For the past week I have had the troubling sensation of feeling there is a hair in my mouth. Curled around my lip and into the cavernous vortex of my gob, a rogue follicle is rakishly entangling itself in my food until the moment of mastication when it detaches, like a lover who's just heard… Continue reading Groundhog Daze: Mary, Mary, surprisingly hairy, how does your moustache grow?
I always imagined that if I was cast away on a desert island, I would relish being away from the misogynistic undertones of mascara. Coveting a voluminous fan of long eyelashes - while a functional and beneficial accessory on a windswept and sandy isle - I know is a latent hangover from patriarchy of the… Continue reading Day 9: Putting on mascara now constitutes a task on my to-do list
I find myself looking forward to random people's morning stories. Hah, call my sleep-deprived but that reads as morning glory to me and I am at the stage of housebound, recycled-air inhalation insanity which makes that veeeeeeeeeery funny. Anyway. Pretending I'm not a nine-year-old boy who's just had his first erection - I follow one… Continue reading Day Four/Five: The cesspool of social media has me drowning