Though it must be said that WorkBoy has one, extremely fatal flaw that just won't go away - he's a completely mediocre kisser. I always though too much tongue was the hallmark of a bad kisser (and God forbid I ever have another washingmachine again) but perhaps even worse is when you're gagging for some kind of variety but all you're getting is the kiss equivalent to All Bran.

I remember our first kiss was such an anti-climax. Having spent the best part of 2 dates feeling the sexual tension grow, I thought it was going to be a stunner.

Yeah, I was stunned alright. In a word, I just want to tell him: slip me some tongue, bitch!. (I'm a people person if you can't tell).

And I thought things might improve, but they haven't. And it doesn't help that I have as an Ex the Best Kisser in the Entire World Ever - he was the Lucky Charms of kissing. Ah - how the mighty fall. Lucky Charms to All Bran. Grr.

But I am determined to whip him into kissing shape using all my feminine wiles. So I'll need my whip, my handcuffs and my gimp mask then.

(Kidding!)