by Lauren Liebenberg | Sep 30, 2014 | Bra Bonfires
Dear Nicki, I watched your Anaconda music video the other day, and although most of the soundtrack was drowned out by the cackling of the pack of nine to eleven year-old jackals at whose insistence I’d watched the thing, unfortunately it’s the visuals that I can’t...
by Lauren Liebenberg | Sep 23, 2014 | Parenting Hacks
This article was originally featured on BooksLive If you are the parent of an only child, or a parent who has never heard the words, “But maa-aam, he said “Shuddup” to me,” delivered in a whine like an angle grinder through your skull, don’t even bother to read on –...
by Lauren Liebenberg | Sep 11, 2014 | The Scheduled Drug Club
I’m an insomniac. Always have been. God knows why. I remember even as a kid spending long hours alone in the darkness thinking about transforming into O Mighty Isis. I had an amber-coloured glass eye pried from my little sister’s mangy old teddy bear, which I’d...
by Lauren Liebenberg | Aug 29, 2014 | The Scheduled Drug Club
Massage onto bare skin. Then wash your hands, immediately. Those were the instructions, printed on the creased insert that came folded and re-folded into a tiny origami message in a cardboard box containing my “bio-identical” testosterone. The inner thighs or flanks...
by Lauren Liebenberg | Aug 3, 2014 | Suburban Survival
I hate my birthday. There, I said it. According to Facebook, everyone else wanders around all day long feeling “blessed” and “spoiled”. For the record, I do not feel “blessed”, because as you know, people who use words like “blessed” on Facebook posts, especially ones...
