Divine Miscontent

Thgs Tht Ps Me Off But They Realy Shudnt Al Becz Im Nurotik n Mity Irationl Sumtims Espcialy Whn The PMS Sets In n I Hve a Frikn Rash i Cnt Get Rid Of

2006-03-26T01:50:00.000-01:00

Nah, just kidding. About writing about things that piss me off I mean. There are just so many I wouldn’t know where to begin. But I wasn’t kidding about the PMS. Or the goddamn STD-looking rash.
Anywayz, this is my last post. Lets just say one or two people got hold of this link and I feel that my writing has gotten severely compromised, defeating its original purpose as a forum to express my self-righteous indignation. Besides, i was begining to feel like I'm a modern day Narcissus. I've finally come to terms with the fact that I will never be a writer. But I’ll always be an avid reader, so to my fav bloggers - Bent, Carrie, Kykie - see ya’ll on your own turf.

With that said, I’ll leave you all with these profound words of wisdom:

Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum sonatur.
(whatever is said in Latin sounds profound)

Laterz.

Looking for the silver lining

2006-03-02T22:00:00.000-01:00

My life has reached the pinnacle of boredom. Things cannot possibly get any worse. Well, that’s not entirely true. Just three days ago, I though that was it – I was living the lowest form of existence comparable to that of the common nasal snot. Then I ran out of water. So I thought ok now this must be it. Things can only go up from here. Surely. Please. Then today the power fails. This is not a joke people. I’m living by candle light and showering from water drawn out of a nearby well. All those filthy buckets being dipped into a bottomless cesspool of crap. I don’t think I properly thought things through when I decided to move back home. Really, this was not my idea of the African dream. I’ve always wanted to get in more touch with my roots and learn more about my culture. But frankly I think my patience is wearing thin. I’ll survive the mosquito bites and the lizards I chased out of my house the whole afternoon. I’ll even survive the neighbour that seems to do nothing all day but sit on his balcony waiting for me to walk by so he can throw lecherous looks my way. I’ll survive anything.
But I just can’t take this god damned monotony any longer.

A revelation

2006-02-21T01:12:00.000-01:00

In my excitement of having unrestricted Internet at home I eagerly went in search of all the x-rated content I've been so deprived of. But I would just like to take this moment to announce that as of today, I OFFICIALLY HATE PORN. It's just plain disgusting. All that...er...liquid. And all those...um..orifices. Eeewww. I cringe just thinking about that scene i just saw. Yes ladies and gentlemen, believe it or not, from here on out this computer will be porn free.

Thats all.

Photography

2006-02-20T22:36:00.000-01:00

Coming to you live...ok not quite live...but coming to you nonetheless - from home! Woopie!. No more freaking office wirewall scrutinizing my every move and restricting my access. I finally got a laptop at work ~~to surf for porn~~ for when i travel and to ~~chat~~ get more work done in my free time. I also got internet at home(broadband my ass...it's lank* slow) so I will be spending less corporate hours goofing about and probably blog more often. Well, at least till I do something about the lack of a TV.

I'm at home. I've got a camera. Lets use it:

That's the little statuette i got over the weekend. I found myself drawn to it for some unknown reason. It was just sitting there all alone in the corner of the curio shop. So alone. I couldn't resist. I think it's cute. What's he sad about? If only i had the presence of mind to ask the guy who sold it to me. These things always have a delightful little story passed down from the creator.

My camera battery just died. These were taken by my phone hence the crappy quality.

Current book I'm reading:

Current CD i'm listening to:

They're both old but pretty new in my collection.
Okay, bored myself enough. Later.

*lank: South African slang for 'extremely'

I'm single and lovin' it

2006-02-10T15:56:00.000-01:00

It’s almost that time of the year again. That day when you get reminded of just how alone you are with the subtlety of a sledgehammer on a newborn’s soft spot. Even as you tell anyone who would listen you are fine and definitely don’t need anyone your voice seems hollow and lacks any real conviction.

For some reason I have never dreaded that day like I do this year. It might have something to do with the fact that I no longer care much for the status quo. I’m finally ready to admit I yearn for something more. Something most take for granted but I’ve never experienced before – to feel loved and love unconditionally in return. I want to cast cute puppy eyes upon my loved one as s/he hands me a cheesy, oversized red and white heart-infested undergarment accompanied by a humungous heart-shaped slab of chocolate. I, in turn, will ceremoniously unveil my set of matching heart-shaped pendants engraved with our initials and a large bouquet of red roses for good measure.

But I guess it won’t be this year. This year, like all the ones before it, I will put on a brave face, muster as much conviction as I can infuse into one sentence and purposefully recite my mantra: I’m single and lovin' it.

OMG!!

2006-02-10T15:38:00.000-01:00

OMG.
I just freaking found out that you just need to Google my surname and voila I’m sooo outted! Where’s the darn delete button??!!! Google has no delete button!
Note to self: When online, do not, I repeat, DO NOT post your REAL NAME when talking about your controversial sexuality punishable by law with up to 5 years imprisonment. Its not rocket science. Dipshit.

My dad said he was looking for our family members by Googling our surname (not too hard when you are not a Smith or a Jones) and that’s how he read my essay on my agnosticism on a popular atheist/agnostic site (yes dad, sorry you had to find out this way but I really do think your God fucking sucks). I tested it out… and lo and behold right there on page two of the search results was a number of things I’d written once upon a time I would rather my daddy dearest did not cast his eyes upon lest he be blinded or worse, keel over and drop right dead.

So excuse me while I go attempt to edit the Internet.

PS - This article is also mighty interesting...quite the buzz now.

Death and stuff

2006-02-07T08:37:00.000-01:00

Some dude drowned infront of my very eyes on Sunday at the beach. One minute he is building sand castles infront of us, 30 mins later some guys are pulling his pale body out of the water - a little too late. Thats only the second corpse I've ever seen close up. The warmest one, thats for sure. I even danced with him at the club on Saturday night. Cute as hell too.
*sigh* Life is but a fleeting glance.
Or something. (Lets pretend i said something profound).

Meanwhile back in the office - work pileth up.
Haven't had a moments breathing space and would've even come to the office over the weekend if one of my neighbours hadnt come up with the brilliant idea of a road trip to a seaside town for the weekend. Speaking of roadtrip, we were on our way back home after the incident above (i mean nobody goes anywhere near the water for the rest of the day after such an event) when we noticed people crowding up by the river to see this little kid not a day over 12 who had apparently drowned 3 days earlier but whose body just washed to shore.

So that's 2 dead people I saw within 2 hours.
Again: Life is but a fleeting glance.

I'm still TV-less. My puzzle is almost done though. There are like 100 sky pieces left and I found a rythm that really works for me so it shouldnt take more than an hour to finish it off. And this is it. No more freaking gazillion piece puzzles. what i need, is a life. (preferably involving one or two hot girlies...)

If you can reminisce that far back you will recall that back at university there were always one or two really weird people. Like that goth chick who you wonder how she ever became your friend. Or the vegan who you could swear lives off water and sunshine coz she doesnt seem to be able to eat anything you offer her. (i actually had a good friend who was vegan, gothic and had this weird stomach illness that eliminated most vegan-friendly dishes, but suprisingly, she wasnt particularly thin).
Anyway, one evening I looked up from my puzzle, saw incense burning, looked down at my bowl of dry cereal - when it dawned on me: I've actually become weirder than those weird chicks.
All i need now is 7 cats.

