Big Dags

ButchBitch mentioned the other day that she had flannie sheets on her bed, and was wondering how that would make her look if she picked up trade and brought them back home. Now, this is something that would never occur to me, either as guest or host. If it was the height of summer I might find it a little odd, but, even with my slight flannie fetish* aside, if we'd just crawled home in the cold rain I would be more than excited to be greeted by a warm fluffy bed. And anyone who complained would be thrust out into the street without their hot cocoa!

Then yesterday a conversation came up about dagginess, and it occurred to me that most of the people I love and care for are Big Dags really. Reading French philosophy on their flannie sheets, knitting in front of their favourite ABC shows, working 9-5 normal-people jobs, organising reading groups, tending their vegie patches, watching footy, baking cupcakes, buying their shampoo from the supermarket and their wifebeaters from Kmart. I don't have any too-cool-for-school friends. Sure, we make amazing art and give amazing performances and have amazing conversations and even more amazing sex, and cook amazing food and create amazing activism... but at the end of the day we often do it in our Uggies. And I like that. A lot.

* Would rather flannie sheets than silk sheets any day. Actually, same goes for shirts!