Social Experiments

Miss here,

this weekend was all about social experiments. Well there was 2 of them.

Ever since G announced she was moving in with O we have been searching for a new housemate. Someone who is going to fit in with our love of pissed house karaoke and nudity. We started off in earnest, asking people many a question over the phone and arranging viewing times. By the end of the week the standards had slumped to a perfunctory 'What's your name? How old are you? What you do for a living? Yeah come over when you want.'

I would like to say the callibre of people we saw left us torn between which fabulous person should join us. But I can't. They were all men...it would seem that straight girls are rather scared of living with lesbians (can't think why, thought we had a great reputation) but straight men, generally, don't give a rats arse who you wanna shag.

Or maybe they do, but they're so desperate because nobody wants to live with them that they just pretend they don't. Anyway...we saw one really smug, bearded monster who we allowed in the house for a grand total of 6 minutes. One man who Mr thought had a tick and kept telling us about all the secret services he had served in around the world. He did offer to teach us how to use 'mild' weapons though which was nice of him. One 'city boy' - God knows why he showed up - who we have still yet to tell the bad news. Let him down gently. And one lad who seemed so nervous that he obviously couldn't wait to run out the door.

Finally we had a call from a Scot, who J was convinced was passive aggressive, but we were scraping the bottom of the barrel and the weapons tutor was winning so we thought 'oh fuck it why not'.

He is lovely. Cheeky little chimpy face. Mr is already in love with him and he is as gay as Mr Motivator. He shall now go by the imaginative name of Scot. He is moving in Saturday and we shall let you know how it goes.

The second social experiment was us having the amazing idea of not smoking for the night and seeing if not stinking of fags makes you more attractive when you're out.

I thought some girl was hitting on me...only to discover she had a rather possessive girlfriend. Mr, sadly, had worse luck than usual. Oh no wait! We did both get felt up at the bar. By 2 fat straight bitches from Essex who were on a 'be gay for the night' trip.

We decided to leave, only to find all the attractive people milling about outside smoking chatting to each other because they weren't drowned out by some god awful Euro Pop from Slovakia.

It's a shit word, but a great concept - Smirting.

Room with a view...of fag packets, beer cans and a paddling pool full of strange little maggots

Evening, Mr and Miss here.

We have learnt a couple of important lessons over the last few weeks.

1) Don't ever live with a couple.

2) Generally don't do anybody any favours.

A few months ago we helped out our friend G by allowing her to crash on our sofa, completely free of charge, while she settled into London. She had had a run of very bad luck over the past few years so we decided to help here get back on her feet.

Things started off great, we helped her get a job, she was coming out (not like that) and we seemed to be one happy family so when P moved out, we gave her his room (the best in the house we might add).

However about 3 weeks in she shagged our other friend O and within 6 days they had completed the steps to married life. A process which takes normal people about 3 years. Or about never in our case. She rapidly dumped her friends, barricaded herself in her room and became all...whispery.

Last Thursday we received some news (by text) informing us that G was moving in with O. When we returned home on Friday she had managed to clean out her room. Do you remember that episode of Sex and the City where Carrie gets dumped on a post-it note? Well there wasn't even a post-it note.

In a week we have received, by way of apology, one defensively short email. Moral of the tale? There are some friends who will always put a partner before anything else. Recognise them quickly and don't do them any favours.

So with an empty room for the taking and rent day looming ever closer, we need to find a new housemate. Or more realistically some god awful freak who nobody else wants to live with, whom we pray will stay in their room, out of our sight.

In keeping with our quest to become more liberal, we have decided on the pre-requisite that said housemate must be gay. But not too gay. Baby steps.

Get Fresh for the Weekend

Miss here. How do?

Well it's a Saturday night and I have just, literally, come home and I am typing this in my underwear. Already I have had to delete about 8 words due to spelling mistakes and I am going to get Mr to read through this after.

I love rugby. I do. I am a celt and i am born to do be patriotic whether I like it or not. So tonight was the rugby World Cup Final.

