Blogs about the world of gender identity ideology
Darren, who I knew a tiny bit from the pub, was always neat, wearing crisp white shirts, tucked into creaseless jeans, hair short back and sides. One day, while saying goodbye, he casually asked if I fancied going out with him. I must have screwed my face up, as he quickly added: “Please, I really really fancy you and I’d really like to get know you better.” Really? My god! So, of course, I agreed, feeling ashamed of my reflexive aloofness.
It came about because I’d gone on a biking holiday to Guatemala, graded easy to moderate, so I thought it’d be a cinch. Peering out
About twenty years ago, my epiphany that not-all-people-think-like-me came when I was telling a new friend a night at the cinema had been ruined by a bobbing head. I was annoyed with myself, but also still with the bobber. She laughed her head off. Didn’t even pretend.
“Don’t you ever feel that way though?” I asked, widening and then narrowing my eyes.
Suddenly the skies opened and torrential rain bucketed down. Long neglected gulleys flooded over, my shoes filling. Nevertheless I dutifully squelched across the way to
I knew I was in for a rough ride when Delphine looked directly at me, supercilious smile spread across her face, refusing to return my
Facts about woodlice. I have a few. Woodlice are late night party animals. And, when a woodlouse is ready to die, it rolls on
The Lies They Tell 