Thursday, December 14, 2006

Last For The Year


This is going to be my last post for the year, I will have to survive without the good old internett untill early in the new jear.
but as concillation I will be spending soem time with my family and quite a bit of time playing the fool in warmbaths.
I promiss to post pictures of the merryment.
I am going to miss all of you so much as you have become such an important part of my life. please be safe and take care of yoursleves.
Have a great Christmas and an excelent new year
ALL MY LOVE
A very merry Christmas to you all

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Whats Weird



I have been tagged by Val and I am now charged with sharing my quircks with the world (I call them quircks Stiffla calls them "definate sighnes of a dead hamster and an abandon wheel"). So here it goes 6 weird things about me:

1) I giggle like a little girl: I never grew out of it and when I really open my mouth and laugh you can hear my from miles away. Stiffla and Grem say I sound like a pin ball machine.

2)I cant stand not having an opinion about stuff: You know you get those things that just dont have enough impact on your life to bother having an opinion about... wel I dont have things like that....I need to have an opinion about everything or els it will bother me untill I formulate an opinion.

3)I love salt and lemon juice, I always seem to be drowning my food in one or the other, last night infact, I so craved sour stuff that I mixed lemon and salt and ended up eating it as is!

4) I am an enless source of useless information..... you think you be traveling in the car listening to a song or watching the scenery and suddenly the serenity will be broken by "hey guys did you know" at which point everybody rolls their eyes at me.

5) I've said this before but I think it needs a space in the quirck section. I sing Chritmas carols, and I sing them all year long, while I cook in the shower while I work and I dont care who hears me.

6)I am killer afaid of needels. and when I say this I mean I go all psyco about it. I know in the small bit of my brain that is responsible for logical thought that getting a shot is not painfull, but the thought of being used as a glorified pin cushion freacks me out.

So thats it then. six of the things that make me weirder than you. but it all doesnt end here. I tag Sammy. Sammy write down six thinks thats wierd about you and then pass it on sothat we will have a perpetual chain of wierdos blogging the globe

Monday, December 11, 2006

Discover


This weekend whilst looking for a gift for Stiffla I wandered into a dark little shop that smelt of Sandal wood.
It was a warm little place with warm lighting and pretty things and books lining the wall.
At a low table on a cushion sat a blond woman, she was barefoot and smiled when I entered.
as I browsed the shelved I noticed that the woman didn't breath down my neck as other shop keepers do in this crime torn country of ours. She didnt hound me with sales pitches and was happy to let me wander as long as I pleased.
This little shop sold candles, insence, crystals, pendants and herbs, cards and all sorts of little trinkets that most of society would frown upon.
I started talking to the woman who cals herself dragonfly and after she had explained a few things to me and done my tarrot card reading I made my purchase.
This weekend whilst looking a gift for Stiffla I baught my first tarrot card deck.
The deck is a deck desighned to empower woman and teach them that they are powerfull and important. I think that it is perhaps this view of a womans place in society that drew me to wiccan culture many years ago. They ,unlike the church, dont just talk about gender equality they actully practice it.
I dont claim to be a wiccan (I believe that one must first learn to be at piece with the world and yourslef), and I dont renounce the Lord either, even though my views of my faith differ greatly from that of garden variety Christians, but I do have a few theories, that I intend to elaborate on in the coming weeks.
I also intend to enlighten people on the subject that is very misunderstood.
So here I embark on another journey of discovery enlightenment and perhaps self healing.


Friday, December 08, 2006

What goes around


This is Friday and it is my given write to blog Bullshit all day. I found this story and though everybody may enjoy this.
His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to eke out a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slowand terrifying death. The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved."I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life.""No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel."Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly."I'll make you a deal. Let me take him and give him a good education.If the lad is anything like his father, he'll grow to a man you can be proud of."And that he did. In time, Farmer Fleming's son graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.Years afterward, the nobleman's son was stricken with pneumonia. What saved him? Penicillin.The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill.His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill..

