PROZAC needed

My last two post have put me in mortal danger of sounding like a girly-girl, I don’t know what came over me.
I mean actually posting up pictures of wedding dresses!!!! What is wrong with me?
Since I never delete post no matter how much I regret making them I am gonna try and divert your attention away from the blasphemy that I was momentarily driven too by an overdose of bridal web sites and lack of beer.
If you are into the girly kina thing I suggest you point your browser in the direction of Sam’s blog.
Yes it seams that that saucy little blond is back from the wasteland of facebook and is promising to stick around in blog land for a while.
I have reactivated her link and will keep it open for as long as she keeps on blogging.
This reminds me that Dan-O is also back from and elective exile doing god only knows what in god only knows where so you should saunter over to his place and add your comment to his already exhausting readers list.

Life in our little log cabin has been uncharacteristically quite and I think the silence is getting to my cats.
Yesterday I found Jabba trying to slit his wrists on a tuna tin.
I am a big enough person (Shut up Will) to shoulder most of the blame on this one as my attempts at anger management have resulted in a serious decline in swearing and high pitched opinionated monologs,
I believe that this also made me a more agreeable person as Will has been nice to me on two occasions this week, however since he put his hunny “Piglet” on a plane to Cape town for her Matriek holiday I am not worrying to much as the absence of the little pink blond will have him back to his tyrannically terrible mood in no time.

Stiffla has limited his living space to the one meter of carpet in front of his PC. I believe this is one of the side effects to “call of duty, modern war fare”.
The man has only left his post to eat, crap and pester me.
Admittedly I have been a bit of a slave to a PC recently too.
The book that Will and I are working on had its second installment posted on his blog this week, after which I decided that it was substandard and needed a desperate attitude adjustment.
I now feel like I have a laptop growing out of my thighs but I am almost done turning the one page installment into almost three pages.
Once this is done Will is gonna proof and approve before we put it up where I hope you guys will be able to help me with the magical fight that is giving me nightmares.

While searching for illustrations to inspire our characters I have also realized that I am slowly but surely leaving my goth art stage and entering a phase in my blogging that will be heavily colored by anime.
If you don’t like it build a bridge.

(notice the erratic train of thought as I skip to another subject)

People are like snotty noses… just when you think their gone for good they come back.
I have a friend like that.
We are girlfriends in the very true sense of the word.
Yes we grew up together and yes we hated one another most of the time, we stole each others boyfriends and made one another’s lives terrible.
She was there when my dad died despite the fact that we hadn’t spoken in over a year and she came back when my fiancé died.
We got drunk together, and danced on stages in skanky clubs for the hell of it, we got drunk together and made out and then we had a fight and then we made up.
She’s tones of fun and she’s a stunning looking woman and the fact it over shadowed by our immortal jealousy of one another.

But things have changed a little … she’s not fun anymore… in fact she’s a bit self conscious and a bit La-de-da.
I know this and I have told myself that we have grown past each other and I should just leave it.
But I can’t. that dreamy bit of me that reacts to smells and dejavu (shit how do you spell that) misses her terribly.
And sometimes that bit overrides the logical side that knows that those days are dead.
Why is that do you think.
Why do we always forget the bad so quickly and run back into our old mistakes with childlike hope and optimism.

Oh look at that I sound like a princess again
I may as well give up now, make my blog pink and build a shrine, to the power puff girls

wedding dresses

Since its Friday I am gonna spare you and strenuous neural activity that might be needed to decipher my normal blog content and instead I am juts gonna ask you which one you like more.
I will excuse all the guys if they don’t participate

I have been running through a few sights and I have found a selection of gowns that I love and I would like you guys to help me make up my mind

Dress one
This is my moms favorite and I am so into the red .


Dress two
This one is Stiffla’s favourite. and yes I am letting him see the dress



Dress Three
And this is one of my favorites I like all of them this is just the only one I found on my own



Now bunnies tel me what you like more.

Love

I rarely diviat from my very strickt no mushy post rule but when I got this e-mail I could not help myself.
I had been going through some wedding drss pictures telling myself how lucky I am that it really doesnt matter what dress I pick cos Stiffla will have that goofy "your perdy" look on his face anyway.
Then the cyber Gods sent me this
What Love means to a 4-8 year old . . .
Slow down for three minutes to read this. It is so worth it. Touching words from the mouth of babies.



A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?"

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:




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"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.
So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."

