Guest Blog: Madonna

THE most awesome thing about living in the United Kingdom of England is that I can take a gentle stroll down to my local pub, The Aunt Bessie, accompanied only by my entourage of porn dwarfs, pubic hair weavers and, of course, Nimbus, the big black rabbit with red eyes, who follows me wherever I go.

It means almost nothing to me that I'm a living legend. I've been in the business nearly 30 years – and, apart from the vast army of stylists, publicists, producers, songwriters and musicians – I've done it all without anyone else's help.

I went to visit my hubby on the set of his latest movie yesterday. It's a gritty, 45-second vignette set in a supermarket, featuring soccer pundit Alan Hansen and the Irish singer, Lulululu. Alan's character wheels his trolley around the tinned vegetable isle and bumps into Lulululu, where they strike up a short discussion about the two-for-one offer on McCain Oven Chips and the one third-off all Sarah Lee desserts. It's going to be awesome.

I'm scheduled to appear on the Jonathan Ross Show next week, and I've already specified the subjects I'm prepared to talk about, including pony yoga, urine home brewing, box jellyfish farming and my latest children's book. It's set in turbulent 1970s Britain, where an ant eater called Vince wins an apprenticeship to work as a toolmaker for British Leyland, but his dream is shattered when he's sacked for breaching health and safety regulations after his pal, Sidney the Squirrel, loses his tail in an industrial accident. It's kind of a cautionary tale, with very graphic pictures.

Fitness has always been top of my agenda – a fit body is a fit mind, and means I'm able to crush walnuts with my labia. Last week was extra special because it marked the first session I had with my new personal trainer, ex-Olympic shot-putter, English police copper bobby and budgie fancier, Geoff Capes. I first saw Geoff on The World's Strongest Man and I knew then that I too had to pull trucks with my teeth.

The doctors say my dislocated jaw will take about 14 weeks to heal and although I am restricted to liquids, I have been given the all clear to continue rehearsals. Rest assured, the Aluminium Vulva Tour will go ahead as planned. Praise be to Saint Kaballah!

As told to Matt Owen