Thursday, December 10, 2009

Back from my Sabbatical

Hey everybody

I know,I know. Where the hell have I been and how dare I think I can just come waltzing back in as if nothing has happened and I can just go back to that whore I was with because I've got another thing coming if I think you were sitting around waiting for me!




That about it? Feel better now? Good.

So I've been rather busy lately, well not really but let's just say I was. Me and the ex are..."hanging out". It's really nice. :-) I'm happy, can you tell?

So let me tell you about Tuesday. I had a really nice day, which started the night before with me snuggling with The Ex. (Sigh. Shut up.) Tuesday was my good friend Sid's b-day so we had some awesome cake at work, and then I rushed off to have my hair done and then the evening was spent having cocktails with the girls. I was very Sex and the City. Minus the weird clothes, because seriously, who dresses like that?

But then just as I thought karma was doing me a good turn BAM! They broke into my car. I say "they" because that's usually who you blame. You know, them! I came out of the restaurant to find my beautiful car defiled and raped. They did not just break into my car, they BROKE my car! The bent the door so that they could put their hand in from above and open the door. They opened her up like a two dollar whore.

They stole my shades and an old jacket, but best of all, the remote control to my car frontloader. What. the. FUCK!!! Why take the remote? WHY?!!!! I swear that is the thing that sent me over the edge, because before I found out about the remote I was relatively stable. But that was the last straw. So the next motherfucker is getting a butter knife in the neck. Yes, a butter knife. I am that pissed off. The cherry is that my excess on the insurance is 8 times the value of the things that were stolen!

And that is how my day turned from a Sex and the City episode to a cheap version of Law & Order: Useless Crimes. The trip to the police station was hilarious at best, mildly annoying at worst. I got there at 11:40pm, only to be met by a half asleep detective, and then have my statement taken by a women that I saw sleeping in the corner when I came in. She continued to make spelling mistakes on my form, and at one point had to scrap the first draft because it would be easier to start over than grab some tippex. The latest is that I will have to replace the door. Fuck!

New hairstyle = R150

Dinner with friends = R180

R200 of stuff stolen from car causing R1600 of damage = PRICELESS!


To take my mind off above-mentioned breakage of car door, I have been indulging in only the fun parts of work, and reading lamebook.com

It is seriously hilarious. This is my current favourite.

Friday, November 13, 2009

For the Grown Folks

Mortality.

The biggest and scariest word (to me anyways) in the English language. Today I am being faced with my own mortality. I am not She-Ra (shoutout to the 80's superhero comics.)

See? This is exactly what I am talking about. I'm getting old. I am now in the age bracket where I'm still young and hip enough (and can actually afford) to do stuff, but old enough to do them in moderation so that I don't feel like a zombie the next day and I still have money in my bank account. But I remember a time when all those things did not matter. I would go out and think "Fuck sleep, who needs that? I'm PARTYING! My last 20 bucks on a round of shooters? WHY NOT?!!"
Now if I stay out past midnight on a weeknight the next day is one of sleep-deprived torture, constantly watching the minutes tick by as time crawls towards the hour of my freedom from corporate bondage.

Sid: It's like there's this limit of fun that my body can handle. If I go over that limit my body complains.

I couldn't have said it better myself. What happened to my staying power? Where did all that stamina go? Why is it now impossible for me to get by with 5 hrs sleep, when back in the day I stayed up once for 38 hrs straight. Partying! People went to bed, woke up in shifts to keep me company. I was on FIRE!

But all that is gone now, and I'm having a hard time accepting it.
You see, last night I indulged in the Thursday night party at Galaxy. (Why? Because its Thursday, DUH!)
Galaxy is the oldest club in Cape Town, and still the best ever. I was all responsible and everything. Left the club at 1, had a shower and went to bed. Today I feel like the walking dead. The worst is that I didn't even drink (had two ciders, no kak).

I want my 18-22 yr old body back. She was a trooper. She could party. I don't like this 26 yr old wuss. She is a fader.

Bitch.

I am totally aware that I'm getting older. That there are certain things that society is politely going to tell me to stop wearing, stop eating, stop saying, and places I'll have to stop going, just to make sure that I really enjoy the last few years before my inevitable death. (Thanks Society. You're so giving that way.) Unless I reach Madonna status (which if you knew me, you'd know is VERY likely), and then I just won't give a fuck.

Friday, November 6, 2009

I'm back...

So once again I am denouncing alcohol. Don't look at me like that! I can stop whenever I want!!

Fuck you...

