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Turning 50 gives a woman pause for thought and I can only cruise on my genes for so long before father time starts nipping at my heels. It seemed like a good opportunity to reflect on and an appropriate time to mark this milestone with a discussion about the events that occurred whenever bumping uglies or SEX might be a distinct possibility or not as the case may be. These special moments are never a guarantee you understand, and there is never a really clear distinction even suggesting that you and your

intended are humming from the same hymn sheet, what with men being from Mars and women being from Venus. I do, however, in my favour have a long index finger which apparently, gives me a very useful masculine take on things that all but eliminates my natural instinct to exhibit fluffy, which I don’t do.

Sometimes the sexual chemistry in a room is impossible to ignore, and at other  times the elephant is best escorted out and nothing more said. If you are not a natural ladies’ man and don’t possess the ability to flirt successfully, then don’t. Practice first then seek advice from someone older and wiser than you and not the idiot you walked through the door with. Anything less will ruin your street cred and shoot your confidence down in flames and that helps no one, certainly not any young filly or burgeoning and keen female company you might miss out on. Never fall for the inane or cocky its rarely clever or funny unless its clever and funny. Alcohol reduces your ability to tell the difference so be warned.

I won’t cover all of those urban disasters, but I will focus on the usual suspects, some of which I am sure will strike a chord with many of you, and some that have been earmarked because they are memorable for all the wrong reasons. These will be referred to as my sexual misadventures.