THE readers of consumer magazine Which? recently voted a budget airline — which for legal reasons I shall henceforth refer to as Cryin Air, on account of how its passengers have been seen weeping as they try to board its airlines – as the worst of 100 major consumer brands serving Britain and Ireland. That’s 100th out of 100. Epic fail.

YOU know when you try to cancel your gym membership and they make you wait six months before you’re freed from your contract because you didn’t read the small print? There is only one feasible response to that. Go to the gym every single day.

THE other day, at a motorway service station somewhere forgettable, I nipped into the loo before paying three times over the odds for a substandard espresso to get me through the last hundred miles of traffic-choked hell.

I MISSED the whole Slane Girl thing when I was away, because of a three week self-imposed media blackout and digital detox – no phone, no internet, no newspapers, no telly. Of all the news stories I missed – apart from Syria, obviously – Slane Girl is the one that most made my jaw drop.

FRANCE is the most visited country on earth — 80-something million of us go there each year. So there’s no point going on about it, because you’ll already know all about the French joie de vivre, savoir vivre, savoir faire, sang froid, maybe even the hauteur or froideur if you commit a faux pas like turning up topless to the village post office to buy stamps, having walked a mile along a Cote d’Azur beach in 35 degree heat.

My sister tells me the French for ‘vegan’ is ‘fou’, but I don’t believe her.

SOMEONE shared a video on Facebook. It was in the aftermath of Pride in Brighton, one of the town’s biggest weekends of the year, which happens every August.

I BELIEVE it’s called meshing, although as a non-geek (that is, an advanced technophobe) I couldn’t be sure. It’s the process of an individual — your kid, for instance — sitting on a sofa with the telly on, volume up, but he’s not watching it because he has an iPad in one hand and a PSP console thing in the other.

IT’S just days away from our beach holiday — the one where I will drive 800 miles to a campsite in the south of France with two kids in the back chorusing “are we there yet” — but all I keep hearing about is how I should be worried about my “bikini body”.

EVERY baby is born the same — squalling, bloody, scrunched up, a few fragile pounds of infinite need and life-changing feelings for the boggle-eyed new parents.