fraught with self-esteem issues, and all I wanted to be was more popular. Was never one for looking too far into the future, and I'm still not. What I want to "be" still doesn't extend past a few years.

My only cause for venting is that I have no one to vent to. Not a public venter.

Same as my answer in the Celebrity-playing-me-in-a-movie.

Johnny Depp!

Or Zooey Deschanel.

Or a threesome with all three. I'm really not fussy.

Dear 14 year-old sister,

The first thing I wanted to hear when I got up was not some jackass calling himself a rapper going "smack dat, all on the floor."

K?

Ex-oh-ex-oh

Good old college homework.

Also some research for a personal project I'd rather not talk about just yet.

Uh oh. I think Idiocracy is coming true here.

Teehee.

Moments of happiness as a teenager were few and far between. I was always that pasty, geeky kid that was pretty much socially inept. I haven't changed much, but it's cool to be that guy now.

Uh, a double Southern Comfort and Coke. I try and make that the last thing I bought as often as possible. Especially when my favourite barmaid is working. Oh and at the same time, I paid the £5 buy in for a poker tournament.

My ex-girlfriend almost talked me into getting the 1up mushroom from Mario tattooed on my upper chest, and I was up for that. Would have been awesome. But then we broke up and I decided it might be a bad idea.

Still want it though. Some day, maybe.

Got my eyebrow pierced when I was 18, too. But took it out less than a year later.

Currently: nothing.