Rebecca- age 8


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"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.
You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

Billy - age 4


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"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."

Karl - age 5


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"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs."

Chrissy - age 6


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"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."

Terri - age 4


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"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."

Danny - age 7


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"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more.
My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss"

Emily - age 8


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"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."

Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)


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"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,"

Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)


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"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."

Noelle - age 7


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"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."

Tommy - age 6


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"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore."

Cindy - age 8


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"My mommy loves me more than anybody
You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."

Clare - age 6


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"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken."

Elaine-age 5


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"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford."

Chris - age 7


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"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."

Mary Ann - age 4


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"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones."

Lauren - age 4


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"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." (what an image)

Karen - age 7


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"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross."

Mark - age 6


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"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

Jessica - age 8

Murphy strikes again

My life consists of feeding the 2 commando worms who share my pigsty… working my way up the corporate ladder (the rungs of which exceeds the time I have to waste on it) and the endless battle that I fight with a particularly malicious gentleman named Murphy.
I think that I may have dated Murphy in high school or otherwise wounded the man as he seems intent on ruining me but today the bastard went too damn far.

Christmas is a Big Thing in Nestpark.
No hang on it’s a HUGE thing in Nestpark particularly in the Parker and Wally Households.
My mother has a 2m high Christmas tree that matches the wreaths above the fire place, the tree is decorated on the same date every year and it still coincides with the day my dad’s leave used to start.
The cable light sleigh and reighndeer are prance between the blue gum trees on the bottom lawn and we have icicle lights wrapped around the Lapa.
Three days before Christmas the cooking starts and my mom and I smoke pork into gammon and beef into pastrami.
The day before Christmas the salmon mouse is made and old Christmas eve we tan a piece of meat on the braai fire while mom and I drink enough sherry to deprive the tryval of its finger biscuits.
We still sit on the floor on Christmas morning like kids and that is the way it will stay.
My whole year builds up to this and I have found myself reaching for the Christmas decorations since the beginning of November and now the time is so close that I can smell the pickling mix and home made mustard.

However I think that Murphy may be in cahoots with the Grinch and is pushing his agenda on my “Ho Ho and a merry Christmas to you too” self.

Driving along this bright Monday morning after a good weekend of shopping, four hours of target practice in the back yard, one braai, three hotdogs, one helluva good party and a good Sunday afternoon sleep; I was reflecting on how good life was.
“Your finally getting there hunny” I told myself as I reflected on what I have achieved this year and what I plan to achieve before the year ends.
Then it happened. A bang.
When my eyes flew up to my rear-view to identify my target I saw a large piece of sheet metal fly out the back of my car.
It hit the windscreen of the Lumina behind me before the rear of my car glided out in the wrong direction.
I recovered it and limped my little baby to the nearest petrol station.
It had cut right through my tyre… Right through.
I changed the tyre in my good cloths and did further damage to my ego as I drove of on three 15” mags and one 13” rim.
It cost me almost R500 to replace, an amount that I had intended spend on a fibre optic Christmas tree and a role of rope lights that could cross the Atlantic.
Now, since my last Christmas tree was misplaced in our move, I have to settle for a tree with an anti consumerism opinion.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
I have decided that I am looking on the bright side of things and intend deriving my Christmas jollies from converting will from the computer addicted imagination deprived screwge he is to Santa’s biggest cheerleader”
What fun it will be.

Peace out Peeps

Blank space

I am sure that it has not escaped your attention that I have had some trouble composing anything that even remotely resembles a good blog.
I suppose the fact that it takes half the day to comment on all my regular reads contributes to my lack of creativity… not that I don’t enjoy this little ritual… oh no quite to the contrary… the problem is the fact that after reading every bodies blogs I waiver in my trust in my own writing skills.
When I get home I also spend a good amount of time writing the novel that Will and I are slowly but surely coloring in.
I say this because the entire book has been written and it’s about 5 pages long and we are now adding all the good language, complex metaphors and emotional illustrations that will turn the 5 pages into a book.

I also intend to make a concerted effort to read more as I am slowly but surely realizing that Stiffla and Will are developing a new habit that will surely be the downfall of my over inflated ego.
God only knows what prompts them but lately these two have presented me with some strange questions.
Ranging form Saran gas to the complexities of Roman History (and Will knows full well that he knows more about Rome than I do so he really is just trying to piss me off) they look at me with this complete trust and when I finally swallow down the bile that is accompanied by having to say “I don’t know” they have a damn good giggle and make another note on the “things Lee doesn’t know List”.
Either I am the epitome of obnoxious or these two are just little daemons.
I am quite sure it’s the latter but I still intend on formulating a counter attack that will see me emerge the victor and let me maintain my title of household know it all and hanus Bitch.

