Friday, September 24, 2010

Shout out's on Heritage Day

This week was extremely busy - what with having to cancel my leave (yes, insanity has taken hold of me), having to attend all day meetings the whole week and dealing with work financial crises. But its a public holiday and I'm finding myself rather... alone. The BF is going to his high school reunion and they are not allowing partners. (Just lower that eyelid!)
And the BFF is at her mother-in-law's celebrating her sis-in-law making it to the Top 40 in Popstars - so go out and support Anray Amansure.

Speaking of support, watch my BF's music video -
I get down for Cape Town.
He is so hot!!!

So since I'm all solo and stuff I'm considering going shopping, or making the first move and calling some girls to join me for sundowners. Either way, I'm going to make the most of being solo for today.

Unless you wanna hang out? I'm just saying...if you wanna hang out I'm totally cool with that. Or not. Like whatever.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

"Is this my beginningggggg....or is this the eeeeeeeeeend"

"When will I see you agaaain. (when will i see you again)
Ha ha...ooooh ooo ooooh (precious moments)"

When will I see you again - The Three Degrees

Who listens to music from the 1970's? Just me then? Hmmm k.

So I are gymming in the am now ya'll! It is beginning to become a need. My alarm goes off at 6, and by 6:30 I am so awake my bed becomes annoying. So its either waste an hour laying there thinking about going to gym, or actually getting up and going. The getting up is easier to deal with than the guilt.

Today I got up, but didn't go to gym. I thought I was being clever.
"Why don't I get up and clean my flat before work instead of going to gym? That way when I come home it will be clean."

Brilliant right? WRONG. I'm so tired right now I could pass out on my keyboard and not be at all concerned that I will have qwerty inprinted backwards on my forehead. And I only got to do the bathroom! I guess it is either a sign of how dirty my bathroom actually was, or how I really hate cleaning. The latter I think, cos that is way less embarrassing.

Food has become my new hobby. Like really, I'm becoming obsessed. I want to try all these different recipes and am looking to eat less animal products. It's cheaper and healthier and tastes good - but we all know way less delicious than meat or chicken. I know I'm not going to be fooling anybody whose had a juicy medium-rare steak prepared just right. Oh god...

So basically what I'm saying is that I'm bored and hungry at work and now I'm reading food blogs. I will peruse what is available and let you guys know next week if I have a favourite.

Yes, you heard me, I'll try and post at least once a week so that Sid is not the only one in charge of wasting your bosses money. LOL.

Friday, September 3, 2010

I’m not into boobies...

So I’ve been very quiet lately. In three lines: I lost my lus to blog (basically my life became boring). The Ex is now The Boyfriend (hereafter referred to as the BF). And work got really busy. So there are my excuses – build a bridge and get over it.

So sometime in January I forgot something that was really important to the BF. Don’t ask me what it was because I forgot, so ja. As penance I offered to make it up to him, whatever he wanted. He wanted a striptease. From me.
I was like “err...not so much”. So I offered to buy him one. Smart right? Again, err...not so much. As the day drew closer I imagined the strippers wanting to shove their boobs and butts in my face...ew. Imagine, vajay-jay all up in my space. Yuck.

So after months of waiting, we finally went to Mavericks the other day. I have to say that I have never felt so fat, nor so secure in my relationship. Strange no? The decor made me think of a Cuban bar, where all the rum and cigar plantations owners come to have a drink, a cigar, and pat a pretty girl’s behind. You know, just lam it uit.

The women were absolutely gorgeous. Although I felt fat (they walk around in outfits that would make the Pussycat Dolls blush), I realised I had the biggest boobs in the house (oh yeah!). This would play a role later...

So we get in (R100 for guys, R50 for girls – I know, ouch) and sit down at a table. There is a beautiful woman dancing on a stage above the bar, doing the most amazing acrobatic things on a golden pole. I’m not bicurious, but damn they are mesmerising. The girls dance for two songs, first song is just hip-hip-turn-butt shake, and then second song is expose breasts-climb pole-slide upside down-back flip off. I say it again. DAMN!

“Cocktail, now!”

So I’ve given the BF R250 to buy himself the attention of any girl he likes. Knowing firsthand what he likes, I’m looking for big boobies with nice butt (ahem). Unfortunately most of the girls are A/B cups with no booty, so it was slim pickings. All he wants is a table dance, which we are advised by our waitress would be better enjoyed in a booth. The booths are separated by glass and are at the back, which limits your view of the stage a bit. But we had still not seen the girl that was gonna make my BFs wish come true. The waitress explained that the girls are wary of couples. Apparently some women are not as cool and secure as I am (ahem). Or they just didn’t order a big enough cocktail.

So she sends a bevy of Colombian beauties to our table. My man is in shock, visibly drooling and I am momentarily forgotten. The girls are beautiful, friendly and are visibly afraid that I am a bitch. I smile and try not to make any sudden movements. So the BF requests that one of the ladies sits and chats with him and that the others come back later. I am mildly taken aback by this. I am not paying for a “Let’s get to know each other – NO WAY! I love that song too!” session. But, being the cool and secure woman I am I give them some space and move to the next table and watch the other strippers wow me with their gravity-defying pole tricks. Don’t worry ladies, I let him know that homey don’t play dat. “You talk to them one more time, and you are going home single”, or something like that. The cocktail was very strong.

The club started to fill up so we moved to a booth in preparation for our table dance. The BF had seen the girl he liked and wanted to place his order with the waitress. While we waited for the waitress we were given a taste of what to expect, as in the next booth a blonde bombshell was giving this group of guys a table dance. There was the expected boobs and butt being rubbed in the face. But then it got too much for me. The glass has a pattern embossed that adds a smokey feel to being in the booth, and why I had not noticed that she was not wearing her g-string anymore. She gets on their laps and partially straddles their faces. Hmmm.

Then she fingered herself.

Removed the finger.




Of course the BF got even more excited for his dance... and I ordered another cocktail.

We finally order with the waitress, “I want Catalina”, and wait for Catalina to appear. A cute Russian woman with a black bob, porcelain skin and bright red lips comes over and asks if she can borrow our booth, “I hev a group off guys thet vant table dens. Cen you moov for leetle beet?” all the while rubbing my thigh with the coldest hands I have ever felt – she could have been a vampire, and I would have let her turn me. We explain that we are also getting a dance and that our girl is on her way, so if they don’t mind waiting they can have the booth for the night when we are done. 5min later Catalina arrives, and she is not the girl he wanted. “You are so embarrassing baby! You can’t even get the names right.”

He goes off and finds his girl, who is eating at the time, so we have to wait again. Russian cutie comes back, “Yoo arre still vaiting? I cen dens vor yoo. I know how to moov my body. I cen geev yoo goodt show ja.” And with that last sentence, she starts gently stroking my boobs.
Cue nervous laughter.
OMG she’s touching me! Ha ha ha. She’s touching mee!!! HA HA HA HA!!”

The BF: “That looks nice, but no.”

Russian cutie says “Oh khay, why not get a privet dens then? It’s only R50 more end yoo enjoy it more.” This was enough to sell the BF, so we decide that he is going for a private dance by himself and I get to NOT see a girl flick her vagina juice into his face. Win-win.

His girl has finished her supper, and we part ways. Him off to get his dance, and me to sit by myself like some lonely lesbian and watch strippers climb that pole baby. He came back, enjoyed the topless midnight parade (they do a mini parade at 12) and then we left. I asked him if he enjoyed himself and he said yes. Nuff said. I don’t need to hear more than that.

Funny enough, I had a good time myself. And we both had a good time later.... if you know what I mean. ;-)