Santa, you better pack the big sack this year…

Dear Santa,

I’m calling bullshit on your annual delivery of underwear and pyjamas, enough is enough. You need to quit it with your small-time stocking stuffers and take this shit big picture. Think of it as making up for the other 364 days of the year where all you do is sit on your gingerbread and candy cane throne and judge the citizens’ of the world. And just who are you calling a ho? For shame, Santa.  Level with me a minute and hear me out, I just have a few simple requests.

Please can I have for Christmas:

  1. To be BFF’s with Tina Fey. We’ll braid each other’s hair, tell each other secrets and cry about boys together. On Wednesday we’ll wear pink. And we would NEVER write about each other in the Burn book.
  2. A basic understanding of physics. Including, but not limited to, how it’s possible that planes can fly in the air… srsly. Continue reading
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Farewell, Dear Wisdom Teeth

A bright light blinds me as my eyes squint open and I try and make sense of my surroundings. A strange hand clumsily prods my face. I unsuccessfully try to sit up when a face with kind eyes and a surgical mask on appears and tells me to relax. It’s then that I realise it’s my own hand touching my numb, swollen face and I’m in a bit of pain.

I’ve just had all four of my wisdom teeth surgically removed in hospital. And now face a few weeks of recovery and a lifetime without my third molars. As I melt into a stack of pillows and bite down on the some gauze to stem the blood flow I think back… Continue reading