Speaking of Bitch.
I have just rented a leash and a Muzzle from the animal welfare society .
I am taking Stiffla cloths shopping this weekend and I have decided that I should come prepared for whatever the little bugger chucks at me.
In Stiff’s defense I am forced to point out that my obsession with finding the best possible selection at the lowest possible price has turned me into the worst shopper to ever set foot in the realm of Malldom.
However If I left my techno obsessed better half to complete the strenuous task of clothing shopping on his own he would most likely return with a pair of sox a full tummy and ten DVD’s forcing me to spend another 4 months bitching that I can see through his nice shirts.
I did offer to do the shopping on my own but I think my man doubts my taste a little bit and the fact that cloths don’t come in “skinny little bastard” size also doesn’t help the situation.
I think that we have reached a compromise.
I am to bargain hunt at my favorite stores after work today and make my selection (a trip I intent forcing Will to attend)
And tomorrow I will Drag stiff Kicking and screaming into the change rooms to fit the cloths and then pay.

I am also hoping that the financial director decides to be a darling and pays me today
It is coming terribly close to Christmas which is the biggest day of the year and I will not be the only person across the row of three houses that make up our family to be without a Christmas tree and too much tinsel.

By the way it is not our tradition so this is why I may be getting the days wrong… But to all my American readers… I hope you hade a clucking good thanks giving

Peace out peeps

OMG I am shameless

I think the thing that I love most about blogging is that there are no rules and thus no damn shame.
I just when along and nominated myself for a bloggers choice award and I voted for myself and guess what I don’t feel bad about it at all
In fact I feel rather good about it.

Another thing that I feel rather good about is the fact that while I was spending some time blog whoring I found out that Angel likes planning weddings and I also found a rather nice dress to add to my “that’s a nice idée” list in my wedding file.
I feel good about this because I am getting married at the end of next year and I am dreading the prospect of planning the damn thing.
Now I can lean on Angel for ideas.

I am also having a hard time with my fingers today… they don’t work.
I have just spelt my name wrong three times before I got the letters to go in the right order.
Hopefully this will stop soon because I have a book to edit.

Okay I’m giving you homework hunnies.
You have to do two things
1) Go make a new Blog friend
2) Go nominate your own or somebody else’s blog when you go and vote for mine and I will in turn vote for yours

Oh and while I am here I am reminding myself that I should write something on Girl on Girl snogging soon

Survivor theory

Last night “Survivor Cook Island” drew to a conclusion on South-African television and Yule who had the unwavering support of our household from the very beginning walked away with a cheque for a million dollars.

The episode of survivor was a direct contrast to the home coming of the 50 American soldiers that was shown on the Oprah show only hours before that.

And while I hate to admit it, the fact is that a game show and a gossipy talk show illustrated ,almost exactly, the difference between third world and first world countries.

I think that the populace of third world countries, due to extreme poverty and the lack of strong leadership, are a very self preserving people. Each is playing for himself and the prospect of personal gain overrides the need for a structured society.
I will illustrate my point with a simple example.
This morning while I was stuck in the traffic I noticed that the woman behind me was sucking on an Ashman pump every two or three minutes. I felt very sorry for her as the line of cars in front of us stretch along for a good three km.
However while I was sitting there cringing at the bad selection on radio music a mini bus taxi raced by me in the emergency lane right to the front of the line of stationary vehicles.
Obviously the people in the front of the line were reluctant to let this obnoxious line jumper in so the taxi driver thought it would be terribly smart to drive over the curb to the other side of the intersection and push in front of somebody there.
He had little regard for the other people who were following the rules and did not consider that every one of us are as desperate to get to work as he is, No his only concern was for his own gain.

I cal this the survivor society.
And I honestly think that this should be considered when governing our people.
I think that the causes for this behavior should be addressed before all ells.


