Why shouldn't I aspire to be the doctor's wife???

It seems that because I have a set of (genuine) tits, I am therefore required to take a hardcore on-air stance come International Women's Day - May 8, and NOT as I mistakenly babbled at 5:59pm this arvo, next Monday. 


I must take the chair habitually occupied by everyone's favourite ranga and music trivia host, Al Erskine, whilst trawling over the likes of websites which advocate the breast-feeding of puppies...These inherent bottle-fed issues are certainly crucial to the notion of women over the likes of my own feminine guiles, surely..? 


This would in fact, be 1 March and seemingly appears numerically and chronologically superior to the following 8 March.


However, I am apparently a woman of great disregard, to promote its existence in a false or misleading  manner by which, come Monday, poor old Al may have to close that browser window in order to assert his masculine presence..


Not to mention the fact that I sound somewhat like a male, albeit a vaguely castrated one, as well as the death stares I managed to direct squarely at self by suggesting we all incinerate our bras whilst dancing around skyclad chanting nonsensical statements of feminist affirmation...


But I want to be a kept woman!!! Hence, I am a fraud...


But hey, when it gets to the point in your life when you march defiantly past the fluro vested Centrelink earners, muttering: "Mate, I've got bigger issues..." and you owe the debt equal to a house deposit on Bugger All (excuse me, I mean, extensive Tertiary education....) and the extra hit of the Master in Bugger All and bugger all to speak of, can you blame me for checking whether my GP's is wearing a wedding band????


I don't think I quite epitomise a young Germaine Greer...though I do agree with her post Hormone Repalcement Therapy treatment ideas: Steve Irwin asked for it!


I may, at this stage, need to point out that I do, in fact, love and adore MY FAV RANGA AL! The master of trashy drunken post-show trivia!