Alcohol has been fun, but now I'm trying to get serious. Serious about life, about me and the things I want. (Like I've already said for the hundredth time). It doesn't mean that I'm not going to miss that beautiful buzz you get after a few drinks, and then allowing myself to sink into that beautiful pool of "I don't give a fuck what you think cos I just came here to DANCE!"

Sigh...I'm really gonna miss that feeling the most. Don't get me wrong, drunk or sober I'm an AWESOME dancer. Like Fame, only better cos its unrehearsed. I am Mad "Freestyler" Phoenix yo.

And before you people think this is one of those "I'm never having a drink again", its just for a while.

Think I might start smoking that tabasco again. Did that a lot with my ex, we kinda used it as a band aid to an its-ok-but-not-really relationship. Everyone who has been in a relationship knows exactly what I mean.

But now we are friends so maybe we can use it to heal over any cracks that might hamper the lovers-to-friends transition.

In unrelated news I lost a follower last week. I was all the way up to 5, and then the deserter decided that he/she didn't like checking up on an un-updated blog. So sorry to everybody else for being so quiet, and fuck you deserter!

I was at a loss for what to say. What did The Don call it?

Oh yeah, blogstipation. LOL, love that word.


Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Halloween Post: I'm going as a black fairy

"dressing up as lara croft this year and it was all mad phoenix's idea. AND SHE IS SO BRILLIANT!" Sid Kane's gchat status.

Now if this is not an indication that my plan to take over the world one brilliant blogger at a time is working beautifully, then I don't know what is.

If you have a blog, be forewarned. I'm in your head. You don't know it, and you won't feel it. But I'm there. You will bow to me...one day!

MWA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

I'm getting old, but at least I have good hair.

My best friend is pregnant!
Very exciting news until I took a step back and really looked at the situation. I'm 26, single with no kids, and with no sign of either changing anytime soon. Hmmm. Took me back to my mini freak out I had a while back. Follow the link to bask in my pathetic-ness (I make up words, get over it.)

I think the problem is that I've been comparing myself to other people. Take Jewels: happily married for 2 and half years and now having a baby. She is 28. The timetable is on track for her, in that respect. I on the other hand have lived on a Sub-Antarctic island for a year, been to Spain by myself and have a semi-successful-on-the-right-track career and have the financial freedom to do just about anything I want (except buy a house because let's just face it you need a double income for that shit). I'm 26. Who's life would you prefer?

The answer: the other person's.
It's the old cliche that the grass is always greener, and you never miss the water, blah blah blah.

I'm so not falling for that crock of shit anymore. I'm in control. This didn't just happen to me, because I am The Architect. (For all those born in the 90's or who live under a rock, this is a reference to The Matrix). I've decided that from now on I need to be the one making decisions, because going with the flow is just not working for me anymore. I need to be willing to take risks if I want rewards. And I need to acknowledge the good things in my life, before I go head-first trying to create a new one. Because its not all bad. I just need to start weeding out the shit that wastes my time, and refocus that time on something constructive. And I need to realise that great things are not achieved by great deeds, but by consistently doing the same little deed everyday.

Geez, sorry guys. This has really turned into a pep-talk to myself instead of a deep and profound post. FAIL.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Birthday Madness Weekend - free advertising

So this weekend is exceptionally full for me. I've got three friends who are having birthdays in one week. Any coincidence that this week signifies the middle of spring, when food starts to become abundant again and the days become warmer? Hmm - biology is a beautiful thing.

K, so back to my hectic weekend. Birthday one: after work drinks and snacks at Jamaica Me Crazy (affectionately known as JMC). Really good food, great drinks, and Monday Madness means you get to enjoy both for half the price, whilst there is happy hour everyday with selected cocktails at half price from 5-6, so its the perfect hangout for an after-work destress session.

Next Birthday: my cousin's gorgeous girlfriend (and I don't just say that because its her b-day, she is REALLY PRETTY...bitch) is having a party at a club in the Northern Suburbs of Cape Town, Living Room. (Stupid name, I know. Why don't they just call it The Lounge? But then it would probably get confused with the old Lounge that is now called Zula. Yes people, me and Town go way back). She has a guestlist, so entry is free for me! Oh yeah baby, me love me some free shit. Living Room is a bit uppity, and the drinks are a tad more expensive but then you got a DRANK! and not some excuse for a shot.

Then finally Saturday there are drinks at my place with some friends (as you can see, I have a liver of steel!) Afterwards is a b-day party at Strata Lounge in the South. Lansdowne to be more precise. It's more of a little sister club to the very big @mosphere - which is a playground. If you are older than 22, don't bother. It's not for you. They should change the name to Jailbait. Once again I am on a guestlist, so more free shit for MP!! Whoop whoop!!!