Then on the other side of the spectrum there is the United States, a country that for the most part has been able to depict itself as the picture of patriotism.
It is no secret that 50% of the population don’t agree with Bushes money hungry war mongering interference in Iraq but that hasn’t stopped thousands of young soldiers from laying their life down on the line for their country.
I am under no illusion that it is all sunshine and roses on those far of shores and I realize that every barrel has its bad apples but for the most part the U.S. has risen above poverty and most of the challenges that face third world countries and the population understands that sacrifices have to be made to maintain their current standards of living.

This by the way is only the first installment of the survivor theory as I plan to solve the worlds problems in the next.

By the way, I spent three hours editing Wills first installment of his, as yet nameless, book so I would appreciate it if you go around and comment as both of us are welcoming construcktive criticism on it.
So go around to Wills blog and have a look at it

Driving in Africa and Hallo in Turkish

The day I got my drivers licensed was the day that I finally won my freedom.
I say finally because I only became a legal driver at 21 years of age.
Before that I relied on my mothers reluctant generosity and my powers of persuasion to get me where I was going, a fact that drove my independent ego around the twist.

The fact that the first singes of civilization were a good 20km (12.5miles) drive from our home did not make the bruise on my social life any easier to bare and I was convinced that having my drivers license would change my life.
For once my materialistic outlook proved to be right.

In a country where using public transport is as safe as bleeding in a shark tank, having your own car and being allowed to drive it can change your entire existence
However passing your drivers License test is probably the most difficult thing the that young people in South-Africa must do.
I personally thought that getting my High school diploma was a walk in the park in comparison.
I only got my drivers Licensed on the fourth try and it was the source of much depression and tears every time that I failed.
I think that it was the most difficult time in Stiffla and My relationship and Stiffla must have felt like he was living with leonine porcupine with a cactus enema.

This weekend I spent some time with a very dear friend of mine as they practiced for their own driver’s test that will take place tomorrow.
They practiced reverse parking and all the silly observations that turn this simple task into a near impossible feat.
Then there is the parallel parking that is not without its own set of observations
Side mirror, rear view mirror, check your blind spot, put your indicator on , put your car in gear, control your clutch, release hand brake, check blind spot while pulling away and so on and so on.
The simple act of stopping at a robot becomes a half hour look-here-look-there complication that you are lucky to complete before the traffic light turns red again.
And all the while the worst out of an already sour picking of public services scrutinizes your driving skill.
The fact that once you have passed this test, you will never drive like this again is irrelevant and the fact that you are being tested against a false standard escapes the traffic department.
So I find it rather aggravating that my friend is being put under such stress for the sake of such a load of unnecessary crap.
It aggravates me even further that I know what my friend feels like and I cannot help make it better.
Damn I wish I had a real point to make.

By the way thanks so much to CEO for the Girl Blogger award. God I love awards

And I have learnt to say hallo in Turkish from my new friend Erk who came by my blog.
Everybody say “Marhaba”

under the catagory "subjects not discussed"

A little while ago I resolved that I was going to better myself by either, stopping using bad language like I am some linguistically challenged shellfish or by curbing my anger.
Today I am wishing that I had rather decided to stop swearing….
So in an attempt to bring myself back from “the realm of the fire eater” I am posting my second blog for the day.
This is something that I don’t often do as half of the pleasure I get from blogging is derived from reading your comments…usually I give the comments a day or so to build up before I completely indulge myself in the stimulating and sometimes kookie opinions of my fellow bloggers.
However today is different and I am dedicating this blog to things that I have wanted to say ask or scream for a while yet that wont completely fill a whole post

Will is back
First of I would like to announce that after a short absence Will is back…Most of you by now have gathered that there has been a bit of politics and it is in the interest of calming the see’s of disaster that the blog has undergone a bit of a makeover and I personally feel that it has become a stronger representation of the metal head/ sport freak/ stroke pain in the but, that gives me daily reports of the consistency of his bowl movements at dinner time.
In addition to writing about his random brain farts Will, will also ad installments of the fantasy novel that he is writing at the moment.



The blog most likely to inspire a pair of pajamas award

”Maybe it's just the photograph on Nosjunkie's blog, but I see her pajamas as being more dramatic. Perhaps black vinyl, perhaps leather. Basically, I imagine her pajamas as a cross between a Cenobite from Hellraiser and Hugh Hefner”
This is what good old Crankster said about me when he did his bit to stop me from knawing though my own pulse today.
And in the spirit of spreading the love I am nomination the following people for this award

Sweet ass rsa:
In my completely uneducated opinion I would say that sweet as cant decide between silky PJ’S and flannel ones with cow spots on them so I shudder to thing what Sweet ass inspired PJ may look like.
Probably hot pants with writing on the but that says “ shut up your looking aren’t you”

Will:
Because he’s gone through some hectic times lately. His PJ would probably be Pink and say “ Man of the house” you know those kind of PJ that your significant other gives you and you just wear to make her happy.

