By confirmed bachelor Norman Steele

TAKE it from me, a man who hasn’t got laid this millennium, it’s scientifically impossible for men and women to have platonic friendships and not have sex.

Younger generations with their progressive values might try to argue otherwise, but in my view if men and women exchange so much as courteous pleasantries then they’ve booked themselves a one-way ticket to Shagtown.

Take my last girlfriend. She mentioned this fella she knew at work. I knew what was up and angrily accused her of knocking boots with him. She denied it. I kicked her out of the house. Next thing you know, she’s living with him. Point proved.

Or there was this woman I met at the leisure centre. Bit of chit-chat, the weather, that kind of thing, I could see where this was going, wasn’t getting stuck in the friend zone, invited her to mine for sex. She said no, we haven’t spoken since. What would be the point?

And I barely knew the last woman I made the beast with two backs with. All I did was say hello to her on a street corner as I furtively pressed some tenners into her hand and we were away. Because male-female friendship is a myth.

I haven’t had any female friends for years. Women know to keep a distance from my raw animal magnetism. They know if they come to close to the Steel Machine, they’re getting hit on.

So take it from me, there’s no such thing as inter-gender friendship. If a man so much as talks to a woman, they’re doing it. Backstreet Boys were number one last time I did it. I really miss it.

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