Um, i once said something or other about quitting smoking.... well, no comment.

Trip was ok. I didnt lose my company money afterall. I guess i was just a little paranoid.
Gotta work now.

Please leave a message after the beep

2006-01-29T17:01:00.000-01:00

I'm leaving tonight on a 5 day business trip to Uganda.
This will be is a quickie (mmmmmmmm quickie. Havent had one of those in yonks.) coz my flight leaves in like 3 hours and i still have shit to do before I leave and still need to pack as well and blogging was not supposed to be part of the 'shit to do'.
Hope the trip is cool, coz to tell you the truth I'm getting sick & tired of hotels. Well not really, coz i'd rather go than not go. Lesser of two evils, you know? No? Yeah well i don't know what i'm talking about either.
Plus its for a bi-annual meeting with the superboss (my boss' leash yanker) so i'm not looking forward to it because I would need to account for some suspect underpressure decisions I made during the past week (which by the way was the most horrible and pressure-filled week of my relatively short career) and if i did indeed succumb to a gross miscalculation that would mean i just lost my company a wee bundle to the order of about 5 mil. And i don't mean Yens or New Guinea dollars.

Anwayz i will try not to think the worst and hope I will come out of this smelling like roses and perhaps even get presented with a badge of honour for my brilliant decision making in a time of great personal strife. Oh wait, thats the army. Well a nice pack of paper clips and a shiny new stapler will have to do then.

Must run. See ya'll on the flip side.

Beeeeeeeep

the withdrawal sets in

2006-01-23T13:54:00.000-01:00

Its 3:30.
I feel like shit.
I'm stressed and hungry.
Real bad time to quit.
No its not an excuse. I'm just sayin.

I'd be fine now if i'd deliberately opted to not go out on a ciggie break. But when you CANT - hell hath no fury like a scorned lung. I feel so....empty. Bereft of my PREEECIOUSSS. I feel like i could use just one more before i quit. Just one more! Would i blamed if i snagged 1? Just to get me through the rest of this tough day... just one teeny weeeny ciggie? Not even a whole one...how about just one drag? huh? Half a drag?

Looks like its going to be a long long day.

The dawn of a new era

2006-01-23T07:24:00.000-01:00

Nah. Nothing that dramatic.
Same ol' me will be doing the same ol' shit.
Unless Monday is considered a 'new era'.
Nevertheless, there will be one or two improvements around here.

For one:

Drumroll please, coz:

TODAY IS THE DAY I QUIT SMOKING.

Yup. Rip off the gas mask and take huge whiff of me as you hum to Kool & the Gang's "she's fresh she's so fresh..."

My fingers WILL twitch, I WILL develop a nervous jerk in withdrawal, but I WILL resist.

To the 'quit somking' industry: if you think you're getting a penny off me with your pills, patches, sprays, gums etc, etc...you can pucker up coz you'll be meeting my ass. There's only 1 drug i need, and thats Determination.

The reason I'm really driven to quit is i can see how its affecting my health. I used to be so active. I was an athlete. Ok i was 10 and won the potato sack race, but still, I was an athlete dammit. And now i can't even bend over to pick up something i dropped without feeling out of breath and hurting like i dislocated my pelvis.

So I'll rejoin the gym tonight.
And throw out the rest of the ice-cream.

I guess this IS a new era afterall.

Still here. Still queer.

2006-01-17T11:57:00.000-01:00

I spent the weekend with my mom who lives about an hour's drive away from me. Apparently some woman recently came to see her to negotiate the terms of my betrothal to her son. Yip, I also thought shit like that faded with the dinosaurs. Thankfully mom was simply bemused by the whole affair, especially since I’ve never seen the guy and the woman doesn’t know me from Adam. Good thing my dad is not around coz he’d have taken the whole thing way too seriously.

I would never consider coming out to my mom, much less my dad. They just wouldn’t understand. Hell, I barely understand it myself.

I have nightmares of the two families gathered in the living room, debating my worth in cows and goats as we (the hubby-to-be and I) sit meekly in the corner and watch as the drama unfolds.

Needless to say, my long overdue nervous breakdown looms ever closer. And when I crack, the proverbial shit is bound to hit the fan.

Waaaaay too much info

2006-01-13T11:01:00.000-01:00

Happy New Year everyone!

Whoohooooo!
weeeeeeeeee!
wooooooo!
Yeah!
Okay i'm done.

Vac’s over.
Hello mind-numbing daily grind.

Grad
Was exactly as I thought it would be: Zzzzzzzzzzz.
I heard some varsities have choirs and performances and stuff. Nope. Not mine. Just an endless string of names periodically interrupted by the shrieking of a neurotic-but-proud mom because apparently cheering loudly just doesn’t cut it. You’ll find it’s not uncommon during grads in SA. Don’t ask - it’s a cultural thing. My dad even signed up one of ‘em moms to screech when my name was called.

Christmas
Spent Christmas with the family (dad and both brothers) at a friend of my dad’s. Turned out to be even more tedious than grad. I ended up watching soccer on TV the whole time which considerably brightened up my day until one nut job decided the time was ripe to interrupt my viewing in order to show off his musician-wannabe nephew’s homemade music video. At that point I thought maybe I could drink the day into oblivion but my dad made sure I knew he was counting and felt 2 drinks was already 1 too many.

Seems the days when merely mentioning the word ‘Christmas’ around me would erect the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are long gone. The prospect of a mysterious present under my bed hand-delivered by Santa himself and more presents under the Christmas tree from my parents and every one of their friends would unfailingly sprout goose bumps on my arms….ahhh the good ol’ days when Christmas was magical and gifts aplenty. I’m not asking for much, I’d settle for a home cooked family lunch with the entire family playing games and cracking jokes like when we were kids. But I can’t remember the last time the whole family was together for Christmas, and these days even if we are, things are just not the same. Over the last couple of years it has lost its appeal and become a drab affair I have to be subjected to every year.

New Years
Well, judge for yourselves.
On that Eve I was home alone with a bottle of Amarula (SA version of Bailey’s) and a bucket full of weed. I’ve already established I’m a loner but even for me that was a whole new level of lonesomeness. With no friends around and my sortof-girlfriend unreachable, I could either tag along with my dad or hang out with the teenage brothers. Both options were completely unacceptable to I opted to stay in an entertain myself.

However, something quite peculiar did happen earlier that afternoon. Take a seat and lean back coz this one’s a biggie. Before I confess allow me to set the stage to soften the blow in a desperate attempt to regain what was once my dignity:

I was bored.
I had gone through every readable material in the house including the shampoo bottle ingredient label and 'Pippi goes to school' in my little sister's collection. My mind was desperate for some stimulation - any sign that it still had the capacity for activity.
That’s when I decided to touch it - the only book left unread in the entire house. My dad had bought it for my 14-year-old sister a couple months back when she was in SA for holidays. I glanced around furtively to make sure no one was looking before tentatively picking it up and quickly retreating to the depths of my room, bolting the door to conceal my crime.