CEO:
Okay no PJ’s here just a pair of underpants with a pic of …well you know what… on the front looking les than ecstatic and a heading saying “board member” hahahaha
You see what I did there

Etain:
because this lady having lost her granny lately needs some comfort.


JR: I hate to say whet everybody is thinking but JR inspired PJ’S are subtle with black and white horizontal stripes and a cereal number .

On another note.
You guys might have noticed that I am putting al sorts of toys up on my side bar and my latest is the thingie that shows the nationality of all the people who have come by your blog.
Yesterday somebody from New deli was here.
I would love it if all these people left a comment.

I would also like to know why Rabbits blog is Pink?
Rabbit why is your blog Pink?

HOW DANGEROUS IS THE NET

I am not a happy bunny today
In fact that’s an understatement
I am spitting mad and while I it is not my place to divulge the full details about what has me seeing red I intend to make as close a reference to it as is possible while still remaining completely trivial.

Lately the peaceful utopia of plot life has been shattered for no good reason.

It all started with a picture being posted on one of my regular reads, it wasn’t crude or badly intended… in fact quite the opposite… but the result has been mass hysteria.

So today I am asking the opinion of my fellow blogger, Myspacers and facebookers.
HOW DANGEROUS IS THE INTERNET?!?

My blog has been running for more than a year and most of my blog buddies know my real name and I have pictures of myself posted.
I have not in all my time blogging had a single creep approach me or harass me.
However it is the opinion of some that displaying your picture on the internet makes you a target for freaks and perverts. And it has been the cause of more than its fair share of fight mongering in my world the last few days.


Having said this I need to highlight the fact that since I have had MXIT on my phone I have had no les than 5 people ask me to take my cloths of and talk dirty to them.
I was “up skirted” in our local shopping mall last year and I do remember a particular incident at school where a guy thought it was okay to grab a big hand full of my boobs.

I am of the opinion that stepping out of your front door in the morning is more dangerous than blogging or having your face plastered all over facebook and myspace.

Granted If I were a mother I wouldn’t want my 10 or 16 year old on the internet but at 18 I don’t think it matters anymore because you can’t even go to a club or pub without somebody putting your face on the net.

People Please tell me If I am wrong.
I more than welcome everybody’s honest opinions

I don’t think that the net is more dangerous than the real world. If I wanted to cut and past your face onto a naked body I could quite easily take a picture of you in a mall or on the street and do that.
I don’t think that having a picture on the net makes you any more attractive to pervs than wearing a bikini on the beach.
Yes I am against all sorts of child porn or exploitation of children but for all that is holly be reasonable about it all.

S.O.S 4 LOVE

I realize that this is very uncharacteristic of me but today I would like to share a love story with you.
I feel that I need to tell this story for various reasons one being that love to watch the pages of this romance turn as I am fast leaving that phase of my life behind where whimsical young love may fall into my lap at any turn.

This is the story of Slipknot and Piglet and it started when they met at my house on New Years Eve.
Piglet is my very best friend, a fact that I seldom mention but is no less true for it. She’s a small happy pink little thing who is so cute you may feel tempted to fold her up and carry her around in your handbag.
Having not yet reached the age of eighteen and having been schooled in single sex schools her whole life Piglet was calm and reserved among the testosterone charged frivolity of the New Year celebration.
Slip knot on the other hand had spotted her in the crowd almost instantly and immediately started pestering me about her.

In early February they finally had a chance to chat and it was rather sweet watching their jittery little conversations and shy gestures.
But Slip Knot had made up his mind and when valentines came around the bay made his move…
Piglet was greeted with heart shaped balloons roses and chocolates strewn across her bed when she got home and it truly was enough to make your heart melt.

I am not sure when it became official but today Slipknot and Piglet are inseparable.

I am telling you this because I am the most hanus sister a girl could ask fore my real sister “Tigger” and I are not on speaking terms as I have hate her boyfriend and have one more than one occasions threatened to do unthinkable things to him.
I once chase a bunch of guys out of our house at three in the morning with a cricket bat and a serious intent to use it.

