A good part – and definitely the most fun part – of being a feminist is about frightening men.
A good part – and definitely the most fun part – of being a feminist is about frightening men.
Wisdom worth sharing, words worth remembering.
A good part – and definitely the most fun part – of being a feminist is about frightening men.
Mind you I've always been a very off-message type of fat broad one who gladly admits she reached the size she is now solely through lack of discipline and love of pleasure and who rather despises people (except those with proven medical conditions) who pretend that it is generally otherwise.
I have experienced jealousy possessiveness verbal abuse and violence from men but I have also experienced jealousy possessiveness verbal abuse and violence from women usually when I failed to respond to their advances.
I've never been nostalgic personally or politically – if the past was so great how come it's history?
The freedom that women were supposed to have found in the Sixties largely boiled down to easy contraception and abortion things to make life easier for men in fact.
The Feminist Me says that a woman's right to her own body should be inviolate at all times free from fear of peeping paps.
Fact is famous people say fame stinks because they love it so – like a secret restaurant or holiday island they don't want the hoi polloi to get their grubby paws on.
Monarchists frequently declare that without the royal family Britain would be 'nothing.' What a woeful lack of love for one's country such statements express.
Tears are sometimes an inappropriate response to death. When a life has been lived completely honestly completely successfully or just completely the correct response to death's perfect punctuation mark is a smile.
When I moved out of London 13 years ago I found a whole other reason not to drive. This was because my new husband Dan unlike my dad did drive and this became a great source of fun and adventure.
My dad didn't drive – the only dad I knew who didn't.
What sort of sap doesn't know by now that picture-perfect beauty is all done with smoke and mirrors anyway?