Worldwide fans of mine will be aware of the low regard I have for gender self-identification.  It strikes me that in 5 year’s time or so we’ll all be saying, “What the hell were we thinking?” and those who chose to identify themselves as “he” or “she” or “they” as opposed to their birth sex will own a hidden guilt normally reserved for fans of Donny Osmond.

But lately I have come to temper my views on this as I realise some of its advantages; not of gender self-identification which seems to me only to offer the unwelcome prospect of a sore and dilated anus (unless I  identified as a lesbian woman, in which case I would be back where I started) but rather of medical self-identification.

I fancy the idea of having Asperger’s or Tourettes.  Both would explain my lack of social skills in saying and doing things considered extremely insensitive or offensive by other people.  What a wonderful umbrella it would provide for calling someone “a lardarse” or exhorting them to “get your baps out”.

“Ah,” you might think, “but wouldn’t you need medical evidence?”  Well, I wouldn’t have thought so.  What other evidence does a doctor need in determining a person’s sex when, for example, their cock is staring them in the face, the conclusion drawn by the medical practitioner present at the child’s birth?

And ironically, the most vociferous apologists for me would be the most woke.