He Said, First Let's Just Unzip Your

If You Call Me A New-age, Airy-fairy, Hippie-dippy Airhead I Will Shove My Crystals Up Your Ass.

Your Apocalypse Was Fab.

I'm A Classic Emerald Green Sixties Jaguar That Nobody Can Own, But My Husband Is Allowed To Drive.

And If There Is A Way To Find You, I Will Find You. But Will You Find Me If Neil Makes Me A Tree

I Don't Mind A Dirty Girl. But What I Find Tragic Is When We, As Women, Become Not The Subject Of Our Own Story But Someone Else's Object.