Introducing: 7 Girls & 1 Mug
Welcome to the trials and tribulations of one man living in a house of all females.
Lets call me Muggins. I’m in my second year at the University of Nottingham and I live with 7 girls. First, a bit about myself:
- I’m straight (despite fighting off incredible levels of oestrogen on a daily basis)
- I’m an only child
- I’m a relatively functional member of society
- I’m lazy
- I dislike a great deal of things and people
- I have something of an internal monologue and the theory is this diary will seem less psychotic
Essentially lots of people ask me what it’s like to live with so many girls and due to aforementioned laziness, I tend to mumble something back about it being ‘alright’ and then the cliched response is normally ‘at least its tidy’.
Think less lounging by the pool at the Playboy Mansion and more pulling hair out of a drain in a Turkish prison cell. So I’m going to be bringing you daily updates from my life, and my struggle against the overwhelming amount of femininity I find myself surrounded by.
There are many different ways of looking at a boy living with this number of girls and I’ve heard them all. I quite like the mormon approach. With that in mind lets meet the wives.
Lets call them:
- Lucy (the jukebox)
- Hannah (the liberal)
- Sophie (the smoker)
- Bridget (the mother)
- Harriet (the analyst)
- Rachel (the boobs)
- Mia (the athlete)
Names have been changed because I can’t deal with the hormonal fall out that would ensue if, God forbid, I manage to offend any of them. Each of them bring their own little quirks to the house, which is simply delightful. One thing they all bring is long hair, it gets fucking everywhere.
Check back next week where I find out more than I want to know about the girls and their bodily functions.