I’ve been working in London this week, so I stayed with my mum and dad. They live in a medium-sized Essex commuter-belt town (whose name I must keep secret from you for now).

My mother plays badminton on Monday nights, so my father and I were left to our own devices.

I decided to take a bath.

It was at this point that I discovered that, despite having been married to my mother for about 1 grillion years and living in the same house since 1967, my dad had no idea whatsoever where the towels were kept.

I marvelled at the way that he has managed to retain his natural male authority in the household. In contrast, not only do I know where our towels are kept, but I cook dinner and load the washing machine as well. A wave of despair hit me as I wondered when it was that I became so oppressed.

Do not get me wrong, as I was very in favour of the emergence of ‘feminism’ in the seventies, even though I was only about five at the time. I was a bit young to understand Ms. Germaine Greer and all that, but I was certainly impressed by the day-to-day achievements of people like Ms. Bonnie Tyler, who proved that ladies could do just as well in previously male-dominated professions such as soft rock.

I reflected upon this as I took my bath. What the vast silent majority (all of whom agree with me on everything) did not realise is that the Liberal Elite that run this country would turn this once-great nation into literally being like ‘The Worm That Turned’ by the Two Ronnies.

I do not resent the LTLP for her complicit role in this, as I love her so and she is constantly being bombarded by propaganda from hilariously biased organisations such as the BBC who never question the current orthodoxy. These liberals are just like the Taliban in their way, but without the beards (except goatees).

I got progressively angrier as I washed my armpits.

I dried myself off with my dad’s towel.