Obviously I supported South Africa (you can curse me as much as you want but you know every Irish, Welsh and Scottish person was doing the same) so I went to cheer the buggers on.

Now, I am pretty sure that somewhere in Soho would have been showing the game where I could have chatted to girls about the skill and to the boys about the legs...yes I am stereotyping. But somehow I ended up in a tiny pub sat next to a racist football fan and chatting up a man.

I even gave him my phone number and invited him to our house party. There is something predominantly wrong with my genes.

Why can I flirt very easily with men but not at all with women??? Seriously, I could get a boyfriend so easily but I can not chat up women to save my own life. Maybe I have the mental capacity of a 15 year old. Who knows?

I do know my spelling is rather great right now though. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that jazz.

London to Brighton

Hello, Mr Here.

Miss and I have returned to the big smoke following our 'adventure' in the gay capital of England. There was much debate beforehand as to what can be classified as the 'gay capital' - London, Manchester or Brighton. This was mainly due to Miss, having been there for almost 3 minutes, not having spotted one overtly gay person. However as we were there at the time we decided on Brighton.

We won't bore you with what we did in the day time as this involves watching animal clips (the best kind) on 'You've Been Framed' and seeing England beat France in the rugby (a sore point for Miss who is a celt).

Then it was on to Brighton's premiere nightclub Revenge.

Some things you should know about gay clubs outside of London.

1. The clientelle are much less attractive. This results in there being less opportunity to pull someone who isn't a monster...or someone who is far out of our league and too pissed to know better. It does however have the added bonus of making us feel more attractive and superior. In a club inhabited by men dressed as Fred Kruegar, fat girls with poppers stored between their even fatter tits and a midget Angelina Jolie look-a-like, we were the shit. Not to blow our own trumpet but one girl actually stopped us to take a photo simply because '[you] are the most beautiful people here'. This almost never, ney NEVER happens back home. And just for the record we're not biased because we are not native Londoners.

2. The music is a lot less pretentious. You can feel free to dance around like a complete twat without fear of being scrutinised by some poncey gay in skinny black jeans and one of those Yasser Arafat neck-scarfs. Plus you know all the words so you can have a good sing rather than mumbling along to some cheesy lounge shite because everyone else knows the words and you don't.

3. The choice of narcotics on offer extended to said bottle of poppers between fat girl's tits. One whiff and the gays were seen to flock to her mammaries like a gaggle of honking geese. (Miss would like to point out that Mr was the alpha goose).

4. Drinks were an absolute steal.

5. People still think it's more than appropriate to give hickies after the age of 12. Mr learnt this to his detriment and is still ashamedly sporting a range of polo necks to the office.

6. They are rather nice beaches a stone's throw from the clubs' doorsteps.

Leading on from points 5 and 6 takes us to Mr's adventure for the rest of the night...

Seeing it only right that I pull when in the gay capital of England our friend LG chivalrously intervened as I am pathetic at pulling for myself and still play by the playground rules of 'my mate fancies your mate etc'.

Enter The Giant.

He seemed nice enough. Rather posh, nice hair. Oh and he did seem to be a smoker which always gets me excited. That's about all I can remember, I would tell you more but Miss and LG promptly did one and left me on my own.

Somewhere between them leaving and me finding them again I acquired 3 dark and painful lovebites. I do remember pointing out to him that this was 'quite irritating actually' as I would have to attempt to cover them up for the next week. I am so cool.

I finally made my excuses (I got up and walked off in silence) and ran to find Miss only to announce I needed to throw up. So we quickly gathered our things, ran out to the pier, where I proceeded to expel the total price of £7.20 worth of Red Stripe and tequila.

Somehow, god knows how, LG had gotten hold of The Giant's number and had heard on the rumour mill that he had procured some beers and was down on the beach. The next logical step was for us to join him there and steal as much said booze as possible.

Miss had had enough and stumbled off to get chips. When she returned she found us 'engrossed' in conversation with The Giant's older lesbian (!) sister and her 'girl'friend who introduced herself as 'too lazy to pronounce my own name so call me H'.

