Announcing my intention to carry on working until I pop, instead of stopping next week as planned has triggered a chorus of objections from friends and parents and colleagues and HR departments saying I need to ‘rest’, I need ‘time to prepare’. I need to ‘nest’.

Where the fuck… …did society get this idea that women need an enforced period of silent contemplation before we’re allowed to give birth. And what the fuck is ‘nesting’? The house is already ankle-deep in toddler toys. The bed is ready, the baby clothes are washed. What else do you want from…

I guess this was inevitable, but it’s still depressing. If anything, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now:

I went to the shopping centre to get a sandwich and a cuppa for lunch. Before heading back to the picket line I popped into the loo for a wee and to empty the cup.🧵 When I came out the cubicle there was a middle-aged woman washing her hands. There was no sanitary bin in the cubicle I used, so I was very discreetly clutching the wet-wipes I’d used to wipe the cup, in my closed hand. As I put them in the bin, the woman HISSED at me. I mean…🧵

A very pretty woman in very short shorts sat next to me on the train.

I liked her legs. She had lovely legs. I liked her face and when she sat down, I liked the way she smelled.

She’ll never know any of this, because I didn’t react to her at all. I sat within the boundaries… …of my own space, pulling my own leg a bit closer to give her room.

Two men opposite reacted a bit differently. One pointed at the girl, said ‘clock the legs mate’. No effort to keep his voice down, a puffed up little display of power and sexual dominance.

His mate joined in…

This is an extremely fucking smug and self-satisfied thread. I hope you enjoy it. I hope you find it as much fun as I had this afternoon.

This is how it went down.

I’m on holiday, with Andrew and Julie and the kids, plus Andrew’s parents. They’re all here for the week, sadly… …I have to go home on Monday. But it’s still so nice to be away.

Today we walked from our cottage, down to the village for lunch in the pub. A gentle 30-minute walk, at kids’ pace, and a picture-perfect table outside a picture-perfect village pub, right on the corner of the…

My vagina: Pssst. Wake up.

Me: What do you want? It’s 4am.

Vag: There’s a MAN spooning us.

Me: I know. It’s Tom. We’ve known him for decades. He’s very gay.

Vag: But he has an erection…

Me: I’m aware. It’s a physiological thing that happens to men in their sleep, it means… …nothing.

Vag: It’s like 3cm away from me. I could just…

Me: Calm the fuck down. He’s wearing shorts, we’ve got pants on…

Vag: Oh girl, when has that ever stopped us? I’m turning on the taps…

Me: FFS

Left tit: Err, his hand is on me.

Me: It’s *resting* on you, on top…