Ten Things I hate About You
1.     Lack of experience as a human being
2.     Your inability to see yourself objectively
3.     Your preoccupation with material success
4.     Narrow minded
5.     Lack of ability to laugh at yourself
6.     Driven by social constructs impossible to fulfill
7.     Your power over my life
8.     Pathetic communication skills
9.     Lame outside of the box thinking
10.   You pull the ugliest face expression when you don't like someone.

Alex and I were in the supermarket debating over which scented candle we should invest our hard earned money on. This is a very tough subject because, as you probably already know, choosing the right candle is up there with whether we should go to war or if nuclear power is a feasible energy source.

We went through a variety of different and ridiculous flavours while A repeatedly muttered "no! the scent should be manly, I dont want some girly crap in the house!"  After 'Fairy Dust,' 'Moonstorm' and 'Summer Pudding' had been  rejected out right - by which point I was watching with amusement, he finally settled on his perfect choice. Handing it to me, I looked at him, confused. 

"Jasmine?"

To which he flexed his muscles and said in a firm voice

"Wild Jasmine"

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Girl A: You know, yeah, what I hate about feminism, yeah, is that they hate sucking cock.

Girl B: Yeah!

Girl A: I mean, I dont mind sucking cock as long as a guy goes down on me too.

Boy: I dated a girl last year who was a complete feminist. She said that sucking cocks was for whores.

Girl A: Really?

Boy: Yeah man. She gave me the clap and all. My cock might have fallen off.

Alex is going away this weekend to a Goa-style music festival in Germany. The kind where you can smoke crack whilst deepening your yoga pose, listen to bhangra drums and watch the sunset. Oh the joy.

As a part of our relationship peace deal that we have brokered over many rational bottles of wine, the snooze button was not to be put in use when, at 4am this morning, he had to get up.

His alarm music is a strange version of the Mission Impossible theme tune and that in itself is quite ironic. The moment the alarm sounded, I sprung out of bed and handed the alarm to him.

He hit the snooze button.

I lay there very quietly until I heard his breath start to deepen again and then I shrieked "YOU WILL MISS YOUR PLANE!!"

He was up, out the door and dressed in seconds.