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'86, a good year for bad sex

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One of the perks of dating or seeking solace in the embrace of a younger lover is the exciting thought of being attractive to a younger model. Then there is the eye-candy factor; toned body, perky boobs, firmer bums, tighter... But there is a price to pay for all the aesthetics and appealing attributes, and that is enduring the risk of having really bad sex. It’s not uncommon to hear the gripes from a more mature demographic, both male and female, who openly discuss their sexual encounters about post-1986’ers, and laying out their complaints and grievances about “the youth of today”. Lack of imagination, terrible sex, poor effort, too “porny”, low stamina - are just some of the complaints. The sense of millennial entitlement overlooks the natural essence by adopting the attitude of bragging rights, self-obsession, the illusion of being a good lover and where having good gag reflexes is celebrated as an achievement. 1986’ers? Those that are born post 1986, which in today
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The 'C' word

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Commitment, the stigma attached to this dreaded word which often gets circulated at the beginning of a relationship isn’t exactly getting easier with the emerging scourge of online dating apps. The bounty of desperate single people out there all looking to get laid or find the right one is also not helping the cause of being with the right person if the commitment isn’t at the forefront. The good news is, men aren’t the only assholes. Commitment issues are not entirely gender-specific as they were apparent before. Although men have generally been known to carry the blame of owning commitment issues, in all honesty, women are overtaking that statistic as they are becoming more empowered and more independent. The old practices of courtship no longer apply, encouraged by society and social norms by submerging ourselves into meaningless one-night stands, the pursuit of an emotionless “no-strings-attached” relationship and hoping to find fulfilment with another frivolous
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Location: London, UK
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My first "gay" experience

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Location: London, UK
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The night I spent with a prostitute, eating chicken wings

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Eating chicken wings with a prostitute, hardly a euphemism but an actual evening that occurred, in yet another unexpected random London night. Anyone familiar with what sights and sounds Kilburn High Road has to offer, especially after dark, will understand and possibly appreciate the circumstances and events that could unfold when hanging about long enough.  Besides the wall to wall vomit and the familiar vagrant shouting, "hey bruv, got any change?" It wasn't unusual for me to have another adventure, except this night may have been the most interesting. With a dead mobile phone, I stood at the bus stop at 12 am waiting for that damn bus, which now and then gets cancelled or rescheduled for no reason, and this night was no exception. It's famous for being the most unreliable route. As I stood waiting and being lied to by the automated bus schedule, another 15 minutes went by. A woman approached the bus stop, she stopped to look at the signboard
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Location: London, UK
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From corporate to barman, what I learnt

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It was December. And I was bored, fed-up and had absolutely nothing to do, as the world was about to shut down for the festive season. Out of frustration, I vented to a friend of mine who suggested that I should just work behind a bar for the holidays. She promised I would love it. Me? Behind a bar? I had never so much as poured a pint of beer, let alone served someone before. That would not work for me; but I mulled over it for a few days and thought, fuck it, why not? Ok, I lie, I was a "bartender" once when I was 18, for about 24 hours in a seedy little pub. Far from quaint, it did, however, come complete with the vomit-on-the-floor motif, the drunk pillock in the corner, creepy lampshades, a dirty dog with a limp and the convenient wall-to-wall ashtray. The owner, a crude little man, by the name of Don, decided to come in that day and fire everyone, including the managers, kitchen staff and of course, the bartenders, all for being "useless bastards". 
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Location: London, UK
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