I confess that from page 2 (after my first audible giggle) I was hooked, and I knew there was no putting it down.
I confess that I now will have to re-watch the flick (which I initially thought was a waste of money even though it was from a cheap video store).
I confess that I will now have to 'accidentally purchase' the others in the series.

Its no use trying.
I have lost all self respect and become one those people I love to hate - Harry Potties.
1 down (Chamber of Secrets). 5 to go.

So my new years eve was spent getting stoned, wasted, reading Harry Potter in the garden while fireworks lit up the sky around me. Alone, while my bros got their freak on in town and my dad and a buddy of his decided to hit an underground club. Rock on daddy! My dad is one those stereotypically British-y formal types, always suited up. The kind of guy you can’t help but call 'Sir' or ‘Mr’. Well I shouldn’t be surprised. I suppose even the pope jams to a little Linkin Park on New Year’s Eve right after his evening Hail Mary recital.

Inbetween

I did get some on my trip though. Got quite a lot of some actually.
She asked me not to blog about her (she's been reading this blog for a while now) but I can't help it. Liv, I’m sorry but you will just have to sue me. We have one of those ‘open’ relationships because I don’t feel the need to commit. We used fight a lot about all kinds of little irrelevant things but I think we really connected on this trip and reached a point where I’m beginning to reconsider our non-exclusivity clause. But even if I decided to go full throttle there's always the distance - Cameroon isn’t exactly a bus ride from SA. Unless I relocate?
Dear Dr Ruth,
How do you know when you are in love? I miss her. I enjoy her company. She makes me laugh. She makes me happy. But the thought of her with someone else does not make me jealous.
So how do you know?
Do you just ‘know’?
Grrrrrr.

Ok nuff of that

In other news

Spent the morning appreciating the ‘new and improved’ Acrobat Reader 7.0. It kicks major butt. No more 5-minute waits for the app to load like in the 5.0 series while every person who has ever contributed to any aspect of the project has their name displayed.

I need to quit smoking man. Really. I just cannot have it on next year’s resolution list.

Got to lose the love handles. I swear I will impale the next fucker who talks about my waistline. Fuck off already.

And that concludes my litany.
Au revoir.

postus interruptus

2005-12-08T11:56:00.000-01:00

I’m going on vacation.
It’s unreal.
It’s going to be so weird to not wake up panic stricken, wondering exactly how late I’m going to be for work that morning.

Tomorrow is my last day of work.
I won’t be at my desk though because I need to make one last business trip to represent my company at a trade fair on the other side of the country. Then I have to fly back on Sat morning, pack and fly out to Joburg (SA) on Saturday evening. Sunday I’ll be flying to Cape Town in time to pick up my robe on Mon and graduate on Tues. Or is it Wed?
Pft. Who cares. Sometime during the week.

According to me I’m already a graduate. Been a graduate since I handed in my dissertation and left university in Jan. Only graduating now because they took so bloody long to examine my thesis I couldnt make the June ceremony.

To me grad is just a big showdown where people feel special and accomplished, old men wear dresses, photographers hit the jackpot, parents burst with pride and graduants get wasted. Been there, done that, got the T-Shirt. Literally. It’s a dull, purple waste of cotton with…wait for it… ‘Class of 2002’ written on it. How exciting.

I can think of better T-Shirts the computer science dept could have come up with:

me = grad
do
booze++
until brain == dead

I would have skipped the whole hullabaloo if my dad hadn’t popped a vein at the thought of me graduating in absentia. It means more to him than it does to me, so I thought I’d just let him get his proud moment. Afterall, he did have to put up with my incessant demands for more money during my days of perpetual brokeness.

So I’ll be gone for a month.
Might post.
Or not.

Thanks to everyone who has stopped by and actually left a comment. (Hint hint you lurking lot) I know I act like I don’t care, but *sniff* , *Sob* I do. I really do. I weally weally wuv you all!

*clears throat*.
Yeah, whatever.
That was sooo not me. It’s the other voice in my head.

Later people.

Shoot me please

2005-12-06T12:17:00.000-01:00

I've made two major blunders today. Okay, one major the other minor.

The first was at a workshop this morning. The Chief Technical Officer of the ...what’s the word (we are the supplier - they are the? supplyee?)... recipient company of the stuff we sell...was making a presentation when he realised what he had just said was slightly inaccurate so right in the middle of the sentence he just yelled out "hold your horses, I'm a lying thief!". Man, I couldn't help it - I just burst out into incontrollable spasms of laughter right there in the middle of the presentation with my boss staring me down as if to say "get a grip woman". These people have zero sense of humour. How could you not find that funny? The only other person who joined in with a covert giggle was this guy Michel, who I really like because he's like me in so many ways. Anyway, if I wasn’t dark, I'm sure I’d have been a bright shade of red...

The MAJOR booboo was an incident with a certain colleague. She creates invoices for us, except given the multinational nature of my company she's physically located on the other side of the world and we communicate almost entirely by email. The email system goes down and people actually go home because of how much we rely on it to get any work done.

So I’ve been asking her to generate invoices for some work we have completed for the supplyee company. She ignores my emails then quite out of the blue asks if she can invoice something completely irrelevant. To cut a long story short, a series of mails were exchanged between her (wining as usual) my boss (telling her to not take things personally) and another colleague while I just looked on with mild amusement because I’m the only person who knows the full story and the extent of her insanity. I started composing a reasonable email to highlight the whole invoicing mix-up in a reproachful but suitably professional manner when I got caught up in my own profound irritation for her and started to write down exactly what I really wanted to say. The worst part is I actually accidentally sent it:

Hi H...,

I’ve asked you REPEATEDLY to raise specific invoices. I say, you invoice. That’s how it works. But nooooo. You are involved in your own personal agenda and ask me if you can raise invoices that are not relevant at the moment, just because YOU think they are invoiceable. You are not reachable by phone, fax, email or telepathy. I'm not the only person with this problem. Ask ANYONE who has worked with you. Everyone just shakes their head and mutters, 'that woman is mad' at the utterance of your name. I realise you are busy, but don't mystify the whole process like it’s a big deal to insert a PO number and click a button that says 'generate invoice' - yes I do happen to know how its done. Now please pull the rod out of your behind and kindly send me my invoice.

Best Regards,
Lyn

So I guess I’m going to clean out my desk now and not expect any compensation.
Except she is so irritating my boss might even be mildly amused.
Anyway, I immediately called her up (dropped a voicemail and sent more emails) and told her I didn’t mean to send it and such...
Its a moments like this I wonder if I’m really a normal.

Paris

2005-12-02T10:50:00.000-01:00

I must be missing something because I just don’t seem to get it. Try as I may to partake in the globally shared revulsion for Paris, I’m just not feeling it. I stumbled on yet another blog where the author feels the world would a better place if she was ‘shot into space and left there to die a slow and painful death’. So this begs the question: Why does everyone rag on Paris Hilton?

