• An adequate mother,  I'm not 'special',  Lady stuff,  parenting

    With All Seriousness

    ‘You’re a mum now Lou’ my friend informed me as I sat before her, tea in hand, despair draping my face. ‘You’re going to have to learn to deal with it.’ I silently opened a packet of Teddy Bear biscuits as she continued. ‘You’re just won’t be able to be funny anymore. Happens to the best of us. I use to be fucking Conan O’Brien till I had kids. Now everything I say comes across as if I’m giving a speech at the Hague.’ And just like that, she had confirmed my deepest fears – that now I’m a mum, everything I say and do will forever be read and…

  • An adequate mother,  To whom it concerns...

    Where’s My Murphy Brown?

      Last week as I wandered the streets looking for purpose, I overheard a woman and her friend bemoan the current state of television. ‘I miss family shows you know? Like, The Cosby Show and Hey Dad.’ Her friend nodded in agreement as if she too had been stuck down a mine shaft with her companion for the last three years… I watched as they continued on their way, no doubt going home to old VHS recordings of The Jimmy Savile and Rolf Harris Variety Hour while eating Subway sandwiches. Nostalgia can be a powerful thing. It makes us reflect on more ‘wholesome’ times, even if most of the time we…

  • Lady stuff

    Give So I May Brunch

    Dear Reader,  It’s not often I ask for help. I’ve never been very good at it, what with being a lone-wolf, renegade adventurer, blogger.  But today I out to my friends, I can call you that right? You see, the other day I went for brunch, dressed in clothes that I would come to realise, could also function as a cloak of invisibility. As I entered the well-lit inner city café/bookstore/ carb intervention centre, for a moment I thought perhaps I’d made a mistake and fallen upon the sign in booth at the start of a triathlon or at the very least, a competitive Mother’s Day power walk.  For as far…

  • Uncategorized

    It’s been 132 days since my last diet.

    After over two decades of being on a diet, yep 20 years and I’m only 35 (I could’ve raised a teenager in that time, or at least two primary school aged kids), quitting dieting is like deciding to stop brushing your teeth. It’s gross and there was the chance that giving up on brushing my teeth, like not dieting might also make me less desirable. I mean if I wasn’t lemon detoxing I wasn’t living. That makes me come across like a superficial bitch but you’ve got to understand, for years I’ve seen myself as one of those women that come across like they might be on a diet, could…

  • Uncategorized

    I’ve dated a Trans Person. A lot of us have.

    ‘….our identity is a sum of our parts, not just one part in particular.’ I’m not Trans. I can’t speak to that experience. So I won’t. What I will speak with is the experience of someone who was once in a relationship with a Trans Man. Some people know about this, some people don’t. I always felt uncomfortable talking about my experience, thinking that in doing so I was revealing something that wasn’t mine to do, so much so that when I did a show about this particular relationship back in 2009 I didn’t mention it. I was really into prop comedy at the time anyway. I argued it wasn’t important…

  • Lady stuff

    I’d F**k A Funny Woman Any Day.

    I find women funnier. I just do. There, it’s said. It’s out there. For years I’ve taken a diplomatic stance – funny is funny no matter what the gender, no matter who is telling the joke, but who was I kidding, give me an Amy over an Arj any day. Now by no means is that meant to be taken as a disparaging comment on the Arj’s of the world, it’s just that my pen is inked from a different well, um, a well of ladies. I was born this way. From the moment I came into the world, as my mother looked at my tanned skin and joked between puffs ‘oh look, she’s nicotine stained’…it…

  • To whom it concerns...

    It’s a Straight Issue.

    ‘As far as I’m concerned, everyone – gay or straight –  has the right to be as unsure and skeptical of the institution of marriage as I am.’ I watch wedding shows. Heaps. Say Yes to the Dress, Four Weddings, anything with David Tutera in it. I watch them to see how the other half live. They’re my version of Animal Planet. When a bride turns to camera to share with us that they’ve dreamt about this day since they were a little girl that to me is the same as David Attenborough telling me that male Koalas have two penises. WFT? Mind blown! Really? And there is where I…

  • To whom it concerns...

    Being fat in the ’90s.

    I was fat. See this photo. In this photo what you see here is me, sitting, being fat. I was probably being funny too, cause that’s what fat girls do best, funny. You can’t see it, but I reckon everyone in the room was laughing at something I’d just said. Somebody probably peed his or her pants. So back to the photo and me being fat in it. I know I was fat because at the time this was taken I was constantly being picked on for my weight whether it be by ‘friends’ in the playground, or ‘friends’ of my parents commenting on my ‘full figure’ or my grandmother…

  • I'd read this if I was you

    I don’t think we can be Facebook friends anymore…

    Confiding in me over a hot chocolate in a small tucked away café a few days ago, my friend Agnes had barely touched her earl grey tea with a dash of cream and honey when she pouted and declared ‘I hate myself Lou, I just hate myself.’ I didn’t say anything, I knew there was more to come, there always was. ‘I just don’t understand why you can’t just be born the way you want to end up?’ ‘You are asking an awful lot from the universe’ I surmised as I eyed off a marshmallow that wasn’t mine, but had been left on a nearby table. ‘No Lou, I don’t…

  • I'd read this if I was you

    Even if you looked like a man I wouldn’t touch you like that…

    Leaving a friends birthday party with a close friend of mine, a rather cute man confronted me, a gay man but still cute in a way I could appreciate. He asked me if I could light his fire, we giggled, I battered my eyelids, my friend rolled her eyes, lit his cigarette and proclaimed ‘oh for fuck’s sake Lou, he sucks cock!’ Fair point. I waited in the cold, looking for a cab as my friend finished her ciggie, making idle chit chat with my newfound man friend when he asked how long my friend and I had been dating. I laughed, warming my hands in my pockets.’ We don’t…