Forget the war in Iraq, the US elections or Amy Winehouses lastet smack video on YouTube, the lesbian community has been rocked by news that Pink and hubby Carey Hart have decided to end their marriage.

Who would ever have guessed that the spiky haired, tattooed, lesbian icon and the motor bike racing womanizer wouldn't make the distance?

If you could manage to pass off as sane for three months then maybe you should consider applying for BB9!

Not a year has passed without an openly gay guy in the Big Brother house but to my knowledge there have only been three lesbian housemates; Anna, Kitten and Adele. Wouldn't it would be great if this year we could have some hot, intelligent, sane, gay women in the house?

The Breakup - At cinemas everywhere from Friday

If my past relationships were on screen then they would play out like a B rated disaster movie, too many explosions and an impossible to follow plot line. Why does life have to be so complicated all the time? Why can I never decide what I want? Why can I never remember which day the binman comes?

Always questions, never answers. I need either a crystal ball or a time machine. If I had either, perhaps I would never have gotten myself into my current situation. But here I am, forced to have "The Talk". The last resort that actually, if I'm honest with myself, should have been the first.

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I was sat at my computer last week trying to put off starting an essay for uni when Toni called to ask if I fancied covering the L word convention that weekend in Blackpool. After thinking long and hard about it, for a whole 3 seconds, I eagerly agreed and started planning for the weekend ahead, trawling websites, fishing out back series of the show and phoning everyone possible to share my excitement.

We sat down to our weekly meeting and after hearing Steph was learning to snowboard and Lu was covering the L3 event I was excited to find out what I'd be doing. The excitement soon faded when I was told I'd be spending the week drinking my own urine, excuse the pun, but what a piss take!

Having recently recovered from a heavy session of colonic irrigation and watched in astonishment as the sewage flowed out of me, I was amazed to hear how some people are actually willing to put that very same sewage back in them.

We all know that as a group the "Lesbian Image" takes quite a battering from time to time. We are stereotyped often and unattractively as the checked shirt wearing, un-stylish, burn-our-bra-uber-feminists of urban legend. What a terrifying vision we must sound to those pre-pubescent hetero girls who are warned of a lonely GHD free fate by the cautious mothers of Middle England.

Anyone who has walked into a Lesbian Bar knows that this is untrue, and that in actual fact we are as much the slaves of fashion and the myths of what is considered to be "hot" as our gay male counterparts. This being the case I've recently become overly concerned with my own image, and more specifically the dreaded issue of weight!

Last month I experienced a new emotion, guilt! It was brought on by one of those "I think there was a restaurant, I'm pretty sure there was a nightclub, I know there was wine" nights.

I will spare you the gory details, the basics; she is a straight friend who got very drunk and is in a long term relationship. I would like to point out in my defense I don't normally hook up with friends, I have the alcohol tolerance of a 6 year old child, she made the first move and finally your honor, she is hot! Also, it was a straight club, so it's not like I had other options available to me that night.

During a recent conversation with a friend it came to my attention that unlike most lesbians I know I have never been stalked, or stalked anyone. Now to the majority of you this might seem a good thing, but I feel like I’m missing out on something distinctly Dykey. After all, what self respecting gay girl has not sent / received 100 desperate texts in one day, or suffered / inflicted numerous needy Facebook messages from that random one night stand you had way back in April. Isn’t it understandable why I feel I’m missing out on the action?

Due to some recent relationship developments, I realised that I have dated a lot of straight girls. Straight girls fucking love me. I don't really get why, and haven't exactly questioned it until now. Whatever pattern of dating straight girls I seem to be into hasn't exactly worked out in my favour. So, because I have obviously not had any part in the demise of my relationships, I decided to write an open letter to straight girls.

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not, She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not! It's always nice to be told that someone loves you, right?

Recently whilst travailing on the train I was forced to cower in the corner with my face firmly hidden in a fellow commuters shoulder. The reason for my sudden attack of shyness was due to spotting a girl who I had drunkenly declared my love for about four years ago.