Last week I met up with my friend Cake (check out her blog at: http://cupcake-freak.blogspot.com/ ) for a coffee and a gossip and as friends do we started talking about the usual and the unusual. I don’t know how we got on the subject but Cake, who is so honest and direct makes Simon Cowell look like a pussycat, said:
‘But you’re shallow. You ARE shallow.’
At first I was taken aback. No one has ever called me shallow. No one ever dared to. But here was Cake, telling me I was shallow.
Usually I would say I am deep person; insightful and… well whatever else makes you deep. And I know I can be shallow sometimes but how?
‘You’re concerned about looking good, about your appearance, about clothes and style.’
‘Maybe that makes me gay?’
‘Maybe that. But it also makes you shallow.’
I realised that I never was like this before I moved to Cyprus. In the UK you can go shopping in your pyjamas and people wouldn’t bat an eyelid. In Cyprus if you are not dressed (με την τριχα - is that correct?) then you might as well move to Siberia and live in a cave (which is what my old house in Pallouriotissa was like).
But believe it or not, I have become rather shallow. Well… maybe not shallow per se, more vain, more aware that you need to look good. If you live in Nicosia you will understand. Limassol is more relaxed, more surf-dude attitude than the Gap-meets-Gucci.
And so to see whether I am shallow or deep, I made a list of how much money I spent on for my appearance and then another list on matters of the soul.
€25 – wax: legs and chest
€20 – facial
€35 – laser treatment for eyebrows
€30 – haircut
€15 – manicure (I’m a businessman, I need to have clean and presentable hands)
€30 – swimming trunks (I don’t just wear suits)
€20 – on condoms (it’s the summer)
€50 – sunglasses (not Gucci – see, I can control myself)
€60 – monthly gym membership (but come on, it’s not just for looks)
€80 – two pairs of shoes, black and brown (for work not for pleasure)
€200 – new clothes: 2 new shirts, white shorts (it’s the sales)
I think that’s about it. It’s reasonable right?
But I’m also deep. I bought these books recently to prove to myself how deep I am.
- Gigolo: by Golden
- Diary of a Jetsetting Call Girl: by Tracy Quinn
- Dirt - Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band: by Motley Crue
- How to Make Love like a Porn Star - A Cautionary Tale: by Jenna Jameson
With all these books, who needs Paulo Coelho? But I ordered these from Amazon.co.uk because I didn’t have enough money to buy some new underwear for a date I was having. Two pairs of briefs only cost me €75. It’s reasonable right? I mean, it is for romance!
But you know what; if you want to see how deep I am, ask me ‘how deep is your love?’ Then I’ll show you. And I don’t mean the type of αγάπη απο nylon!
‘But you’re shallow. You ARE shallow.’
At first I was taken aback. No one has ever called me shallow. No one ever dared to. But here was Cake, telling me I was shallow.
Usually I would say I am deep person; insightful and… well whatever else makes you deep. And I know I can be shallow sometimes but how?
‘You’re concerned about looking good, about your appearance, about clothes and style.’
‘Maybe that makes me gay?’
‘Maybe that. But it also makes you shallow.’
I realised that I never was like this before I moved to Cyprus. In the UK you can go shopping in your pyjamas and people wouldn’t bat an eyelid. In Cyprus if you are not dressed (με την τριχα - is that correct?) then you might as well move to Siberia and live in a cave (which is what my old house in Pallouriotissa was like).
But believe it or not, I have become rather shallow. Well… maybe not shallow per se, more vain, more aware that you need to look good. If you live in Nicosia you will understand. Limassol is more relaxed, more surf-dude attitude than the Gap-meets-Gucci.
And so to see whether I am shallow or deep, I made a list of how much money I spent on for my appearance and then another list on matters of the soul.
€25 – wax: legs and chest
€20 – facial
€35 – laser treatment for eyebrows
€30 – haircut
€15 – manicure (I’m a businessman, I need to have clean and presentable hands)
€30 – swimming trunks (I don’t just wear suits)
€20 – on condoms (it’s the summer)
€50 – sunglasses (not Gucci – see, I can control myself)
€60 – monthly gym membership (but come on, it’s not just for looks)
€80 – two pairs of shoes, black and brown (for work not for pleasure)
€200 – new clothes: 2 new shirts, white shorts (it’s the sales)
I think that’s about it. It’s reasonable right?
But I’m also deep. I bought these books recently to prove to myself how deep I am.
- Gigolo: by Golden
- Diary of a Jetsetting Call Girl: by Tracy Quinn
- Dirt - Confessions of the World’s Most Notorious Rock Band: by Motley Crue
- How to Make Love like a Porn Star - A Cautionary Tale: by Jenna Jameson
With all these books, who needs Paulo Coelho? But I ordered these from Amazon.co.uk because I didn’t have enough money to buy some new underwear for a date I was having. Two pairs of briefs only cost me €75. It’s reasonable right? I mean, it is for romance!
But you know what; if you want to see how deep I am, ask me ‘how deep is your love?’ Then I’ll show you. And I don’t mean the type of αγάπη απο nylon!
1 comment:
hahhahahahah!! baby, u might be shallow (just a little bit) but i wav u so much!!!
i shall let the fact that u r friggin ignoring my messages today pass, thats how much i love u!
oh and it "stin triha" not me tin triha ;-P
ur greek is so fuckin cute
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