So guys please wish me luck as I set off at 5pm on my adventure. Did I mention that I'm on allergy meds which could have a nasty interactions with alcohol? I'm looking forward to see how nasty they can be. I'm nothing if not thorough.

What are you up to? Going out or laying low this weekend? Either way, enjoy and pray no one let's me drive this weekend.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Whatever happened to Ralph Macchio? He was so cute!

After my brilliant previous post (hey, I'm nothing if not modest) I've been suffering from writer's block. How do I top that?!!! But whatever. Next subject.

Muay thai!!!

I wanna learn so badly. This has been sitting in the back of mind for almost a year now. I particularly wanna join the Dragon Power gym. Is that the most awesome name for a gym or what?!!! AND the owner is a world Muay Thai Champion! I will be his Daniel-san and he will be my Miyagi. Its gonna be so AWESOME!!!

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Mini House episode: What's been up lately?

I've lost 3kg in 2 months. Not bad. Until I became premenstrual and my body retained so much water that I gained those 3kg back. Oh yeah, happy times.
As if my pms wasn't bad enough you wanna tell me I gained weight mother fucker?! That's right, I'm looking at you Mr Scale! You know what, FUCK YOU! All you ever do is look at me all judgementaly and call me fat, you insensitive jerk! I wish you would just fuck off and DIE! (runs off crying)

One week later: Hey Mr Scale, I'm sorry about our fight. I know we both said some harsh things but I'm sure we can just put it all behind us and move forward. Together.
Well, would you look at that! Those 3kg are gone again. Well isn't that just the darndest thing...

So my life has been rather exciting lately, but first, let me put you in the scene. I am a House MD fanatic. Best. Series. EVER! However, this addiction has one rather nasty side effect. Every little thing I see on my body makes me believe I have an incredibly rare autoimmune disease, OR I need to go to the hospital so they can stick a huge needle in me before they can make a diagnosis. I freak myself out on a regular basis. Like the whole weight gain in the beginning of this blog. I was all, I have cushions! There is a tumour in my brain that is pushing down on my pituitary gland, which is causing all my hormones to go hay wire leading to this inexplicable weight gain, moodiness and lethargy! OMG I'M GOING TO DIE! usually follows one of these self-diagnoses. But then the "symptom" goes away and I realise for the hundredth time that maybe I should watch less House.

Then came this weekend. I had a really good weekend. I went to visit my friend and watched The Proposal (super funny guys), went to a mad good braai and scored some wee...hey! Are you wearing a wire?!

So that was Friday and Saturday, totally awesome days. Sunday, not so much. Woke up with a cold sore between my chin and my bottom lip. I don't know what that area is called but it was not really on my chin, and it was not on my lip so that is the best I can do. But that was not the problem. Herpes simplex, relatively harmless virus that is forever in your spinal fluid and flares up when your immune system is a bit down from stress or fatigue. Easily explained away. (FYI: Herpes simplex is the good herpes, it keeps the bad genital herpes away. I am not ashamed. And no I did not make out with anyone that is not how you get it!)

So like I was saying, got a cold sore. No big deal. BUT THEN...DUN DUN DUNNNN!
I rested my head on my hand just under my chin and recoiled at my own touch. The area under my chin was swollen and painful to touch. Immediate thought: CANCER! God, where is Wilson when you need him?! I spent all morning trying to calm myself down in the middle of my PMS-House paranoia. I saw the lumbar puncture tests, the biopsies, the failed chemo, the removal of my submandibular gland to find that its NOT CANCER! What's the differential?!!!

Now for the anti-climax. Went to the doc and he said it was an inflammation/infection of the ...come on, we did this just two seconds ago. That's right, the submandibular gland. This had been brought on by the cold sore, which as we know was set off by the immune system being down from the stress/fatigue. He gave me some antibiotics and pain meds.
I have finished the meds and feel a little better. Took two days off. Was beautiful man. I got to watch House all day!!!


Friday, September 25, 2009

I'm ok now. No, really. I SAID I'M OK DAMMIT!!!

Sorry bout the last couple of posts, I've been going through some hormone issues. I suppose its only natural when you get injected with fertility drugs so you can sell you eggs on the internet. I did tell you about that right? No? Ok then, forget I mentioned it.
Erm.... (awkward).

