"Here, we can stroll, and loll, and mess, and chat. We can play cards waiting for some lovely waitress to present us with grub, we can devise silly games and competitions to determine who gets to choose where we have lunch. We can do nothing, together."

"I find, funnily enough, the pose is hard to pull off when one boob flies free - swing low, sweet chariot - while the other one is still imprisoned in spandex. It puts the balance off a bit..."

"They create an environment of solace, and acceptance, there is a sense of peace there. And I don’t know how they do it, but there’s no ‘hospital smell’."

"The game couldn’t start until the dad finished berating the guy who looked after the property because the pool temperature wasn’t satisfactory. Big thick head on him, like a spoiled brat."

I end up having to sleep on a bench in the fancy lobby. I am woken by the doorman on the phone. “Yesssir, I got your morning papers here, Mr K, and your nanny. She came in last night stinking of alcohol.” The dirty fecking snitch. 

"I don’t want to normalise being tracked for my kids. I have to trust them and let them do their thing without micromanaging their avatar that’s popped up in Douglas when they said they were going to Bishopstown."

Glasses are finally cool, I only had to age 20 odd years. Women over 40 are owning their myopia, but they’re saying we can be short-sighted and stylish, focus on my frames, not my failing sight!

What he lacks in stature, he makes up for in body hair. He has his hands on his hips, so I know he means business. He is wearing a tinchy pair of black budgie smugglers, so I can also see his business.

"I feel there’s a little bit of us all here, me included. We’re all just trying to do our best, remember that, darling children, when you’re telling your therapists in later years."

You would not find me eating in the sheets