Freedom of Hate Speech Every time I hear people bang on about ‘Freedom of Speech’ I feel nauseous. Freedom of Speech never seems to me to have anything to do with freedom at all. When you hear people bleating on... Read More →
Just last week our prime minister suggested women’s advancement shouldn’t come at the expense of men. Not all men think like that. Some men are different. Men like my son who turned 18 on International Women’s Day.
When I was 16, a priest came to our parish for a short stay, and he quickly made himself known to my mother. It was only a matter of weeks before he became a regular at our house.
Strap yourselves in, sexist dinosaurs, feminism is going viral. It used to just be a small group of us angry women with hairy legs who couldn’t get a bloke (well that’s what you said about us when we got mouthy and wouldn’t root you).
With a state election in March and a federal election later this year, climate-change reform should be the primary platform of every party. After all if climate change makes the earth uninhabitable you are going to lose a lot of voters.
There is something quite beautiful about a love letter. The outpourings of one person’s heart for another, captured in fragile script, scrawled nervously across the page.
There’s a woman in Byron who sleeps on the streets. I first saw her when I was going to get my nails done at a nearby beautician. The irony didn’t escape me. Two women, two very different lives.
Today I checked out Tyagarah’s newly appointed clothing-optional beach: 800 metres of beach where people can legally swim, stroll, sunbake, and even play volleyball in the buff. Of course they can also wear pants. That’s what ‘optional’ means.
The day that everyone is so hell bent on defending as Australia Day marks British Rule. It should be called ‘Empire Day’.
When I was five I got a pony for Christmas. There wasn’t a lot of magic in my early childhood. So the morning I woke to the sight of a brown-and-white pony tied to our front gate stands out as this moment of wonder.
Last week two women made history in India as the first women to enter a Hindu temple in Kerala after the Supreme Court in India lifted a ban on women entering the Sabarimala Temple.
Not everyone loves Picasso’s Weeping Woman. But it is without a doubt an important and incredible painting. Our sculpture is not a Weeping Woman. It’s a creeping catastrophe. So what are we going to do about it? Grow vines? Wrap it up like a Christo?
Years ago women’s magazines delivered the exciting news that we ladies have a G spot. While some conspiracists believed the elusive G was concocted by aforementioned media to sell magazines and G spot-seeking products, there are many of us who... Read More →
I love a dick joke. But a $52K one? Well it better be a doozy. And it is! Thank you, Byron Council! You have kept me in dick jokes for the next decade… or should I say Dickade?! I LOVE the new sculptural cock up!
It’s been a while since I last took illicit drugs but I do remember it was fun. A lot of fun. Unacceptable fun. That’s the point of taking drugs isn’t it?
Women & Children First: The Liberal Party Guide on How to Kick the Poor One of the privileges of being a conservative government is the joy of kicking people when they’re down. Not rich people, silly! Poor people. They’re great... Read More →
‘What is it about women that makes some men so violent?’ This was the question posed by a letter to the editor in The Echo last week. The letter appeared the very same week as White Ribbon Day – the... Read More →
I once had this dream. I was a small child in a forest of giant trees. It was a dark and scary place. I was lost and weeping. I was totally alone. Then I felt the branches of a tree reach around and envelop me. I wondered if it was going to kill me. But the tree just held me.
It’s hard to ignore the sentiment of how little systemic care there is in regards to the death of women. That would be like nearly two people killed a week by sharks. No-one would go into the ocean. Sharks would be hunted down.
Yep, a new study from the University of Cardiff has found that women who use Botox are less likely to reach or experience an orgasm to their fullest satisfaction! And no, it’s not because the paralysing toxin has travelled from your forehead to your G spot.
I don’t get the Australian fascination with the royal family. The national spectacle of crowds fawning over Harry and Meghan seems to be in direct opposition with what I thought it meant to be Australian.
The other day I realised that whenever I talk or write about mental health or people with lived experience that I talk about it as ‘other’. Like people with mental health issues are not me.
Every time I start a conversation about inappropriate development in Byron I hear the same tired refrain. ‘Byron’s fucked anyway.’ This is based on the belief that it used to be good but now it’s not.
Last week someone, let’s say a man, on social media called me a bogan. And a cunt. It was meant to shame me. To humiliate me. To put me in my place. To remind me that not only am I... Read More →
What a strange world we have created. Or should I say ‘stuffed up’. We’re overstuffed. Stuff on sale. Stuff arriving at your door. Stuff floating out to sea. Stuff breaking down into nanoparticles and going into fish that we end up eating.