By Martin Bishop
I’M one of a growing number of young people who are choosing not to have sex, and it’s nothing to do with my strange personality or worrying religious beliefs.
We live in a hyper-sexualised world where sex is a commodity, not a special, beautiful thing between a man and a shy, pure woman untainted by other penises.
When you meet me you’ll find I’m a normal guy with a decent job in IT, although you’ll soon start to notice my off-kilter social skills, such as talking about Land Rovers for 20 minutes when you’re clearly not interested.
You’ll also wonder why I keep mentioning ‘spirituality’. Soon I’ll reveal I’m a full-on Christian, the sort who volunteers for a youth group where we teach children demons are real.
I’m only a virgin because I’m waiting for the right woman. She’s got to be beautiful, intelligent, kind and wise, like Emma Watson crossed with my gran. That sounds unrealistic, but it’s okay if she’s not intelligent.
Being a virgin also has nothing to do with my hobby of egg collecting. If I was a hot girl I’d be fascinated by hundreds of old, lifeless eggs arranged obsessively in cabinets.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered losing my virginity by picking up someone in a club. But the drink prices play havoc with my strict personal budget and a lot of women have diseases these days.
So as you can see, being a virgin is a lifestyle choice and perfectly normal, although sometimes I have to go to the doctor’s with ‘wanking injuries’.