Don't say that, don't touch there...

The return of Charlie, the safety elephant has brought out something of the feminist which occasionally resides in Trixy.

For are there not women in the cabinet (note the distinction between 'women' and 'ladies' here, chaps) who have sacrificed themselves on the pillar of public service, with a dream only of making our lives better and, more importantly, safer?

There is one who is 'living the dream', if the dream happens to be busybody interference in our day to day lives, coupled with a desire to remove anything that is vaguely fun, exciting, witty or clever from our existence. A woman who would be happy for us, poor citizens of the New Labour State, to live in hermetically sealed bubbles, spared the effects of one drink too many, a fondness for cigarettes or a preference for cars over push bikes eating lentils and knitting our own knickers until we are all so fucking bored we are begging for Alzheimer's to spare us from knowing what pointless, flaccid lives we are leading.

Harriet Harperson is Sexual Harassment Panda.



Here's hoping that very soon, she will be sent to the Misfit Mascots Commune.