However I have known Piglet since her teeth were the most eye catching thing about her and she is as close to me as my real sister should be. I love her to death and would do everything humanly possible to make sure no harm befalls her (I am not even exaggerating) and I honestly feel that Slipknot would do the same

He respects her and protects her with his every breath.
He respects the fact that she is writing exams and needs to spend time with her books
He gives her time with her friends and her family and at the same time respects her family just as much.
And most of all her would rather die than hurt her emotionally, physically or in any other way.

Unfortunately this fairy tale is under immense strain right now through no fault of Piglet’s or Slipknot’s and because I am a great believer in the power of thought I would like all of you who can spare the moment to just send them thoughts of strength and support.
Make it your good deed for the day and save some of the little love that is left in the world

SEX! Oh no!!!!

I find it strange that in a house of open minded liberal thinkers sex was such a high hurdle to jump.
Its sad but it is true… by the time my mother finally scraped together the stomach to talk to me about sex I was 21 years old and no longer in need of her jittery little chat.
I remember her trying once when I was 14 but at 14 the information obtained from your juvenile friends regarding the subject is far more interesting and ,in your mind, far more accurate than the horror stories that your fossilized old mother could come up with.

At the end of the day when I lost my virginity it had nothing to do with an emotional bond with my chosen partner but rather a matter of not being able to contain the curiosity that by now occupied 90% of my conscious thoughts and 100% of my subconscious thoughts.
The fact that he was a virgin and making himself shamelessly available provided an opportunity that could not be passed up.
Needles to say I was left a little disappointed and a little ashamed.
You see in those formative years I was desperately trying to fit into the box and unfortunately that box left no room for such fornication so I turned my little encounter into a full blown 11month relationship.

Today I cant help thinking that If I had grown up in household where sex was discussed as if it were common place and not as if it were some form flesh eating virus I would have been able to escape the years of guilt that sex triggered.
I may also have been able to contain my curiosity for a little while longer.

I don’t think that sex is evil or that it is the direct path to eternal damnation and I am bale to realize that it is a natural urge that needs to be satisfied.
I understand that teenagers are little les than fleshy balls of hormonal dysfunctions (having recently been one of those fleshy balls myself) and that all of them are thinking of having sex.
And I honestly believe that if you start talking to your children about sex when their teens it is way too late.
I think that sex should not be seen as a taboo subject for discussion for children at all I believe that you should talk to them about it from a young age and try and maintain these lines of communication throughout high school and onwards.
While this may be uncomfortable I think the pro’s outweigh the cons…
For toddles a knowledge of what sex is will protect that child from falling victim to sexual predators.
For teens knowing what sex is and what to expect will lower the risk of teen pregnancies will teach a child that they can speak to their finally openly if they are being pressured and it will also mean a higher awareness of STD’S.
As an adult I think that getting rid of the inhibitions surrounded by sex can only benefit your sex life.

So why am I bringing this up?
Well I am bringing this up because I felt that this is definitely one of my more useful rushes of shit to the brain and I would like to document it now while I am young enough to understand my theory so that one day my children my benefit from it.

What do you guys think…am I going to damage my children for life by implementing my latest brain fart

Random Bullshit for a Tuesday

My Monday blog absence can be attributed to the fact that I had to drive to Rustenburg to close a business deal.
While I love driving in general I do object to being subjected to my own company for these long stretches of time.
I am completely unable to maintain my own sanity if I have nobody near me to drive nuts.
It is for this reason that I find myself rather distressed at the state of radio in South-Africa.
I often depend on radio stations such as 5fm, Highveld and recently Jacaranda to keep me company on the long roads and the unavoidable traffic jams and while Highveld’s Rude Awakening and 5fm’s Morning show with Gareth Cliff and Fresh Drive with DJ Fresh are adequate as far as conversation and topic go I find myself cringing at the choice of music that they play.
While I do realize that these stations have to cater for a diverse group of people and cant please 100% of people 100% of the time would it kill them to replace Britney Spears with a bit of greenday or System.
I am not even going to talk about the lunch time shows on S.A. radio because such boredom could reduce me to tears.
I am petitioning for an all rock station to be launched in a n effort to maintain minimum sanity

On another note.
It seems that the geeks are in season and my weekend fell victim to a stampede of these sunlight deprived creatures and I was subjected to a LAN party.
Counter strike and Heineken was the going poison and even I joined in fore a round or two (but only because they let me shoot at Stiffla).
Admittedly…I am currently coming down from a mild addiction to Oblivion, but apart from that I am not completely taken in by the pixel driven world of gaming whether it be by PC or PS.
Stiffla and Will however, are a mutated form of geek, a point which at the best of times drives me up the wall because it deprives me of the human interaction I desperately crave when I get home.
Unfortunately, until the novelty of “hellgate London” has worn off I am stuck talking to my cats and a very depressed looking carrot.
Have you guys ever noticed how cyber chicks are always uber hot?