Thursday, December 07, 2006

In good times


Thursdays are notoriusly borng days, the only alure they hold is the simple fact thats its the day before friday, so after leaving work yesterday I had little hope for the evening that lay ahead, that was until DW and I took a trip to pleasant little shop that is bursting to the brim with affordable alcahol.
DW needed a beer and by now everybody knows it, so we grabbed a 6pack and just as we were retreating my beady little eyes fell upon an item that caused my wallet to do the highland flip.
At the end of the day we left heavily laden with 6 pack Castel and a 2000 vintage portues red wine.
I knew that DW would not partake in the wine and I knew only one other person who had the culture to enjoy this with me. We enlisted the Gremlin and soon we were in a state of serius merriment. Good Itallion pasta great Portuegeus wine and always faithfull South-african beer.
We lite a fire for no reason what so ever and since dinner had come and gone we ended up putting chees and tomatoe sandwitches on the fire just for good measure.
These are my friends.
We understand one another and yet still like one another.
These are my firends and I love them.
When I finally retired to bed I reflected on how blessed I am. My life is filled only with the good people that I want in my life I have friends in so many walks of life and I have finally been able to rid myself of the bad apples of humanity that seem to cling to me like shit to a woolen blanket.
I dont believe that I would be able to exsist in solitude People need people and I am glad I have all of you
Big love to Stiflla and Grem

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Wrap me up for Christmas


I used to love the night befor Christmas, Mom would be drowning finger biscuts in sherry for the triffel, dad would be tanning some meat on a good black wattel fire, and my blister and I would be singing carols and pestering either one or both of our paerents.
Now I know this sounds like another in a row of nonsensical blogs, but in truth this is a subject close to my heart.
I love Christmas, I go all starry eyed and fuzzy, its the only time in the year when I feel there may be a glimmer of hope for mankind.
And while fate has placed some bitter memories uder my tree I remain a loyal crusader for the spirit of Christmas.
I know that growing up tends to take away some of the magic but there are just some traditions and principals that that I will always be true to.
1) Always decorate a tree. In our household the decorations on our Christmas tree are as old as my sister and I. some may have lost the sparkle and glitter but they are tinny little footprints in my families Christmas story.
2) I Put thought into the gifts I give. Christmas has become verry comercial and you should try to champion that by making the gifts you give a reflection of your feelings for the person your giving it to. one of the greatest aspects of a gift is the fact that someone remembered you
3) I always wrap gifts in papper. dragging a present from a bag or a box will never be as fun as it is to unwrap your gifts. we are all children at heart.
4) I always take the time to write in the cards. Each gift has a card and each card has a message. and each card goes with love.
5) Sing carols. why not. The grem and DW will tell you that I sing Christmas carols all year round when I cook.
6) Where a silly hat
7) Say "Merry Christams"
8) Eat, drink and be merry
9) Spend Christmas with those you love. I have never missed a Christmas with my family. I spent every Christmas of my life with my dad and now that hes gone I spare a thought for every Christams we had together. Forget the trials of the year gone by and make amends.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

The painted people

I havent posted anything for a while, my absence has not been because I have nothing to say its because I have too much.
My blog is my little bitching outlet, where I reserve the right to rant and rave about politics and society to my hearts content, but lately I have found that my blog has become a bit heavy.
for this reason I have decided that today I will write about something that doesnt matter.
TATTOO's
Do you have any?
Did it hurt?
Do you want one?
Or are you of the believe that its a discusting missuse of your body.
I want one, but I'm chicken shit!
Not so much of the pain involved in getting it done but of how permanent it is. I dont want to wake up one day and realise I dont like having "die dissel boom van potchefstroom" scribbled down my arm. Even worse... I dont want to wake up in 30 years and my "disselboom" tattoo has disintergrated to say juts "oom".
If I had the courage I so despiratly lack the above would be what I would go for.
I'd give myslef wings in a world where society grounds me so.
I have also heard of a new proceedure that assures the tattoo lasts only 5 years.
Perhars I'd do that?
Either way...Let me know what you guys think!

Thursday, November 30, 2006

I'm For Children





She had been raped and then beaten to death, she was only a child of six and her body was found mutilated and face down in the muddy mes of her own blood.
Another raped sodomised beaten and then set alight to burn to death.
Their jeans around their ankles, mutilated little bodies in the sand.
These are the children of our kin.
I heard this story last night on the news... Entitled the forest of evil, it tells of a bushy piece of land in the western cape that gives cover to the twisted demented scum of society to commit these atrocities against our children.
The fact that it has taken this long for the government to finally "CONSIDER" clearing this state owned piece of land was, for me, overshadowed by the fact that there are actually people capable of doing these things.
How does a father harden himself so much that he is capable of raping his own 8week old daughter.

