Because usually I really like sex, but here are my fail-safe anti-sex tips on how to really make sure you don't want 'it'...
1. Move house...two months before the Olympics
As if having to pack up all of your shit, find a 'reliable' man with a van and coordinate your moving out date with four other people, while coughing up the pittance of money you earn to spend on a deposit and a two months rent upfront, but still try to deceive the estate agent that yes, you can afford this house, isn't stressful enough [breathe] you also have to move just before the Olympics because the landlord has now decided he wants his house back. This inevitably makes house hunting nigh-on impossible and doubly stressful. Forced to replace porn watching time with gazing at Gumtree for five hours and trying to call and converse with 80 estate agents within a day, is enough to drive anyones mojo away.
2. Work all day in a sex shop
Don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun selling vibrators to unsuspecting customers ('unsuspecting' because they only came into 'browse'. I rarely let 'browsers' leave empty-handed), but really, there is too much of a good thing. After a 12 hour shift, the last sound I want to hear is the low murmur of a buzzing contraption. Simply fuck off and get that dual motored, multi-speed with 5 extra pulse functions, G-Spot vibe away from me.
3. Cut yourself shaving
I won't go into details, but "ow", and a bit sore. Does anyone know a good waxer?
4. Be a fun sponge
Due to moving house and working 12 hour shifts, allow yourself to be grumpy. Refuse to do anything more than sit on the sofa and drink red wine, then moan at your boyfriend when he suggests playing Xbox, going to catch up with friends, play golf, or even go for a nice walk. Put your foot down out right and say in your best huffy voice, "No." Guaranteed to kill not just yours, but his libido too.
5. Watch 'Lee Nelson's Really Good Show'...or whatever the fuck it's called
Never have I seen such pointless drivel on the TV - apart from Made In Chelsea - that has actually made me want to write to the BBC and demand back the portion of my licence fee that went towards paying for such utter shite. After listening to half an hour of his shit chav-like chat, you end up going to bed despairing at what the world has come to and it would be impossible to have sex even if you'd taken a bottle of Viagra because you simply loose hope for the human race and therefore any notions of wanting to procreate, or rehearse in the practise of, are totally lost.