‘Slutty Sundaes’ – “Death is an unusual concept really. No animal intellectually has the capacity to think about it. Yet we can.” 

Hi sluts! 

I can’t believe I am admitting this but I nearly forgot to write this Sunday. Granted it’s only been an hour since Sunday here in Sydney, I do feel slightly guilty. 

This weekend was slightly uneventful yet on Saturday I revisited a path I’ve been a few years ago. 
The Death Cafe.

You may be thinking, “…oh god, this sounds morbid.” But it’s not. Not really. 

Together, all of us, we have one massive step that we will all experience. 


Death is an unusual concept really. No animal intellectually has the capacity to think about it. Yet we can.

It’s fascinating. A concept that I’ve thought about many, many times. 

The Death Cafe is not an actual one physcial place. Instead it was held at numerous venues. 

The first time I attended it was held in a snazzy jazz bar converted from a well known brothel. 
Fancy lamps, naked women on the ceiling, Japanese erotica on the walls. The encouraged venue for the immaculate conception of a human. 

Yet there we were talking about death and dying. It was a surprisingly most uplifting experience. 

On Saturday, I headed to a rustic cafe in the south end of Newtown. An area known for its openness in all manners. 

I met the woman who conducts these meetings at a cafe. 

Michele Knight. A doctor in social work and facilitator for the monthly meetings. 

I interviewed her for an up and coming project which I’m pretty excited as it sounds rather compelling. 

The attendees happened to be much older people – I was obviously the youngest. 

I won’t disclose what was said because it’s a very secure, warm, open and highly confidential meeting. 

But I will say, I posed a question to the group. 

Without getting into the path of religion or spirituality, which clearly the group all seemed to follow in some shape or form, I wanted to shake that thought. 

“Just hypothetically, if we all found out that this life was all that there was,”

“Would you live your life different knowing that when you die that’s all there is – nothing else?” 

One person confirmed it wouldn’t. 

The conversation swerved allowing my to divulge in my thoughts on religion.

I don’t need religion to have a moral compass. 

I don’t need to be told what to do. 

I don’t need the notion that if I do good things I will later benefit from it.  

I don’t need to think some Godly figure has granted me a job when in fact I was capable myself. 

And I certainly don’t want to believe that a God would allow children with incurable cancer or born in war torn countries to exist to test my relationship with religion and God. 

I don’t doubt religion has its benefits for people and I totally get that. In all honesty, I’m slightly envious. 

But it just isn’t for me and that’s okay. 

You can check out the Death Cafe online – the link is worldwide and has dates for up and coming meetings within your closet city or town. 



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – Life in colour 

Welcome to this week’s Slutty Sundae. 

I’ve finally had some time to look through my photos from my little break away. 

My partial perfectionism has led me to only hand pick a few photos I really liked. 

Unknowingly I chose a theme of colour so do enjoy. 

The sun’s shift is over. The night sky is about to begin. 

Oh, the prettiest rooster I ever did see. 

Getting lost in the snake-filled forest. 

Nothing better than a colourful heart bench – accompanied by some very loyal doggies. 

This view just instantly made me happy. Being there is just as good as it looks. 

Cafe lovers couldn’t keep their hands off each other – or their eyes for that matter. 

Till next Sunday, don’t forget the true meaning of Slutty Sundaes. A day of rest with little regret yet fulfilled with pleasure. 

Take that how ever you want. 😜



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – when Life hands you bruised bananas. 

Bananas are great. They’re good for you. Easy to eat and take with you on the run. But occasionally you get the odd bruised banana. But is it really a bad thing? 

A friend of mine was just diagnosed with a chronic disease that has great potential to inflict pain and a very physical abnormality. 

It’s a rare condition, one that my friend is in turmoil over it. 

Throughout my life I’ve hated my body. My number one enemy. 

‘Why can’t my legs be more toned?’

‘Why can’t my arms be straight yet muscular?’

‘What if I just took some fat out of my sausage fingers?’ 

The questions and revelations really wouldn’t stop. 

That all being said. I’ve come to appreciate what I DO have rather than what I don’t. 

‘Did you know I have two completely functional legs that can get me from A to B?’ 

‘I know it doesn’t look like it but my arms are actually quite strong.’ 

‘My ass is big, I know. But I actually love how it looks at this angle!’ 

Believe me, I wasn’t always like this. 

I would write in my journal every week about how ugly I was. 

How there was nothing going for me because I was that hideous.

How everyone just pitied me and that was why they were surrounding themselves around me. 
I once attributed myself to the “Ugly Duckling” because have no boobs or my period meant there was clearly something wrong with me. 

