Why are men with 0% body fat always 43% mad?
Albertas was out on a Saturday in Cardiff wearing a kilt and drinking white wine. I'd have talked to him for novelty value alone, but he was also rather well put-togther...
And completely bonkers. Perhaps we could ban pretty men from speaking? There's that terrible thing where you're thinking "I know you'd have to be mad to sleep with me, but couldn't you be just a little crazy?"
He was a Spanish-Russian make-up artist who "loved to do the dead in Casualty", made a hobby out of buying expensive bottles of Cognac and not drinking them, and lived in a luxury apartment in the City Centre. Which turned out to be a small front room in Roath. No, I still have no idea where that is, either. But there was a futon.
In the morning he popped out to make coffee, bumped into his flatmate (a brassy lady with a pink nightie and split ends) who got terribly excited and insisted on popping her head round the door to "Just have a look at the shag. Hello luv - he really likes you you know, and misses his boyfriend terribly...."
His most disturbing habit: Yelling out "oh shit!" during sex. However you think about it, it's not reassuring.