- Could it be her sense of style?
No she didint! Is that… *gasp*… the same dress she wore to that thing at that place last month!?! Not only is it REPEATED but also hopelessly OUTDATED! Holy MotherofGod, this must be the end of the world as we know it.
So the fluorescent pink top does not go with the lime green mini skirt. Infact it couldn’t possibly go with any colour known to man. Boo-freaking-hoo. Let's line up the firing squad.

- Maybe because she’s rich?
Selfish bitch. Why didn’t she do the right thing and politely decline her inheritance: No thank you daddy. I would much rather spend my entire life in a tiny cubicle trying to figure out which spot to bang my head against next while I desperately try to regain feeling in my lips from kissing my boss’ ass all freaking day and trying very hard not to drive my pencil into the next fucker who calls me ‘the chick who sits by the water cooler’ my name is Paris goddammit, PARIS.

- Because she's no Angelina Jolie? So that’s why everybody hates her! because she's just Too Damn Ugly. Take a good look in the mirror people. Chances are you are NOT prettier than her. And if you are, well good for you. Now shut the fk up.

- Or perhaps because she’s a party animal and none too prim.
Oh man, here’s what happens when the moral fabric of society breaks down. Paris happens. When we are all in church singing Holy holy holy, Paris is recovering from a hangover…or still perpetuating one. We were in church weren’t we? Well, some of us right? Any of us? Anyone? I know I for one I was probably lying on my bed spent, cheeks still flushed in the aftermath, grinning with contentment and sucking on a cigarette.
So Paris, ROCK ON!

- She’s named after a Hotel.
Did you not get the memo? Woe betides she that is named after a hotel. Damned she shall be - forever cast out to fringes of society where she will be publicly ridiculed to serve as a lesson to all those who poignantly refuse to uphold the virtues of this great land we live in– those who fail to abide by the 1st Commandment: THOU SHALL NOT NAMETH THINE OFFSPRING AFTER THOU’S HOTEL lest you get cast into outer space and left there to wither and die.

Frankly I couldn’t care less if she was infact blasted into outer space. Paris means absolutely diddlysquat to me. But I can’t help but be fascinated by the outright global disdain for Miss Hilton. A young woman with lots of money lots of time lots of attention and lots of sex = lots of resentment I suppose.

Anyway, for argument sake and for my personal edification: why do YOU hate Paris?

Just yappin away again

2005-11-28T15:33:00.000-01:00

Wow. It seems my occasional senseless mumblings have now been reduced to a mere bi-monthly incoherent stutter.
Anywayz, there’s nothing to report.
I’m alive.
Woopie-doop.

Just trying to figure out what’s going on with this blog. Yes Misha, what gives? I’m still soothing my bleeding, calloused and blistered fingers from having to scroll down for five minutes to encounter any form of text. I feel like some great pioneer…Eureeka! Text! I. FOUND. TEXT!!!

I think I need a project. Like join a knitting club or somethin. Not that I feel bored in my little house with the occasional er…sleepover guest, but its always good to have a temporary escape from my egocentric universe. I don’t have a TV…long story…so I got a 3000-piece puzzle. Jesus. WTF was I thinking? its 30% sky! But you can only do a puzzle for so long before you need to go out and strike up a conversation with the neighbour’s cat because you are so deprived of any form of social contact.

I’m considering splashing out on an Xbox and a coupla games (if you know any good ones let me know!). I know, I know, I should be saving up for diapers, or at least buying some decent clothes, but somehow clothes/shoes/accessories just don’t feature in my list of purchase priorities, what with essential things like video games, a pool table and a mini-bar taking up my salary for the next few months. Methinks its time I stop pretending to be a mature and sophisticated woman (not that anyone ever bought it) and let that inner 12-year old run loose.

****************************************************************

I came across these on the Ellen Fanlisting:
I’ve never been in love, but I seriously think I could love this woman. I mean like really really love her.

“Friends will write me letters. They run out of room on the front of the letter. They write 'over' on the bottom of the letter. Like I'm that much of a moron. Like I need that there. Because if it wasn't there, I'd get to the bottom of the page: 'And so Kathy and I went shopping and we--' That's the craziest thing! I don't know why she would just end it that way."

"I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her."

"In the beginning there was nothing. God said, 'Let there be light!' And there was light. There was still nothing, but you could see it a whole lot better."

"(When in a public washroom) We have that little territory cough that we use. Scares people away. 'Cause even if there is a lock, there are these idiots who will continue to try to open the door. You say, 'Somebody's in here... idiot'. What are they thinking? 'It's just stuck. I know it. Just somebody's shoes they left in there earlier. Get the ramrod, this one is tight!'"

Th-th-thats all folks!

sick

2005-11-17T11:08:00.000-01:00

I’ve been sick as a dog for the last couple of days.
Sick as a dog? I won’t even pretend to understand the English language. Speaking of the English language, who the hell knows how to use a semi-colon properly? You want to end the sentence; but you don’t; so you just shove it; somewhere?

Anyhow, back to my affliction: Spent the last two days lying in bed having K wait on me (erm, no, didn’t actually deliver the whole “its not you, its me” break-up speech I’ve been formulating – YET). I’m supposed to pick up the results of my blood test today and find out exactly what’s wrong with me. Could be a cold or the flu or cholera or Tuberculosis or the on-set of AIDS or... Hmm, maybe I should just wait for my results.

I have a feeling it might have something to do with the four bloated mosquitoes I killed this morning flying around lazily, slower than usual since they were stuffed with my blood. I killed them, if for nothing else, just to wipe the smirk on their bloodied faces. I probably didn't have to coz they were so fat any moment they would've popped on their own anyway. My apartment is buzzing with hundreds of those deadly little carnivores and nothing I do seems to get rid of them. I hardly ever get sick; (oooooh! could that actually be the correct use of a semi-colon??) in fact it was probably back in 2001 the last time I had anything more than a runny nose. Been in this blood sucking fest for 1 month and I suddenly come down with fever, shivers, coughs, the whole shebang. I’ve tried insecticides and some weird coily thing that burns all night and reeks up the entire place so bad that even I don’t wanna be in the apartment although the mosquitoes don’t seem to mind much. There’s this lotion that is supposed to ward off bugs from within 1m of me. More like attracts them from the look of things. There's something you plug into the power outlet which is supposed keep them away from the building, not much good that's done me so far. A combination of all four seems to result in the sweetest perfume, because thats when they come diving into my skin brandishing forks and knives with a napkin tied around their neck.

At this stage there’s only one thing left to do: BURN THE HOUSE DOWN. That ought to show 'em who’s boss. But I've been advised against that, so instead, my apartment is getting professionally fumigated today - you're going down, sick bastards! I can almost picture a dozen or so masked men striding into the apartment in slow motion, surrounded by a cloud of toxic fumes as the Mission Impossible soundtrack resonates in the backgound...

Hopefully that’ll keep me safe.
For a week, at least.

In a bit of a bind

2005-11-08T14:04:00.000-01:00

I had an awesome weekend. You know, one of those filled with lots and lots of…how do I keep this PG….erm, candy. It all started when I invited a certain miss K over for dinner on Friday night. Next thing we knew, it was Sunday afternoon and we were having breakfast in bed. I’m sitting in my office now grinning like an idiot consumed by thoughts of what went down (literally) last weekend. I need to purse my lips in a monumental display of self-restraint to avoid going into an explicit narrative every time someone asks me how my weekend was.

