Much has annoyed me this week:Albo trekking the Kokoda,BabyGate,puppacinos. But nothing compares to the rage I feel about Meghan claiming to reinvent a fete staple.
If you’re going to be for all women,you have to acknowledge when you f--- over other women.
Men,imagine if women were bigger and stronger than you,and one of them picked you off literally every week. Would you find the time to talk about it?
Having a baby is the rare thing you can’t back out of. Tatts,vasectomies,vows,all reversible. Babies,not so much. What if you do it and realise it’s not for you?
All drugs can destroy lives,finances,relationships. But in the spirit of openness,let’s not lie. They’re fun,and therein lies the rub.
Somehow it feels like one of the world’s most celebrated media forces has morphed into a crass shill for Big Pharma.
The next time a Married at First Sight cast member tells another of their cohort they’re not being serious about “the experiment” I’m going to spew.
The scenario of Kate in her home office,tinkering to create the perfect comeback photo after abdominal surgery in January,is genuinely bizarre and weird.
Secrets love shadows,and the public’s appetite for respecting Kate’s privacy request has cracked. We pay for her high life,we want to see her. Wheel her out or our curiosity could turn toxic.
It feels self-consciously woo-woo to talk about what is lost and found. But it lets you focus on what’s really important,even if it does make you a cliche.
It sounds lame,but before my first marriage I gave little thought to what it was about my groom that made him worth nailing down.