OK, so this weekend I am not planning anything. Well I definitely need to do some laundry (but don't worry, I'm masking the smell with free
perfume samples so I'm still good until tomorrow.)
And as part of my new mission to accomplish... something (anything!), I've decided that I'm going back to salsa classes. I liked it, it liked me, so I really don't know what went wrong. I should have asked my belly dance class to ask him why he stopped talking to me but then I would've seemed so grade 8, and NO ONE wants to seem grade 8 (you know, clingy but in a non-commital sort of way). But that would also have led to another awkward conversation becos I stopped going to my belly
dance class because I met a smarter and cuter belly dance class and was giving the old belly dance class the silent treatment and avoiding its calls so that it would get the hint (very grade 9, I know). Stop judging me!




Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Wait for meeee...!!!

(I ignore you)
As I close my eyes,
I feel it all slipping away
(I come towards you)
We all got left behind,
We let it all slip away
Left Behind by Slipknot

I've been feeling really insecure lately. I don't know when I started feeling like this, but its been a niggling thing for a while. I'm feeling like life, real life, is passing me by. I haven't done anything I've ever really wanted to do. Not really. I wanted to meet the love of my life, get married (tres cliche I know), and have a bunch of kids while maintaining the inner tension of my va jay jay (don't pretend that you've never been worried about that decreasing after childbirth).

I wanted to be settled. Have my house, building towards my old age, achieved all the little things...
Play my guitar properly. Learn the drums, build the bookshelf I've always wanted, achieve that bikini body, RECYCLE!!!

I'm 26, and I haven't done any of it. Is it too late?

Monday, September 21, 2009

Damn you hormones, damn you to heck!

I'm not mad. I'm not even a little upset. I'm just really sad and disappointed right now. Whether it's in you or more in myself, I don't know. All I know is there is this heavy feeling in my chest that pulls my shoulders forward and makes me hang my head. I don't know where it came from, or even when it started. I just know that when I realised what was happening to me it was too late. All I want to do is climb into bed and pull the covers over my head. (Hey, that rhymes.)

Friday, September 18, 2009

A quick tirade

So this weekend was supposed to be a big girly fest celebrating the day one of my very dear girlfriends, Danny, was born. Unfortunately she has opted to spend it with the boyfriend. So now I and Jewels, my other dear girlfriend, are going to do the girly thing on our own.

But it made me think about all the times women put other people’s needs and wants before their own. Why do we do that? WTF is wrong with us?! I admit I’ve done it too. It’s like having a (in the words of the Almighty Oprah) va jay jay is the underlying cause for being a people-pleasing pushover. I suffered from that complex and was harshly judged by my girlfriends for it, and rightly so. I deserved to me admonished. I had neglected them because I wanted to “nurture my relationship”. What utter BS!

Women start to neglect their friends and interests because they want their man to feel they are there for him and down for whatever he would like to do. Let’s just throw out the window the fact that who you were in the beginning is what got him all hot and bothered in the first place. No, let’s just become what he wants and needs because obviously he is now the alpha and omega of your universe. Right?!

Fuck this shit. I’m going to enjoy myself and not feel as though I’ve been thrown away for a human vibrator. Even though that’s exactly what it feels like.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Well slip into the velvet glove, And be jaded (Aerosmith)

I’m one of those people who try to stay foolishly optimistic. I believe in the good in people, and especially hope for the best in men (being heterosexual and all). So it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve fallen on my face when it comes to relationships, I’ve always been able to retain that “first love” excitement when it comes to relationships. (Na├»ve and dangerous, I know, shut up!)
But lately I’ve felt as though that chapter of my life has closed, the desire to be desired has faded. I mean sure, we all want to be in a stable relationship so we can procreate more effectively right?
See! This is what is wrong with me. This is how I’ve been thinking lately.”I need someone who I can buy a house with, have babies with, save for retirement with.”

I no longer long for romance. I would rather be in a relationship based on mutual respect than fall in love. But then I wonder if I am doing this to myself in some subconsciously messed up way. Am I retreating from my emotions because the disappointment that follows another failed relationship is not worth the effort? Meaning: An accidental brush on my arm won’t give me gooseflesh. That when my eyes meet those of some handsome stranger there will be now butterflies in my tummy. That a first kiss will lose its electricity, a first time will lose its passion.
How fucking sad is that?!

I need a vacation some where warm, with lots of hot, extremely tan men. Where Marcello or Vincenzo is an average name. Know what I mean?

Friday, September 11, 2009

Warning: Friendship zone ahead!


