While Nurse Liam is in Londra doing his Florence Nightingale gig, he frets that I’m wasting away on a liquid diet. There’s a lot to waste away these days. I could do with dropping a few pounds around the midriff. Nevertheless, he has a point. My culinary talents would never get me on Masterchef. When I was a young gay boy about town I considered my function in life to be purely decorative. That worked extremely well until I reached about thirty when the looks began to fade. After that I had to learn some proper life skills that would keep, and not just attract, a partner. These days, I’m quite handy about the house. I can scrub better than the best char in town. Sadly, the kitchen has remained a bridge too far. This may explain my life mantra – the 5Cs. This isn’t an indication of bog-standard IQ, but the formula I’ve applied to assess relationship potential. What are the 5Cs? I thought you’d never ask.
Cook – I know good food when I eat it.
Conversation – A brain and an opinion worth hearing.
Car (or the ability to drive) – Another skill I’ve never mastered.
Cuddles – I’m a romantic old sod.
And the last C? Well, I’ll leave that to your filthy imagination.
