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Letting it all hang out

Are you watching your weight? I am. I’m looking at it right now, bulging out there in front of me – a little tootsie roll of tummy overlapping my jeans. All that festive feasting means that I’ll soon be able to apply for my plumber’s license.

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Love in the time of Covid

So, how did you mark Valentine’s Day this year? Maybe you had a rapid test together? No wonder it’s hard to keep romance alive when the most intimate thing you’ve done in the last few months is to take a nasal swab for each other.

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Covid Christmas

So, did Santa bring the presents you wanted? All I got for Christmas was Covid. It’s the gift that just keeps on giving. And yet I’d been so careful. At work I’d kept a mask welded to my face which read, simply, “Veiled Comment” and only ventured into supermarkets wearing a biohazard suit and an aqua lung.

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Present tense

I’m currently sobbing in a foetal ball. My condition? Severe P.P. – Prezzie Paranoia. With Santa already harnessing his reindeers, I still haven’t made any purchases. What to buy? It doesn’t help being a chronic dilly-dallier. When my headmaster told me I’d never amount to anything because I procrastinate too much, I replied? “Just you wait!”

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Oz-Catraz

I’ve never been so glad to see a horlicks and a hob nob. Why? Well, I’ve just got back to Britain after a two month Sydney lockdown. My Oz Odyssey felt like a time warp. Quarantining, mandatory mask wearing, social isolating…

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Wordplay is foreplay for females

There’s a lot to be said for celibacy and most of it begins with “Why me?”  I suppose there are worse things … like hepatitis and death. The pandemic has created a loneliness epidemic.  Many of my single girlfriends worry that, if they’re in an accident, nobody will be able to identify their bodies. They’ve become so famished for bodily contact they’re tempted to give themselves a strip search.

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Dirty little secrets

It’s time to talk about our dirty little secrets. And no, I’m not referring to your R-rated risqué bedroom repertoire, chewed fingernails or cat fur balls swept under the rug. No, I’m talking about your ecological misdemeanours.

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Life in the insular peninsular

I’m writing to you from my teenage bedroom… The David Bowie and Pink Floyd posters are still on the walls. My vinyl records remain stacked under the bed – Carole King, Carly Simon, Tubular Bells, Led Zeppelin et all. I’ve moved back home to The Shire from London for two months to celebrate my beloved Mum’s 90th birthday.

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Hotel Quarantine

Greetings from Oz-catraz! Which is what I’m calling my quarantine hotel in Sydney. I’ve just ticked off day eleven of a two week incarceration and the walls of hotel cell may soon need to be padded. Put it this way, I’ve started shaping my hotel towels into swans and other animal shapes.

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Strong Female Lead

This doco proves that dinosaurs still roam the earth. Strong Female Lead is succinct, powerful, well-paced + devastating.  One in three Australian women experience discrimination or harassment in the workplace. Australia’s first and only female prime minister, Julia Gillard, was one of them. A must watch for all Australians. 

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My books

Read at your own risqué

What do women really want in bed? Breakfast. Oh, and a good book.
If you’re looking for a funny, frivolous yet feisty new read, do slip between my covers. Satisfaction guaranteed.

My rogues gallery

The things I get up to when I should be writing….

I’ve added my fave pics of the people who are my human wonder bras – uplifting and supportive and make me look bigger and better. Plus the odd snap of me too. There may be a few faces you recognise – but nobody two-faced, that’s for sure.

One liners, wise cracks and witticisms

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