So Sid and I are at work, wasting time (obviously) by chatting up a storm, and somehow the conversation leads to the explanation of “The Friendship Box”. You see, I met a guy a few years ago who I immediately placed in the Friendship box. He was a little perturbed when he tried to ask me out and I was all "But we're friends!"
"How the hell did I become your friend? This is some bullshit. Don't I even have a say?"
I gave Sid the same explanation I gave him, and I thought by blogging about it this could be my good deed for the day.

Well fellas, there is good and bad news. You don’t have to do anything to be placed in the friendship box. Usually, it is completely NOT YOUR FAULT. Don’t let ladies fool you with that “I want someone with a nice personality” bullshit. Women decide within the first 5 seconds if they are going to sleep with you. Yes gentleman, FIVE! Five seconds is all you have. Hence the first 5 seconds can only be based on a physical attraction right? WRONG! I said I would explain, I never promised for it to make sense.

Sometimes it’s how someone has described you, the shirt you are wearing, your cologne, how you shook her hand, whether you said Hi or Hello, and a million other possible reasons that ultimately mean you ain’t hittin’ that. EVER.

Hence, I like to refer to the entrance of the Friendship Zone as the Friendship Trapdoor. Once you have sprung the trapdoor there is a slide that leads down to the Box. Once in the box it is virtually impossible to climb out. And yes, we are well aware that you poor schmucks try to crawl your way out of there. It’s just not happening dude.

However, for a select few (and I’m talking to you hot boy that works in IT) is a Get-Out-of-Friendship-Box Free Card. But what about the 5 second rule, you say? You didn’t read the fine print, did you?
Yes, the first 5 seconds are where she decides if
she would or wouldn't, but do not necessarily mean that you are Trapdoor approved. It just means that instead of having to climb up a slide, you might just have some very steep stairs.
I'm sure there are gonna people out there all indignant "the rules are not consistent!"
Hey, I never said this process was fair, or even well thought out. This is the process. Just like the modern day money system, it doesn't need to make logical sense to work.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Warm daydream on a cold spring morning

It was a cool morning. The warm tropical breeze swept her hair into her face as she walked out onto the dark sand, relishing the cold coarse feeling between her newly woken toes. She pinned her hair back with her hand and watched the red and yellow play on the clouds behind an indigo sky as the sun was making its way along the passage of twilight to dawn.

She smiled. The peace of the morning was enhanced by the sound of birds, unseen in the thick trees behind her, going about their business. Hurrying to catch the last meal before their prey would disperse from the magnification of the sun’s rays. She had not brushed her teeth, nor done her hair, put on make-up, or even dressed for that matter. The bed sheet that formed her makeshift dress reached out to the waves that lapped pleadingly towards her.

Abandoning her sheet to the wind, she stepped to the water’s edge. Its warmth enveloped her from feet to head as she stepped her naked form into it. Surrounded she surrendered her body to its sway and ebb, allowing herself to drift helplessly in tune with its rhythm.

She felt the warmth of the sun on her face as it broke through the barrier of the clouds, then plunged her head under the water. When she came back up, she laid her body flat on the water’s surface. Let it hold her, support her. Move her.

She smiled.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Bag Lady by Erikah Badu

"Bag lady you gon hurt your back
Dragging all them bags like that
I guess nobody ever told you
All you must hold on to
Is you, is you, is you"

I love music ya'll. But this is somewhat of a generic expression. There is no-one in the world that can say they don't like music. It is one of those things that is in everyone's "Interests" box (and I checked yours and its so there).

I am a fan of all genres, except seriously heavy metal and contemporary jazz. I can't stand the unmelodic shoop de boob boobity boob poop ba dow. It's apparenty called scat. It's sounds like a term that should be used to describe cat feaces. The cat scat on the mat.
Seriously, buy a tune.


So the title of this blog is one of the songs that made me fall in love with Ms Erykah Badu. She are a badass! She is a cool, cultured, and educated female from "the streets". She dated the antithesis of an oil painting Andre 3000 way back and then upgraded to that delicious tall glass of chocolate milk Common. Hmmm...
But he is seeing Miss Serena W. now so ja... :-(

But back to the song. Bag Lady is a catchy little ditty about how you need to let go of your issues because what happens to you, and specifically in a relationship does not have to define you. Having recently come out of a relationship I can relate on so many levels to the words. The lyrics are seemingly simple, yet the messages behind them are quite complex. I thought about this when I was recently chatting to my friend on gchat. We had made a date to talk on Skype (who sucks ass b.t.w. since it didn't want to work), and I told her that she may be a bit surprised by my appearance (understatement warning):

"ja, but I picked up a lot of "relationship" weight
LOL
I have baggage
extra junk in my trunk
LOL"

The LOLs were real then, now its like they are mocking me because when I wrote it I didn't realise how true they were on an emotional/psychological level and not just a physical one. It's weird how the most profound things come out of your mouth when your actually just trying to be funny or attempting to be a smart ass.

