RAF With GSOH. 36DD Preferred

One of the perks of writing a newspaper column (aside from the champagne swigging orgies that I imagine the real journalists enjoy) is that sometimes you can surreptitiously use the medium for your own devices.

Had I placed the following article in the appropriate personal ads section of the paper, I’d probably have paid about ten grand for the privilege. Instead, they’re paying me (considerably less than ten grand) and now I can just sit back and wait for the floods of applications to… eh… flood in. Probably.


For reasons too complicated to explain in this short space, I am, as of this week, living on my own for the first time in a long time. The up side of this, as a good friend pointed out recently, is that I can now run around the house naked to my heart’s content. (I didn’t admit that this type of behaviour was not entirely unheard of.) But the down side of course, includes a sharp rise in living expenses as well as an alarming increase in the number of times I end up talking to myself.

Neil: “So what do you fancy for dinner Neil?”

Neil: “I don’t care, just as long as you put on some clothes when you’re standing next to the cooker you freak.”

The financial implications are a concern though so last week I approached my boss to enquire about the possibility of a salary rise to aid my plight. When her hysterical laughter subsided long enough to reply she said, “Why don’t you just advertise for a lodger?”

At first, the thought of my remote control in the hands of some Strictly Come Dancing-loving maniac was too terrifying to contemplate. But I decided the idea had merit especially when I stumbled across that episode of ‘Friends’ where Joey manages to secure Elle MacPherson as a roommate.

So I’m now accepting applications to fill the vacant post of lodger. I do have some rules though so before you rush to your computers to email me your credentials, (along with a compulsory photograph) bear in mind the following.

Housework:
I’m generally quite tidy but if you feel the urge to clean the house weekly rather than monthly then be my guest. And if you have advanced scientific knowledge about how to work the Dyson vacuum thingy languishing in my kitchen cupboard, you’ll go straight to the top of my list.

Bathroom Etiquette:
I’m a great believer in the bathroom being a place for relaxation and reflection so I think a time limit of one hour should be enough to do everything you have to do. However, when emerging from the bathroom I never want to hear you utter the phrase “I’d give it a couple of minutes.”

Cooking:
I can’t claim to be any kind of Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen unless you use the last of the milk/butter/beer and don’t replace it. Then you’ll f#cking know all about it you selfish, f#cking so and so.

Music:
I have an antique “music centre” from the 1980s in the house complete with CD player AND a turntable, so by all means bring along your music collection and make good use of it. You can even listen to some of my CDs if you feel the urge but please remember to replace the box on the shelf in strict alphabetical order. If you’re someone who believes that The Beatles should be filed next to The Police, you need not apply.

Smoking:
I operate a strict no smoking policy within the house. This rule is subject to review if I happen to run out and I’m desperate enough to bum one off you.

Visitors:
I’m not averse to you inviting friends round to visit but let’s try and keep the numbers at a manageable level. If you’re Elle MacPherson and you simply have to use the house for you and all your gorgeous dancer friends to work out, then I suppose that would be okay.

All applications will be dealt with in strictest confidence unless your photo happens to be funny enough to publish in this column next week. And if you’re a fan of Strictly Come Dancing, make sure you possess your own TV.