But as time moved on, I’ve begun to appreciate what I do have. 

It takes a lot of hours, dedication, changing your thought patterns and really just not giving a fuck about what people think. 

If someone doesn’t like something about you. Fuck em. 

You’re not here on this planet for said person. You are here for you. 

This is what I’ve been trying to tell my friend. But she’s so enthralled in this idea that she is hideous because of said condition. I assure you, she isn’t. 

Much like a bruised banana, once you delicately peel away each side you’re presented with a imperfectly perfect banana. 

I believe if we appreciated ourselves better we would treat others better. 

But maybe that suffering DOES form itself into something better. 

But ultimately it’s up to you to change that mentality. 

Trust me, it’s not an easy path. But slowly I’m peeling away the bruised skin filled with bad thoughts and self doubt. To eating that damn deliciousness and appreciating it filling my tummy. 


TAFE Journal

When visions become reality #anonymousconfessions

I’ve had a project in the works.

It’s called ‘Anonymous Confessions’.

Essentially, I have a tent and in this case, the Confessional Tent. In which participants, reveal something that they’ve kept to themselves by recording confessions.

I had been planning this for a while but finally took it out into the public view.

Devising a plan was pretty simple. Set up the tent, stay there all day and try aim to have people record their confessions.


I started at 9:30 in the morning, staying the whole day next to my Confessional Tent like a needy child.

It was worthwhile though. I was quite apprehensive about it all. Perhaps also the fact I wouldn’t pee until about 6pm that night!

Anyway, it was a fun day. I met so many incredible people. Most reactions from strangers were positive saying how they really liked the idea.

This boosted my confidence in the whole project. Especially coming from the least likely people. In total I had 14 recordings.

My goal was 20 but perhaps that was a bit ambitious.

I did have one guy approach me and said I didn’t give enough information. “If I’m just walking passed that and I see ‘Confessional Tent’ I would run for the hills,’ he said.

I understood his feedback and that’s fine. He is entitled to his opinion. But then I replied “I understand that, but now that you saw my poster. You’ve actually come up to me,” I added. I then went into detail about how I had formulated the idea.

Once he heard it he looked at me and said “Okay, yeah now I like the idea.”


I also included additional questions to help (Okay I didn’t know that the tent would have slots for this but how awesome) if people were stuck on what to say.

This seemed to really work as most people would begin to say they didn’t have anything to confess. I would then just place other questions in their hands and it seemed to spark something.



Along with little thank you notes, I had lollies to give them once they were finished. Just a nice sweet touch to say thanks for their participation.

Honestly, this idea was sparked from my love of connection, people and sharing stories.

I’m hoping to continue this project and see where it takes me!

It’s just fascinating to see ideas become reality when you start from the drawing board to sitting on a crate for more than 8 hours talking to strangers in a park.



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – I have to say, I have found my retirement village. 

How has everyone’s week been? 

I was away from last week and had a day off class. 

A much needed break. 

Sometimes it just helps getting out of the big smoke. Visiting little towns like Nimbin who pride themselves in herbal fixes, hemp and “Pit paste”. 

We, my parents and older brother, were staying with my Godfather. He was present at my birth 27 years a go, subsequently seeing my mum’s vagina. 

The first day my brother and I headed to Dreamworld in Queensland’s Gold Coast, or should now be called ‘No-people-world’. 

Apart from the short lines allowing us to go on rides way too many times – to my inner child’s delight. 

It was also quite deserted. 

Last year’s devastating incident which left 4 adults dead from a ride, must have had an affect on the crowds. 

Google ‘Rapid Water ride – Dreamworld deaths if you want to know about it all. 

The staff there were very friendly and seemed to all be in good spirits. 

A few days after, we went to a family friends house in Federal, Northern NSW. A beautiful in land location surrounded by hills, trees and farmland. 

At 27 years of age, I can say I have found my retirement village. 

If this view doesn’t convince you, I wouldn’t know what will. 

The sun was streaming between the outside decking. As it rested on the horizon creating an ambience that left me feeling way more appreciative of life than usual. 

Birds were singing as I looked over the hill and down the backyard were black cows sitting comfortably under the trees nearby. 

Never had such a moment felt so peaceful. 

On our last day, we ventured to this lovely little secluded waterfall called Northbridge in Lamington National Park (so Aussie!) which was amazingly tiny but so pretty. 

We were walking towards the waterfall when my brother said to my mum. “Keep walking”, she turned to her right and there was a huge 3-metre python snake just making its way towards the path. 

