Pam Corkery's proposed brothel for women--a world first--is another triumph for female equality. Yeah, right
I love an innovator, but I'm not sure why Pam Corkery's brothel for women is supposed to be progress.
by Eleanor Black
You too can write like a Booker Prize winner or a pulp fiction bazillionaire; plus Chelsea Clinton's wedding
Apparently I write like David Foster Wallace. I know, it came as a surprise to me too.
Welcoming Sue Bradford, Deborah Coddington and Mike Williams
We are celebrating three new writers at Pundit HQ this week. Well, they are all very experienced commentators and writers, actually, but they are new to this forum and we are thrilled to have them.
The world's fattest mum, the nutso who tasered a pregnant lady, and senior citizens making their own coffins. This is what constitutes quality current affairs? Come on, we deserve better
Last night I watched Tim Wilson slap a 600-pound woman on the stomach.
You could do worse for a role model than a big-hearted dog. If you are a young man, you could do much, much worse
Our son thinks he is a dog. It stands to reason--his best friend is a Jack Russell-mini schnauzer cross named Scout who has lived with us for two years. Our son is only 14 months old, so as far as he is concerned Scout is part of what it means to be home. He is a tail to pull and a beard to tug and very often a source of fulsome baby giggles.
With the housing market so volatile, vendors are girding their loins while buyers are hopelessly confused
Our little house in the hood is on the market. It smells like orange zest and window cleaner, and I don't see how it could look any cuter—it is a plastic red Monopoly house brought to life, squatting on a prominent corner, palm trees and agaves gathered round it like disciples.
All we can do now is wait for those cashed-up buyers we were promised to come rushing through the doors.
We're nearly one-twelfth of the way into 2010, but if you're averse to new year's resolutions it takes that long to make them
I don't do new year resolutions. I find them depressing. There is little that is worse than cleaning out a drawer to find a rumpled piece of paper bearing promises made to yourself five years before in the vein of, I will walk to work everyday, I will floss my teeth every night, I will be nicer to the drop-kicks I come across stealing disability car parks at the mall.
What to do about the perennial Christmas gift problem? Sorry, no answers provided here—unless you're in the market for a cupcake car
Oh, dear. December begins next week, the shops are laden in their Christmas finery and the new-look Whitcoull's Santa is peering over activities at the intersection of Queen and Victoria St West.
Time to panic about presents.
Octomom Nadya Suleman has made a new documentary—once again stirring a hornet's nest of contempt and condemnation. Diss her if you like, but think of the kids
I have to admit, this is one cheesy British "documentary" that I really want to see.
Mummy blogging is so yesterday—now new parents are posting their birth videos online
Days after the Herald revealed, somewhat behind the eight ball, bless them, that New Zealand mothers are getting in on the international mummy blogger trend, the San Francisco Chronicle reports that American mothers have
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