Somehow I have acquired a reputation for being reluctant to take part in memes. Not sure how, I thought it was perfectly obvious that I’m extremely easygoing and mild-mannered and totally enthusiastic about being tagged in memes. But that’s not what people think! Nevertheless, I get tagged. It’s like – mahahahaha – people are tagging me WITH THE EXPRESS PURPOSE of pissing me off. You jokers! You cheeky little tinkers! Ah, you lot crack me up. So much. FFS.

Before I unleash flying monkeys and a whole world of pain upon the nefarious minds who think up these farking memes, lemme make one thing clear: you usually end up reading memes here cos I really like the person who has tagged me and am planning to elicit some bum-gropage from them at some point soon. In this case, it’s the splendidly beauteous From Fun to Mum who has passed on the baton of meme, and I cannot refuse her. She’s too lush. I want a piece of her spicy Italian meat. And I don’t mean pepperoni.

This meme is called the Yummy Mummy Meme which just makes me itch in an angry way already. The term ‘yummy mummy’ is heinous and anus. Cake is yummy. Chocolate is yummy. Gin is uber-yummy. Mummy, however, is frazzled, covered in shit and about ten hours’ sleep away from anything resembling yummy. So fark it. Yummy farking mummy indeed.

There are some questions to answer. Let’s see how pissing yummy I am, yeah?

What is the first thing you do when you wake up?

Ignore Moo squawking in the other room. Scratch my arse. Sniff my finger. Hide under the duvet. Have a wank. Drink tea. Avoid mirrors. In no particular order.

Do you shower daily? Are you an early morning shower or an evening bath type? 

I shower twice a year and usually only if there are holy men present ready to exorcise my demons as I do so. Yes of course I shower in the morning, though I have been known to make use of baby wipes and dry shampoo if I have no time to wash. Last time I got in a bath, I pushed a baby out of my vagina so I won’t be doing that again in a hurry.

Do you wear make-up daily? 

No. I favour the ‘wild woman of Borneo’ look.

What’s in your make-up bag?

Twigs and buttons. A mouldering mascara. Baby wipes. Tiny, savage people.

When you are having a slummy mummy day, what do you wear?

Nothing. I go nude. Let it all hang out. This is why the guys on the building site across the road prefer my slummy mummy days.

Nails: how often do you get them done?

I’ve NEVER had a manicure. Ever. However, I tweeted a photo of my talons yesterday (see below) and folk seemed think they looked pretty good as is. So that’s something to be pleased about, I guess.

Your top tip for tired eyes? 

Scoop ‘em out and pop another pair in. A spoon is handy for such a manoeuvre. And some other eyes.

Are you a Starbucks or Costa kind of girl?

Why, is one more yummy than the other? I did not know this. I drink from both. Which one is the yummy one? I can’t believe I’ll have to choose. Now I’m totally having an existential crisis.

How many children do you have/want and why?

I have one already. Ideally, I’d like thirty nine or so. That way, at least one of ‘em would end up rich and famous and therefore able to keep me in gin and diamond shoes when I’m ancient. Sadly, I have no partner to oblige me in this baby-making shizzle. So please send me your sperms. And a turkey baster.

What is your favourite place to shop for children’s clothes?

The local butchers.

Flats or heels everyday?

I can’t even think how this renders me yummy or not. Flats.

Oh my days, that’s it. I thought the questions would go on forever then, like some sort of interrogative purgatory. But it’s over. IT’S OVER. And now I’m supposed to perpetuate the agony by tagging other people. Y’all know, though, that ain’t my style.

Please, if you wish to ascertain whether you are ‘yummy’ or not, go crazy and tag yo’ good self. Otherwise, take one last lingering look at the giant picture of my hand, and then imagine me scratching my arse with it. Good day!