Lupe the Fiasco dot blogspot dot com...WHY?!!!

So if you've never heard of the rapper Lupe Fiasco, its ok. Until a few months ago neither did I. But OMG he is so DOPE!!! Yes, this is the blog where I will be pretending I grew up on the mean streets of Brooklyn, NY. At least I think they mean. That's what I heard...ya know, on the down low. The DL. I gots the 411. While I was hustlin' on the corner. (And by hustling I mean selling narcotics, not my body.) Ok, I'm losing my train of thought.
Whatever, I'm going with it.

So last night my flatmate had a dinner party. I know!
Tres grownup no?!! I didn't do anything (it wasn't MY party) but did enjoy some fine dining. Hmm, home-made chicken chow mein. So we had an Islamic lady at the party, and she was telling us the story of when she got married and how her grandmother came the next day to "collect the laundry" (they check the honeymoon sheets for blood to confirm the girl was a virgin) and was surprised when her granddaughter's hair was not washed (everytime a muslim woman has sex she must wash her hair afterwards).

I was like "Imagine I was muslim growing up. Everytime my mom washed her hair....EW!!!!"

So ja, Lupe Fiasco. Isn't that name just so awesome?! It's almost as cool as Captain Steel, but he would be Captain Steel's arch-nemesis. I see him as the gangsta H.N.I.C. (if you don't know what that stands for you are sooo not gangsta.) with his finger in every pie, using his super-powers for creating mayhem wreaking havoc over the city. Come on people! Somebody that can draw bring life to this most genius of visions!!!

But
I digress, again. You people should listen to this man's music. Here is a piece of my fave line from my fave song, Gold Watch:
"I am American mentally with Japanese tendencies
Parisian sensibilities so stay out the vicinity of..."
I mean, that is just...WOW!

One song that really sticks out for me is where he deals with the boy soldiers in Central Africa, but starts it off with a look at how guns are misused by youth around the world. "Little Weapon" is political/social commentary music at its most blatantly subtle.

Little Terry got a gun, he got from the store,
He bought it with the money he got from his chores,
He robbed candy shop told her lay down on the floor,
Put the cookies in his bag took the pennies out the drawer.

Little Kalil got a gun he got from the rebels,
To kill the infidels and American devils,
A bomb on his waist,
A mask on his face,
Prays five times a day,
And listens to Heavy Metal.

Little Alex got a gun he took from his dad,
That he snuck into school in his black book bag,
His black nail polish, black boots and black hair,
He's gonna blow away the bully that just pushed his ass...

[Lupe Fiasco]
I killed another man today,
Shot him in his back as he ran away,
Then I blew up his hut with a hand grenade,
Cut his wife's throat as she put her hands to pray,
Just five more dawgs then we can get a soccer ball,
That's what my commander say,
How Old?
Well I'm like ten, eleven, been fighting since I was like six or seven,
Now I don't know much about where I'm from but I know I strike fear everywhere I come,
Government want me dead so I wear my gun, I really want the rocket launcher but I'm still too young,
This candy give me courage not to fear no one,
To fear no pain, and hear no tongue,
So I hear no screams and I shed no tear,
If I'm in your dreams then your end is near.



Thursday, August 13, 2009

You're kidding, right?!

Sorry I've been lazy lately, I know you feeling neglected and unloved my dear, sweet blog. Unfortunately I was a bit sick (check out Sid's blog about Friday night, times that by two and you'll know why). But I'm all better now and mommy will never ever leave you again!

So I'm all sick yesterday and I'm checking my e-mails from home. Obviously I didn't open any attachments, I mean, that's what work internet is for. Duh!
So today I'm back in the office and as everyone knows checking your personal e-mail is always top priority when you are at work, and lo and behold my cousin has sent me one of those chinese proverb powerpoint presentation thingies. It's all about how money can buy you this but it won't get you that. You know, the usual "love vs. money, don't be a capitalist" communist propaganda that you have to forward to at least 20 people or your life will turn to shit and do you really want to take that chance because someone actually ignored this mail and the next day had an accidental castration while going to remove his tonsils. No Bullshit.

Ooh, Ipod is playing use somebody by kings of leon. Love that voice!!!

So the powerpoint thingy, and this is where it gets funny peeps. I totally burst out laughing. Check out the print screen. I did not make this up, if you like I will forward it to you.

