Column: My back door is jammed

Or why am I so rubbish at anal sex? Despite what I may have said in previous posts, there are some things that I still can’t figure out – in particular, anal sex. I have never learnt how to get this right or how to enjoy it. One of many reasons why The Man will up sticks and

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Column: Walking home

I leave the warm, bright and hazy air of the pub. The laughter and babbling buzz of voices fade abruptly as the door swings shut behind me and the smell of real ale and sweat is replaced by the cold, stale winter air. Rotting leaves, car exhausts, cigarette smoke and a faint whiff of spicy

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Column: Round robin / revelation

Dear __ As we come to the end of another year, it’s time for my annual update on the Nooky-Hill family. I do hope you and yours are all well and looking forward to the festive season. I have had an eventful year to say the least. Currently, I am writing this from a locked

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Column: A trip down memory lane or Fanny Alley

So, as this year comes to a close, it seems the right time to get nostalgic and misty-eyed about the past. Today I am looking a long way back to days of innocence, when sex was something everyone else seemed to be doing. In fact there are times, in drought periods, when I still think

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Column: Watch out, Santa!

Dear Santa (or would you prefer Santa Baby or maybe even SB), I can’t say I’ve been an ‘awful good girl’ – I have probably been an awful bad girl for much of the time, or just plain awful… But if you can see your way clear of rewarding me for some of the good

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Column: Saying something stupid like…

…”Am I wobbling  a lot?” I often think our whole lives are led by what we say – “I do”, “yes, I’ll take the job”, “Ok – I’ll put on the gimp mask”, “go on then – I’ll stay for another drink” etc. etc. Drunken Slut Mum has many moments when she wishes that, rather

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Column: In the zone

Ever had the feeling that the bus you were hoping to catch just drove by without even stopping and opening its doors? I mean in a metaphorical sense, not when the damn bus is too full for any more passengers (which used to be a regular Saturday night occurrence many moons ago). I first heard

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Column: Ode to my buzz / Protest song

My buzzer’s like a ‘zz zz’ noise That’s perfectly in tune Oh, my buzz is like the ecstasy That turns me to a lune   As great are you my buzzing friend So much in bliss am I And I will switch you on, my pal ‘Til all your power has died   ‘Til all

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Can you get a bird in the hand if you are too far in the bush?

A male acquaintance recently joked that the current fashion for an enormous foliage of facial hair is rendering beards the status of appliances, as opposed to light chin coverage. Ever other guy over 18 seems to be trying out a facial garden. And we aren’t talking a neatly trimmed lawn or ‘goatee’ here, but a

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Out of my league

I wanted to kiss you there and then. To gently press my lips on yours, just for a few seconds, just to taste you. But would it have been right? After all, we only met two hours ago, drank coffee and talked for an hour and forty minutes. An hour and forty minutes to try

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Shaves in toy land

Q: What do scallops, gin, spanking and olives all have in common? (This isn’t some kind of surreal joke, by the way). A: They are all things that Drunken Slut Mum would not go near with a barge pole when she was 18 but now she enjoys them all. I thought scallops looked too odd,

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The man in the picture

The man in the picture smiles broadly; he shows a row of even white teeth. The smile is natural, spontaneous, etching crinkles around his eyes. And those eyes – clear, blue, welcoming the camera lens, not shifty, nor untrusting. He presumably knows whoever is behind the viewfinder – maybe it’s a friend, an old girlfriend,

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Let there be light

Before The Man, just the thought of sex in the light – be it daylight or with the light on – made me want to put on an extra cardigan. In the early years with The Ex it was rarely suggested, but then any hint of it was largely supressed by me, quickly turning the

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How does it work?

With all my recent questioning and hand-wringing over relationships, which never comes to any satisfactory conclusion, I thought it time to look at those who get it right. Or appear to get it right in front of friends and onlookers. Some couples just seem to make it work with very few problems – no pots

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15 things that are pretty much a certainty when you are a middle-aged single mum

Being a single (sexually frustrated) middle-aged mum can be rather lonely and isolated, especially when you know no other single middle-aged mums and don’t actually have the time to seek any out. Maybe some of this will trigger some solidarity, maybe it will just reinforce any notions that I am in a different dimension to everyone

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From mediocre to magic

You may think Drunken Slut Mum is a woman lacking any conscience or morality, without any feelings or care for anyone else other than herself. She likes to pretend this, especially in front of the man, but sorry, this isn’t the case. DSM feels, hurts, loves and laughs just like any other woman. I love

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Over and out?

Apparently there is no point going on the internet to find a potential partner, if you are a woman in her 40s – so says a newspaper article I found during a casual internet browse. I won’t disclose the wording I typed in my search box, but it included the words “is there any point…”

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Alas, the phallus (again)

“Stop waving your dick around – we’ve all seen it now so you can put it away!” I had got particularly annoyed by an arrogant and patronising email sent by a male contact and a female work colleague was suggesting how I could respond – in an ideal world. It did get me thinking that

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Sprechen sie Deutsche?

Everybody looks the same, or so the song says. But European travel – which I hadn’t done for a few years – proves it. A few years ago one could go to a typical Spanish, Greek, Italian or French hotel/complex and be able to pinpoint, from hairstyles and clothes alone, a person’s nationality. Now we

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On the (school) run

I walk briskly through the school gates, my head down, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the parents waiting outside. I also try not to stand too close to anyone, just in case they smell that I’ve recently downed two or three glasses of red wine. I tuck a bedraggled strand of hair behind

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Relax and don’t do it!

So, you’re 18 and it’s your first holiday away from your folks. No more boring treks around museums and old ruins, no more tedious family meals, followed by board games. You want to go clubbing, drink cocktails and get your end away. I hear you and I understand that now you have reached that age

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I can’t do this any more

A small tear trickled down my cheek, then another, and another, until I found myself sobbing uncontrollably and burying my soggy face in a pillow. My ex had given me some divorce papers to read and something in the wording had unexpectedly triggered this reaction. I wasn’t crying because I wanted my husband back, but

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Encore une fois

Ever make a decision, then ask yourself whether you were too hasty and should have thought it through a little more first? Ever think that aspects of your life seem to have progressed like merry-go-rounds, with you just returning to the same thing again and again? Does this intro sound like the start of a

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Rainfall

I sit on my front porch as the rain starts to fall. A gap in the guttering lets one large drop splat on the wall next to me. It is dark and the rain is only visible as passing car headlights briefly illuminate it, like sparkling shards. But the roaring spray, after days of scorching arid

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