Pick up a copy of the next City Weekend for my “I’ll regret this in a few months, but this is still pretty hilarious” appearance in the cover story. The genetically-blessed male specimen on the left is the boyfriend of the editor’s friend, who appears as one of my wingwomen (if wingwomen to short Asian girls are always so Amazonian) in the photos.

I had no part in writing the story and merely lent a pair of high heels and a permanently quizzical facial expression to ham up various portions of the sad, sorry tale of the mating dance. The kind that begins with 43 year old married bankers to whom gravity has not been kind and ends in the male being eaten alive. Oh wait, that’s in the animal kingdom. Or is it? Stay away from that serpent, Adam.

Related posts:

1. Asian wives and girlfriends