I got this thing the other day that I thought my kids would LOVE. It is called “The Amazing Crystal
Fuck You (again), Mother’s Day.
Oh god. It’s been a year since I exposed the shithouse presents available for Mums around the world and plunged
A letter from Far Kew to you.
Ever since I started this blog I have been asked if I consider myself a writer, and the answer is
Fuck You, Toilet Training.
I have been a mother for 1682 days. I have changed countless nappies, fully toilet trained one kid and am
Fuck You, Good Friday.
Does Good Friday always turn out to be good? Or does it just feel that way because the Thursday before
Fuck You, Poopin’ Pup.
My oldest Womb Raider who is now 4 had the biggest meltdown I have ever seen the other day. I
The End. For Now.
I had a bit of a weird night last night. I don’t know if it’s the no sleep thing or
Fuck You, Flat Sheets.
You all know I am having some issues with my sleeping. Well if you didn’t, you do now. It sucks
Fuck You, Fat Shamers.
When I was little my Mum always used to tell me that “Sticks and stones may break my bones but
Fuck You, Breastfeeding Shamers.
A year ago a friend posted on her Facebook page about a terrible experience on a plane where she was
Fuck You, THE END.
There have been a few anniversaries for me recently, but today marks 1 year since one of my most notorious
Fuck You, Bad Photos.
In the selfie age it’s hard to escape the fact that everyone holding a phone is holding a camera. The
Happy Fucking Birthday.
12 months ago today I registered www.fuckyoufriday.com.au and decided I was going to write my rants every Friday. With the exception
Fuck You, Cheating Bastards.
If I have to hear about one more of my friends having their lives turned upside down by a cheating
Fuck You, Cuntry Road Fat Pants.
Oh man, Santa was good to me at Christmas time. He gave me 5 extra kilos of chub that I
Fuck You, mind numbingly boring Facebook feed.
Guys. I am strapped for time as I am moving house today, so I will make this a neat and
Fuck You, small but insanely painful injuries.
It wouldn’t be Friday without some kind of drama to befall your friend Far Kew. But today I am wishing that
Fuck You, Daily Mail.
2016 has been a rough ride for many. As I reflect on my year and think about what I want 2017
Fuck You, Christmas Shopping.
Oh my god. Where to fucking start. I know, Christmas shopping can suck the world’s biggest bag of dicks until
Fuck You, Elf on the Shelf.
When my first Womb Raider was born just over 4 years ago, this Elf on the Shelf phenomenon was really taking
Bye Felicia.
Good god I’ve done it again. Somehow offended some people by posting a photo of an embroidered ovary dress. Shit. 8
What’s in a name?
So you crazy cats know I am currently house hunting for a Chateau befitting the family of Far Kew, The
Fuck You, Real Estate Ads.
I’m house hunting again, but this time for something to buy. And unfortunately because of the crazy marketplace here in
Fuck You, Donald Trump. 5 Reasons Why The World is Doomed.
Well. SHIT. It happened. America spoke and they chose Donald Trump as the next President of the United States of
Fuck You 46.9% of America
WHO’S TO BLAME FOR TRUMP? A QUESTION FOR THE GOOD PEOPLE OF AMERICA. Right now, amid the clamour of young liberals, armchair
Fuck You, Fitting Rooms.
What is it about fitting rooms that turns your reflection into a monster? The lights? The mirrors? Both? I fucking
Fuck You, Code Brown.
I wondered if I would be able to write this week, because I am currently holidaying in a stunning resort
Fuck You, Google.
Everyone keeps telling me I should monetise this blog. EVERYONE. “Yeah, yeah” I tell them, “I didn’t get myself into
Jackets without arms in them. Why this shit trend must die.
The world is abuzz with Fashion Week happening in some of the coolest cities on earth. The lights! The Glamour! The
Fuck You, Marriage Inequality.
I am sick of waiting for marriage equality. I am tired of hearing about this stupid plebiscite and l want
Fuck You, Writers Block.
THE END Photo inspo/credit from http://theoatmeal.com/comics/making_things
Fuck You, Flat Pack.
Now that we’ve moved out of the rat hole, I had to buy a few small pieces of furniture to
Fuck You, Father’s Day.
Fuck You, Mother’s Day back in May, was me venting my frustration at the utter shite that was marketed towards us for
Fuck You, Anti Vaxxers.
This has been a long time coming. I’m always nice when it comes to the anti science brigade because I
What Then, If We’re Not Beautiful?
Over the last couple of years I’ve noticed things have taken a downward slide in the looks department. Parts of
5 Reasons Why I Think Kim Kardashian is Dangerous
Ah, Kim Kardashian. Famous for being famous. Love her or hate her, the world has never seen a celebrity this
Fuck You, Saggy Boobs.
Once upon a time there were two glorious boobies who sat proudly atop my chest, pushing their flawless faces towards the
Fuck You, Slow Walkers.
Dear Slow Walkers I love that you like family time and feel the need to spread your entire clan six-across
Fuck You, Gastro.
Gastro is like the worst relationship you have ever had. One that you should never have gotten into in the
Fuck You, Pokémon Go.
I wanted to hate this. There was a certain amount of validation in my refusal to download the game that