Luckily my mum’s swearing made the snake head in the opposite direction. 

Eventually we headed to the cave, with tiny bats flying around in circles in the darker parts of the cave. 

And we embraced the view. 

Needless to say, I need to take a break from the city more often! 



‘Slutty Sundaes’ – As soon as I met him, I knew it wasn’t going to work

Over the years, I have had few relationships.

I’m proud of this fact but also it slaps me in the face when people ask me my relationship history. 

Being single for a long time has many benefits. 

I’m highly independent in what I want. I don’t have to consider anyone’s feelings when making a decision. I do as I please when travelling. I can be a recluse without feeling guilty. Casual flirtation. The works. Sex. 

But there are things I really miss. 

Sharing moments with that one person about each other’s lives. intimacy with someone. Laughing together. Holding hands. Being wanted by someone. Fighting and making up. Sex. 

This had sparked my trial of online dating. 

In over 5 years, I’ve been on up to 10 different dates with guys. Plenty of fish. OkCupid. Tinder. I’ve done it all.

The last date I was on, played out like this. 

I had spoken to this guy for a week or so, before I thought it would be good to meet up. 

Let’s call him ‘Charlie’.

Charlie’s photos looked nice on his profile. Quite sweet looking with long hair and beard. A musician. He had lived in Berlin for a few years but finally decided to come home. 

He was sweet to talk to. Nothing bizarre stood out. 

I decided to take him to a local restaurant to me, thinking it would be nice to see live music the jazz bar nearby. 

As soon as I met him, I knew it wasn’t going to work. 

He was wearing a white suit jacket with a blue collared shirt. Black pants and white shoes.

If he rocked it, I wouldn’t have cared but he looked how he felt. Awkward. 

I also noticed he had short hair and no beard. Slight diversion but none the less, I could manage. 

We arrived and sat in the middle of the restaurant to a warm greeting. The waitress let us know of the specials as well as a deal that gave us a free drink if we checked in. 

I suggested Charlie check-in to which he complied. I got myself a white wine and Charlie chose red. 

Conversation flowed as we continued to get to know each other. I made a joke about getting a tattoo of a penis on my back. I’m not sure he entirely appreciated my humour. 

Charlie went into technical detail of how he created his music. Something that I’m sure only a music geek would know. 

He paid for the meal which was nice but not expected.

After dinner, we headed to the jazz bar and sat down on their swanky couches. We talked some more over drinks and I was still trying to convince myself to give this guy a fair go. 

There’s something I should say. I can be so confident in certain environments but there’s also situations that force me to become incredibly awkward and anxious. Dating can be one of them. More specifically first dates I would say. 

This is when the date made a turn that I just couldn’t go along with. 

As we were talking, Charlie began to sneeze like a trooper. This meant consistent sneezing. I understand what it’s like. I get hayfever it’s the worst. This wasn’t an issue or so I thought. 

However, Charlie lacked the awareness of social constructed etiquette to when one sneezes. Instead of finding tissues Charlie had a better option. His hands. 

Charlie began to sneeze once, twice, no three times in a row. He compensated by covering his nose with his hands and swiftly rubbing them together as if I wouldn’t notice. 

He continued the conversation as if I had witnessed nothing. 

My jaw literally dropped to which I had to pick it up and pass it off as I was thirsty for my drink. 

It turned out, when he had drunk that red wine he was in fact allergic to it. 

Just a note for any guy reading this, don’t drink or eat something you’re allergic to on a first date or any for that matter. It’s not worth it! 

He sneezed most of the time which forced him to tell me he had a stroke a few years back. This made him quite sensitive to certain food and drinks, one being – red wine. 

Other than grossed out by his lack of snot hygiene. 

I hadn’t appreciated him telling me I couldn’t leave an area of the bar to watch another band because it was considered “rude”. 

I totally get this notion. In fact, I would agree. 

But, we were sitting away from the band so much so that the amount of people would have hidden our disappearing act. 

I complied to his request but I didn’t feel comfortable. 

We eventually headed back to the main stage area and this new band gathered a bigger group of people. This forced us to stand next to the bar as we watched. 

While bobbing my head up and down feeling somewhat awkward with Charlie. He just HAD to take it to the next level. 

I felt this strange tickle on my elbow, looking down I realised it was Charlie’s hand, hoping it had been washed, trying to stroke my arm. 

Writing this down makes me laugh whilst cringing inside. I was giving him major cold shoulder vibes. 

