Nothing says Christmas in Tasmania more than 舞狮. Yes, the lion dance! This lion was spotted foxtrotting down Argyle Street during the Hobart Christmas parade, clearing away stray elves and Christmas goths in order to make way for an impressive and colourful dragon.
Have a Christmas Eve story!
A mere slip of a girl, Trudy had the filthiest mouth this side of the docks. Yet she had the face of an angel. Uncouthness aside, she possessed a razor sharp mind, particularly vis-a-vis her two favourite subjects: men and desire.
Men, Trudy believed, were simple creatures. Her theory was straightforward: for the most part, men were slaves to their desires, particularly those of a sexual nature. Holding court with her merry brand of brightly-branded acolytes, Trudy would reflect on the topic for hours.
“Even the most educated of men – if in possession of a fully functioning [ahem] member – is a hair’s breadth away from the condition of slavering dog. A mere hint of breast or thigh can reduce as easily Doctor of Philosophy as a street sweeper.”
This knowledge – confirmed by years’ experience – should have stood her in good stead, for such power is of great value. Alas, her power came with a weakness. In recognising their feebleness in such matters, Trudy felt pity.
Pity was Trudy’s weakness.
She hated herself for it.