Grace Wood-Morris chose the bank holiday for a discussion, in which she was the key contributor, of how Jack Browne never tells her anything or shares his feelings that lasted for the whole of a Family Guy double bill with adverts.

Browne said: “She muted the TV, took my hand and embarked upon an explanation of why we needed a grown-up conversation about opening up to each other that was without significant pause.

“She said we needed to review how unmindful I am to her needs, and open a broader conduit for emotional discourse, then something about needing to have a more impactful role in nurturing her feelings.

“It was longer than the relationship conversations in Love Island without even the benefit of her being in a bikini. The television continued behind her but I knew better than to even glance at it while I was busy saying ‘Mm’ and ‘Yeah’.

“45 minutes in, when she was outlining the creation of a mutual atmosphere of honest communication, and maybe a trust bubble, I could no longer pretend to understand any of it. I was mainly watching her face move and giving her teeth names.”

Wood-Morris said: “He was attentive and understood the importance of a shared commitment to open channels to prevent our relationship stagnating. But that wasn’t the talk. That was the talk about having the talk.”

‘I’m looking for something serious’

This sentence has ended more modern romances than OnlyFans. A guy who previously texted ‘Good morning, beautiful’ every single day will suddenly remember he’s ‘actually focusing on himself right now’. Even though he spent the last three weeks focusing exclusively on your minge.

‘What are we?’

A man who has happily spent six months acting like your boyfriend – sleeping in your bed, attending your friends’ birthday drinks, and once even calling your dog ‘our baby’ – will react as though you’ve asked him to enter an arranged marriage naked on live telly. Expect ‘labels complicate things’ and ‘why does everything need a definition?’ before he disappears so completely you start wondering if he’s joined the French Foreign Legion or if alien abductions need to be taken more seriously.

‘I’d like you to meet my parents’

Even the most confident man will hear this and immediately picture himself trapped at a barbecue discussing mortgage rates with your stepdad Gary. Within hours he will begin ‘needing space’ and posting gym selfies captioned ‘protecting my peace’.

‘I don’t believe in sex before marriage’

A useful tactic if you’d like to watch a man look for all the building’s exits faster than the SAS can. He’ll initially pretend to respect your values before quietly evaporating into thin air like steam from a kettle, later resurfacing on Hinge saying he’s ‘not sure what he wants right now’. Could it be sex? Sounds like it’s sex.

‘I love you’

The nuclear option. Men can survive intimacy, shared holidays and even seeing you sobbing in Wagamama over ‘everything lately’, but direct emotional honesty is a step too far. The second you say ‘I love you’, he’ll stare into the middle distance like a soldier remembering the horrors of war before explaining he’s ‘actually in a really tough place mentally right now’. He seemed fine 40 seconds earlier when sending you memes about ducks.

The relationship between 27-year-old Jack Browne and 29-year-old Lauren Hewitt has reached the pivotal stage of no longer cutting off communication with other potential partners without warning.

Browne said: “Playing the field by vanishing without notice has been fun, at least for me. But all good things must end.

“I’m not settling down, but I’m ready to stop breadcrumbing girls on my roster then leaving them on read, making them spend long sleepless nights questioning what they’ve done wrong. And honestly it feels fantastic to say that.”

Hewitt agreed: “We’re moving to the next step. It feels scary to say I’ll no longer send sexy pics to all the men I’m keeping on the bench before disappearing without explanation, but it feels right.

“I’m actually looking forward to lying in bed, going through all the profiles of those we’ve wordlessly abandoned and laughing at their pathetic attempts to renew contact. Every new couple does it these days.”

She added: “I can honestly say I don’t want to ghost anyone else except for my Jack. And that moment will be so special.”

Sophie Rodriguez values herself too much to give sex away cheaply so, after an initial night with Josh Gardner, has subsequently pretended they are in a relationship to justify it.

She said: “I’m too classy to shag and then get dumped so I’ve been dragging Josh around for almost three financial quarters while trying to convince myself I like him.

“It’s much better to realise someone isn’t right for you after a wasted winter over-analysing their texts, rather than the next morning when still unsure what his name is.