She's at least at least 6 years younger than me (or I?), but what a cutie. She’s hilarious, a major plus in my book; an insatiable hot-blooded tigress.

It's not all roses though. There’s just one itsy bitsy problem I conveniently ignored the whole weekend. To me, this is all just an entertaining anecdote to, for the most part, a lacklustre week. But it was obvious from the heart dangling off her sleeve, she wants more.

She looks and acts young. I mean ‘just hatched’ young. Her favourite musicians? Britney and N’Sync. In our severely intoxicated state we spent a good deal of time being shattered that Britney broke up with Justin. I’d rather donate my entire future income to preserve the blood sucking anopheles mosquito that plagues my every evening than talk about who those two are shagging these days.
But anyway, I indulged her.
I glossed over the fact that her dream destination is Disneyland (I’m thinking hell, who doesn’t like Disneyland, right?). I dig cartoons too, so no biggie there either, and well, the word ‘like’ has been known to make a home for itself when randomly infused into any part of a sentence: we were like there, and it was like so cold. And I was like “its cold” and she was like “yeah”. I even overlooked the Swatch watch - you know the one: colourful, plastic with the Mickey Mouse hour hand. But that’s all superficial right? Afterall it’s the ~~hotness~~ heart that counts…and she has a good heart, great personality and is very funny. And hot.

But I draw the line on the needy act. I will happily use a pair of tweezers to uproot every single pube from my Triangle of Joy than put up with a clingy person in love.

According to some online personality test, I suffer from the little known 'schizoid' personality disorder:

"People with schizoid personality disorder avoid relationships and do not show much emotion
(Man U nailed Chelsea's blue ass to the curb over the weekend. Did you not see that emotion?? )
Schizoids genuinely prefer to be alone and do not secretly wish for popularity.
(Alone. I vant to be alone. Too true).
They tend to seek jobs that require little social contact. (No wonder I hate my job)
Their social skills are often weak (Oi!) and they do not show a need for attention or acceptance. They are perceived by others as humorless (fine, I admit -my jokes are lame.) and distant and often are termed "loners." (yip). "

So thats me.
Schizoid meets clingy. Not good.

*Sigh*. It's been fun. Its going to seem like I used her, but I have to end this now. I will call her up tonight and find nice gentle words to tell her to take my number off the “call every hour on the hour” button and pray that all I hear is a series of four letter expletives, or better yet a slamming phone rather than a strained silence interrupted by the shrill *crack* of a breaking heart.

Hands up! Now step away from the computer...

2005-11-01T11:54:00.000-01:00

I've had this PII for like what, 7 years now? Works great, no problemo. I don't tinkle with it, I don't buy new components, just threw in a CD writer extra RAM and then just let it be. It’s old and wheezes a little bit, but still keeps on chugging along just fine.
But guys? Nooooooo. You're always upgrading something or other. Off fixin' some part that is clearly not broken, or just opening it up for the hell of it. You all think you were born mechanics or electrical engineers.

Case in point, my kid brother has had my computer for all of 4 days, but then yesterday he calls to tell me that out of the blue it just went ‘poof’ and died.

It went poof?
Uh-huh.
What do you mean it went poof?
Huh? That’s the sound it made. I was trying to replace the fan unit.
And this is because....?
I was trying to fix the wheezing.
Gee, thanks. You sure fixed it alright. Consider yourself banned from the vicinity of my PC. Twat.

*edited to add:*
I apologise for my abuse of the word 'just' in those first two paragraphs. I'm just hungry.

The PRM

2005-10-28T09:32:00.000-01:00

Yesterday was the day of the dreaded Performance Review Meeting. The ominous face-to-face cross-examination starring my boss. I was immediately consumed by unpleasant visions of what was going to transpire – I’d sit there meekly looking holier than Jesus Himself while he picks me apart: you're always late, you chew with your mouth open and then burp loudly (btw that was ONE time), you definitely need to get some decent clothes and proper shoes and a new personality while you’re at it…in fact you are a disgrace to the respectable Sales profession, the only reason we keep you here is because you dad knows some people in some very high places…

He had scheduled half hour sessions the entire day to get through all of us. And I was first. Knowing my boss, there was no way he could tell me everything I'd done wrong in the last 6 months within the allotted 30 minutes. Plus throw in 5 extra minutes for the compulsory "encouraging words" like well, at least you do write neat. And I'd be like, thank you, you're much too kind.

As it happened, things were turning out exactly as I thought they would, 35 minutes had flown by and we were still stuck on item 1 of the 10-point PRM checklist. No other person this side of the milkyway can say so little with so many words. He just droned on and on and on… So...also...and…but...because...therefore... furthermore…When he’s done using up the world’s daily quota for the use of the word ‘furthermore’, he spices things up by throwing in an ‘additionally’. And when that’s been sufficiently abused, enter in ‘notwithstanding’. He is truly the personification of one endless sentence.

After a while I blocked it all out, nodding occasionally, trying hard not to stare at a huge flake of dandruff loosely hanging off a greying hair strand. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind I could faintly pick out some English words interspersed with what sounded like a cross between Gaelic and baby-speak: …blah blah bleur OBJECTIVES schmid schnum yakety yak GOALS blurg blub FURTHERMORE bloob hoob TOILET schmick schmuck schplick schmoon DEADLINES itsy bitsy moinch moinch ADDITIONALLY….

But then out of nowhere I distinctly hear the word PROMOTION. It takes a while to register, but suddenly my ears eagerly perk up. I realise the blurred smudge in front of me was actually my boss all along as his face snaps back into focus. I watch his mouth move, but this time I could actually hear the words as they came out. He is saying, "…we feel you deserve it, and you are one of the best I’ve worked with..."

Me?!?!
No. Freaking. Way.
This cannot be MY evaluation.
He just said he has confidence in me! That’s when I knew he has fallen off the deep end for sure. Yup, it’s official. My boss has gone stark raving mad.

I'm generally not one of those excitable types but I needed to keep my cool even though I was dying to hug him and place his face on my bosom while I knuckle-rub his head. But instead, I nodded calmly, cleared my throat and answered, "Oh, that’s nice. Thank you" in a kind of air that said, "damn straight I deserve it" but all the while thinking Holy Shit. Professional standards must have really dropped. In monetary terms, it doesn’t add up to much more, but still, the “Assistant” part of my job title has now been officially and permanently stricken off.
So there you have it. My first EVER promotion.
Weeeeeeeeeee!

**********************

Well, it’s 24 hours later.
The joy has worn off and I feel exactly the same as I did last week.
Nothing has changed. I still don’t think I’m cut out for this sales crap.
I was born a programmer.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to face up to that fact.

Eye candy

2005-10-21T00:33:00.000-01:00

This blog is so devoid of visual stimulation so... ta da!!!

ENJOY.

Don't ask me who these two are. Don't know, don't particularly care.
But me likes what they is do!

What do i need to do to find myself in similar circumstances?
I'm tired of living vicariously as others (YES YOU, not so much you) recount their sexual escapades.

