When The Sex War Is

In My Third Husband I Had Discovered A Blissfully Laid-back Type Who Thought It Nothing Less Than Hilarious When I Misread The Map On The Way To Wales, So It Took Us An Extra Three Hours, Or When I Was Sick In A Plastic Carrier Bag During Much Of The Drive Back From Devon - A Bag That Turned Out To Have A Hole In It.

I Almost Choke On My Popcorn When I Hear Film Stars, Who Walk On Red Carpets As Much As The Rest Of Us Do On Zebra Crossings, Criticising Youngsters Who Crave Fame.

My Favourite Spectator Sport Is Watching People Who Should Know Better Searching For Something, And Often Claiming To Find It, Where It Never Could Be. Women Claiming To Find Feminism In Islam Is A Good One.

Prostitution Reinforces All The Old Dumb Clichés About Women's Sexuality; That They Are Not Built To Enjoy Sex And Are Little More Than Walking Masturbation Aids, Things To Be Done To, Things So Sensually Null And Void That They Have To Be Paid To Indulge In Fornication, That Women Can Be Had, Bought, As Often As Not Sold From One Man To Another. When The Sex War Is Won Prostitutes Should Be Shot As Collaborators For Their Terrible Betrayal Of All Women.

I Don't Have A Spiritual Bone In My Body; But What I Am, Is Religious.