Oh by the way, look what wondered into the garden to come trim the lawn yesterday evening

Moral or Humane

Would you rather be moral or humane?

Face book calls it a cause and a little while ago woman around the world were queuing up to join the “if you cant take care of it keep your legs closed” cause. The page showed horrific pictures of the results of abortions, the graphics were disturbing and it had those woman spitting mad.
One poor woman who had obviously opted for an abortion was ripped apart in the comments section and Chaz even blogged about it.
Chaz and I also discussed this at length and at the end of the day it was evident that I had not yet formulated an opinion about the subject that I could completely stand by.

However after putting a great deal of thought into it I have come up with something and against all expectations I am going to say that I support the legalization of abortion.

I realized that so many people were taking the moral high ground by saying that abortion is murder and saying that woman who can’t afford the financial responsibility of taking care of the child should stop having sex.

I counter the latter statement with pure logic…
Build a bridge and get over it…
They will not stop having sex and saying that they should is pissing in to the wind.

Unwanted pregnancies are here to stay especially in under developed countries and among the poor.

Before I start my explanation I want you all to realize that I am not condoning any of this but rather that I realize that the problem of unwanted children is one that will not be solved for years to come and in the mean time it has become a situation of picking the lesser of two evils

A little while ago a new born was found wrapped in plastic bag and buried alive. It was a miracle in itself that the child survived.
Another was thrown down a pit toilet and hundreds are discarded on rubbish dumps in dustbins and open pieces of felt.
The child in the picture above was left in the felt at the mercy of hungry predators.

Mothers who don’t want their children will get rid of them one way or another whether they throttle them with their own umbilical cord before flushing them down the toilet or whether they abort the fetus.

This is the fact and this is where we have to choose, are we going to be moral and say that this is murder and perhaps sentence that child to a worse fate

Or are we going to be humane and spare that child from drowning or being buried alive by giving the mother the option of abortion.

Look at it this way a fetus that is not fully developed and fully aware will suffer a whole lot less at the hands of abortion than a new born fully developed baby would when starving slowly to death

Somebody is telling me that the child in the picture is okay…so there is hope right?
However the lady who found the child in the felt says that for every one that they save there a thirteen others that die long painful deaths.

So what do you think
Humane or Moral ?

Blog scrap booking

Hi there guys
I promis to blog something usefull soon but in the mean time I want to let you guys know about this killer great site I found.
Its called Blingee and it lets you modify pics with all sorts of bling.
so go to www.blingee.com and see what you can do
This is one I made of Will and I am so proud of my work


Create cool Profile Comments

Coogles and man eaters

When I walk down the passage Will makes beeping noises and warns people of a wide load… I, in turn, have named his belt “equator” and yell “please don’t eat me” when he walks in the door.
This is “the fight of the fat” and Will started it, not because I am stereotypically obese but because it is a fail save way to piss me off… Lately however the situation has escalated and the light hearted every-now-and-then banter has become obsessive stabbing… here I take responsibility… When Will moved in with us he was in the okay shape one would expect from someone who spent years drinking…errr… I mean playing on a mediocre to kak school rugby team…However my good food, his inexhaustible appetite for it and the chair bound life of an obsessive geek has made his clothing shrink and his gut expand.
I do understand that the African sun is harsh on a man and that growing a gut would at least shade his genitals but I do fear the effects that eternal shade my have on the young man… nothing grows in the shade after all.
Anyway in the hopes of achieving a truce Will and I joined a gym.

