It's a small world after all

A man came this morning to put together a BBQ I recently purchased. He was very talkative. I found this a bit unnerving, considering how shy and delicate I am, especially when around men who put things together.

He told my partner he was a girl for putting away the washing.
He winked at me, and I suspected he was thinking "if she were a few years younger and had longer hair, and maybe a more fullsome bust..."

We parted, neither of us having grown any. Which is a shame, because I am sure there were many bridges we could have built had we had more time.

Perhaps when I am old, I will wear purple, and build bridges with those who in another context and with a few litres of beer in them, would commit an act of mild sexual violance against me.

The Sutured Pomegranate

Ripe, bulbous fruit
Loin chops
String beans

Her life laid out
In Murray River Salt

Where was her pomegranate
When she needed it most?
Swallowed by the pork belly

Yipee Yi Yay
Yipee Yi Yay

DENUDISTS and other hairy prejudices

We are hearing alot about the scourge of the Brazillian and how it is close to wiping out a whole generation's collective awareness of THE LADY MANE.

Where once the hairless pussy was an obscure and exotic breed, featured as a side-show in various versions of CATS OF THE WORLD almanacs, she is now as common as the tabby. Long haired breeds are considered to be a rarity among the young, perhaps even close to extinction, if you listen to some VERY UPSET FOLK.

All this talk of the HAIRLESS BEAST has ignored an equally pressing issue: ingrown hairs. Once again society is mislead by the assumption that the DENUDED FOREST is actually a smooth, clean, landscape. Instead TOO MANY women are being short-changed by the reality of the INGROWN HAIR and its relentless proliferation.

Rather than a community of shiny laminex-like LADY PARTS, we're just as likely to see equal numbers of spotted INGROWN VISTAS.

Why have the women who are plagued by the spotty pubis been silenced by their smoother, less viscous sisters?

Patriarchy anyone?

Essence of Woman

My water main was switched off while i was away, presumably by some very alert folk who realised that the dripping tap at the front of my house was a Hazard to our Melbourne Way-Of-Life.

I've had to leave the water off while I wait for a plumber. This has helped me explore my developing nation persona. I was forced to scrape the dregs from the coffee pot this morning, sans fluid, my toilet is a urine swamp, my hands have become havens for disease.

As for the cushion of love. So fruity, so pungent. This experience has made me realise that no matter how much we recognise difference, there will always be an essential woman. A small moment in my day, bringing me closer to the goddess, and her pungent beneficence.