Halloween

Even though it's only September, a gay couple I know named James and James (yes, really) have announced that they are throwing a Halloween party this year. They are typically flamboyant and have plenty of single, slutty friends so naturally I can't wait.

I love Halloween; it's such a sexy occasion. It's the only time of year that you can rub shoulders with Elvis, Madonna and Marilyn Monroe without the aid of hallucinogenic drugs.

People tend to be so horny at Halloween. Hidden behind gory masks or caked in make-up, everyone seems to lose themselves in their alter-egos and shed their inhibitions. In fact, it's the most prolific date in my sexual calendar.

Over the years, I have been rimmed by Tutankhamen in the toilets of a club, been bent over in a dark alley by a pair of randy Oompa Loompas and had a blow-job from a filthy Mickey Mouse in the back of a taxi. The possibilities are endless. What other time of year could you hope to end your night in a phone-booth, ripping off Superman's clothes?

Needless to say, I intend to maximise my shagging potential this year. I plan to wear an irresistibly come-hither outfit that will hopefully end up crumpled on the floor of some stranger's bedroom.