What I'm up to

A window into my world...

Here’s a selection of scribblings in which I peel all the way down to my emotional underwear – a psychological striptease that occasionally reveals all.

Vitamin S Injections

My lips have lost weight. I’m not kidding. They’re getting thinner. Not from sanctimonious disapproval but from over-exercise. The amount of chortling and chatting I’ve done since London’s lockdown eased is marathon-level. I may need to put a little sweat band on my upper lip.

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RIP Prince Philip

A closet Aussie? Conservationist, controversialist, champion of young people, ladies’ man, larrikin – as the world mourns Prince Philip, Monarchists and Republicans alike can agree that the Duke was a bit of a dude. We really should rename him – the Dude of Edinburgh.

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How to be a domestic slattern

It was a tough call… I really had to steal my nerves, but I finally got up the courage to fire myself from cleaning my house. Not only did I catch myself drinking heavily on the job, raiding the pantry to sneak biscuits every five minutes and cutting corners, (does anyone ever really look under rugs?) but I had a lousy attitude too. I was surly and resentful.

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Dirty deeds down under

Is it time to take the Men out of Mensa? If you’re an Australian conservative politician, then the answer’s yes. While women in Britain have been holding vigils for Sarah Everard and exposing “rape culture” through the “Everyone’s Invited” campaign, thousands of Australian women have also joined rallies demanding more robust responses to sexual harassment and assault.

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Soap Oprah: Whose side are you on?

So, now the blood has soaked into the shagpile, what did you make of the Soap Oprah? I’ve been in Britain since the broadcast and let me tell you, there’s no other topic of conversation.

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The low down on high heels

I confess – I have a foot fetish. I adore designer shoes. Well, if you put your foot in your mouth as often as I do, it’s simply got to be well shod. As I’m only five foot three, I also like to wear heels so I’m not constantly looking up men’s noses. Nor do I like to be marooned at flatulence-level.

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My books

Read at your own risqué

What do women really want in bed? Breakfast. Oh, and a good book.
If you’re looking for a funny, frivolous yet feisty new read, do slip between my covers. Satisfaction guaranteed.

My rogues gallery

The things I get up to when I should be writing….

I’ve added my fave pics of the people who are my human wonder bras – uplifting and supportive and make me look bigger and better. Plus the odd snap of me too. There may be a few faces you recognise – but nobody two-faced, that’s for sure.

One liners, wise cracks and witticisms

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