Lesson learnt - if you're not willing to let someone rape your neck do not expect to be able to rape their booze supply.

Allow us to introduce ourselves

Welcome to the lives of the worst gay man and worst lesbian woman in London. Introducing Mr and Miss.

Two best friends, having lived in London for the past 2 years, and inhabiting Soho for the majority of that time (as well as numerous internet social networks). You would think one of us would have managed to establish a meaningful relationship. Or, failing that, normal casual sex.

But no...

We can't.

Now don't get us wrong. On our day we ar not unattractive people. Fair enough we may not make an effort on a daily basis but when push comes to shove (into the shower) we do scrub up rather well. Nor are we afflicted with the personalities of wet mops. Many people have been known to comment on our outgoing social behaviour and we are, generally, pleased with our ability to create humour. In fact, many people have frequently commented that they wonder why we are still single.

So do we.

There could be numerous reasons for this.

1) We're too outgoing.
2) We spend too much time with our incestuous group of friends.
3) We appear to be in some form of unhealthy relationship with each other.
4) We are really fucking picky.

We probably should have started this earlier - but to recap, here are some examples of things that have gone awry since our time here.

* Miss manages to get a date with a model (after her straight friend- L - pulled her) only to somehow turn her straight for a year and make her run off to LA.
* Mr, in failing to procure the man that he wants, instead indulges in random foreplay with his psycho boyfriend. Said psycho boyfriend (who looked like Bradley Walsh) ends up punching our good friend in the face and pissing on her whilst she's vsiting. She hasn't been back since.
* Miss falls for another ridiculously good looking girl, who fails to mention she has a girlfriend and Miss spends a good year of her life trying to convince said girl to go out with her. She doesn't.
* Mr, in trying to get over a horrific break up manages to sleep with a man with no stomach. You may think this is medically impossible - but you are wrong.
* Miss dates a girl who makes her feel like a paedophile.
* Mr dates a boy that makes him feel like a paedophile.
* Miss gets an opportunity to sleep with aforementioned straight model and doesn't because of the paedophile girl.
* Mr sleeps with a boy that looks like the crazy frog whilst at a reality TV show audition. Neither of them gets the part.
* Miss spends many nights out trying to pull her friend of 13 years, who is too drunk to thankfully remember.
* Mr dates an apparently nice man who turns out to have a distinct hatred of homosexuals and spills class D drugs on him before ordering him into a shower...alone.
* Miss resorts to inappropriately touching up her friends for physical closeness.
* Mr arranges a date via the internet with an old school friend (far out of his league) and realising this practically rapes him.
* Both Mr and Miss try to break up happy relationships and fail abysmally...we are nice people though. Just lonely people.

However, there has been a shift lately. Mr has decided to strike out on his own and explore the world. Miss hasn't realised there's a world outside London and Greece yet.

So, as a way to maintain our adventures, and a sort of social experiment, we have decided to keep a record of our time apart and see whether we can finally form a fully functional relationship. Miss believes that Mr will finally see she has been a complete hinderance to his love life for the past 4 years and Mr believes that a month on his own will render him to come crawling back.

But we are not alone in our adventures. Below are a cast of close characters that help us on our journey. As a brief outline let us inform you that we all met, one way another, through university 4-5 years ago.

L - housemate. Asexual. Female.
J - twin of housemate. Bisexual. Female.
Z - on/ off girlfriend of J and best friend of L. Female. Doesn't know what she is.
P - ex housemate. Straight. Male.
G - new housemate. Straight. Female.
O - housemate of J. Boyfirned of G. Straight. Male.
F - soon to be housemate. Straight (apart from one fateful night). Female. Gimp.

So we begin our blog on the weekend that we decide to travel to the mecca of Gay Britain...Brighton. Our quest revolves around our hope that we can become more tolerant and pull as many different varieties (or even one nice one) of homosexuals as possible. Actually to pull anyone that we remotely fancy may actually break the curse and send the earth spinning towards the sun. Who knows???

Wish us luck.