I didn’t raise my hand in the last two years of high school for fear of the tight fabric of my uniform straining against my enormous arms. In my mind if I raised my hand, everyone would see that my 16 year old tuck-shop-lady arms… Read More
All posts by “lihpappil”
Dreadlock Combover
My mother is the smartest person I know. She reads every quarterly essay, and even though we currently live in Brisbane she also has shelves full of The New Yorker and other worldly journalist publications of which I’m sure she’s read every word. Long form… Read More
Deirdre, my mother.
liquid soap, The thirsty grass colour of your drapes. A park with swings, The boredom that green grass escapes.
Outrage is painless.
So this has been doing the rounds (since the dark ages): Who knows who wrote it, some bloke pulled it out of his arse by the looks of it. I’m going to take you through this one quick and relatively painlessly. Two young ladies arrived… Read More
Bruce.
My dad called me today with a computer problem. I know by his voice and sense of struggle that he has already tried asking my mum and possibly one of my sisters. This is a man who has managed to keep the electricity on in… Read More
Greetings!
Greetings! My name is Phillippa (Lihpappil is phillippa inside out and back to front, because that is sometimes my state of mind). I do a lot of stuff and I want to write about it and nobody can stop me. I have kids. I… Read More