Wandering

I won’t name her, but she’s a certified fruit loop that pretends to be a writer and a journalist.

But there’s no point in writing, absent material worth reading, aka lipsticking the pig.

Today’s example came to me through circumstances unusual in the extreme. Stuck somewhere in the hell that is eastern Melbourne, waiting for my nephew to finish a job, the Weekend Australian is my only saviour from the LCD. Paradox alert…

Thesis; women can’t just wander around cities for meditational or artistic temperament purposes because men look at them all the time, spoiling the Zen. Indeed male partners don’t let them anyway. But she can now because she’s old and ugly and that’s a good thing. True freedom.

As I said, fruit loop. Ignoring the fact that her thesis contradicts itself 10x in one page, she seems not to understand that to be observed one must care. It takes two.