The thirty of us were sitting in a private dining room at Friday’s Riverside, emptying flutes of Moet et Chandon and licking our plates clean of medium-rare Wagyu steak jus. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors led out to a tiled balcony and mini-bar that overlooked the Brisbane river. It was an early afternoon at the end of semester, a very large tab was poised ready to open at 5:00pm, and we had reached the awards part of the party.
Before there was Team Edward and Team Jacob, it was Angel vs. Spike. A vital discourse that continues to this day, my answer has always been the leather jacketed, British, smoker and smoking hot Spike. He has better cheekbones, a more dynamic character and a proper crypt. However, there is an incredibly problematic element to rooting for Spike. He is an attempted rapist. Continue reading
And seriously, that’s okay. This isn’t a trap. Male sexuality is a complex, personal and individual thing; why do we keep—implicitly, explicitly and profoundly counterproductively—pretending otherwise? Turn on the telly, or the pages of Cosmo, and it’s constantly reinforced that girls are complicated, intricate labyrinths, and boys are a well-lit corridor, always geared to go. (In this metaphor feel free to consider the minotaur a benevolent creature of multiple orgasms.)
Not that I wanna speak for bros on this matter. Instead, let’s just recognise that people who aren’t jerks are far more interested in whether everyone is having fun than if your private is standing to attention. Yes, the two often go hand in hand. But sometimes, just because you’re a dude and you’ve got an enthusiastically consenting adult playtime buddy doesn’t mean you’re DTF and can everyone just be chill about that please.
Kate Zahnleiter was raised by a single working mother and a television. She writes that “not a day goes by in which I’m unable to relate something which occurs in real life back to an episode of something I watched as a child, teenager or young adult.” In Life and My Box, Kate will be sharing the lessons she has learned from TV. First up, Dawson’s Creek (*~I DON’T WANNA WAIT~*):
Earlier this year I introduced myself to my classmates in a university tutorial by telling them I wanted to be a farmer.
Looking back, people probably thought I was trying to be quaint, quirky, or charming. Those kinds of getting-to-know-you speeches at uni can be really competitive by your final year. It’s not enough to just say “um hi, I’m so-and-so… I’m doing Arts and Education… I’ve got a dog,” and then giggle self-consciously like we all did in first year. You’ve really got to bring it these days. Justify why you’re still at university in your mid-twenties. Compose a funny and insightful verbal self-portrait in twenty-five words or less.
My relationship began as most do: with butterflies, feeling on top of the world whenever his hand brushed mine, melting whenever I smelled his cologne, adoring every word he said, and smiling whenever someone said his name. There were so many firsts all at once, it was like a love-bomb: first date, first kiss, first time we said the L word, the first time he stayed at my house, first time I met his family, and the first time we farted in front of each other (my favourite first).
Four years later, we’re engaged and living together, and things have naturally changed. We have all but run out of firsts. The butterflies are present but not nearly as frequent; whenever someone says his name, I’m like ‘yeah, ok’; and the conversation isn’t exactly adorable. Often I find him giving me a detailed description of the shit he just took, or telling me why tomato sauce should be a food group. Continue reading
You are so cool! You look so nice today! How are you doing? Are you doing swell?
Gosh it feels like we’ve been apart for so long, and we HAVE, because we (Sian, James, and Sam) are all together in Melbourne for the Emerging Writers’ Festival! Wow!
Along with attending some rad panels and getting saturated with inspiration, we’ve been ~networking~ and ~repping the mag~ all over the show but mostly at the SCUM X VOICEWORKS BOX SOCIAL on Saturday afternoon. Boy howdy that was a fun time! It was a delight & a pleasure to meet all the cool cats from the Voiceworks editorial committee and all the other talented and charming guests—thank you SO much for coming along, and thank you as well to everyone who participated in our #boxsocial Twitterfall–wow! 2013!! We had readings from Jessica Alice, Broede Carmody and Oliver Mol (Sam said some junk also) and the whole thing was facilitated by the v. outstanding Kat Muscat. Everyone is so clever and beautiful and patient with Sian’s chicken stories and we’re all still blushing about it.
While I might look fairly innocuous, you can bet that at any given time I am thinking the most fucked up shit. Disclaimer: I don’t fantasise about weird stuff like death or Justin Bieber proposing to me [WHAT THIS ISN’T WEIRD – Ed.], I don’t have a mental disorder, and I probably won’t murder you. In fact, according to a whole bunch of people on the internet, it’s completely normal to be a little paranoid – and everything on the internet is true.
Hello everybody! C. Hocking here, newest starlet in the writing game.
I’ve been checking out your stuff online and in the print and first off, great job! You’re doing pretty good! Not much talent but a lot of good raw ideas and textures in your work. But also if you’re ever going to make it in this industry (and it is a damn hard industry, oh my godddd ha ah in this sunburnt laaaaaand) then here are a few pointers that I have compiled in my own personal roller coaster ride to the stars.