Tony and me have just returned from the park, where we enjoyed a fine day with a couple of girls we met in the pub last night.
The two girls are in London for a few weeks, as part of a student exchange program, having flown in from America a few days ago, and according to Tony, flown into our lives like a gift from the Gods.
Of course, Tony told Jessica and Mary-Beth that they should take care not to talk to strangers, and avoid going out late at night. He even added that our flat would be a perfect place for the two of them to stay, instead of the crappy accomodation that had already been reserved for them.
Jessica thanked Tony for his kind offer, and although she said that she thought Tony was a "kind-hearted softy, with a heart of gold*," she told him that there was no way in the world that her and Mary-Beth could possibly invade our space, because the two girls, according to Jessica, are untidy, hopeless at cooking and have very little to offer us in return for our hospitality.
Naturally, Tony isn't interested in girls who can cook, but rather girls who will remove all of their clothes and share his bed with him. And, I reckon the boy's right when he says that untidiness isn't such a terrible crime, especially if it means that Jessica and Mary-Beth insist on leaving their underwear scattered throughout the flat.
Still, as I told Tony, girls are great company when there's not much to do in life, but now that the football season has started, even though the thought of wild sex seems too good to refuse, we must remember that we are nothing but two, idle bastards, who like to spend our free time drinking, smoking and watching football, in the comfort of our favourite pub.
Tony agreed with my ideas of what our priorities should be, and although he's taken Jessica's telephone number, he knows in his own heart that he just can't fully commit himself to a life of domesticated bliss, and that if his previous experiences are anything to go by, any love affair with either of the two girls would be doomed from the very start.
* He's actually a foul-mouthed, fat bastard, who drinks excessively and has a liking for double cheeseburgers and fries.