If you’re expecting the usual sex blogging here, you’ll be sorely disappointed. I wrote this because some people (like, literally about five) asked me if I was planning to blog about my recent bike trip across Europe, and although I’m not going to write a tonne of posts, I do love having the excuse to tell you the things that made it rock and the things I’d have done differently. Apart from anything else, it’s a fun opportunity to reflect on something I’m proud of and capture bits that I’d like to remember in years to come – I always tell other people to do this so maybe I should do it myself. But as I say it will only be of interest to about five of you, so consider yourself warned. I’m writing the advice part as if you want to do the exact same thing I did, but naturally your mileage may vary. Take what you want from this, ignore the bits you don’t, and please refrain from giving me advice because I haven’t asked for it. For me, part of the joy of doing this kind of thing is figuring it out on my own. I do this by seeking out other people’s blogs/videos/maps, taking what I need from those and discarding what I don’t. If you want to give advice to other cyclists, by all means do so, but please share it on a broadcast channel that anyone can read (like a quote post), rather than directing it at me in my comments. Anyway. If you want to do what I did (or something similar), here’s how to cycle from London to Budapest.

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I know I always bang on about how there aren’t any universal tricks to make your sex life better. There’s no ‘one simple way’ to please your lover in bed. But I’ve decided – after a decade and a half of sex blogging – that there is actually one change that would have a near-universal positive impact on everybody’s sex life. It isn’t something an individual can do on their own, it’s a choice we need to collectively make as a society. But we can make this choice if enough of us get on board. The one simple trick to give everyone a better sex life: Universal Basic Income.

Hear me out.

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One of my favourite songs by The Beautiful South, Prettiest Eyes, tells the story of a lifelong love by the lines it has drawn on the face of the singer’s beloved. “Line one is the time that you, you first stayed over at mine. And we drank our first bottle of wine. And we cried.” Life makes its mark on you, if you’re lucky enough to keep living it. The lines you draw tell a story about how you’ve lived. In the spring of 2026 I drew these lines.

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For as long as I can remember, I have yearned for a partner. Even when I was too young to understand sex or romance, I pursued boys. With a relentless, aching need. I’m sure some of them could sense it radiating out of me. As a child, when a brand new boy would turn up in whatever context – playing with my siblings and I on holiday, or transferring into my class from another school – my whole being would suddenly snap into focus, laser-targeted on whether or not this one might be a possibility. As a teenager, I was obsessed with the idea of having a boyfriend, and although there was one boy I was wildly in love with, I knew deep in my heart that any boy would do. I just wanted to be loved. When I finally did secure a boyfriend – even though he was entirely unsuited to me – there was a powerful feeling of relief and accomplishment. I’ve done it! I’ve got one! I am wanted! Go me! I yearn for a partner, I always have done. I just really really want to be loved.

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I’ve spent far too long trying to come up with ideas to put a spin on this year’s Valentine’s Day post. I promise my lovely site sponsors I’ll do one every year, because Valentine’s Day is pretty big in the sex industry and it’s a good time to remind you of awesome products that you can buy to support my work. This year I’m struggling. Everything’s awful, isn’t it? Fascism, obviously. The latest tranche of Epstein emails. AI making it hard to know what’s real and what isn’t. Genocide. I get that this isn’t the most appropriate way to start a post about Valentine’s Day, but forgive me, it’s all I have. Everything is absolutely terrible, and it’s hard to write a jolly wrap or sexy little vignette designed to sell you sex toys in the shadow of all that.

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