Twister

I had a game of Twister with some friends last weekend and it's certainly a good indicator of how out of shape you are. There's no denying that I can still strike and hold a mean pose on the mat but flick my blobs it wasn't long before the thigh burn really kicked in. I was screaming like a woman giving birth to a 10lb cactus at the referee to keep spinning that dial so I could keep on moving.

I retired unbeaten but jelly-legged.

This led me on to further thoughts as to how soon in a relationship you can introduce a game of Twister into the mix. I was discussing this very thing over a couple of pints with good friend Dale Watskin the other night. I thought it might be a second date thing but Dale was up for the first date option. It would certainly break the ice if you've got your crotch in a girls face within hours. You probably know how you stand within a few minutes of this happening. Oh blah, blah, blah, sorry it's late and I'm dribbling on now.