“Why let yourself be used when you can embark on long-term psychological combat involving mixed signals, cancelled plans and occasional intimacy every third Friday? Slowly draining one man’s will to live to show I’m not a slag.

“One-night stands objectify women. This hasn’t. Therefore it’s better, even if I am dumping him on Sunday because of incompatibility issues and him being shit in bed.”

Gardner said: “No, I get it, it’s like when you get a free trial for Apple TV, forget to cancel and watch three seasons of Foundation to get your money’s worth it even though it’s bollocks.”

‘Oh no’

Triggered by the slide down the body with a smug look of satisfaction showing what a generous feminist he thinks he is, and that he knows you’re expected to reciprocate. He’s even thinking he’ll sound like a great guy when you tell the girls at brunch. What a truly unselfish act.

‘That ceiling needs repainting’

He’s doing his thing and despite participating in a sexual act you are entirely disconnected and may as well be watching telly in a different room. You look at the ceiling where several damp spots are forming and you suspect the whole area could do with some sprucing up. Sadly he’s thinking the same thing where he is.

‘Is he okay?’

What’s he thinking about? Can he breathe? Does it not taste too too bad? How does it smell? Should I ask? Are we allowed to talk? Am I allowed to whisper or pass a note if I want to communicate with him? What are the rules? Christ, it’s quiet in here.

‘Is that the right place?’

For all his persistence, he’s not really working on the right area and you can only redirect him by squirming awkwardly around the bed, which just makes him adjust position too, back to the wrong bit. You feel like you’re on The Crystal Maze, instructing a contestant in another room ‘left a bit… no, right’. Now you’re thinking about Richard O’Brien’s remarkably bald head and that’s not helping you climax.

‘Should I be making more noise?’

Wondering whether you need to sound more enthused, you look down. Unfortunately he looks up, causing you to immediately look away like when you accidentally lock eyes with a stranger on the bus. Him attempting to see your reaction is making this even more stressful. Can you throw a blanket over him?

‘How can I break this off?’

It’s taking too long, much too long. At first it seemed to be a warm-up for the main event, but no, he’s actually aiming for the big O, the ambitious, crazy bastard. He’ll never get there. You either have to fake it or say ‘That was lovely, dear’ like a mother praising a child who insisted on singing a song. Either that or: ‘You did your best and that’s what counts.’

‘Is that a wart growing on my hand?’

You’ve given up on this torment and are instead looking at the back of your hand for something to do. You can’t really look at your phone after he moved the duvet off his head. Is that a wrinkle? Are you getting a wart? Maybe you should see the doctor. If you distract yourself, maybe the orgasm will sneak up on you when you’re not looking.

‘How long’s it been?’

You can’t sneak a peek at your watch, much as you yearn to. Worse, you suspect it’s only been three or four minutes. Time slows down here, like in the dentist’s chair. But like being checked for bleeding gums, at least it only happens twice a year.

YOU can never know what darkness lies in a male heart, not really. You can think you’ve got the full measure of it, then two years in he comes home with football stickers. 

Let me explain. It was the summer of 2024 when I began dating Stephen. Significantly, it was August. He seemed like a lovely guy with only one ex I considered a threat and had to slag off mercilessly at every opportunity. 

Yes, he was a Bournemouth fan but that’s quite cute, isn’t it? Gives him a little hobby and one without any women involved, so it’s safe. He mentioned he’d been into the Euros but we all were, England were in the final. I even watched it. 

There were no red flags. I had no idea those nondescript spines on his shelves were anything other than bought-but-unplayed vinyl like any normal millennial man. I let him in to my heart, my life, and earlier this year we moved in together. 

Then it happened. He came home and without even asking how my day had been, sat down at the table with some sort of… magazine. But a blank one. And a pile of foil-wrapped packets. Did he have an illicit narcotic addiction? No. Far worse. 

‘What are those?’ I asked, my heart pounding. ‘Football stickers, babe,’ he replied, as if I was just meant to accept it. ‘The new Panini album. For the World Cup!’ 