Like are you fucking serious?! There are some way deep Chino-Nordic(?) people in the world yo! If ever there was a time to hit delete it should have been here. But no, millions of dumbasses around the world have forwarded this to people they think need some enlightenment. Firstly, sending shit like this makes an inference on the person you sending it to. I personally don't need Jesus, I know I am a good woman, I am not giving money to a dying baby that has been the same age for the last 4 years, I already don't buy perfume in a parking lot and I'm not afraid of the person I love not calling me within 20min and then ending up alone for the rest of my life.

I wish I could get all insulted and self-righteous everytime someone sends me this shit, but then I have to remember that they got it from somebody else and did not have the presence of mind to think "What exactly is this ho tryin to say?!!" and probably would not get why my reply would be laden with sarcasm and disdane because "I thought it was so poignant and beautiful".

Death to the Forward button!!! You suck.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Lost in gchat translation

Actual conversation between me and Sid today.

me: is it wrong to use work broadband or whatever to download a big folder of music?

its only like 70MB

I mean, it could have been much worse

Sid: i'm using it now to download music

me: lol

me too

Sid: but not 70MB? how many songs is that?

me: like 14

its zipped

Sid: well Roy did say that they were looking for ppl who were abusing the net

if you're willing to take the risk ...

me: when did he say this?

Sid: last week friday

me: and he knows this how?

Sid: apparently they told him

me: LOL

Sid: not sure how true this is

me: I think he was downloading porn

HA HA HA

they spoke to him, privately

Sid: hey that's MY MAN you're talking about there

me: they looking for "people" who are "abusing" the "internet"

LMFAO!!!

Sid: you know what i meant

geez

me: I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at me!

HA Ha HA

best use of " ever!!!

just say it out loud using the ""

Sid: ?

me: nevermind

Ges you had to be there

was so funny

Sid: yeah paris hilton

oh i mean phoenix

ooops my bad

me: LOL

me: I'm putting this conversation in my blog

it's gold

Sid: which part of your convo?

Sid: oh great now someone is documenting MY life

me: LOL

Sent at 15:37 on Friday


(5 minutes later)

Sid: lol
I get it now
I finally get the ""
me: I have to add this now
LOL

And if you don't get why this is funny, you don't deserve the ability to read and infer meaning from words.

PS: In case you were wondering, they didn't catch me. :-D

Thursday, August 6, 2009

So THAT was weird!!!

Last night I went to bed kinda late. And then I played Vortex on my Ipod for half an hour before falling asleep. Now I don't know if its because I was talking about marine worm identification with someone yesterday, or the fact that my mom's dog had puppies yesterday morning and my neice (5 yrs old) called me at 6 (I only wake up at 7:30) to tell me but last nights dream was rather...

Hmm, I don't know how to describe it in one word. Am I unworthy of blog?!!

So it starts with me moving into this huge house. Now I've been trying to save up for a deposit on a house for a while now and doing research on home loans, and in my dream this is now my house. Whoop whoop for me!!!

Anyways, me and the familia are unpacking boxes and still carrying stuff into the house. But for some strange reason I never see them, I just know they are there. I go outside to get another box to take into the house and there is this huge dark chocolatey mottled Scooby Doo dog outside. I love dogs, and I'm not scared of them at all even though I almost lost my right thumb in a dog biting incident when I was 4. So I go up to the dog and start playing with him and scratching his head. He puts his fore paws on my shoulders, and now we are the same height. And this is where the dream just went to shit julle. These spiky worm looking things fall from the dog onto my thighs (I'm wearing shorts, don't ask me why). And as I try to brush them off they start sinking into my skin.
I know, like WTF!!!

So they disappear under my skin, and I call my mother but she doesn't hear me. She's a nurse so she would probably know what the fuck just happened. The dog disappears, obviously satisfied that he has done his job of infecting me with whatever, and I make my way back into the house to find my mother. Then I feel this funny feeling in my legs. These worm things are moving under my skin. I can see and feel it! First they move up, and this is where I have a moment like that scene from Evolution where Orlando Jones has to decide between saving his balls or his leg. "Take the leg, take the leg!"

But then the worm things start moving down. Now they ar moving from my right to my left leg towards my left foot. And this is when I realise they were working on their exit strategy and have decided that the best place to leave is that space between your big toe and your other toe (on your hand its your forefinger, so I guess its your foretoe?)

Ok, so I'm feeling kinda relieved cos the worm things are leaving. Only its not worms that are coming out, its really big black fly thingies now. But they are relatively soft so I'm squishing them as they come out and I'm still calling for my mother and she is still not coming. Then my alarm went off and I woke up, feeling a little freaked out but mostly pissed cos my mom didn't pitch and I still don't know what the hell those things were.

