You always know when the day we’ve chosen to exalt our wide brown colonised country is near. Social media profile pics will be appropriately framed. Some with the British; red, white, and blue. Others the Aboriginal; black, red, and yellow. The odd car will be seen donned with a small flag of the same palette. One on the antenna, two atop the roof rack. Signs will begin to appear on roadsides advertising community events. Some, where colonial descendants and immigrants can celebrate their collective pride in this their great multicultural nation. …
It was an inauguration a long time in the making, and not just for the long-suffering citizens of the United States, but for the whole wide world. For years now they had seen their daily lives and local news channels constantly interrupted by insane tweets and images of a flabby old white dude who had a weird obsession with donning swimming goggles and sticking his face in a saffron-infused tincture (for reasons we’ll never really know).
As the day approached anticipation hung in the air; wet and palpable like hope made heavy with anxiety. Oh, how we longed to get…
Once upon a time, in a land that is now thankfully far, far away, I fell head over heels in like with a fat little bald man who took me for a ride. Why? — Because he could.
I say like because, as adorable and sweet as he seemed, it really wasn’t love. Something was off. But for reasons I am now both aware and ashamed of, I didn’t want it to be. …
After a solid week or so of filtering relentless male rage and mounting misogyny, I feel inspired to write a piece calling out one of the biggest problems we face in the developed world today. Conservative White Men.
That’s it. You can all go home now. Thank you for reading. Feel free to buy me a coffee… or a glass of wine to calm my frayed feminist nerves. Or a puppy. A puppy would do.
I mean, really, I could make this a short-form piece and end it right there; the biggest problem we face in the world today is…
“The world is a filthy mass of coal dust and carbon emissions,” you say?
“Why yes, yes it is,” is my response — a response that is echoed by billions and one that should always include “how about we fix it?”
Now that’s a great question. But are you genuinely interested in the answer? Or are you looking to find fault with every possible solution? “What about the batteries?” “What about the turbines?” “What about the birds, the fish, the land?”
I’m a solution-oriented person. Thankfully I’m not the only one or we’d still be staring at rocks not realising…
Oh, America. America. If I thought you deserved it I’d beseech a god to shed its grace on thee. But, as I awoke to the entirely anticipated images of white, outraged, and rights-obsessed males storming Congress I’ve come to the conclusion that the gods are disinclined to acquiesce to that request (means no). And rightly so. It’s been such a long time coming.
America truly is a beautiful land. Beautiful, for its spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesty. …
I’m living in a pandemic lockdown with my ex. What started as a summer holiday became an endless reminder of why we divorced in the first place. We’ve played together now for 31 long years — one of them dating, 20 of them married, and 10 amicably divorced. Why is my eye twitching as I write this? Seriously, the whole thing has been a rollercoaster ride, a daytime soap, a Shakespearean tragedy played out on a stage surrounded by an enthralled and often perplexed audience.
It must be said, for the benefit of all who marvel at my expert portrayal…
A day in the life of women…
Man: This post is sexist. What about men? Their voices should be heard.
Me: You should definitely join in a discussion about that…
Navel Gazer | Feminist | Urban Agriculturalist | Sweating the little things. Follow me at https://www.facebook.com/thiswomxn/