inspector clouseau, need-to-know, tmi, secret, discreet

Surely it’s on a need-to-know basis?

What’s left on your mortgage

That’s like a psychopath asking the prison board how long they have left to serve and the prison board saying, “Errr… you killed 958 people, like, why would you even ask that?”

How many units you drank last night

Does anyone even understand how the whole unit thing works? Is it based on the number of glasses? What if you’re drinking out of a small glass, how are you supposed to tell? And surely you can’t be expected to keep track of the units as you get increasingly drunk. Sorry, but that’s a major flaw in the whole unit system. And what kind of person thinks in units? So you know, just pass the Coke Zero and a bacon sandwich and let’s talk about something else.

Any information to do with an ex

He might be happy now, thinner, with a fuller head of hair, more handsome, richer, kinder, better in bed, amazing at cooking, a sensitive feminist who cried during the Dr Ford testimony, now married to a former model turned yoga teacher with three perfect children, but you know, he’s still the massive arsehole who dumped you in the same week that Kurt Cobain died and that makes his arseholeness eternal and irreversible.


Who decided the whole weight thing anyway? Who said this weight was better than that weight? Like that shit even matters when there are starving children in the world and suffering animals and Donald Trump and #MeToo and Brexit and OMG, get off the scales without looking down RIGHT NOW.

Magnifying mirror

Is that my face or is that THE SURFACE OF THE FUCKING MOON? *smashes mirror because seven years bad luck has to be better than this*

How many people you’ve slept with

Well, I mean, women have been freed sexually because of the pill and being feminists and we like sex too actually and if you’re asking about numbers, then I should point out they were all my boyfriends. Apart from the ones that weren’t. Like thingy and whatshisname and the adorable guy from my sister’s 21st, who was, you know, the waiter and I didn’t quite catch his name because he was a Spanish student with a very thick accent and we would have stayed in touch if I hadn’t left before he woke up and I’ve only done the walk of shame maybe twice or perhaps, you know, seven or nine times and it was only through my experiences in casual sex that I understood my preference for intimacy and, er, what was the question again?


I’m over 25, what’s your point?

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