You know the kind of thing I mean:

• The Witches of Eastwick
• Death Becomes Her
• The Banger Girls

So I am watching The Women, wondering how a director, screenwriter and editor have managed gather the most amazing female actress ingredients and yet cooked up something so very, very bland, when Bette Midler hits the screen.

And there I am, on the TV. The character she's playing in that moment, is me.

Let me set the scene. Whatsername from When Harry Met Sally... Mey Ryan! Yeah. Well, her character's husband has cheated on her and so she is getting a divorce. She isn't dealing with it well so she goes off to some yoga camp thingy. There are four women and a butchish instructor stretching by the side of the lake, next to wooden canoes. And along comes Bette, in full regalia: jangly jewellery, jumbo purse, velveteen tracksuit. 

Instructor: OK everyone, take a deeeeep, cleansing breath. Look around. Respect the power of nature. This is why you have come to the camp. Let it heeeeeal you.

[...bla bla other stuff you don't need to be bored with...] 

Bette Midler: Hold on, I'm coming! Don't start without me! Oh my God! I'm sorry. I'm just not used to getting up at the crack of friggin' dawn (excuse my French). Is this the time you always start? Because I'm pretty sure the lake will still be here at noon.

Instructor (crossing arms): We always canoe at dawn.

Bette (shrugging): I always fake my orgasms. That doesn't make it right.

Oh yeah, that's me.

As I always say when people talk about camping (after I snort with derision) "No room service - no deal."

And yes, I have seen the beauty of mother nature in the morning... Back in my twenties when we used to go clubbing and stay up all night.