WOMEN of Gwent, you are in the grip of an obsession.

I am now unable to turn on to social media sites without some disturbing description of bedroom acts which are probably still illegal in a number of US states.

The blame lies firmly with Fifty Shades of Grey - thank you E.L. James, for eliciting way too much information from people I would much rather think of in very different ways.

And this really does seem to be something which has spread like a middle-aged or soon-to-be middle-aged wildfire.

Women in their twenties are not posting status updates like: "Retiring to bath with Mr Grey...lol"

The reason? They are actually having sex. With men who don't have to trim their ear hair.

Between children, work and the reality of getting the groceries in, most women's sex lives in their thirties and forties resemble The Story Of O For Pity's Sake Mow The Lawn.

Now I cannot read such fiction for a very good reason.

Because within minutes, the Victoria Wood song The Ballad of Barry and Freda appears in my head, containing the line "beat me on the bottom with me Woman's Weekly".

There, I've shared it. It's like an earworm - eroticaworm, if you like.

Of course, the Fifty Shades phenomenon is merely another way of making sex masquerading as "literature" sell. After all, the marketplace is never going to flog us girls the joyless experience of male online porn.

And at least it doesn't tap into the sort of women's insecurities used by the skin cream industry, for example.

So expect much, much more of this stuff.

First there's the Fifty Shades books, then the forthcoming film, which will no doubt soon be followed by the weight loss video, Fifty Shades of Zumba, and branded grey-lined furry love cuffs.

Now I am sure all you savvy ladies out there would never fall for such an obvious attempt to get into your purses.

But if you are all knowingly looking upon this as playing along with some harmless form of titillation, just bear this in mind.

It is only a matter of time until you see your silver-haired mother reading something, innocently ask her "what's that?" and get this reply: "Fifty Shades of Wassname".

Well, it is being dubbed "mummy porn".

Step away from the Kobe reader now...

TRAGEDY plus time, they say, equals comedy.

So when David Cameron revealed that his eight-year-old daughter Nancy wants to be an Olympian - so that she can run after the family car if she is ever again left in the pub - you might have been tempted to have a giggle.

After all, at least he was at least making fun of himself, not launching another attack on a comedian.

The Prime Minister told an audience at Loughborough University: "My daughter said yesterday: 'Dad, when I grow up I want to be an Olympian'.

"I don't know what sport she's choosing - presumably if I leave her in the pub again the 100m to catch up with the car before it heads off into the distance.

Laugh now while you can, Mr C - soon, Nancy will be 13, know it all, think you are soooooo embarrassing and won't be able to wait to get away from you. You might well find she wants to take up the javelin.

WOMEN, said a Daily Telegraph story last week, may be able to give birth into old age following an ovary transplant breakthrough by Dr Sherman Silber, an American surgeon who has been involved in transplants for 11 women in St Louis.

The headline: Ovary transplant may end the menopause.

And there I was looking forward to mine.