Can you for a moment imagine being the mother who has to bear witness as they put the little broken burnt body of your baby onto that stretcher. How do you live knowing that your little girls last moments alive were black with confusion and excruciating pain. How do you accept that the person who had a mind twisted enough to grab at her long blond pig tails and intrude so sickly on the purity of her little body, is walking free.
I know we don't like to imagine these things because their unpleasant, I know its depressing and upsetting, but its nothing compared to the pain that mother carries around with her.....So imagine it!
And then tell me why these rapist, sodomist, child abusers , murderer and text book sickos don't deserve the death sentence.
For the self righteous out there who are gonna quote the bible or tell me that it is not up to man to judge:
I could tell you that the bible also says "spare the rod and spoil the child"and another few holly little extracts that counter your argument, but I prefer the more real world approach.
It has been psychologically proven that if you confine a murderous mind in five years you will have a serial killer on your hands.
Jailing them will not help us it only perpetuates and fuels the problem.
And the saddest thing about it is that the division of the police force that deals with violence against children is most likely going to be closed because the government doesn't have enough money to keep it open. and yet they spent millions on changing the name of the Johannesburg international airport.

I am for children !
And something MUST be done

Thursday, November 23, 2006

My Own Way To Heavan

I am drunk on time right now; my mind has been let loose to ponder on the profound and profane underbelly of my tangled mind. I suppose it is this intoxicated mixture of boredom and rebellion that has driven me to place my head on the chopping block of our Conservative little world.
I know full well that I am willingly drowning myself in a narrow minded puddle of "how dare you's" and "shame on you's" and "be damned with you".
and while I through myself over the edge of judgement I fear not the crucifixion.
I don't go to church.
I don't believe in church as an institution.
as the words roll of these keys I can see the conservative hackles rising, I feel the mouse cursors close the window. But for those of you left I proceed to explain my motives for putting distance between me and the great halls of Christianity.
I cut my religious teeth on the cold hard benches of a very Afrikaans church. My father never joined my mother my little sisters and I as we filed into the silent corridors of indoctrination Sunday after Sunday and never answered me when I questioned him on the point. It didn't take me long to find these answers and my opinionated nature grew faster than my ability to wield tact.
I realised that those highly thought of figures on the pulpit were scaring me into believe, Satan and eternal damnation scared me onto the "right path".
A little while latter I tried the water again. I found a church that made sense.
I was free to call myself an evolutionist without being labeled an anti Christ. The writings of the bible no longer contradicted itself because effort was made to see past the literal.
But I was offended by the churches attitude towards woman, when I stood up and said that I am not mearly a vessel for breeding children and my genitals makes me no less worthy of doing the lords will I was met with uncomfortable stares and candid whispers.
I left there for fear of exorcism and I will never go back.
Most recently I have found that my faith in God all mighty is at an all time high, I no longer question the lords will because I am not being lectured on it by a mortal.
I believe that he heals and that he loves because I dont have 2000 (no joke there are more than 2000 different christian churches in the world) different people pulling me in different directions.
I am the Lords Church and confusion is satans greatest tool of destruction.
I dont need to hear ghost stories to scare me into believing and I know that God accepts all people because without the doctrines of the Church I am free to accept all people

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The games of our lives



The girl next to me hasn't stopped talking since 8am this morning and though I have learnt how to make the right noises of agrees, the ongoing drone of her voice still makes me want to climb the Walls... the one right ahead of me is screaming at her mother on the other side of a phone call...I don't blame my office manager who escaped to an empty office... he now only communicates with us via e-mails and messenger pigeon... The rest of the office is preoccupied with figuring out what the one click said about the other and it's a never ending soap opera as a bunch of people pretend to be one another best friends whiles in truth they boarder homicidal thoughts towards one another...in another of my social circles, a primal war rages between the lady at court and the hopeless lover....Naturally the whole kingdom has made it their business and revel in the mud slinging...

