I am shocked. Today after deseeding my big pumpkin I received a call from my fabulous friend George Willow-Mochasian inviting me to a wonderful old pagan-esquire ceremony in Devon (I know!) that involves throwing tar barrels down a hill. I think fire must be involved somewhere... Anyhow. WOMEN CANNOT PARTICIPATE.
So we're not having any of that are we? I have hatched an acerbically planniscious plan to fool them all. I am strong, I've picked many apples in my time; I have carried sacks on them down the path from Aunt Lilly's orchid into the kitchen. I have made jam, I have made crumble, but damn it- I picked the apples!
I therefore shall be assuming the disguise of a man, I shall perform in the competition, win and then reveal my true identity shaming them all! And just in case you're thinking "She can't do it. She's is too weak. How? Impossible! A little woman against all those strong men?" Well readers I have one word for you: steroids.
You wait, you see I will have them ALL: the steroids and the barrels (maybe some men too)
And don;t worry they're not that dangerous- I got some herbal ones from Holland and Barrett.
So I've got my lovely warm jumper ready from good old Aunt Lilly and some sparklers- but most of all I cannot WAIT to toss some barrels. I will be just like Zena Warrior Princess! Well not really like her (awful third waver) I'd like to stick the (post-) in her feminism: Silly bitch.
Sorry. Anyway, here's the link check it out gals!! Will let you know how it goes...
P.S. I think steroids might cure thrush, that or cranberry juice.
Indexical Self-Cut - *A short squib read at the *‘*Doubting Thomas’ symposium at the University of Sussex, 18th April 2018. * In a 2007 exchange with the critic Sam Ladkin, th...
4 days ago