Best thing about Sunday: Barely back in the flat before being summoned for nookie by a Swedish man using only the imperative tense.
Worst thing about Sunday: Bizarrely ending up in a gentleman's steamnasium. I know Lee claims I'm in them so often I'm growing mould, but this really isn't true. It just happens. And this time it was dull.
So boring, I invented a brand new game - Saunalikes, where you see if you can find desperate strangers in a towel who look a bit like famous people. Naturally, I played the Doctor Who version, and scored a high strike rate for William Hartnells and Colin Bakers. Would be interested to know if anyone else plays this.
The only highlight was the truly bizarre porn playing throughout. In a bizarre crossover with my CSI obssession, one film was about a forensic scientist and (shock twist) a corpse (euw).
But the main feature was a porn retelling of Anthony and Cleopatra filmed in the living room of a Moneyed Mary of a certain age. All sofas, scatter cushions and classical statuary. So, more Richard And Judas, really.
Anyway, Cleopatra was played by a real lady (but - phew - no girl action). And Marc Anthony was played by, uh, Marc Anthony. This would appear to be the real porn name of a man with a lot of muscles, a transatlantic accent and no acting ability. He was, however, truly the biggest Roman of them all.
While age could not stale, nor custom wither, the infinite variety of toga'd totty he mumbled his way through, the highlight was... the Egyptian Mummy orgy.
I turned to the bloke next to me, who was also roaring with laughter.
"Whose idea was this?" he yelled, as lots of men in bandages tried to copulate without falling over.
Within minutes the set resembled an Andrex ad gone wrong, as writhing Romans grappled with tattered mummies whose costumes had dissolved to little more than surgical stockings and snoods. But still, gamely, pretending to be having Seriously, Sexy Fun. "Oh yeah Osiris," sighed Marc Anthony in a grim attempt at bliss.
Remember the childhood joy when an episode of Blue Peter went really, really wrong? Well, it was like that. Only with shagging.
It all ended when Cleopatra got bit in the asp, and Marc Anthony had a wibbly wobbly flashback to a time when something similar sounding happened to him.
"This," the man next to me giggled, "is not the weirdest porn i've seen. That honour goes to something like The Tightest Little Butthole In Texas where three guys from the South shag apple pie... and then, at the end, they eat the pie. Moaning, 'oh yeah, great pie.'"
"Yeah, carbs, I know."