I suppose its part of the human condition, these tactical webs of deceit we wrap one another in... Its a form of survival....Its not because we dislike confrontation, oh no we thrive on it (if we didn't a certain blog wouldn't be running on 23 comments) its because we are race of hunters and gatherers.... We are a product of a great evolutionary plan.... Its always been a game of eat or get eaten, the rules have just been changed by social doctrines and modern laws... In this day and age the Lion does sleep with the Lamb but only because the lion is saving the lamb for the dry years and the lamb is sucking on the power teet of his mighty friend... I don't tell the girl next to me that I have fantasized of stapling her bottom lip to the desk because it's bad for office dynamics... The girls on the smoke break outside hate one another but dare not reveal because they need one another to create a feeling of comradery from which they can share their cutting gossip...My sister hasn't gotten rid of the poor sods that pine over her yet, not because she values their friendship (because if she did she would have cleared their rose coloured glasses ages ago) but because she knows that the looser she has leashed now wont make the cut and she may need a little black book full of available and willing... I tolerate a whole bunch of people because I have weighed up the pros and cons of keeping them around and the pros outweigh the cons... I am under no illusion that the afore mentioned people keep me around for my sparkling personality, but I do have a point...

We do this we play these games because we are socially programmed to survive (social survival is also survival)... So you may agree or disagree with me on this point but at the end it may prove irrelevant because when faced with the question you answer my be a calculated piece of socially engineering.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Our illusions

I recently had the displeasure of having a discussion with a guy who was so convinced of his own superiority that he was convinced that the people he was feeding his load of unadulterated bullshit to must be in a vegetative state.
This unfortunate Tool was so caught up in the webs of his ego that he completely forgot to take into account the fact that others may actually have the ability to form their own opinion.
I realise that we tend to create our own little illusions that keep us safe from the scary world.
They are almost the same as a comfort zone.
But the problem is that the walls that we build out of our illusions aren't transparent.
The guy whom I am using to illustrate this point doesn't have a job and lives with his parents who take care of him, but he was so convinced that he was "the man" that he was confident enough to take a seat among a group of serious car addicts and proceed to boast about a 1000hp corvette (this can swallow) he was going well up until he explained that the Vett was "electronically tuned". At this we ripped him apart.
This guys illusion is that he is so intelligent and so well respected in society that we wouldn't dare question his word.
I used to be eluded by the believe that everything would be okay if you just believe it. Now however I believe that everything will be alright if you believe enough in yourself to make it happen.
I have also seen whole groups within society build these illusions. People believe that if you are not one of us, if you don't believe what we believe or if you don't look like us, your doomed.
Their illusions are so strong they refuse to make an educated assessment about those who don't conform to the pre conceived norms of their culture, religion, or colour. They rather judge and condemn.
Do you have illusions, think about it.
Personal illusions stop you from learning better and at the end of the day you are bound to make a fool of yourself.
Illusions in society are the root of prejudice and often end in war.
I ask today that each and every one of us asses our lives and find our illusions then work towards breaking down the walls

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Its not all black

I learnt a lot yesterday, I also found that all my preconceived ideas about Goths were wrong.
I have a new perspective now, as more myths are dispelled.
I like many, believed that Goth was a form of religion, I also feared these people because of the way they looked.
Now however I have found That Goths are no more then a group of people who have been rejected by society because they don't fear the taboo, because they want to talk about and debate the things that are socially unacceptable.
they are basically a group of rebels and this I can relate to.
As far as the religion bit goes; I found a web site dedicated to christian Goths. Religion has nothing to do with the Gothic life style and your religious persuasions is, ultimately, your business.
And while I have found much literature that defines the culture as a life style based on morbidity I am convinced that it cant be narrowed down to just that.
We all have a bit of an obsession with the dark under belly of the world, The popularity of movies such a underworld and Queen of the damned proof this.
On the flip side however I also believe that these movies are commercialising a movement of Fad Goths who know nothing more about Goth culture than what society has told them (which a very twisted outlook).
As far as the clothing is concerned; I am sure every chick in creation wishes she was brave enough to appear in public in full on under world leathers.
So perhaps there's a little Goth in all of us