PS: for those with a penchant for the mystical, take a stab at deciphering my dream. I'd love to hear what you think it might mean.

Monday, August 3, 2009

What’s in a name?

I’ve been in KwaZulu-Natal for the last five days. Was ok. Not too exciting. Went there for work, and used the opportunity to go and visit my TOTALLY you-know-that-word-that-people-use-to-describe-a-family-that’s-not-so-lekker-but-I-just-can’t-think-of-it-right-now family. (Everyone is going to put it in their comment. I can see it now, and I thank you in advance. What is that damn word?!!!)

Anyways, I flew back this afternoon and guess what the pilot’s name was…

Captain Steel.

Like. Oh. My. GAWD.

That has got to be the coolest name in the history of aviation.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentleman. Your pilot today is Captain Steel.”

I was like “What did just say?!” It sounds like a friggin super hero is flying the plane, and you know that shit makes you feel safe and cool for no reason other than it sounds cool. That man must be drowning in the puntang.

“Hey Susie, meet my friend. Captain Steel.” (Simultaneously swooning and panty creaming.)

I can see it now, the Captain Steel comic series. He is the pilot that saves the day from impending doom, always there when you need him.

“Oh no, the landing gear won’t lock.” (Scared voice of obviously ill equipped pilot.)

“Don’t worry! I, Captain Steel shall land the plane.” (In big booming superhero voice. Feel the bass.)

Please someone take these lines and draw a comic to go with it. This I need to see.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Why I should have been born in Spain


Firstly, good morning, good afternoon and good night. (I don't know where in the world or when you will read this so I'm covering my bases).

Today is Monday, and as per usual I should have gone to bed early last night but I didn't. I was enthralled in the most captivating fantasy trilogy ever. You got it peeps, the Lord of the Rings. Part III baby. Viggo Mortensen (aka Imahotmo Therfker) is so delish in that scene where he goes into the mountains to get the ghost army to fight for him. "What say you?!!!" (I say yes, yes, oh yes!)

So obviously I'm not regretting it one bit, but now I'm totally zombified with no fresh brains anywhere in sight. I need a jagerbomb (jagermeister and redbull). Which brings me to my point. Spain. Beautiful country, beautiful people, and best of all a beautiful culture.

Not only is it normal to have beer or wine with your breakfast (I know, I almost cried too), but they have the most beautiful work system in the world. I'm talkin' bout the siesta. The time you get to leave work and go have some lunch, take a nap and maybe do some laundry. Or you could go to the movies, take a swim or even go to the gym! The possibilities are endless!

Time baby! They give you time. They give anywhere from 2-3 hours. And today is one of those days where I need time. Mind you I've just come back from the bank which is on the other side of the peninsula (not really but just go with it) and I've been gone for almost 2 hours. But if I had siesta, the bank would be closed, forcing me to go home and chill out. Even though it meant I would have to be back at work at 15:00 and then work until 19:00, it would still be sooo fucking fantastic. Imagine what you could do in those precious 3 hours!

Besides the siesta, coloured people (most of them, not all) look like people from the south of Spain. I went there last year and everybody thought I was Spanish. It was mildly amusing (and I'll admit, very flattering) that people would speak spanish to me in the streets.

Pretend this is in Spanish: "What's the time? When is the bus coming? Are you a supermodel?"

Ok, so the last one I made up but it SO could have happened...:-D

Thursday, July 16, 2009

WTF is wrong with pink!!!

So here it is, my first blogpost on my very own blog. It’s strangely exciting, like everything else I start with much enthusiasm and gusto and then after a few weeks stop doing because it’s lost that new car smell. Like the time I bought myself a R800 guitar and only learned to play like 10 songs. And not even very well. But whatever.


So I got some help from Sid on setting this thing up, and when I picked the layout she was like “Oh. You chose pink.”

Add generous layer of condescension and judgement here.


WTF is wrong with pink?! I’m no girly girly, but pink is fucking awesome man! Even guys wear pink these days. (FYI: there is no such colour as salmon, ITS PINK!).


AND and and… it was the title of one of the hottest Aerosmith songs in history. I don’t see nobody writing a song about brown, or red or fucking fuschia for that matter. Pink baby. PINK!

And then Sid gets on my case because I have glitter on my Ipod. Fuck you, ok! I am a delicate fucking flower who likes glitter and pink. So. WHAT.


It’s like red but not quite….

PS: But she’s right, if I were her, I’d be ragging me too. :-P