Oh, what an ignorant buffoon I have been. No messing around, readers – this latest "pocket bible" was not meant for me. I am drawn to it for much the same reason that men secretly own Sex and the City: complete bewilderment at the opposite sex. Needless to say, I stumble quickly in chapter one. Circumcision, lower left testicles, high balls. Good heavens, what a minefield. So resilient to the
last I recruit a tour guide: my own in-house über-masculine metrosexual. He seems pleased with this arrangement, and eagerly takes command.
Chapter two, "Drinking and Smoking", opens with a quotation from George Best: "I spent 90 per cent of my money on women, drink and fast cars. The rest I wasted." While driving, my Man's Man starts slamming the dashboard amid alarming belly laughter. He is literally convulsing with admiration.
He elaborates: "ultimate male resolution for 2006 – have a pint with Charlie Kennedy!"
Thomas Fink, the theoretical physicist pouting smugly from the inner jacket, is displeased by this marginalisation of masculinity. He wants gentlemen everywhere to stand up and take note. Ladies should be aware that it makes for an illuminating afternoon when they do.