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Journey Begins


This morning I was going though the pics that I speradically download for my blog and I realised that most of them have a dark and morbid ambiance, I also realised that most of them have been downloaded from Goth web sites.
I admit now what I used to only admit to myself "I believe that sometimes the extreme lows of human emotion is where we find that we are truly alive"
there is an unpretentious beauty about goth art that is not socially accepted because it is so true.
However anybody who knows me will tell you that I very unsympathetic towards these black robed members of society. I place a lot of emphasis on being happy and unmoved by the knocks life hands you. My motto is simply "get over it" and I am proud of being able to maintain my merry outlook on life.
Perhaps the reason for my negative attitude towards Goths is because they embody what I most fear "accepting the pain and letting it be part of you.
I fear that the pain of loss and disappointment that has been very present my short life may be more than I have strength to handle.
Goths however believe that it is better to embrace the pain the fear and the darkness we all posses so that it becomes a part of you.
I am an open minded person and recently commented on the Grems blog that it has become trendy to be depressed and I stand by my point but I intend to find out more about this subculture of depression and voice the other side of the story
Thus begins my journey of discovery into the Goth world

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Our weekend



Friday night
On Sammy's good advice I flat ironed my (thanx Sam) my sister also took the soap box and I did my makeup with running commentary from my sister. However Murphy would not let me off the hook that easy and when I put the iron to DW brand new black shirt (bought specially for the occasion) it burnt a hole as big as "Kimberly se holl" in it. It now looks like the base of my iron has been rubberised.
DW ended up wearing another shirt with little grace and we then tracked into the deep dark reaches to find the function.

We arrived and I commented on the decoration.
"That's nice" I said. To which DW answered "Yes; can we go home now"
The speeches were long but the dinner made up for it and when DW dished half a ton of beef roil I was sure the man had over estimated my willingness to take food home in my handbag
We danced a little longer and then left before one of my colleagues was able to commission us to help him cripple the bar


Saturday (Wesbank)
Each year about this time the VW club hosts a Jamboree day for charity and DW has a different car there each year.
Last year he took his brand new little Ford Fiesta ST to proof why Ford doesn't have a contender in the F1 grid.
After 48 laps around the track the little ST registered its protest by spitting its clutch out.
This year however the VW club saw DW coming and made sure that only 4 laps at a time were allowed.
So off we went to find out just what the OPC is made of.
She is a beauty around the circuit and listening to the turbo wind up on the straights and the wheels grip the corners in the shikains was enough to make my heart go pitter patter.
The car and DW did wel and by the time we left the OPC was a worthy contender for the Glof 5 GTI's and was running about third over all at 132sec
I will give you updates on the score board latter

Saturday Night
Come for a drink at my place Juan said to us on Saturday, However when we agreed we had now idee that we would end up going to bed at two in the morning.
We played pool and kings and 5s and ching chong cha and all of this to the hydraulic support of KWV brandy.
We finally retired after DW got the last king in both games and we finished the wobbly bottle of home made brandy in a game of fives
Sunday
Well after the shenanigans of the night before Sunday was dedicated to rehab and re-cooperation. If you look hard enough at people in the pics you can actually see the hangover pounding away at them.
We had a braai and again I ended Up doing the Braaing and then I burnt the pudding.
all in all it was a good afternoon and by the time the rain started we were watching a doci film on a bunch of idiots who surfed the Amazon river
I hope all of you had as much fun as we did.
And Thanks again to Sam

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Dressed to Kill


If you ask anybody they will tel you that I am a bit of a tom boy (damn I hate to discribe myslef that way)..... Lets put it this way, I am not that hung up on the hair and makeup thing as other girls are..... I suppose thats because nobody ever took the time to teach me these finner details of life....... Dont get me wrong, I like looking good I just dont have the required skills to look my best.
For example; I was 20 years old when I bought my first hair drayer thing, The grem sat behind me frouning as I tried to work the damn thing, and then finally threw his hand in the air and said "your doing it wrong let me help you"...... As far as make up is concerned I try to avoid it...... I own a eye liner that I use sparingly because I tend to rub my eyes and plaster it all over my face. I almost never wear lipstick because it tasts like wax, I have a good skin so I dont see the point of foundation and I've never had a manicure in my life.
This is not all that bad for everyday life but Tomorrow I have to attend a formal year end function with a bunch of attornies and I dont know what to do..
First off the hair is a disaster because I threw my curling brush at DW and broke it (not a fight but one of our ritual wrestling matches.... that still doesnt sound right) and I have a very thick bush of black hair (that was purpel at some stage due to a colouring accedent) and my hair dryer thingy over heats every two minutes....... I have to do my own make up and put myself into a dress and do all this in half an hour.
Needless to say I need Help.....................

