So, I finally bagged myself a man - a lovely bloke called Anthony that I met a couple of weeks ago in the local supermarket in Stockwell, of all places. Our eyes met over the frozen veg (peas, to be exact) and he asked me out on a date. If you squint he sort of resembles a slightly retarded Brad Pitt, which can't be bad, eh?

I see him almost every day - going to the pub after work, or hanging out at my house (I'm giving him quite an education, I can tell you) but I can't seem to stop looking at other men.

I always thought I wanted to be in a relationship, but I miss the freedom of my single life already. Also, the more sex I have, the more I want it - with other people. Lots of people.

I went to the new Shoreditch House last weekend and spotted this really fit Brazilian adonis working behind the bar on the pool floor. I had to restrain myself. I was on the verge of hurling myself over the counter. Yowza.

And last night, walking up Broadway Market on the way to Cat & Mutton pub, I almost spontaneously combusted there was so much hip young totty out and about. I think I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not the relationship type. Or you know what? Perhaps it's just that this Anthony bloke's just not the man for me. Right, see you later - I'm off to bag myself a Brazilian.