I was up in my old hood last week, sweet old Sydney Town. And while I had fun catching up
It’s all in the edit. Why fear mongering, fake news and freedom of speech are not the same.
This is why I don’t do politics or define myself as an activist. It’s precisely why I stick to educating
Fuck You, Hormonal Binge Eating.
I would like to say a giant FUCK YOU to the 4 pack of Nanna’s apple pies I have crammed
Steam Your Snatch. Balinese Style.
I can never predict what is going to part the waters here at Fuck You Friday. Just when I think
The exploding glitter queef. How to keep a straight face with this bizarre new vaginal suppository.
Just when I think I have seen and heard it all, another trend comes along to blow all other stupid trends
It’s not for me.
I have a funky foot issue. An issue with my foot tissue. Tinea. And it’s fucking gross. Despite wearing thongs
Fuck You, Pauline Hanson.
I’ve wanted to say this for an awfully long time. Fuck you, Pauline Hanson. Over the last 20 years, I’ve
F*ck You, Random Things You (Shouldn’t) Put In Your Fanny.
Fanny, Gash, Muff, Beaver, Bat Cave, Vajayjay, Beef Curtains, Badly Packed Kebab, Pussy, Snatch, Foo Foo, Front Bottom, Bearded Oyster.
Fuck You, Amazing Crystal Garden.
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