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Skies of Fire and wet braai wood


Okay I realise that its Wednesday already and I'm a bit late of the mark but hey I've been busy, and last night when I couldnt sleep because there was a McLaren SLR haunting me I remembered that we took some nice pics this weekend.
These sun set shots were taken on Friday night whilst we were batteling to breath life into our hopeless braai fire the sky set alight. DW took the one on the left from our front door and I took the pink one from our back door. Heavan offered up her full palet for us that night and I though you'd like to share in this. Wel a bit latter we got the fire going after we had to go to Kempton for wood.
We got into the swing of things and had a few drinks. I tried my hardesy, but despite my greatest efforts to keep my face off any pics, The Grem caught me and and got me and my G-string plashed straight into our photo album. DW was behind the camara so he is not completely blameless. You can see the partners in crime here donning there usual gracefull salute. So after that we set about the very serius job of tanning a few T-bones, which I had to do because neither of these big bad boys can braai to save their lives, we had a few more drinks and then a few more . Now since I had been the victom of slavery all day long I hit the sac at ten and and when the cat's away the mice will play, I next opened my eyes to a chorus of coughing and weezy chests. This I found was the after marth of a game. It was the most rediculus game I had ever heard of and all I could do was voice my concern as my friends, that now included Juan, inhaled seven ton's of cherry tabaco smoke. I dont care to elaborate..... the last pic in this montage shows the following morning (grem spent the rest of saturday surgically attached to his phone)





















Too much love will Kill you




I've always been a great Queen fan.

For most people the thought of queen makes you think of the great Freddi but for me it conjures up thoughts of one of the greatest guitarists I have ever seen.

This song was a Queen original But when Brian May performed it at a Pavarotti and friends concert it really ment something.
Perhaps it touches you too.
Im just the pieces of the man I used to be
Too many bitter tears are raining down on me
I'm far away from home
And I've been facing this aloneFor much too long
I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mindI've been looking back to findWhere I went wrong
Too much love will kill you
If you can't make up your mind
Torn between the loverAnd the love you leave behind
You're headed for disaster'cos you never read the signs
Too much love will kill you
Every time
I'm just the shadow of the man I used to be
And it seems like there's no way out of this for me
I used to bring you sunshine
Now all I ever do is bring you down
How would it be if you were standing in my shoes
Can't you see that it's impossible to choose
No there's no making sense of it
Every way I go I'm bound to lose
Too much love will kill you
Just as sure as none at all
It'll drain the power that's in you
Make you plead and scream and crawl
And the pain will make you crazy
You're the victim of your crime
Too much love will kill you
Every time
Too much love will kill you
It'll make your life a lie
Yes, too much love will kill you
And you won't understand why
You'd give your life, you'd sell your soul
But here it comes again
Too much love will kill youIn the end...In the end.

Rosses Grow in Ashes


In the 1940 war had torn the peoples of the world apart.

Hitler was raging a cruel assault on man kind and it seemed that darkness and dispare would be The only future left open for so many.

Yet roses grow from ashes and it was during this time of hardship and fanine that a father truly appreciated his gifts for the first time.


He had scowled his daughter the day before Christmas for she had been wasteful with the last sheet of tissue paper. During a time of war money is tight and everything must be used sparingly.

But children are forgiving creatures and on Christmas morning she proudly presented her father with the box that she had caring wrapped in that tissue paper.

Alas when the father opened the box and found it empty his anger grew again.
To him it was adding insult to injury and he lashed out at the little girl.
"don't you know that when you give someone a gift you must put something in the box"
The little girls eyes welled up with tears as she explained that the box wasn't empty.
"I blew kisses into the box daddy" she whimpered
"I gave you kisses for Christmas daddy because I love you"

At that the father took the child in his arms and apologised for he was a fool.

Sadly fate often has a cruel way of making a point.
And the little girl died just days latter.
It is said that the father kept the careingly wrapped box of kisses by his bed and drew strength From it in the hard times that lay ahead.
May this stay with you during this festive season.
May you remember the important gifts you've been given.
Remember your box of kisses.
The kind words and smiles the encouragement you've received from those around you.
Be grateful for these small but all important gifts.



