Thursday, October 23, 2014

A Crocheter of Penis.


So, last weekend I went on away with my girls to celebrate the impending nuptials of one of them.  When I say my girls, it is important that you understand what that means.
My girls are my people, my rocks and my sanity. I don’t know how many ants I didn’t tread on in a past life to deserve these women in my life.

My girls never judge me, ever, and they always have my back. Even when I am in the wrong.
I mean, they’d be all like, “Bitch, you know you are wrong right?” but they’d still have my back. I can count on them for their honesty, their loyalty, understanding and their support for anything, at any time. Our friendships have endured love and loss, good times, bad times and all the times in between. The hours and hours spent talking; spilling, laughing and crying mean that we no longer have to explain ourselves. My girls can tell by the look on my face what I am thinking, what I am saying and what I mean.

They remind me of my worth. Every day.

Do you know what that does for your life?

I wish every woman had girls like mine. Every woman deserves girls like mine. If the women in your life are not like this, do yourself a favour and go find your girls.


Meanwhile, I went away with my girls for an entire weekend of hen’s celebrations. There were cocktails, laughing, singing, talking, fishing, quad bike riding, sand dune surfing and blow up dolls.


There was recreating Kanye film clips.



Our bus got bogged..
Then the Ute that came to get the bus out got bogged.

Then the truck that came to get the Ute out got bogged. Take out the hens games, strippers and penis’s everywhere and it would have made for a very entertaining children’s book.






There was a … noise complaint *Shifty eyes



Followed by a fire danger... *Shiftier eyes.

There were so many phalluses. Phalluses everywhere… which brings me to this THING I have been pondering lately...

I don’t know when... Or why, or even how, but it seems I have become a crocheter of penis.
I think it all started way back, when I accidentally crocheted a penis... For those of you who follow my twitter and Instagram, do you remember this?



It was supposed to be a leaf.. Whatever.

Then there was DPCon, where there were crochet penis’s on purpose...
Then I crocheted a rather large penis for Cabbage’s boss... Remember that?


Well, for this hen’s weekend I crocheted a penis handbag for the bride to be to carry all of her precious things in, and for the poor appendage challenged blow up doll, and also for people to wear on our nights out.

Well, the bag was a hit. I actually got orders from people I didn’t even know, who gave me their details and asked if they could buy one. Turns out people are very particular about their penises. Circumcised, uncircumcised, they want certain lengths, certain colours, certain girths!!

I have questions right..;

Is there gap in the handmade penis market out there just waiting to be filled?
(That’s what she said)

Because thing is, that I have a really hard time explaining… (Heh... Hard) what I do for a living as it is. I mean the media and shows like fashion bloggers have definitely helped in this area. I have far fewer people asking me to explain what I do any more, but how would I explain this new venture?

‘Yeah, what do you do?”
“I am a crocheter of penis”

Could I even write that on a form? Is Blogger/penis bag maker just too much to explain?

What would I even call these things?

 I was thinking.... Yer Mum’s fun bags. 

Too much?

What do you think? Are you or anyone you know in need of a penis bag?

Em xx