Eventually I said I wanted to go home. Charlie offered to drive me home. I declined and told him I was within walking distance home.

This was true.  A 20 minute walk. 

The goodbye was too awkward to write down even for me. 

Lets just say I treated myself with Dominoes garlic bread so I would feel less guilty. 

It’s been a good 6 months since this date although Charlie has attempted to contact me twice. Kudos to the bloke. 

The thing is I know when I connect with someone. I can’t force it. 

Online dating is a bizarre concept. 

But I’d rather someone who used tissues to sneeze or at least excuse themselves to wash hands after a good three-sneeze-session. 

TAFE Journal

Reflecting on skillz? – TAFE journal

A few weeks ago in class, we had to highlight our skills in order to write them up for a CV or as us Aussies usually say, resumè.

Like we are French. Wee.

Here’s the thing I just couldn’t take it seriously. My skill set is pretty low I have to say. I can already hear my teacher underselling myself.

But it’s true.

The best I came up with was my awesome ability to conjure up the BEST armpit farts ever.

The class laughed. I’m not entirely sure people were really appreciative of this skill.

How many people do you know that can create fart sounds that vary between different tones, pitches and potentially ‘wet’ sounding?  I doubt many.

But in all seriousness, I am still learning.

I suppose my current skill set is confident in using social media. I am quite a good communicator or will work my best to communicate and understand what is being said.

I can relate to others well or seek the best in others. If that is even a skill.


My project ideas have changed over time. But I have concluded at least two of them. My first idea is to create a concept called Anonymous Confessions. Using a tent, allow people to have some time to tell a secret or confess something that perhaps they haven’t told anyone else.

I’m a bit unsure about how it’s going to turn out. But I’ve already got some recorded.

I’ll be updating soon about my other ideas but for now, I must go.





‘Slutty Sundaes’ – It’s not a great job unless you love it

Hi sluts!

A few weeks ago, my dad picked up this clown from a client of his. For some strange reason, he thought it was best to leave out the front of our house.

Not only was it super creepy, but we also live right across from a school where kids walk by constantly during the week.

It wasn’t until my mum heard a kid say

“Oh wow look at that creepy clown,” showing his friend outside our fence.

Ironically in time for the new movie “IT”.

He’s grown on us, just sitting here all day but it must get boring.

In other news, It’s been a meticulous week of thought rather than action.
One that I’m quite aware of but I will get there.

Continue reading “‘Slutty Sundaes’ – It’s not a great job unless you love it”


‘Slutty Sundaes’ – HOW TO PROCRASTINATE 

In case you didn’t know already what to do, I’ve included the best 5 top ways to procrastinate.

Starting TAFE has been slow this semester and I haven’t worked out the exact reason why.

But I do know my trusty friend, procrastination, is someone I can rely on.

In somewhere of a Top 5 here they are:

5. Just don’t do it. Or call it sickness. 

Continue reading “‘Slutty Sundaes’ – HOW TO PROCRASTINATE “


‘Slutty Sundaes’- ‘becoming friends with the sun.’ 

As of late, I’ve been really appreciative of the scene around me. 

I should state I live in the city, infact I could drive to the city in about 15 minutes (without Sydney traffic). 

But besides the overbearing sounds of planes, families and occasional sirens. There are so many pockets of life that I take for granted. 

We all do.

Consumed by our worlds. 

Thoughts, deadlines, concerns, debates, conversations, tantrums, fights, heartfelt apologies and many laughs guide our lives but sometimes it really helps to see what other life is occurring. 

To cleanse from this, I’ve been taking moments of solitude with my camera, soaking in the space I call home and becoming friends with the sun. 

When I was at Spring camp in Canada, last year , I facilitated a program that was created to encourage young people to be concerned about the environment whilst learning along the way. 

One of our activities was for the kids to get a picture in their eager hands (not always so eager) and in small sections in a field, they had to determine whether they could find what was in their picture on the ground. It was generally some sort of life form. 

In order to determine whether the mock council should develop on the field that the kids were looking at, we first had to determine if there was life. 

Simple enough, the kids would realise well yes there is life. Everywhere you go. Even in just a small patch of grass, there is so much to learn from that. 

It’s funny in a way because during my photography escapade I ended up standing on our outdoor table in my backyard. 

My brother saw me, walked over, and said “There are so many beautiful things to see,” with the most obvious layer of sarcasm in his tone. Mocking me he laughed and walked away. 

Besides my brothers inability to associate with anything remotely emotional, he was right. Minus the sarcasm of course. 

There ARE so many beautiful things to see. 

You just have to be willing to see them.