This is what living in a country town has turned my mother into: A woman who allows her own dog to be shaved to look like this. Shame, shame, shame.

Tiny dog is in my living room.

See my thumb? The chick in the tartan it’s pointing to is for real and serious Lady GaGa. Like, srs.

It’s positively fucking tropical today.

It’s my ex-boyfriend’s wedding day, apparently. Like, in Rome time today. He’s flown to Rome to get married. That’s pretty cool. He dumped me 10 years ago then asked me to get back together with him 9 years ago and I said no. But, also: someone impregnate me immediately.

omg there’s apparent there’s this thing called acupuncture and it’s really good for you! Also, I made my acupuncturist take a photo of me being all needly.

Yeah! Be a meaningless figurehead of Bec’s vagina!


I wanted to be king of England when I grew up.

I want you to be the king of my England.*

*”England” means “vagina”.

When my uncle was little he wanted to grow up to be a piglet.

My mum first told me this about 30 years ago and I still cackle every time I think about it.

My aesthetic is “Just-Driven-Back-From-Rural-NSW-Come-on-Mum-WTF-Move-Back-to-Melbourne”.