Bloody hell, Meryl. What greater love hath no woman, really, that she should don a frock and heels for her friend, write a poem. My god, I’m nauseous with gratitude! It may, in fact, be guilt, because I know I did ask. I’m so sorry. Thank you so much.

It’s such a cold night, you know, it’s the only time I’ve been actively grateful for the menopause. There have been moments when I’ve been entirely comfortable. And then they pass.

My dears, what an extraordinary night. Oh yes, I was in a film, I forgot! I’m surrounded by all these amazing people. Oh, Ryan Coogler, I’ll pinch you if you still feel like you’re dreaming. I’ll take you aside and pinch you.

You mustn’t forget that us old people really love to be surrounded by the young. It’s so exciting. There you are, taking over. Hah hah - good luck!

Um, I’m sure I had something to say, but I’ve been rather scuppered by Miss Streep’s extraordinary gift to me. Normally on occasions like this I like to complain, loudly and at length, about the dearth of roles for women, but actually this year they seem to have behaved like buses in London, where you wait for hours for the right one, and then suddenly seventeen come along at once. And so it has been. You know, Meryl and Julia and Octavia and Lea and the Kates, both Blanchett and Winslet, it’s been an extraordinary year for women’s roles.

I can’t think what gave me the edge; it must have been the perm. Which was a great sacrifice; it meant no sex, of course, for months on end. And then only with animal noises accompanying it.

I’d like to thank Kelly Marcel for writing someone so relentlessly unpleasant. Actually, it was an artistic chance to let out my real and true inner self. It was such bliss torturing all those young men, and I include Hanks, obviously, in that category. He’s always looked like he needed a good smack.

And Alison Owen, who produced a film about a 60-year-old woman which wasn’t about her being a wife or a mother. When does that happen? Never. Extraordinary.

And, of course, John Lee Hancock, who corralled a group of actors who would literally sell their internal organs to get the laugh. We would do anything to get a laugh, and he managed to make us look quite poignant in the end, which was extraordinary, I thought.

The NBR, thank you so much. And thank you again, Meryl. That was an amazing experience. I’ve taken my heels off as a feminist statement really, because why do we wear them? They’re so painful. And pointless, really. You know, I really would like to urge everyone to stop it. Just stop it. Don’t wear them anymore. You just can’t walk in them, and I’m so comfortable now.

But much love to you all. Thank you so very much. (x)