‘Like… like schoolchildren swap, in the playground?’ I asked, my world crumbling around me. ‘Yeah!’ he said. ‘I always collect them all and stick them all in!’ And at that moment, I realised I had been tricked. I was in a two-year relationship not with a man, but a boy. 

It’s too late for me. We’re cohabiting and trying for a mortgage. I’m chained to an overgrown child for life. But ladies, watch him this summer and if he even eyes those stickers covetously at the till end it before it’s too late. 

Jo Kramer, aged 33, has so far branded a barista, a pharmacist, a Evri courier and the 87-year-old he talked to in a Post Office queue as her spouse’s girlfriend and, when irritated, as ‘your bloody tart’.

Husband Chris said: “A female chiropodist dealt with my bunions. Jo said ‘Give your bird a good seeing-to, did you?’ which I feel mischaracterised our relationship.

“Then at Waitrose I said ‘you too’ when the assistant wished us a good day, after which Jo asked why I didn’t go and marry her. It felt unchivalrous to point out she has a growth on her face and was wearing a hairnet.

“The work situation isn’t easy. Last week Jo asked if I was ‘off to see my work wife’ because a woman in accounts I’ve never met had emailed me a spreadsheet. And noted it was ‘interesting’ I got a haircut immediately afterwards.

“I tried returning fire by calling her pilates instructor ‘your boyfriend’. But she just mumbled something about him actually paying attention to her body and I didn’t push it.”

Couples counsellor Dr Helen Archer said: “The sarcastic use of ‘your girlfriend’ is rarely a sign of suspicion and more commonly a ritualised domestic sport, much enjoyed by couples who have run out of shows to watch together.

“However, it is weird that Jo said it when the family cat climbed on Tom’s lap.”

For decades pubs were a valuable refuge for the married and miserable, but modern men no longer feel that evenings at home with their life partner are a fate to be avoided at all costs.

Publican Stephen Malley says: “People think that it’s high staff wages that’s closing pubs. Couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s bloody women’s fault, as usual.”

“When I took over The Horse and Cart thirty years ago, we were packed every weekday night. Men would clock off work and come straight in to moan about their wives who as far as I could tell they barely saw but loathed immensely.

“Now, even our regulars only pop in for one before saying they want to go home and see the missus. ‘Want to’, mind, not ‘have to’.

“The wives of old – the angry harridans brandishing a rolling pin – are gone. Now men see their wives as a person they like being with, watching telly with and talking to. Women have upped their game and it’s devastating the traditional British pub.”

Malley will retire after four decades as a landlord next month and his pub will close. He said: “Funnily enough, I remarried recently and I’d like to spend a bit more time with the wife myself. I’m a hypocrite, but I prefer her to some random pissed blokes.”

Try not to be constantly amazed by your good fortune

Tough for me, as I resemble a surprised Fraggle, but lessen the power imbalance in your relationship by playing it cool. It’s just practice. These days when I wake up next to Alexis I hardly ever shout, ‘WOOO-HOO! I scored a TEN!’

Try to impress them

Chances are you don’t have access to an FBI jet, having not put in the necessary groundwork of being a crazed right-wing podcaster, but there are always fashionable restaurants, luxury holidays, $30,000 necklaces. It’s stressful knowing you could be dumped tomorrow, but luckily my girlfriend is dumb so hopefully won’t realise.

Maintain a light-poor environment

Everyone looks better under dimmed lighting, but obviously I have to go further. I’ve removed all the bulbs for security reasons and allow us only a single candle. It’s kept my relationship healthy but my shins are f**ked.

Keep her away from attractive men

Getting armed FBI agents to ‘protect’ Alexis whenever she’s out with friends is a good way to ward off rival penises. But it’s just as easy to schedule nights in doing activities suitable for two people. How can she be tempted by other men when she’s learning the rules and lore of Warhammer? She can’t.

Screen attractiveness gap movies

Films are the uggo’s friend, with countless stories about seeing beyond mere appearances: Beauty and the Beast, Shrek, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Roxanne. She is beginning to wonder why we’ve seen The Shape of Water 15 times but I want to keep the psychological pressure on. Shame she can’t go blind, like in Mask.

