Women. Daft little things, aren't they? Sweet enough, an' all, but they can hardly be trusted to programme the video recorder, let alone navigate that big scary Internet all by themselves. Thank god, then, for women's portals, which slice the Net up into handy little lady-sized chunks.

Yeah right. And I'm choking on them. Nothing makes my gorge rise quite so quick as being told that, because I have a clit, I also have a desperate interest in aromatherapy, babies and 'looking good, feeling great!' Well, apart from the assumption that, just because I have a clit, I'm little more than a walking credit card with a person attached.

Women's portals offer News! and Shopping! across a sprawl of 'channels' with names like 'nuture', 'grow', 'look good', 'nest'.

Fuck knows why women need a special portal to bring their news to them while men can boldly hunt and gather theirs from finance, news and sports sites. I guess it's because women are delicate little things who might get lost wandering in cyberspace with no one to hold their hand.

Thing is, the Net's not about hand-holding. It works best if you know what you really, really want. There's far more governing our likes and dislikes than whether we own a clit or a dick.

Enjoy cooking in a fifties apron and drinking from thrifted highball glasses? Look up outofthefryingpan.com. Worried about that strange rash on your bum? Visit prematuree.com.

Or... are you into bland, homogenous, generalised websites, devoid of style, wit and humour? Then you need a women's portal, mate. And some help. Whatever sex you are.

by Soph