NADINE DORRIES: Why there's nothing so delicious - or dangerous - as a WhatsApp group. And I'm in 40!

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It’s an obsession – and I know I’m not alone. The first thing I do every morning is open my phone and check a bewildering multitude of WhatsApp groups, threads and texts.

I’m in dozens of them, some silly, some very serious indeed.

They’re addictive – and they matter. WhatsApp can dictate the whole direction of my day.

I’m in so many chats – 40 live groups at the last count – I have to ‘archive’ or hide some of them to stay sane.

I ration myself to peeking once a fortnight, just to check I’m not being talked about.

Don’t get me wrong, WhatsApp can be great. I’m in a 340-strong chat group for Cotswolds ladies, for example. If I need a plumber, a vintage handbag or a recommendation for a beautician, that’s my go-to place.

The group is about women supporting other busy women. It’s invaluable – WhatsApp at its best.

But it’s not always quite so helpful or supportive. Every day I see the full range of human foibles exposed on screen in front of me.

Take, for example, the ‘stropper’. Often found on chats set up by family members or close friends, the stropper is the person who takes offence at the slightest criticism, leaves the group and is then re-added – usually by their mother – less than 24-hours later.

WhatsApp is so addictive it can dictate the whole direction of my day. I’m now in so many chats I have to ‘archive’, or hide, some of them to stay sane. I ration myself to peeking once a fortnight – just to check I’m not being talked about, writers Nadine Dorries 

Kemi Badenoch used a Conservative MPs’ group to intimidate a minister in the Johnson government – apparently, an attempt to persuade MPs to resign before midnight and increase the pressure on Boris to quit himself. ‘Resign,’ she wrote to one minister. ‘DO IT. DO IT. DO IT’

I have been that mother.

Then there’s the lurking ghost-like member. The first to read each post in a thread, the ‘ghost’ never comments unless they are forced to respond to the most basic of questions, such as: ‘Is 7pm OK for everyone to meet?’ When they do, the answer comes as a one-word response, typically ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. It’s as if they’ve never learned to type.

Or perhaps that criticism should be kept for the compulsive voice-noter.

Voice notes – as voice messages on WhatsApp are known – tend to begin with: ‘Hi guys, just a quickie, no time to type.’ As the average length of these voice notes is around seven-and-a-half minutes, I have no time to listen.

I’ve learned to play them back – complete with pregnant pauses and the sound of passing sirens – at double speed. It makes them less insufferable – just.

A particular bete noir is the misogynist authoritarian who likes to dominate a sports or community group, often establishing himself (and it’s always a him) as the administrator.

Apparently glued to his phone, he responds to every single comment – and at any time of night or day. But question what he posts at your peril. Free-thinking women will receive replies such as ‘stick to the day job’.

Yet men who comment will get a fist bump or a ‘well said’. The word ‘mate’ is also slipped into the conversation.

I’m amused by the London-based WhatsApps. Altogether different. These are filled with competitive Oxbridge-types desperately trying to impress spouting pseudo-intellectual babble. A double yawn for those.

Last week, after an afternoon at a well-known Cotswolds destination, a group of prominent ladies and I formed a new chat with a very different approach – and an outrageous, guy-related, subject heading. Much wine had been taken.

Every message in the chat makes me laugh like a drain. And no, dear reader, I won’t be sharing the details.

The group is mostly about fireside lunches in cosy pubs but they don’t spare my blushes – and it takes a lot to make me blush.

If groups like these remain an absolute joy, my time with the Conservative MPs’ WhatsApp was something else entirely.

I saw the worst of behaviours, from outright aggression to plain cowardice.

By the latter, I mean individuals you’d see furiously typing for 20 minutes, then bottle out of whatever they’d meant to say – before agreeing with the last person to have expressed an opinion.

Yet the Conservative MPs’ group had the potential to make history, and it did – which is where the aggression came in.

Take the time Kemi Badenoch used a late-night chat in the group to intimidate a minister in the Johnson government – apparently, an attempt to persuade MPs to resign before midnight and increase the pressure on Boris to quit himself. ‘Resign,’ she wrote to one minister. ‘DO IT. DO IT. DO IT.’

Others were told they would be removed from the group if they didn’t resign. I’m assuming the rationale was this: if MPs had the night to sleep on such a major decision, they might have woken the following morning, sober and, in the cold light of day, thought: ‘Hang on, taking down a popular prime minister late at night, this could lead to the Conservatives losing the next election.

‘It could result in a Left-wing Labour government inflicting untold harm on the nation. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea?’

The ultimate lesson is this: words have consequences.

WhatsApp chats can certainly be fun, but be careful how you go. They can be downright dangerous, too.

Beyonce’s F1 suit is the pits

Beyonce at the F1 Las Vegas Grand Prix in a Louis Vuitton leather racing suit snapped alongside Lewis Hamilton

Was anyone else puzzled by the photographs of Beyonce at the Las Vegas Grand Prix?

Arriving with husband Jay-Z, Beyonce’s figure-hugging Louis Vuitton leather racing suit was unzipped, but modestly so.

Things had taken a different turn by the time she was ready to be snapped alongside F1 racing driver Lewis Hamilton, however. Beyonce’s zipper was down almost to her waist, leaving little to the imagination.

Did this great unfastening occur before she got into a car with Lewis for a spin round the track at 200mph? Or after, when she was a little hot and bothered?

Either way, I’ve seen ladies of the night in Liverpool’s Upper Parliament Street show more decorum than some of today’s A-listers.

My heart bleeds for young lovers

Talking to a young postgraduate student at Sunday lunch, I learned how complex the world of dating is for young women now.

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It seems as if no one falls madly in love any more. After all, there might be someone better waiting on dating apps – and who wants to miss out?

This has brought a new category of relationship into play: ‘situationship’.

There are three stages in the new world of meeting men, I was told.

There’s the point at which you are dating but in no way ‘exclusively’, and you remain available on the apps.

Then there is ‘situationship’ where, it seems, you come off the apps but are not yet ‘exclusive’. One assumes this involves sleeping with other people and continuing to test the water.

To become actual boyfriend and girlfriend – and ‘exclusive’ – is a big deal and comparable to what in my day was known as getting engaged.

My heart bleeds for young lovers everywhere. Who’d want to be young and single today?

Can you spot a gay sheep? 

To make a point about diversity, someone thought it was a good idea to use the wool of ‘gay sheep’ at a New York fashion show.

Sailor suits and dressing gowns were featured on the catwalk.

How can you tell which sheep are gay was the first question to cross my mind - and yours, too, I’m sure.

Apparently, there are rams that refuse to mate with ewes and instead try it on with other rams.

Well, I’ve got big news for my dog, Teddy. I’ll break it to him gently. Teddy will try to hump anything as long as it not my female dog, Darcey.

There’s me thinking he was just a bit confused – and that Darcey was mildly intimidating.