We set of in search of a suitable price … I mean facility on Monday afternoon and our attentions were immediately drawn to the bright red and blue of one of our countries top franchises.
I parked my poor Corsa at the end of a line of shinny BMW’s and walked away very quickly.
Inside an umpa-lumpa shaped consultant collected us for a terribly brief tour of the gym.
As we walked we passed a spinning class that reminded me of a bunch of grapes. Ten red faced round coogles pedaled for dear life in their branded pink gym gear as they glared at us with apparent disapproval.
In another section we found a sinewy stick insect lifting free weights, he looked much too interested in Will so we moved on with speed.
We were introduced to treadmills with built in TV’s and reclinable bikes. I found this terribly ironic, but quickly realized that I was the only one and that rich people don’t like you laughing when their training.
We were whisked into a tiny damp little office where the Umpa-Lumpa lady pretended to make us a great deal.
This must have been the cardio facility because once the final figures and a 36 month contract was shown to me I left complaining of severe cardio vascular failure.

We decided to try one other place before giving ourselves in to prospect of eternal flab and took a short left to an independently managed gym in a mall.
This time the salesperson didn’t resemble anything out of a kiddies book and we would soon find out that the gym was running on an impromptu world wrestling federation theme.
The hairless Chewbacca paraded an intimidated me and an inadequate looking Will past some of his kin who looked like they were on a strict diet of dinosaur dung and human beings. One of them grunted at me and I almost crapped myself.
There were TVless treadmills and a hysterically happy aerobics teacher who proves the release of endorphins by physical activity.
At the back they have a room with machines that shocks the living shit out of you until your fat surrenders and buggers off.
They also offer kickboxing and I have signed Will up for belly dancing.
Chewy drew up some numbers and undercut the coogle gym by almost half… we signed the twelve month contract (Partly because I feared the consequences of saying no to this man eater) and we are now members of an elite S.A click who are addicted to physical fitness.

Next week Will and I have to go for a body analysis so that they can put percentages to our fat.
I am challenging Will… If you post your fat percentage rubbish I’ll post mine for the whole wide world to see.

In the comments say whatever you want… your going to anyway… and if anybody posts “whatever you want” you get 10 smart ass points

Peace out peeps

socking revelation

Since Mondays are such melancholy days by nature I decided to bring this up today even though the thought occurred to me a little while ago.

Some time ago, one of my regular reads went on a short trip…it was supposed to be a 24 hour thing… However when I checked in two days latter there had been no update on this blog and my neurotic little mind started doing summersaults.
There was no way for me to tell what had happened to my cyber buddy… what if he had gotten hit by an elephant and died a tragic death.

While I more than understand that these friendships that we form on the net are not clearly defined, I really would like to know if something happened to you because at the end of the day no matter how abstract these relationships are I still consider you my friends.

I am going to entrust my password to someone in my family today so that if something were to happen to me there would be someone to let you guys know.

Let me know what your opinions are about this.

On another morbid note:
Last night Will, myself and Stiffla were out on the porch gawking at the lightning.
I love thunderstorms and living on the plot we have more than our fair share of skyline to enjoy it but last night was stunning the lightning bolts showered down endlessly…

This morning however I got a glimpse of the less stunning side when my mom let me know that my step dad’s father had actually been struck by lightning… He’s alright but I googled it and it turns out the chances of getting struck by lightning is 576,000 to 1

I am sorry this is badly written and boring but I am in a hurry
Peace out peeps

Wills Blog and Satan's Birthday

Halloween came and passed in South-Africa with only one or two pubs sporting a cobweb or two.
There was no trick or treating in our neighborhood… leaving me disappointed as I had my heart set on scaring the crap out of a kid or two, I did however hear one or two of the caller on the 5fm morning show tell Gareth Cliff that in one or two secure complexes the neighborhood watch pulled together and arranged trick or treating for the kids. I suppose that if you don’t live in South-Africa it must be very hard to understand why you would need the support of the neighborhood watch to go trick or treating.
Either way it was on this same breakfast show that one of those puritan bible pushers phoned in and pronounced that she would never ever celebrate Halloween as it is Satan’s Birthday.
I immediately turned into one of those people you see in the traffic laughing at their radio.
I was dumb struck to say the least…
Tell me what you guys think before I launch into a massive explanation as to why this woman needs help

ANNOUNCEMENT
I am sending you guys off to another Blogg. First link on my link List…. Go check out Will’s blogg.
After my graphic explanation of our shopping antics Will retaliated by creating a Blogg for himself its called “the mind of a shit stirrer” and I suggest you take a strong constitution and a whole hell of a lot of parental guidance along because will is set on proving why he should not be left to roam freely among the normal people.
My suggestions that he tone down his language has fallen on deaf ears and this Blog is not for the sensitive.

I am getting to posting on every bodies bloggs so just hang on