One problem with globalisation is that bad ideas seem to travel faster than good ones; first there was smearing tomato ketchup on everything; then drinking sugar-soaked cocktails ('Cosmo'-politanism) instead of our traditional whisky soda, and now this idea that we should abandon the poor to their fate in order to protect their dignity.

You know, you really can't beat a household commodity - the ketchup bottle on the kitchen table.

I was a math whiz who stunk at English, so of course I wanted to be a writer more than anything in the world. I performed impromptu plays for my grandmother's sewing circle but forced my little sister to ask for ketchup at McDonald's.

I don't think I'm a style icon, not at all. Sometimes I just want to rock out in me scruffs and me Uggs. You know, a really comfy old tracksuit with maybe a dollop of ketchup down the front.

My first job was as a waitress, and I waitressed for a long, long time. I was a very bad waitress. I didn't care if people had ketchup or if they were allergic to fish. It really didn't bother me either way. I didn't care. I was bad, but it was a good way to make money. And it's a fun job if you are working with fun people.

I've always waitressed between roles. When 'Black Mirror' was on, I was still flipping burgers. Customers would recognise me while asking for extra ketchup, which was pretty embarrassing.

Usually, turkey burger recipes result in something so lifeless and tasteless that drowning one in ketchup (that most perfect and delicious of condiments) doesn't help much. Part of the problem is calling this food a 'burger' at all, because it's never going to satisfy the way juicy, salty, medium-rare beef will.

The fashion industry isn't merely content to encase my meaty flanks in skintight denim. Oh, no! That denim also has to be white, a color that attracts ketchup, wine, garlic aioli, and any other foodstuffs I might otherwise be able to enjoy if I wasn't wearing ridiculously tight pants.