Little kids read this:
Don't worry kiddies, its a game of Twister - new rules with elbows and knees - I swear! You just can't see the coloured spots from this angle...

Space

2005-10-17T17:52:00.000-01:00

I moved out on Fri.
Since then i've been drowning with "friends" coming to "visit" who just wont fucking leave.
Like this dude camping out on my couch.
I mean it was great to have these guys around to drag in my furniture and stuff.
Thank you. Now go.
I've only had my crib for a couple hours but I already have crashers i cant get rid of.
Why am I so bloody nice??
Can't even masturbate in peace.
You know what..screw it.
I just need to go home now and tell him to get the fuck out of my house.

OUCH!!

2005-10-13T11:30:00.000-01:00

So I woke up early this morning feeling sexy, feeling scorching HOTTT and wondering why everything smelt like roses on a warm spring day. Normally I would rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor in search of something that doesn’t smell like a putrefying corpse and complete the ensemble with my old but trusted pair of comfy sandals. As it happened, this morning I had a whole hour to prepare for work (1 whole freaking hour!) instead of the customary 20 minute desperate scramble because I over slept yet again.

I located my favourite short funky skirt, my only silk blouse and searched the pile of rubble under the bed for my sexiest piece of shoewear - the new lookatme! lookatme! brownish strappy stiletto I had purchased the other day. Spent more than two minutes on my hair, accessorised and dusted off my only lipstick and eyeliner before applying a generous quantity onto my neglected face. I looked absolutely stunning, if I dare say so myself. I felt stunning, and by gawd was I a sexy little thing and a half.

High-heeled shoes is something only a select few have ever seen on me, so yes, as expected, I did get a few raised eyebrows: "No I’m not seeing anyone. Nope, didn’t get laid recently either". From this promising start, I cannot tell you the precise moment I realised things were not quite working according to plan.

Could it have been the moment I found myself on all fours on the steps leading to my office? Or perhaps it was when broke the heel of one shoe stumbling over some rocks I swear were deliberately placed there to taunt me. Or possibly it was the moment I noticed my sexy gait had somehow transmogrified into a pain-induced stuttering limp.

Its only 11:30am and I'm on my way home to reconsider my footwear selection.

This one thing I know for sure: feeling sexy or not, I will never again be spotted within 5 miles anything above a 1-inch heel.

Spam

2005-10-10T22:11:00.000-01:00

Is it just me or has blogger started getting copious amounts of spam these days? Its even more annoying because its a really bad attempt at sounding like a real post with their lame text...

"This is a really great site. Very enjoyable topic, good choice. I'll bookmark you and pop in once in a while. Please visit my website: instant credit approval".

Oh look, wow. He likes my topic. I think I'll go visit his site now. NOT.

Wishlist

2005-10-10T14:26:00.000-01:00

Bear with me, but I have to play the poor miserable girl from Africa card. How else am I going to get what I want? So here goes:

I am a minority in at least a hundred different ways.
I'm possibly in a special subset of my own: I'm black, female, gay, agnostic (secular humanist) and a paraplegic geek. Ok, I’ll level with you; I’m not really paraplegic. I guess I should be grateful that I’m not handicapped physically or mentally, although my mental capacity is debatable. But with the all whining about unequal rights that goes around these days there MUST be something I could join the bitching posse and be outraged and up in arms about.

I should be walking around with a huge chip on my shoulder and I should be feeling marginalised, misrepresented, discriminated against, disempowered, disadvantaged, disenfranchised and a whole lot of dis-whathaveyous.

But I’ve been pretty fortunate in my life and I’ve had very little to complain about. I’ve never felt the sharp sting of rejection, never felt discriminated against because of the colour of my skin…I’ve accepted that in this part of the world queer folk will NEVER have the same rights as the heteros, or ANY rights for that matter, in fact we should feel really lucky if we are not shot on sight. So in that respect I don’t even feel discriminated against because it is a liberty I cannot even dare to dream about. There will always be things that about me that make my parents wonder where they went wrong. The universe will keep on bursting at the seams with people with tiny chicken brains with a limited scope of the world and its people.

Fortunately, I decided long ago [not to walk in anyone’s shadow…- Sorry, Whitney Houston moment there] that the only way for me to keep my sanity is to not let anything penetrate my tough exterior. So as it turns out I really don’t feel disadvantaged in any way. But for the sake of my wishlist, lets play pretend.

Lets pretend I have experienced some great social injustice.
Lets pretend I am deeply traumatised by the fact that I will never be allowed to get married, at least, not to another woman.
Lets pretend I’m outraged by the fact that I have to swear on a Bible I don't believe in if I ever have to testify.
Lets pretend that you care about any of this.

So I hereby present you with my wishlist - the worldly desires of a poor disadvantaged ~~little girl~~ woman from Africa. I can provide pictures of starving kids if that would help set the scene...
All I ask is that you empathize in cash or kind:
Cash

Any amount you can spare, but I'm partial to bills. Big bills.

Kind

Friends DVD - The One With All 10 Seasons
L Word Season 1 and 2 DVDs – I have only ever seen one episode (the episode where Tina finds out that Bette cheated on her and they end up in some weird bitch fight/fucked up love session) and downloaded most of the teasers off sho.com.
An all expense paid trip to watch Manchester United kick Chelsea’s ass in a premiership match.

See, I don’t ask for much.
I'm too lazy to go through the process of setting-up a paypal account.
It’s easy, but like I said I'm too lazy. But I'm still one step ahead of those with placards - I've got a Blog. Now, if that isn’t A for aeffort, I don’t know what is.
So if you want to donate let me know. It’s for a charitable cause...indoctrinating me in the exclusive world of dykes (thanks to the L Word DVDs you will graciously donate to my cause) and commiserating with me and my unique minority status.

Remember Karma - you reap what you sow (FYI - I believe Jesus may have said something similar).
(Breaking into song:)
So sow. Sow away.
And you'll reap great rewards one day.

3 things

2005-10-06T11:54:00.000-01:00

This is not a me!me! It's a mini rant.

3 things that irritated me on the WWW today:

Crappy political blogs. Bush sucks. Yes. Now move on. I really don’t care what [insert dubious news source] said about [insert daft leftwing extremist], concerning the [insert exaggerated blown out of proportion something-gate 'scandal']. And since we're all retarded when you quote make sure it is indented, centred, italicised, wrapped in quotation marks and preceded by “And I quote:”, since that’s the only way we can tell it’s a quote.

The darn slow Internet. DHL will do a better job transporting my bytes around than my ISP.

The fact that I find celebrity gossip blogs like Go Fug Yourself extremely entertaining. Normally, I should tell them they need to stop being so mean and get on with their shallow lives, but I cant. Coz they are just too damn funny.

3 non-internet things that drove me up the wall:

My boss. With no warning he...I can't say it... *sob* *sniff* *puke in wastebasket*...he...he made us highlight all our personal calls when the phone bill came! I wouldn't have made so many non work-related international calls had I known he was going to go Boot Camp-y on us. Now I have this mega bill to pay that’s going to be deducted from my paycheck. Crap.

