I've found a more personal, pagan kind of religion to satisfy the spiritual side of things.

It was all about wanting to get revenge. Pathetic, really, but it still is the motivation.

I didn't think of myself as a tart, but I wouldn't argue with anyone who did

My dresser and I have the hots for the new rugby ace Danny Cipriani. We have a shrine in my dressing room - press photos of him on the field looking swarthy and fit, and snaps of our boy emerging from Mayfair nightclubs, looking sexy and dishevelled.

The bullying was hideous and relentless, and we turned it round by making ourselves celebrities.

I'm not sure how aware of the rest of the world I am. I live a rather sheltered existence

I'm currently in an interesting correspondence with a nun about forgiveness