I need a strong alcoholic drink, some chamomile tea with a Valerian root chaser and a relaxing massage from a hot Swedish hunk. Yes, you guessed it, my mother has finally returned home. As always it was lovely spending some quality time with the old maternal menace, but by all the gay gods it's good to have the house back to myself.

I imagine having your mother down for the weekend is rather like having a new maid start (I can only imagine) You tidy up before hand so things do not looks so bad, but somehow they manage to find things that need decontaminating anyway. No matter how hard you try to distract them, they always seem to veer towards that drawer in your room that 'rattles and clanks' and must not be opened by ANYONE except yourself or some guy you are dating that sex has become a little stale with and finally everything needs to be nailed down before it disappears into their handbags!

Hmm you guys must remind me to tell you the story behind the drawer that rattles and clanks sometime. It involves a primary school teacher with an unfeasible large penis!

Aaaaaaand with that, all thoughts of my mothers visit have cleared from my head. Now, do I still have his number I wonder?