Someone please tell me why i drink black coffee? I hate it. I fucking hate it. It tastes like dissolved charcoal meets diesel fuel...um... I would imagine. I drink it strong and remain undeterred even when it's cold. Then I get up for a second cup. I do this religiously every morning. This pretty much sums up my life: I do stuff I don’t like. And I don't even know why. Like give that drooling jerkosaurus my phone number, or lend money when I know that as long as it's not raining Benjamins I will never see it again.

Harry Potter. Yet another person asked me if I’ve read the latest Harry installment. Harry who?? Holy Shit. People, please. Get out, get some air. Visit your local museum. Grow dandelions in your backyard, whatever, just please pick a new hobby.

3 things that made my day:

Nope. I racked my brain for ages, but I got nothin.

Home sweet home

2005-10-03T03:23:00.000-01:00

I was out of my office for a ciggie break and some air (mutually exclusive?) when this mailman who had come in to drop a parcel proceeded to lecture me on the hazards of smoking. Smoking is bad for your health??? No kidding! This is news to me. He just kept spinning that same old scratched CD about how it’s affecting my ability to procreate and who will want to marry me then…

Dude. That’s rich coming from you. Pick your belly off the floor or at least buy a shirt big enough to cover it and wobble back to your undersized scooter. I will quit…one day. But let me worry about the kids I will never have. You are proud of your good health? I’m sorry to burst your bubble but those varicose veins aren’t going to get you past fifty either. Now lay off the beer, give your tiny scooter to your son and go save some other poor sod.

In other news...
Its been a long time coming but I'm FINALLY moving out from my Aunt's place this weekend (yay!!). I've been fixing up the apartment for the last week and spending my time browsing the web for interior decoration tips, devouring articles with titles like "how to make a small apartment feel like home". Everyone is avoiding me these days coz right now I'm all about couches, paint and curtains. From talking about dog food I guarantee we will end up discussing just how shabby "shabby-chic" is or the most effective techniques to create an illusion of space. I can't count the number of times i have stopped in mid sentence because I noticed something that gave me an interesting decorating idea, or taking a moment to feel the fabric on the couch.
A little while ago my aunt's hubby walked in after work with a book he had seen and immediately thought of me: "How to choose a colour scheme". As soon as he dangled it infront of my face tantalisingly, I yelped with joy and nearly pissed my pants in anticpation.

Clearly, I just can't wait to pick up that stick with my little bundle of clothes attached to the end, throw it over my shoulder and head out into the sunset.
Goodbye squeaking bunkbed!
Away with the mould-ridden suitcase I've been living out of.
Away with the cute but extremely annoying little ~~monsters~~ cousins.
My space. My room. My TV remote.
My orgy(-ies) on MY couch. And you're all invited.

Free advice (donations always welcome though): After that debacle with a certain bathroom cabinet i was trying to assemble but thanks to my wayward hammering right now all I have to show for it is pile of unusable plywood, take it from me: DIY is waaay overrated.

Dear Diary

2005-09-30T15:30:00.000-01:00

So I’ve been a little scarce to say the least. Swamped with work, lack of interest, just one more project tossed aside and abandoned in that bottomless pit of Shit I Started. Before I took up blogging I used to IRC every chance I got. Then I took a dabble at turn-based multiplayer online games and fantasy football. For all of 4 days. That quilt I’ve been meaning to finish for the last 5 years, the corrections of my thesis I’m supposed to submit before I can graduate all just add to the list of things I started then faded off like that cheap dress you washed once. But in spite of my attention deficit disorder I’ve managed to keep a diary ever since I got my first one on my 9th birthday. It was one of those Hello Kitty diaries with a tiny key, which I used to update obsessively with mundane details like whether I used Colgate or Signal to brush my teeth that morning and always started with "Dear Diary, today I...". Keeping record of my thoughts/feelings must be ingrained in my DNA, because year in year out it is the one project that has persisted throughout my life. I think I need to be heard, even if it’s just me listening. So here I go with another pointless post. If I keep at it long enough, one day I might actually find out that I have a steered myself into a serious journalist oozing with literary talent…
Sure. And I’m also a fairy princess with untold beauty and grace.

Anyway, I was going to Blog about my new apartment but I’m feeling moody and very irritable today, compounded by an extreme case of sleep deprivation. I still manage my fake sweet smile, but if you listen closely you’ll hear the obscene retorts between clenched teeth. My facial expression says Oh Lawrence, you’re so funny but I’m thinking Fucking twat. That’s the lamest joke I’ve ever heard.
So, I'll save it for another day.

I knight you ma'am and dub thee Your Highness

2005-08-23T19:14:00.000-01:00

Long time no blog...

Theres been lots of stuff happenin but I just couldnt be bothered to talk about it right now.
But I will bother to talk about this:
We had a MAJOR virus attack since Wednesday. Affected all my company's offices across the entire sub saharan africa. Computers were freezing and shutting down all over the world. Well, my company's world at least.

BUT I.
YES I.
Single handedly located the culprit file...and killed it: libsys32.exe
Makes your PC shutdown after 60 secs. Well apparently the solution was found somewhere in Sweden 24 hrs after its first occurence and the patch disseminated throughout the company but since we are only a tiny subsidiary office doing nothing to annual global sales figures nobody bothered to inform us.
Anyway, still. Take NOTHING away from me.
I FOUND IT.
A raise would do nicely thank you very much.
A few extra zeroes for yet another nobel prize worthy performance.
I'm too good for this job.
Although i still can't sell for shit.

Ok.
I think i've blown my trumpet long enough.
I'll let someone else blow it now.

BTW: If your ISP is rr.com leave a message or fuck the fuck off.
Its either a bot or an overenthusiastic fan spamming my hit counter.

Random Brain Fart: Lion - lioness, heir - heiress, highness - highnessness?

All in a day’s work

2005-08-08T13:05:00.000-01:00

Ah, another exciting day at the office. Mondays. Don’t you just love them? They are the cherry on top of what was just starting to be a lovely weekend. Oh, how I look forward to Monday morning meetings. Just spent the last 2 hours in one of those delightful beginning of the week reunions with my wonderful co-workers. I just luuuv Mondays for the emails that greet you as you login. Truly a sight for sore eyes. You look though the list of 30 emails that somehow appeared in your inbox although it was weekend and people should have been at home making sweet sweet luv to their wives, wiping the snot off their baby's nose or being walked by the dog. But noo…they at work on Sunday ensuring that I get reminded of that proposal I promised to send as soon as I stepped into the office on Monday. But still, being remembered on a Sunday…even God doesn’t get that treatment these days…how special I must be.

And as soon as I manage to get though the pile of lovely weekend thoughts, I get a reminder that I have a teleconf with the nice gentleman from Indonesia that nobody can understand a word he says between his heavy accent and the crackling bad quality line. But we don’t care do we? We are just thrilled to hear his beautiful monotone voice spewing out a host of three letter acronyms…Did he say SPT? Or was it XBD? Who really cares anyway since neither one makes any sense to me…another reminder of why I should have taken that long overdue wonderfully entertaining 10-hour online course.