Be rich and famous

Sadly wealth and fame, even my unearned kind, are the key way for runts like me to hang onto a beauty. Will Alexis still love me when Donald throws me under the bus for not miraculously making the Epstein Files disappear? No. No, she won’t. Still, at least I can retreat into the comfort of alcoholism full-time.

Rose and Jack, Titanic (1997)

Rose would’ve banged anyone on that boat. But if she hadn’t hogged the door, New York would have been a rude awakening. He’d get nothing fencing the jewel, she’s got no skills other than ballet, they’d be living in a slum tenement in Hell’s Kitchen while he sold sketches door-to-door. Note how she married into wealth after Jack. He was a fling.

Sam and Annie, Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

You know who gets obsessed with a man after hearing him on the radio once, travelling to his home city and watching his house? A stalker. They have a perfect night together and the next morning she matter-of-factly mentions the messages Mossad sends her through her fillings. Turns out she’s known to the authorities. Too late for Sam.

Kathleen and Joe, You’ve Got Mail, (1998) 

Another Hanks-Ryan pairing but this time he’s the sociopath. He discovers she’s who he’s been corresponding with, destroys the business she inherited from her beloved mother, puts her out of work, then aggressively moves in on her life. It’s a bad relationship with a happy ending when she kills him with a pair of scissors.

Danny and Sandy, Grease, 1978

Learning that if you become a hot, smoking slut you’ll become socially acceptable to a man is a poor basis for love. Also cars can’t fly. And however happy they were aged 18, eventually Sandy would demand to move back to Brisbane because no Australian girl can resist the siren call of sun-baked suburban boredom.

Carrie and Charles, Four Weddings and a Funeral (1994)

They’ve only met six times, including her wedding, his wedding and a funeral. She cheated on her elderly fiancé and ditched Charles after every shag which suggests repeated disappointments. Sooner or later he’ll realise Kristin Scott Thomas is that special posh kind of dirty.

Lloyd and Diane, Say Anything… (1989)

Standing outside a woman’s bedroom blasting the song that played while you f**ked is usually the basis of a court case, not a lasting relationship. By the end Lloyd is accompanying studious Diane to England. Theirs is a future of resentment, drizzle and sharing Tesco meals for two in student accommodation. Nothing survives that.

Rachel Weisz

A timeless beauty, the fact she’s in her 50s and graduated from Cambridge suggests you’re a sapiosexual attracted to intellect. Admittedly intellect prepackaged in a hot lady. You definitely would mention the Oscar for whatever it was, wouldn’t mention the lesbian scenes in Disobedience, and wouldn’t have any chance because Daniel Craig.

Carey Mulligan

Softly spoken, clever and an all around nice girl. So middle class that she married a Mumford, the human equivalent of Farrow & Ball Elephant’s Breath. Your wife nods at approvingly because it says ‘I value understated elegance’, not ‘I have a secret Instagram which follows large-bosomed Brazilian models’. She knows about that, by the way.

Adele

That you find Adele attractive – and have throughout, even in the pre-Ozempic days – shows you are a sensitive man who listens to women, who sees them for their authentic selves, who cares about who they are inside. Your crush is sanctioned because it shows she chose the right man. Your actual fantasies about Adele remain wisely unspoken.

Keira Knightley

Period dramas, sharp cheekbones and a permanent association with literary adaptations. You’d do Keira nightly. You frame this as loving ‘that classical English rose look’. You particularly enjoy learning more about psychoanalysis through studying A Dangerous Method. Yes, that is the one where she’s spanked.

Pamela Anderson

Not in her 90s heyday, when it would have made you boorish, and certainly not because you have multiple sex tapes of her with tattooed hair metal stars saved in a password-protected folder on a networked hard drive. No, it’s because she seems nice and is now a feminist hero thanks to her no make-up rule. Never mind all those Playboy shoots.

Thandiwe Newton

Stylish, articulate and thoughtful in interviews, like the Graham Norton one about her being pro-pubic hair. This is a high credit crush, signalling taste. She’d adore you back if ever she happened to visit Nuneaton. For some reason, your wife seems confident neither of those things will ever happen.

