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A few years back, I wrote on the difficulties of meeting guy friends, when you're a straight male.  At 30 + years old, it's very tricky to meet new friends of the same sex.  You can't walk up to someone at the gym and ask how much he 'benches'...so how do guys meet other guys? 

That question was answered for me about 3 years ago when I was moving in to an apartment with my (then) wife. Life was great, the future was wide open, and we had everything we could have ever dreamed for; she left me 2 months later.  It was during that time that my life really took a turn for the worse.  Moved in to the adjacent unit was a guy from Great Britain (oxymoron).  He was sent over here on a 2 year VISA (so much for proper immigration control) to work for some accounting firm. Short, bald and above all, he liked some low-level 'football' club, "The Crystal Palace Eagles".  Tough sounding aren't they. 

But seriously...no wait, hang on...everything I said is true...except the part for my life taking a turn for the worse.  We became really good friends.  Going to the pub every weekend, boozing, smoking, and whoring it up.  And the 'whoring' part is where it all gets interesting...for such an oddity of a human being; this guy pulled any girl he wanted.

Now of course it has everything to do with his accent and nothing at all to do with his wit or clever conversation, but still, what a great wingman.  He picked up where my 'game' started to fail (see above, 'clever conversation').  He taught me that even when you are sitting naked with 2 hot chicks playing strip poker, that it is still polite to ask if they'd rather a Cabernet or something 'more fruity'.  Yes, you read correctly.  English manners transcend even during times of total non-necessity.  2 chicks, 2AM, both naked and he still uncorks a bottle of wine.  Whereas myself, I’d have used a funnel, a jackknife and some flat beer…and probably some masking tape while we’re at it…

He taught me a lot.  Spreadsheets, Year end returns, audits…  He also taught me that short bald men need love too. 

But seriously, he’s a cunt and now maybe some hot chick can finally move in.  (He also taught me the word ‘cunt’ for which my mother is forever grateful). 

You’re the best No Mates, thanx for everything; now phuck off. 

By the way, did customs ever find that package I put in your bag, or the little boy’s shoe with blood in it?

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