The weird dream you keep having about chainsaws.

Your unfeasibly small testicles.

A pair of PVC undercrackers you found down the back of the sofa that don’t belong to you, but you thought you’d try on anyway just to see what they’d feel like…

All these topics of conversation are best avoided on a first date – or indeed a gazillionth date – and that’s the simple advice I would give to anyone.

I do, however, adore hearing all the ridiculous tales of stooopid things that tumble from people’s mouths’ when they are, presumably, trying to impress.

My friend went out with a young chap last week and for reasons known only to him he decided to talk to her for an entire 3 hours about his passion for fetish clubs. It seemed he has a full-on …well…fetish for fetish! Every weekend he dresses in one of his many ‘interesting’ outfits and heads to a club. He never misses a single weekend. Or so he says.

I mean really, what was the numpty thinking! Perhaps that she’d say ‘oh really, that’s so amazing…and what a coincidence because I happen to be sporting a barbed-wire brassier at this very moment in time…fancy a butchers at my wangers?’ No, of course not. Never gonna happen.

Not that there’s strictly anything wrong with fetish clubs and indeed my friend is a very open-minded sort of a gal so may have been more than willing to partake, but it’s not what you want to hear when you’ve only just established their second name.

No doubt I’ve rattled on to you lovely lot a hundred times and more about the importance of reigning in any oddness for the first couple of dates –if, for example, you happen to go damp in the gusset for unicycles, or some such nonsense, just keep it under wraps until you’ve got your proverbial feet under the table. But I have a sneaky suspicion that when you have something of this ilk to talk about, it’s almost good to get it out in the open straight away, because lets face it, for our man here, any girl who isn’t going to share this passion is not going to cut his particular brand of leather-clad mustard.

So perhaps I was wrong (it has been known!). Perhaps it’s better to get the madness out there in the open for all to see. After all, if this chap had kept it under wraps my mate wouldn’t be spending this Saturday night at a place called ‘Wet ‘n’ Whiplashed’ dressed as one of the Village People – and that sounds like an experience no-one should miss!

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