It keeps women safe

Controlling women isn’t a sad little power trip for insecure men, it’s about their safety. If you don’t ban them from actually highly-regulated activities like skydiving, before you know it they’ll be bullfighting or playing Russian roulette. Because ‘slippery slope’ arguments are always correct.

They have more free time 

By saying ‘Wear that dress’ or ‘Those heels make you look like a whore’ you’re saving women the trouble of making decisions, leaving them free to pursue other interests. Such as ensuring your home is spotless and doing large amounts of unnecessary baking, in a traditional way that fits in with my particular brand of conservative Catholicism but isn’t actually in The Bible.

Women cannot be trusted to go out

When Usha goes out, I do the responsible thing and ask: ‘Who are you meeting? Are any of them men? Are you planning to have sex with them?’ She can be quite disrespectful in her replies, but it’s the only way to ensure she won’t end up writhing in adulterous pleasure with some well-hung young stud every time she leaves the house. 

You sound like a big man 

Male friends are deeply impressed when, apropos of nothing, you announce you won’t let your wife buy anything without your permission, or similar. Are any of them secretly thinking ‘Jeez, what a pathetic asshole’? Unlikely. I’ll check if I ever have any friends.

It’s only feminism that makes them want free will

I’ve spoken out before about the sexual revolution, and to this day feminism is brainwashing women into thinking they don’t want to be stay-at-home baby factories. I’m not saying they shouldn’t make any decisions at all – as I’ve said to Usha, ‘You are free to breastfeed and change nappies without consulting me’. Respect is a two-way street.

Women are basically children

Like children gorging on sweets, women do things they don’t realise are bad for them. That’s why we’ve agreed Usha shouldn’t use the internet unsupervised. It’s nothing to do with the very real possibility that if she keeps seeing those fat boy memes of me, eventually she’ll think: ‘Shit! Why haven’t I divorced this petulant little dick?’

Nikki Hollis, aged 28, ended her relationship with Nathan Muir because he was insensitive, emotionally stunted, preferred hanging out with his mates to her and was lazy, then proceeded to outline those same qualities as what she is looking for.

She said: “I like a man’s man, not some emotional melt who clings to me like a limpet and embarrasses me in public.

“I can’t stand all that ‘and how are you feeling?’ and asking if it’s my time of the month like he’s my therapist. My next boyfriend will give me my space, and he’ll have his own friends for football or whatever so I can have nights with my girls.

“I want someone laid-back who doesn’t mind lazy weekends binging telly with me, rather than these active types always pushing to go on hikes or shit like the theatre. And yeah Nathan cheated, but a man who other women aren’t chasing is ugly. Not into that.

“Yes, all of that could describe Nathan. But what I want is that, but different.”

Friend Emma Bradford said: “Nikki lurches from one crap boyfriend to another like the Conservative Party chooses new leaders. She never learns.

“At least I don’t have to feel guilty any more for shagging Nathan behind her back. Did I mention he’s got a willy like a conger eel?”

Show stamina

Ladies love two things – commitment and six-hour tantric sex sessions. Show her you stay the distance like Sting by maintaining fixed, prolonged eye contact. It’s sending a message that you can engage in unpleasant tasks like cunnilingus or marriage for long periods and will not blink in the face of fear or dry eyes. Watch her swoon!

Ignore everything she says

Unused to the new love soaring in her heart, afraid of being overwhelmed with euphoria, she may push it away with cruel words. Remarks like ‘Is that man staring at me?’ or ‘Why is his face twitching like that?’ or ‘Can we move tables?’ are only to test your devotion. Do not allow your eyes to flicker while she falls beneath their spell.

Never speak

Whenever you speak to women, you say the wrong thing. Apparently. They say so, anyway. So best to remain silent, mysterious and intense as if you were in a Bond film or a Netflix true crime documentary. Women love bad boys, like Heathcliff or a 46-year-old single man holding a carrier bag of his possessions at the bus stop.

