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The pros and cons and but the pros though of putting out on a first date

YOU’RE on a first date. Improbably, it’s going well. Even more improbably, you fancy him, but should you carry that through to full penetrative sex? 

Pro: It’s time-efficient

He could be shit in bed. Whether a premature ejaculator, a without-asking choker or demanding he be called Daddy, it could be shit. And if you go tonight you won’t waste time and hope on a string of dates, potentially falling for a man who doesn’t know or care what a clit is.

Pro: You don’t know him yet

It can be so refreshing, especially coming out of a long-term relationship, to fuck someone you don’t already hate. No knowing he voted UKIP in 2015 or acquaintance with his athlete’s foot to get in the way. You can climax in total ignorance of what a cow his mother is.

Pro: You can be lazy

He’ll be so delighted that you’re fucking he’ll put in the work. Oral, erogenous zones, the lot. Meanwhile you can perform at minimum-wage levels of effort. No licking his balls or sending down a single exploratory finger. You’ll never see him and don’t care about feedback. That’s what ghosting’s for.

Con: You haven’t tidied

If you’d known you were going to have spontaneous sex you’d have run the Hoover round. Your sheets are celebrating their eighth month of continuous service and there’s a Bagpuss hot water bottle on the bed. Also, how is it ‘down there’? Do you want a near-stranger poking round the flat while you shower?

Con: Red flags might get overlooked

Good sex could leave you blinded by lust and waving past minor issues like calling his nanny daily, boasting about his Tesla and his social life as a vicious online troll. You couldn’t keep your legs shut and now you’re in a relationship with a twat.

Cons: He could judge you for it

As a woman, you’re meant to guard the sacred treasure of your pussy with your life. Let him have a go on the first night and he’ll think you’re easy and never call you again. But if you don’t, you won’t have had a shag and he still might never call you again.

Cons: You could get an STI

It’s all very well being impulsive and wild if it’s sex so good you’ll frig yourself to the memory for years to come. But catching herpes from a lousy lay will stay with you through the years in an altogether less satisfying way.

But Pro though: You’re drunk

Why even bother getting drunk if not to make bad decisions? You may as well do something with your intoxication besides going home and eating a loaf of bread on your own in the dark. Look at you, living a little! Puking in someone else’s loo!

But Pro though: You get to have sex

The pro to beat all cons. How can any counter argument stand up against the fact that you get to ride a hard dick for a night, just when you’re in the mood? And if you don’t go for it right away, another chance might not come along. Carpe penis, as Robin Williams would say.

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A confused Millennial tries to… actually play his vinyl collection

by Josh Gardner, who doesn’t have to revise for exams because an AI will do it for him

AS a serious music lover, streaming isn’t enough for me. I actually collect physical music on vinyl. Yeah. I know. Impressive. 

I’ve already got rare vinyls of cult older acts like Saxon, Timbuk 3 and Sir Mix-A-Lot. Stuff only us music connoisseurs have heard of. Seriously seminal bands.

And vinyl has a vibe to it you don’t get with downloads. It’s hard to describe, but I think it’s the way you can arrange them on a shelf and look as if you know loads about music. It’s authentic.

Even Dad was impressed. But then he said: ‘So are you going to play one of them? What about that Pantera album? Aren’t they heavy metal?’

‘You’re not meant to play them,’ I said. ‘You’d need a massive CD player.’

‘What d’you think they’re for then?’ he said. To be honest I’m not sure. I sort of assumed they were some sort of pre-digital NFT.

‘You’re in luck, my precious child,’ said Dad. ‘We’ve got that old Sony music centre in the loft.’ Then he made me help as he passed down a load of old electrical equipment. The ‘graphic equaliser’ confused me because it hadn’t got a screen. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Dad. ‘That’s just for hi-fi twats.’

All set up, it was a black tower of ancient, forbidden technology. It had no remote. It had no app. Apparently it made music by physically lowering a flimsy little spindle arm onto a spinning disc, translating the patterns into noise. It’s like something from The Da Vinci Code. 

When the music came out it sounded the same as Spotify, but with a hissing, crackling noise, which I presume is because it’s travelling so far from the past.

I asked Dad how you set it to shuffle. ‘You can’t,’ he said. I asked how you skip a track. ‘You can’t,’ he said. I asked how you make a playlist. Guess what.

You can only change tracks by lifting the diamond-tipped needle and putting it back in exactly the right place. The two sides of the record actually have different music on. It’s an absolute faff.

And there were plenty of shit songs. My records had two, maybe three, good tracks, then loads of boring ones. And some of them were shit all the way through, despite being valuable antiques. The bloke in the record shop said Daphne and Celeste were his favourite band.

It’s also a massive chore putting the records back in one paper sleeve then a cardboard one, so I didn’t bother. Turns out they get all dusty and scratched to fuck when you don’t, and then sound even worse.

I love vinyl, and it absolutely is my new hobby and passion, but I wish they’d make it out of something else.

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