Dancer here. If men in strip clubs knew how dancers talk about them in the dressing room, they would never come back. Best case is pity. Mostly we think you're scum. We know you all think you're the exception. Making you think that is our job.

I was the Queen of 'Slip-a-word-in' while working in the call centre for British Gas. The phone rang, you were given a word by a colleague you said it in the greeting. Best one I got away with was 'gonorrhea'.

I am embarrassed to have gone to the same school as crank anti-vaccine doctor Andrew Wakefield but I can't tell anyone because I am more embarrassed that I went to a private school.

The best sex of my life was with a guy who looked like a hobbit. Short, stacked and fucked like a train. Not been able to watch Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit since without blushing.

There are 642 tiles on the ceiling in the main hall of my daughters school. I know this because I counted every single one when bored senseless watching her recent dance recital.

If I can't do a task, I put on a costume of a person who can do a task. I can't clean my kitchen, but the tavern wench who pours the grog can.

Sometimes when I am walking in a crowded space like a busy High St, I put my head down, hand partially over my face like I'm an escaped convict evading the law and don't want to be spotted. People's reaction to this give me a little bit of a thrill to an otherwise dull day.

Mid-50s. Recently inherited enough money to be mortgage-free and not work again, but not enough for Ferraris etc. I've had to make a diary with a "to-do" each day, else I just sit all day and doomscroll. Not sure if I'm happy or not overall.

In my younger days I liked to sneak into hotels to use the swimming pool there. One time I was so excited to have been successful, that I jumped into the pool with my phone still in my pocket. That day was the end of my phone and also my days of sneaking into hotel pools.

My BF has ADHD, one of his tics is bouncing his leg. When it starts to annoy me, I put a hand on his knee and he stops. An unspoken thing between friends, of which the guy next to me on the train knew nothing about. He was sure surprised to get my hand on his knee.