Well hello!

I’m a gay freelance journalist, Sydney-born-and-bred.
Lois is me. Or maybe I’m her.
Allow me to explain.
Lois has been residing in a cramped but cunningly appointed storage unit of my brain for many years. I learned to listen to her constant objections against what she viewed as insufferable social infractions with the bemusement of a new colleague or old friend – nodding, tutting and/or sipping on cue – but gradually her arguments began repeating, beating against my conscience until her voice attained a pitch of such shrill despair I just couldn’t bear it any longer.

So she’s all yours now.

I promise to offset her bile (a little sour cream and freshly torn coriander does wonders) with some lighter moments, local drama and a few real men. You know, with hair.