Show me a frigid woman and, nine times out of ten, I'll show you a little man.

Prostitution is the supreme triumph of capitalism. When the sex war is won prostitutes should be shot as collaborators for their terrible betrayal of all women, for the moral tarring and feathering they give indigenous women who have had the bad luck to live in what they make their humping ground.

I am firmly of the opinion that women who make a lot of effort to hang onto their looks in middle age (unless they are beauties, entertainers or prostitutes) are rather sad, as one should surely have something more substantial to recommend one by this time, such as kindness or cleverness.

Women, more often than not, do things which aren't remotely relaxing but are all about preening, which is just another sort of work.

But just think what a boring, bread-and-milk world this would be without the boastful.

I know that Brighton is famously a mixture of the seedy and the elegant, but in the summer of 2001 seediness swamped elegance hands down.

People - and I include myself - get fat because they choose pleasure over self-denial.