This is what a man looks like. Apparently.

And according to the nation’s prison service. Because a man’s prison, in Bristol, oddly and coincidentally enough, was where Tara Hudson was sentenced for 12 weeks for an assault charge after headbutting a barman. Ok, not a very ladylike thing to do but she was provoked.

The prison service decided on HM Prison for boys because Tara was born a boy. And you go to prison dependent on your birth certificate. I mean, how fucking 1957 is that? Just because you’re born male, or female, doesn’t mean that’s how you’ll end up. There’s nothing in the statutes to say that some degree of common sense might be useful in such circumstances.

And in the very week that Her Holy of Aussieness, Germaine Greer, pioneering feminist and loud-mouthed Antipodean, declared that transgender ‘women’, like Tara, are not ever actually ‘women’. They’re just men without dicks. I don’t know what you’d call that.

What I do know is that generally women are more dangerous than men. More vicious. More deadly than the male. So if you couple that degree of danger with masculine strength, you have something really to be scared of. And that fear is in no way diminished by adding a pair of double Ds to your chest.

Tara was moved to a woman’s prison on the weekend. For the safety of the men in HMP Bristol.

Meanwhile, back at White Hart Lane, Spurs go marching on. Another bottom 6 team, another 6 points. I think Arsenal at the Emirates on Sunday may prove to be a little more testing.

And I hope we can pass that test. But my life is built upon hope. Which is a bit like building a skyscraper on quicksand, where football is concerned.

Spurs ‘breezed’ past bottom-of-the-table Aston Villa in a way that was not as breezy as I’d have liked, as I sat there in panic mode for all of the second half watching my team degenerate into lacklustre, lazy, complacent and ever more disorganised at the back as the half progressed. It was Stoke all over again. Get a 2 goal lead and slip into ‘job done’ mode. Fortunately, Villa are so bad they couldn’t equalise, as Stoke did in the same situation. And right at the very end, the denouement, the coup de gras; Harry Kane scored a fantastic goal after a super move. To make the scoreline look comfortable, which it really really wasn’t. And to let everyone go away smiling and happy.

Because we could forget the preceding 45 minutes on the back of that super-slick goal. My advice to my team: FUCKING CONCENTRATE!!!!! The game is 90 minutes long, playing great for 23 of them is seldom enough.

Ahhh happy days,

A xxxx