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

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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