THAT kiss between Todd and Nick in Coronation Street this week turned my stomach. Not because I have any objection to homosexual storylines, but because it came out of nowhere.

This, like the multiple murders, cocaine-addicted prostitutes, violent rapes and other shocking storylines our children are exposed to nightly on TV soaps, is just another cheap attempt to grab more viewers.

Todd is not the only one left feeling confused. He has shown no signs of doubting his sexuality before, and suddenly claiming he'd been Billy No Mates at school simply doesn't provide enough evidence.

The scriptwriters are clearly running out of storylines. I wonder if they read the news report this week about the controversial study that claims it is possible to turn gay people straight through psychotherapy? (I am not making this up.) Clearly desperate for headline-grabbing ideas, this could be just what they're looking for.

Todd, trying to make up with Sarah, contacts a psychotherapist in an attempt to revert back to heterosexuality. But his appointment card, mixed up in the post, goes to Jack Duckworth, who thinks he has won some free treatment in a competition. But it works in reverse and turns Jack gay. So he makes a pass at Les Battersby in the Rovers. Meanwhile, Vera turns up at the clinic to have it out with the specialist who has ruined her Jack. But she finds him lying in a pool of blood. She picks up a knife from the floor. Just then, the police arrive... Remember, you read it here first...

AS the mother of two adorable little boys who provide living proof of just how unreliable many of our contraceptive methods are, and married to a man who practically faints when the word "vasectomy" is mentioned, I had high hopes when I heard about the 100 per cent risk-free male pill this week. But then I found out men would have to have quarterly injections. What? Have their delicate skin pricked by a needle? The researchers clearly haven't taken into account the fact most men are wimps. Back to the drawing board I think.

THE High Court judgement last week against the two women who applied for the chance to make babies out of their frozen embryos split the nation. Their sad faces all over the front pages tugged at the heartstrings. But then I saw one of them interviewed, clutching the baby clothes she had bought. "I swear on my embryos' lives," she said at one point. Was she asking us to believe that an embryo was as precious to her as a baby? But surely anyone who has up to 12 frozen embryos stored away doesn't plan to carry all of them to term? Inevitably, she must be prepared to dispose of some. Her former partner was depicted as heartless because he wanted to dispose of all of them. But isn't it just a question of scale?

JAMES Dyson has come up with a new robotic vacuum cleaner which, when it goes wrong, can "talk" to a call centre about its problems if you hold the telephone receiver near its speaker. As it is, all too often I have to queue up to use our phone - if it's not one of the boys chatting to a friend, another's on the Internet or their dad's sending emails. Now am I going to have to wait because the vacuum cleaner is on the line to its local support group complaining that it is being over-worked?