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Feminism. Motherhood. Sex. Sarcasm.Whatever.
Liverpool Life with a Piss Poor Feminist
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When I grow up, I wanna be…
I’ve not blogged in ages, mainly because I am chronically aware of how my ramblings affect others these days. I am trying to be more mindful of not looking like a complete crank to the general public. I mean, I am a crank, but I don’t need to advertise my neurosis and chronic overthinking quite… Continue reading When I grow up, I wanna be…
Writer’s Block
In GCSE English, we spent a lot of time pouring over the Irish poet Seamus Heaney. My memory is a little hazy, 26 years on (gulp), but I remember a tragic poem about his brother dying, a poppy-like bruise on his head. There was one about drowning kittens, which raised a snigger from the class… Continue reading Writer’s Block
Baby Got Back: Preference or Perv?
It’s been about six months since I last dated. People have commented how incredibly boring I am now that I am not longer in the pursuit of a man who is intellectual, bearded, tattoo’d, Irish/Northern, traditionally good looking but not too good looking, with a dad bod and a passion for personal hygiene. Who enjoys… Continue reading Baby Got Back: Preference or Perv?
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