Fucking Children

Around-about forty six days, nineteen hours, six minutes, and forty three seconds ago, my first significant relationship in a while ended. That heavily approximated yet pathetically accurate time-frame took three minutes to work out. I type at fifty words a minute- bashing away at my keyboard with my head down like a frustrated Beethoven- so … Continue reading Fucking Children

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Rant in C

This post must be prefaced by a confession that comes by way of an admission. I'm not an innocent within the realm of animal cruelty. When I was six, I had a dog named Magnum. He was this skinny, brown hybrid, and by ‘hybrid’, I mean: gorgeous, but dumb. Much like a high school P.E. … Continue reading Rant in C

Stairway to Hell

8am: I’m holding onto a vine, hanging from a mountain, covered in dirt, wondering what the fuck I’m doing with my life. The vine snaps and I slide through the mud. My boyfriend reflexively catches a strap on my grey Herschel backpack as I pass. This’ll be the second time he’s saved me. Or maybe … Continue reading Stairway to Hell

Traversing the Tinderverse

The Tinderverse is a bewildering flotsam of social media space junk. The lost and the lewd, the peculiar and the promiscuous- they all hover uncertainly amidst Internet acronyms, unselfconsciously meta profiles, and enthusiastic emoticons. In my mind, Tinder embodies the Mos Eisley cantina from Star Wars: a quagmire of freaks, all killing time in between … Continue reading Traversing the Tinderverse

Trawling Tinder

I've never had a good experience on Tinder. And yet, like a woman trapped in a co-dependant union, I keep going back. Because Tinder is fucking hilarious. Pockets of humanity lurk on there and trawling Tinder freaks has become a perfectly acceptable way to spend my weekend. He Gives Good Head Take this guy: Check out … Continue reading Trawling Tinder

A Shitty Thing to Write About

It was a bus shelter empanada that made me break that bathroom in Cartagena. Three hours before consuming it, I was in a seedy cantina with my new friend, Atlanta: an ex-army medic and survivor of the Fort Hood massacre. Atlanta’s PTSD had pushed him to the north east of Colombia where he volunteered at … Continue reading A Shitty Thing to Write About

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Forehead

I’m getting dumber as I age, because in my 33rd year on this planet, I decided that it was time to inject poison into my head. Botox. God knows why. It was largely curiosity, which appears to be the driving force behind my every impetuous decision. And you should know that the word ‘largely’ is … Continue reading Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Forehead

Cropdusting Hipsters

It all started when I farted in yoga. It happened once, twice, three times a lady flatulist. Not many girls own up to a fart, so at first I pretended that the pop was simply a wayward hip joint being wrenched from its socket like a newly-weaned, puppy farm kelpie. It kept happening though: every class I'd cropdust … Continue reading Cropdusting Hipsters

Fleurgen the Stereo Muppet

Six months ago I bought an $800 car- a dusty red Charade manufactured back when Paul Keating was Prime Minister. I dubiously christened her “Cherry Bomb”. She was bought from a fellow in Darlington. From there, Cherry travelled nine kilometres before having a hot flush and overheating on a busy road, ultimately forcing me to … Continue reading Fleurgen the Stereo Muppet

A Post About a Threesome…

Ha! I've busted you, you perverted little sausage. This isn't a story about a threesome at all. I've told a lie in a blatant ploy for attention that stops just shy of 'tawdry' by my omission of the word "lesbian". My salacious title is just pandering to the voyeur in all of us. It's my … Continue reading A Post About a Threesome…