So many frogs, so few princes

Annette and I are out looking at houses in Portobello. Her sugar daddy Peter has promised her a mortgage and is trundling behind us muttering about double glazing ruining the period look of the Georgian masionette.

"Has he been on your case?" I ask, wondering if Peter is now trying to get his wicked way.

"I've told him kissing on the lips instead of the cheek now is fine. Still no tongues. But, yes, he's been pulling the blue balls blues on me."

Blue balls blues is a "condition" that men get - general sulking and grumpiness caused by a woman's refusal to sleep with them.

We've met many men in the past who have tried to "help with our careers" but who had ulterior motives and have become very mean when rejected. So many, in fact, that we wrote a little song about it while we were working on our Shoreditch Radio show. It went on to inspire the creation of our band, Sister Darling.

We start to hum the Blue Balls Blues in unison.
"What are you singing, girls?" Peter asks, instantly curious.

"It's a song inspired by you!" says Annette. We cackle, and head on to the next house in Westbourne Grove.

We have an appointment at Shoreditch Radio tonight so Annette gives Peter the peck he so desires and he repays her with the cash for a cab. We keep the £40 and jump on the Tube where we discuss whether Peter counts as a bachelor or not.

We dislike bachelors. We've dated so many men who are convinced they're a "bachelor". London is full of them. Boys who think they're cool and have it all by sleeping around, when actually the sex is usually a let-down. We feel lucky to have found committed men. London can be lonely without one.

At the studio we record our newest tune, Quaint. We will be filming a video for YouTube next week and launching our new Sister Darling night, Bitch Puhleaze.

Annette departs with a bounce in her maroon heels, ready to present Peter's house offer to her boyfriend, Reese. In an unconventional way, she's settling down. Neanderthal comes to collect me and we hang on in the studio to make use of the sound-proof room with some naughtiness.

It's only as we leave that I realise the microphones were on in the booth. I just hope the engineers didn't press record. We may be aiming for an album but that's one song I don't want anyone else to sing along to.