Thursday, November 02, 2006

E-Buddies



I have nothing to say!...so if this blog turns out to be a disaster, I have already explained myself.........Not wanting to be left out among the more dedicated bloggers I intend to make something of this dead los situation and write something of some substance........... Of late our little community of bloggers and co. have put a lot of focus on friends and the meaning of friendship. Perhaps its just because Sam was right in saying that this is the time of year of good will, or perhaps its because the defining lines have been blurred a bit..........The grem and I discussed this at length last night and I want your opinion................I have many friends and I define friends as the people who's company I enjoy rather than the people who know my inners most thoughts. I care for my friends and I will help them out to the best of my ability if they need it. ............Friendship isn't measured by tears or by time.......... But here's where it gets tricky. ............Lately have been talking to a bunch of people I met on the net every day........... I talk to them more than the peeps I call my friends. Sometimes its a quick thread on MSN just to say Hi.........Other times we post on one another blogs to show that we made the time to read what was going on in one another lives...........We are supported by these people when were down and often the kind words or funny quotes give us a much needed boost.............. The point is that these "e-buddies" are showing an active interest in your day to day doings and screwing..........But most of them you've never met........ Then there are other issues..........The most beautifully of them all. It happens.... almost every day.... what if you were to find someone on the net you could see yourself fall in love with.......You've never seen one another so your feelings aren't tainted by the persons looks. You are simply attracted to their souls. The distance makes it all sweeter and that person helps you be the person you want to be because your inhibitions are through to the wind..........Now my question is......Do you consider these people your friends and would you consider meeting them.........I understand that the idea of meeting a person of the net is creepy but what if it were a group of people in a public place and no one single person out of the group goes alone each must bring a friend.......if I were to meat someone that's the way I would do it

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Song for a beloved (The widows grief)



And so the end now draws near
Those hopes
Those dreams
Wrapped now in the silver chains of menace


The end draws closer
Minuets draw slower their life
And above
the moon weeps for her


The end hath come
And yet days do not cease
Lunar and solar displayed are their glory each in turn
And darkness consumes this soul
Open wounds ooze their malignant spoils


The end has blanketed the mind in black mist and fear
There are ashes in the roses
And a future burnt with them
There are ashes in the roses
Death given
to life


But lo...
Somewhere she weeps
Her eyes have shadows now
Caught and held in desolation she does not understand
Taken from her soul
Cut from her flesh
And bled from her body
The recognition of herself in another




Thursday, October 26, 2006

Double up




Greetings and salutations, on this fine Friday morning.
Yesterday truly was fun!
There's nothing like a good old pointless fight to get the blood boiling.... um I mean Pumping.
So in the spirit of stirring shit, I fully intend to pick another fight today, However this time I'm keeping it general so all of us can participate in the mud slinging match.
I deliberated on the topic of discussion for hours, I leaned towards Evolution, but Naps and I have had that fight and neither of us have had our opinion swayed.
Then I thought of woman's Liberation but I figure that Aussie religious icon has kicked up enough dust.
And then It came upon me like a randy elephant.
Cloning!
One of the most controversial subjects of our modern world, its made headlines on neumourise occasions, and disturbed humanities moral thinking.
Now we ask ourselves weather its our right to create these copies from the one thing that truly makes us individuals... DNA...
The churches have risen to outrage, claiming that the practice is sin full and outrageous in the eyes of the all mighty.
And on the other side of the spectrum are couples who cant have children due to infertility or hereditary desease welcoming the idea of being able to carry and bare a child of their own.
Then theres the logistic problems.
What DNA is released for cloning?
The social aspect as discussed in the novel "Wicker", will a clones personality resemble that of the DNA donors?
Or do you not have an opinion?
Personally I am divided
We can create a human but we can't create a soul and that is ultimately what makes us human.


Tuesday, October 24, 2006

That which was broken



I have 3022 e-mails in my deleted items box, this is because my good friend Murphy always used to say "The moment you get rid of something will be the moment you need it for the first time".

I have had many a fight with this man Murphy and have as yet not won a single one. I believe that it in the spirit of learning from my own mistakes that I never permanently delete my e-mails.

Of late I have discovered that my antiquated e-mails make for good reading.

as I clicked through these cyber footprints of my life I was allowed to experience a world that has long since abandon me.

I read long e-mails from DW and AL planing our weekends and then remember movie marathon weekends during which we bankrupted Debonair and spend whole days watching "Star wars" "Matrix" "Lord of the Rings" "harry Potter" or whatever was our poison of choice that day.

I remember Myself Grem DW AL and Vee all falling asleep on DW bed one night.

