Outgunned

Not satisfied with infesting my bathroom with unguents, festooning my lounge with scatter cushions or threatening to rearrange my boudoir - the girls have started getting united.

The warning sign was the other evening - Donna-Da-Lodga and My Particular Friend were found giggling to themselves on my sofa when I entered the room. A few days later a ghastly image of me appears on her blog - one that Da-Lodga had taken in jest.

Now I discover they have opened a popular front - and are emailing each other.

Lord alone knows what fripperous trivialities they swap. But one thing is certain - like the displacement of my dettol - this could be the thin end of a another grisly wedge.

They must be stopped.

Something must be done.

Up With This, I Shall Not Put..............