Paula Houseman

The Poetic Slicence of Plastic Surgery

My, What Big Ears You Have! I love Matt Stone and Trey Parker, creators of South Park. I love their warped humour and their characters—foul-mouthed, politically incorrect bunch of yobs! I admire Stone and Parker’s ability to satirise. Apparently, I do a bang-up job of this myself, according to an Amazon Hall of Fame reviewer. … Read more

I’ll Show You My Mess If You Show Me Yours!

Utter Clutter Nutter I ♥ mess. Yyeah, baby! But wait up … that doesn’t mean I’m a slob/slug/layabout/slack-arse. I’m not. It’s just that once you have kids, any sense of structure, order, and control goes down the crapper. Pre-ankle-biter days, I was anal retentive. Example: the bathroom of our very first house had a stainless-steel … Read more

Why It’s Time for a New Women’s Anthem!

I ♥ My Dirty-Girl Mouth I have a potty-mouth. It’s not a bad thing. For a long time, though, I was ashamed of what came out of my bazoo. Why couldn’t I be demure—ladylike, like the fairy-tale damsel? It’s not as if I didn’t try to make nice. We bobby-socked baby-boomers were groomed to. Still, … Read more

Why the Lure of Horror Is a Good Thing

A Nightmare on Overwhelm Street The man’s bloodied forearm dangled limply outside the door of his horribly smashed-up car. I slowed down to get a better look at this accident on the other side of the road. The drivers in front of me had also reduced speed, but the stretch ahead of them was clear. No … Read more

Why Obscenity Is Good for Your Health

Truth or Dare? Dare. I dare say we all crave obscenity. Ooh … I sense prudes mounting their high horses, shouting a spotless synonym for ‘bullshit!’. But that would indicate that they’ve opened up this post, which could indicate that they were unable to resist sneaking a peek at something that might be grubby. Why? … Read more

How I Deal with the Inner Critic

SHUUUT UUUUUUUP! Does that work for you? Mostly, it does nothing for me. Zip. Nada. Bupkis. The inner critic won’t listen. All writers have to contend with one, but writers don’t have the monopoly. This bitchy, nit-picking predator of the psyche doesn’t pick and choose. It assails everyone. I couldn’t silence mine—and I was loath … Read more