Then there were the Tuesday and Friday e-mails. These mails contained exclamations of anticipation for the races ahead.

These e-mails bring back memories of Wesbank on scorching summer days.

They remind me of drinks after work in the back yard.

they remind me of Parties during which Naps would start stripping for no discernible reason.

The remind me of drinking beer under water on Christmas day... Why? why not?

But most of all they remind me of friends I no longer have and a time that was too short lived.

The reason for our estrangement is a storey too long for this post but I have apologised for my part in the game, and I believe that after 7 months its time for reconciliation.


The funny thing about the delete button on your explorer thingie is that you don't truly erase the mails, you just put them away for safe keeping.

Friends are like that too, I believe, Never gone just in another place.
So to all my good old friends, This is me holding out a hand.
Some of the broken stuff can still be fixed.
Just remember the good old days and youl see that its too high a price to pay

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

MORBID AFFIRMATION


A little more than a year ago I woke up, as I would on any other Sunday morning and went about my house work as any other morning.
Not for a moment did I think that By nine o clock I would be spread out on a streatcher on the tar road.
That day I was involved in a car accident that killed two people.
I had gotten engadged three weeks before and not for a moment did I imagine then that I would mourning my fancies death

My point is that life is fragile and we seldom appreciate this fact.
Today I challenge everybody to write down what you would like people to say at your funeral
and then try to live up to it

I'll start

Of all things I will remember about Lee, I will always remember that she was a happy person. She always seemed to be smiling.
She had a great spirit and held her head up high in the face of great adversity.
she was mindful of those around her and while she had her moments as we all do she couldn't hold a grudge too long
Lee was above all
a great friend
a great daughter
and a loving companion
May she rest in peace.

Now you do it
write it in the comments
put it on your blog and pass it on as it was passed down to me
Then live it!

Monday, October 16, 2006

TWENTY ONES





On the 14th day of the month of October in the year 2006. Lee celebrated the 21 aneversary of her birth, and on this day the Majy bestowed gifts of pleasure upon her.

Yes Peeps I turned 21 on saturday. And though all of this sounds very formal, I celebrated my birthday around a Braai fire. And the Majy came in the form of my friends and the gifts of pleasure well....

The Grem gave me a Vibrator that I am sure was a police batton in a former life.

Juan Andre Mandy and Gareth Gave me a bottle of Shnapps a cat whip and a dummy in the form of a male sex organ.

DW got me the full first season of Lost on DVD and a book that I already have (though that counts)

My mom and My sister gave me a digital camera that DW has still been playing with, I am convinced that by this time he can make coffy with it. This is a great gift as I can now post more pics on the Blog

It was all great fun and I was very sad when everybody retired at 03:30 on sunday morning.

A great big thank you goes out to everybody who was there. An even bigger thanks goes to DW and my mom for the party that they kept a secret from me.

I Love you guys lots

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

GONE LIVE



Hey look at me!

Live and wired! This is my first blog and its taken me a whole day to create, because I am an idiot when it comes to anything computer related.

My personal profile sucks, to say the least, this due to the above mentioned computer impediment I suffer from.

so for now I 'l give you some insight into the creature that is Lee

I am very almost 21 years old and to the best of my knowlige I am female. I promise to update my profile with the other boring stuff.

I am also the ultimate unlimited car freak I love them all and respect them all. Big small old if its got an engine and wheels its got my snaps.

I cut my car teeth building up Uno Turbos. And by the time I reached 18 I had been 50% of a team that built a 14 hundred uno turbo right up into the early 15 seconds and late 140 dB.

The end of the Uno's story is a sad one, on which I will elaborate at a latter stage.

My current big car interest is a Opel astra OPC. And I am not talking bout the lame looking new vectra shapes. Oh no this baby is a limited edition, one of only 150 in our country, and man is she a hotty

While I cant lay claim to being the owner of this tar eating monster I can lay claim on being the owners girlfriend (and if you own the guy the rest is just paper work).

This brings me to the next point of discution.

My boyfriend.

We call him Stiffla or Dark Wing. He's and idiot but I love him

Stiffla has had some of the hottest cars I've seen, he's also got the best ass I ve seen in my life but thats a different story.

This brings me to another promise. This time to post pics of he's cars both past and present

so thats it then

I'm BLOGGING