And never smile

If you smile and she doesn’t return it? That’s awkward. Because then you can’t stop smiling and have to maintain a rictus grin and you begin to resemble the Joker, and not in a sexy way. Maintain an impassive expression open to interpretation. It will make her wonder what deep and meaningful thoughts you are having. She’ll soon just have to ask.

Move your stare with her

Show her that you would make such a dedicated partner that you go wherever she leads, like a tango. But only at a discreet distance of 30 feet or so, acting like it was where you were going anyway. If she phones a boyfriend who then holds you up against a wall, that is a sign that perhaps she’s not ready for the depth of your mutual passion. For now.

Due to the unhinged behaviour of his ex-girlfriends, Tom Booker has realised that he cannot describe his former partners without coming across as a misogynistic devotee of the manosphere.

Booker said: “Every bloke secretly thinks his exes are at least a little bit mental. In fact it’s probably what attracted us to them in the first place.

“But mine have keyed my car, set fire to my wardrobe, and chased me with an axe for no reason at all. And yet if I sum up their behaviour as ‘crazy’ then suddenly the person I’m talking to thinks I’m the bad guy.

“What else should I say? That they had a flair for pyrotechnics and weren’t afraid to express their emotions? I feel like I’d be gaslighting myself into overlooking their loony tunes behaviour.

“On the other hand, if I were to lie and say they were great people and we’re still friends then I’d be accused of being hung up on them. I’m f**ked either way.”

Nikki Hollis, who Booker is currently dating, said: “What I’m hearing is that Tom has a habit of letting nutjobs into his life, which is a massive red flag. Sounds like those other women dodged a bullet.”

Sex outside Britain is excluded

We all do silly stuff on holiday, like getting sunburnt. A five-man gangbang in your Torremolinos rental villa is no different. And, in the same way, so long as you get rid of all the embarrassing pics and apply ointment to the affected areas, it basically never happened.

Uni also doesn’t count

You were a different person. A feral, VK-fuelled student who believed in Marxism and made poor decisions in dimly-lit kitchens. In fact, you were just shagging the many not the few, in keeping with your collectivist principles. Nobody expects any continuity between that person and the one now discussing air fryers and back pain.

Work it out by month

Like paying rent, if you calculate the overall sum it sounds a lot higher than when you work it out monthly. Then it’s only a couple a month, or a week, and you can conveniently forget that week-long holiday where you may as well not have had your own hotel room.

If you can’t recall their surname, they’re not on the list

This is purely admin. If there’s no realistic way of identifying them on LinkedIn, it’s unfair to expect you to log it as a meaningful entry in your life. Imagine how humiliating it would be for you – and them – to say ‘Tom 4’ or ‘Hayley 3’. You’re trying to save them pain, whatever they’re called and wherever they are.

Anything before smartphones is unverifiable

Sex that occurred when you had to actually call someone on your Nokia 3410 basically occurred in the Dark Ages. It’d be like discussing Henry VIII’s romping. There are no photos, no messages, no ill-advised late-night texts to revisit. AKA, no proof.

Friends are off-limits

Telling a partner that you rode someone you still know isn’t going to help them get along. You’re conveniently – and selflessly – forgetting that incident at Middlesbrough station to ensure strong group stability and let your other half slip seamlessly into the gang. Until you break up and have to go through all this again with someone else. Still, that’s the price you pay for being so considerate of other people’s feelings and such a moral person.

28-year-old Charlotte Phelps is trying to work up the nerve to tell 30-year-old Oliver O’Connor that she has had relationships with women in the past and has explicit fantasies about them which she is prepared to relate at length.

Phelps said: “Always tricky coming out. What if he over-analyses it? I’ve told boyfriends before and they’ve been unable to stop thinking about it. Some couldn’t sleep afterwards.

“I like him so much that I don’t want him worrying that at any moment I might pull him into a threesome. I need to reassure him I’m focused on him and won’t drunkenly snog a hot slut on a night out, though that has happened a few times.

“There are a lot of misunderstandings about bisexuality I’m happy to clear up. I could talk him through my past experiences, I guess I’ve got some photos with exes he could see if he feels up to it, though he might get jealous of us being in bikinis in the Maldives.

