Yesterday, 23rd Oct, I suffered a severe cognitive episode which left me wandering the streets in a fugue for several hours. On the bright side, I took over 33,000 steps and covered 27.4 km. On the down side, I caused a lot of fear and worry amongst my loved ones… especially my
From the moment they erupted into existence, Left and Right hated each other. The only thing they hated more than each other was their jail on the chest of their host. They despised being forced to co-exist. Left was slightly larger, Right slightly perkier. Left hogged the bra, Right hogged the attention.
Twenty years ago, David and I were completely unaware of issues relating to gay rights unless they affected us directly. We were young and in love, and although we knew that large segments of society were railing against our form of relationship, we didn’t care. It was almost a hedonistic, insular approach
The Australian plebiscite on same-sex marriage is the result of the Americanisation of Australia… an Australia struggling to separate Church from State to become a truly secular country. When I was younger, Australia felt like a progressive, open-minded place. We had nudity in films and on TV. Everyone was given a ‘fair go’,
Let’s do it… let’s shove that genie back into the bottle But can we? These days, nothing can be completely undone. No action goes unrecorded. No data is irrecoverably deleted. Every movement leaves a trace. Smoke and mirrors cast shadows. This particular genie had paid out generously, when first released from his
On the 2nd of May, 2016, your lawyers, Thynne MaCartney, sent us a ‘Concerns Notice’ as preamble to a defamation lawsuit in which you made several demands, including: unpublish our article, in which we outline our experiences dealing with Aurora Property Management as tenants of the Arbour on Grey unpublish our article,
Artemis couldn’t get comfortable. The ivy itched, the night air was too cold, and a friendly beetle wasn’t taking the hint. Something promised to be easy was turning out to be hard. Artemis closed his eyes. Three, two, one, then looked around. Nothing had changed, except now the beetle had brought friends.
I sat with my back to the girl in labour. Of course, at my age, anyone younger than twenty harvests is considered to be a girl. I could hear her screams, her panting. I could hear the midwife reassuring her, telling her to push. I could hear the girl cursing and swearing,
You hold my heart in your hands You didn’t choose to, I gave it to you My heart is yours, for you to do as you will You hold my heart in your hands Don’t squeeze it, and please don’t tease it My heart is yours, for the tears you’ve spilled You
Get out! The sticky message oozed down my freshly painted kitchen wall, blood contrasting nicely with the daffodil yellow I’d chosen at Bunnings. I placed the paint roller into the tray and stepped back, frustrated and shocked. The reason for my frustration? The wall was still wet. The reason for my shock?
Most of the time, the machines hiss and wheeze like my old man smoking his way through yet another pack. Even in my dreams they were are never far away. I remember this dream once of duelling seagulls, one hissing, the other wheezing with pumped-up gusto, as they bowed, hopped ten paces,
Everything I’ve ever said a lie, except those bits which were extremely true. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions, my intentions. Not figurative Hell, not small-h hell, that part is a lie for children. Proper Hell, the Hell of the Bible, the Hell where Beats lie in wait for