Les Mis and the rest.

...And yet, it was here that my indiscretions were discretely ushered into the antechamber of their demise. Little did I know, but I was soon to meet the latest object of my desires who would prove to be my second wife, fit as hell, brighter than a 100-watt bulb and sharper than a brand-new Sabatier. In short: my match, and welcome, my dear; please come this way. As an aside: as I write, my wife is 40 with the body of an 18-year-old, a fabulous mother to our two daughters and as shaggable as a coked-up, 21-year-old Marilyn Monroe. Envy me; it's worth the effort, however vicarious.


Our first meeting was at Sunset Boulevard: I was Assistant MD, she worked Front of House, yet had to pass me on her way to the Side Bar every evening as I played the vocal warm-up for the cast on stage. One evening, I sat there as usual with my mobile and my cigarettes on top of the piano when she walked by. Then came the comment: "Mobiles and cigarettes; what other bad habits do you have?". I thought: 'I'm in love.' I'm a sucker for feisty women. We agreed to meet to meet at Caffé Nero, on the corner of Maiden Lane and Southampton Row (No idea if it's still there). She (G) was reading a book about Israel; I'd just been there. G was on the verge of going for an interview for a job on the Isle of Bute in Scotland...the message was clear: this babe was soon to be out of here and I had to make some decisions, and fast. She got the call to go North. Was I interested in coming? Duh! But we were still just 'friends'; this could be embarrassing...

We went to Scotland together. The company had - diplomatically - booked two single rooms for us but I had a perma-boner from Euston to Rothesay (those unfamiliar with UK geography, please check the route. Then you'll understand how painful it was). G got the job, we got together, the rest is almost history (I wasn't a complete saint; at least not in the first year) and now I couldn't imagine life any other way. I tell you (providing you want to 'listen'): Making love with someone you know really well just gets better and better, providing you stick to two basic tenets:

1)    You really believe in the relationship:
2)    You both stay fit.

As soon as beer guts and bingo wings make their presence felt, it's over. Fruit, veg and lots of affection. There's no secret. MacDonalds, Ladbrokes and Liverpool FC will kill anyone's sex life. Here's my recipe:

1)   Fresh fruit, cereal and fish;
2)   Excellent wines from the south-west of France;
3)   Oodles of conversation;
4)   Gorgeous children;
5)   Fit wife:


= High-Quality Shagging.

It ain't rocket science. Bonne nuit à vous tous.