“But I have to be honest. I just hope he isn’t so alienated by it that he doesn’t want to have sex with me. I could give him a blowjob straight after, I guess. If he’s able to get hard.”

O’Connor said: “It was totally weird. She built up to it for ages and then said she likes women. Being a feminist isn’t that big a deal, surely.”

The couple agreed their desire not to f**k other people is so powerful it necessitated a three-night hotel stay with meals and expensive activities for friends and relatives to resentfully endure.

Bride Eleanor Shaw said: “We really wanted to make it an occasion. That’s why there were hen and stag dinners yesterday, a marquee party today, the actual wedding tomorrow and the pagan ceremony on Monday so no sneaking off early.

“That way, people who will never see each other again really get chance to bond, cementing how amazing our partnership is. Why wouldn’t the best man’s plus one want to really get to know my Auntie Sara?

“Four whole days to stretch out and luxuriate in our wedded bliss. What could be a better, more memorable way to spend four days off work? Beats the usual lie-in, afternoon drinking and a wank any day.”

Friend Joshua Hudson said: “I worked with a man and we got on well. For that crime I am sentenced to this. It’s the price of a mini-break in Valetta, but for fully three Premier Inn continental breakfasts in a row.

“You really forget how much fun it is to sit with the same couple you hated on the Friday right through until the Sunday, in various stages of hungover while yearning to be at home trimming a hedge.”

Nathan Muir consulted Nikki Hollis’ grey tabby cat Mr Wiggles because he felt he could not go against the wishes of such an important authority figure in her life. 

Muir said: ‘Nikki looks up to Mr Wiggles in a weird paternalistic way. She asks him questions and takes any meow as an affirmation or rejection.

“The cat rules her life to the extent that Nikki consults him on everything from politics to savings plans. She asked him if I should be clean-shaven instead of sporting a beard. Mr Wiggles appeared to meow in favour of the first, so now my face is naked and cold. 

“But I totally understand why she wanted me to do the traditional thing of asking the cat for her hand in marriage. When the time came I was quite nervous, and I had to wait for Mr Wiggles to wake from one of his many naps and give his balls a good lick. 

“I’d bought him a catnip-infused cloth mouse, but Nikki said that was going too far. Mr Wiggles might think I was creeping and lose respect.”

Hollis said: “Unfortunately Mr Wiggles had doubts about Nathan marrying me and living with us, and when Nathan asked him I was forced to interpret the answer as ‘no’.”

Tell your partner they misunderstood

When you asked if she was wet, what you meant was ‘due to the downpour we just had’. If you requested shower pics, you meant her in a charming mac caught in an April shower. Sadly you have now condemned yourself to receiving and commenting on ‘adorable’ pictures of her whenever she gets caught in the rain. Get ready with those ‘likes’.

Show concern

You only wanted to know what he was wearing to make sure it was climate-appropriate. The same with telling him he was ‘hot’. You just were trying to persuade him to wear a sun hat and cooling lightweight clothing. How could you worrying about heatstroke and dehydration be misconstrued as sexual? Shore up this gaslighting by asking if he’s ever been treated for sex addiction.

Blame the seasons and your allergies

Alright, you were a bit forward, but it’s the weather. The warmer temperatures have caused the flowers to bloom and release pollen and it’s made you delirious with hayfever. So let’s talk about that and not that dick pic you sent. Admitted this is the first case of hayfever to have the same effects as malaria, but you don’t have many options. Maybe you can convince her you accidentally dropped your phone down your trousers? No, that’s just as bad.

Turn your dirty talk into a weather report

For example: ‘After a warm front, things have turned rather chilly. There’s been a sharp drop in enthusiasm and earlier projections of heavy activity have now been downgraded to light drizzle at best. Conditions are tense but stable. Expect a long dry spell ahead.’ See, this is like a spoof weather report on a comedy show! Ha ha ha! Is he laughing? No, he’s thinking about dating someone less weird.

Never speak of what happened again

Like a sunny spell, your attempt at being sexy came and went and now you’re back to gloom and small talk. Both of you should bury this awkward memory and only talk about the weather from now on. It’s the British way.