Domestic goddess... not

With dating comes sharing
Gone are the days when I could rock out to Midnight Oil with enough peach schnapps in my hair to guarantee the same flammability properties as nylon. Who could forget shouting at the top of your lungs "how can you sleep while this bed is burning!?!", hand in the air shooting a meaningful look to man on your left.

The whole evening was worth at least three weeks worth of small talk, schmooching and maybe a sneaky shag or six.

Now it is dating and with dating comes sharing. And with sharing comes being an interesting person. And being an interesting person these days includes having a hobby, like being able to cook.

Unfortunately, the last time I suggested I needed to be a little bit inebriated to whip up a good meal I was told that one would probably need to be very inebriated to eat my meal.

Apparently simple and delicious are the key words. I bat my eyelids and suggest I am simple but delicious, I am met with a deadpan yes, but can you cook?

My excuse? My tongue has been busy elsewhere
I have decided that I excel well enough in other areas i.e. blow jobs; hand jobs; talking dirty and kissing with tongue that I can be forgiven for not being Nigella.

Domestic goddess is on hold, it could only possibly detract from bedroom goddess. I am hoping if I put on something skimpy enough he will be too enthralled to realise we are eating takeout from the place down the road.

What do you think? Do your skills in bed make up for your lack of skills in the kitchen, or vice versa?