And of course what will a day at the office be without the guy STILL repairing/cleaning the building’s air-conditioning. Somehow in order to repair or clean or whatever he’s been doing for the last 2 wks he has to set it to 18 degrees. But as we all know, that’s the best way to get real work done– while your teeth ch-ch-chatter and your ni-ni-nipples harden. Oh, I’m lovin’ it.

And then there’s the really intelligent Tea Lady. I just love the way you can tell her things once and she immediately gets it. At least until the next day when you have to tell her again. Like please don’t leave the cups in the bathroom sink. I really don’t care much to get served in cup after someone washed their hands over it, even though I’m sure just after using the toilet they must have been impeccably clean.

It's that time of the year for our client’s budget planning against next year. I love the way they call me up at 11 and demand a budgetary quote before their meeting just after lunch. How did they know I hate to go for lunch? How could they possibly have known that I was taking a quick snooze waiting for my phone to ring so I could serve their every whim?

As I step out of my office to go to the client premises I am greeted with God's most precious gift to man - Water. After a week of non-stop rain, as a testament of the brilliant drainage planning by the city council, the streets of the city centre are now completely flooded ensuring that there is no need to make long and tiresome trips to the beach since you can just step out onto your front porch – or what’s left of it - and leisurely swim to your destination.

And finally, there’s always that colleague…that one “special” co-worker that leaves you in awe of your company’s hiring capabilities. How did they find such a rare gem because he's truly something special. Whenever you say something, he just stares at you with this empty look that surely must be hiding and infinite amount of wisdom behind that blank stare. But you have to admire the insight of the HR department to see the qualities that you simple labourer cannot. Like that course we did together overviewing the new SAP ordering system. He comes to your desk to ask how you save the changes and you tell him to click the big button with the green tick and “SAVE” written on it. You're left with a mouth gaping in amazement at the way his brain works. Surely he faltered because he saw hidden symbolisms behind the save button that you mere mortal cannot wrap your brain around. And I wonder what I did to be deserving of being employed amongst such sheer genius.

So you see, I really love my job. There are so many great things about a Monday morning at my office that I cherish and am eternally grateful for.

SSDD

2005-08-05T15:16:00.000-01:00

i’ve been feeling kinda down
for the last couple of days
and although I never frown
this is a depressing phase

i know i’m not the first
to go through a bad patch
yet I feel I must be cursed
but its nothing you can catch

there is nothing to live for
is the way it seems to me
life's a major freaking bore
with only work and TV

i know exactly what is wrong
but there’s nothing I can do
short of sucking on a bong
and popping a few pills too

Same Shit Different Day
is what I’m suffering from
life’s a million shades of grey
just a series of humdrum

i figured if I died
this feeling would go away
coz I’m really sick and tired
of going through this every day

so why not end it all
i ask myself today
why not walk to the edge and fall
the voice in my head seems to say

she’s never going to do it
you’re probably starting to think
true, my dad would have a fit
but I still need to see a shrink

because the way things are looking
even if I survive the week
soon of death I will be thinking
if my future remains this bleak

i’ve got lots of things to say
about why I feel so sad
but that’s a story for another day
coz this rhyming is fucking bad

the hole i'm in seems deep
but i hope that in the morning
i'll rouse up from my sleep
to a beautiful day a-dawning

2005-08-02T15:44:00.000-01:00

I just don't feel like blogging

Bride of Chucky

2005-07-29T14:35:00.000-01:00

Does marriage mean abandoning your friends? Does it mean giving up your independence and individuality? Is it a license for you to be a psycho bitch to those who care about you and your social life? And what's the deal with all the WE….We this, we that…how about just I….just one fucking I.
As in I went to the toilet.

One of my closest friends just got hitched.
And I’m not liking it.
Not one bit.

Suddenly its Phil this and Phil that and Phil doesn’t think we should go out tonight…

Well, PHIL:

I used to see her about twice a week when we would go on our lunch break together, or catch a movie or a drink or two after work. She’s been married a month but I haven’t seen her once since the blessed event. Understandably they may still be honeymooning and between the marathon sexcapades and working to pay the bills there isn’t much time for anything else.

I’m an understanding person and “I was having sex” is indeed a valid excuse for absolutely everything under the sun. It would be okay if that’s what is keeping her away. But it isn’t.

I called her up and suggested that after work we go sample the beverages on display at a new lounge I discovered the other day. She said she had to ask for permission (??!!!). Apparently Phil is a little grumpy today so when Phil saw the SMS she sent and called her back he didn’t mention anything about her request.
Her analysis was that: (a) Phil deliberately ignored it because he doesn’t want her to go out or (b) he forgot about it.

Oh, now it all makes sense! But of course. He forgot. Excellent excuse, especially considering how much of a strain it is on your vocal cords to BRING IT UP. How about option (c)- your husband is a fucking asshole.

I’m sitting here trying to understand why Phil’s bad mood is our problem. He can stay at home and be miserable while we spend an enjoyable evening together or he can tag along. But to prevent her from going out with an old friend on account of his foul mood is disgusting. But even worse is that fact that she lets herself get completely controlled like that. Her only defence for this is “uh, you know how it is when you’re married….”
No, I'm sorry but I don’t.
Maybe someone can enlighten me here, but I’m having a little trouble understanding this arrangement. Maybe these restrictions make her feel secure and loved. This scenario reminds me of those women who get repeatedly beaten up by their husbands but are so emotionally insecure that you couldn’t pay them to leave the bastards.
Life is fucked up.

Help!!!

2005-07-27T09:21:00.000-01:00

STRESSSSSSS!!
Fuck i'm stressed.
I'm on my third ciggie (that means going down a million stairs and outside into the rain and gale force winds) and third cup of black coffee.
My phone is ringing off the hook and i'm having double vision.
Our client has left everything till the last minute and now they are stressing me out big time to come up with a million reports, proposals and the rest of that crap. BEFORE 5pm. WTF?? !???
They are our only client. They call, we run.

But i got bigger ~~fish~~ whales to fry.
They owe us loads of money so we cant pay our debts and the tax officers are knocking on our door. In addition, big bloopers from our sister/mother company in South Africa means we owe customs millions of $$$ in fines because we didnt follow the rules of importation. if we dont pay by Friday they are SHUTTING US DOWN even though its SAs fault. We are a tiny subsidiary office, a few million in debt and we are going under.

Right now I'm just going to chill out at my desk and watch my nails grow for a while. Around me people are running around like headless chickens bumping into each other in the corridor as they talk to whoever on their phones trying to solve their respective problems. So in this kind of situation the best thing to do is blog, ride the tide and chase the fly my office.

Home Alone

2005-07-25T18:13:00.000-01:00

I woke up fresh and perky this morning after a weekend of blissful nothingness. My aunt, her hubby and their kids spent the weekend away (yay!) at her mom's. There was no "you really need to stop smoking" every single time I lit up, with me thinking why is this conversation so familiar? Oh yeah, that’s right, we had it 5 minutes ago. No having to sit though their new shared passion: kicking back and watching golf all weekend - BOooooring! They're only in their mid-thirties but they've obviously been slapped in the ass by the Old Married Couple Syndrome. Ah, nothing like a weekend left to my own devises. I just stayed in, did my long overdue laundry (i was already deep into my reserve of stringy and seam-less 20 year old undies), I preened, cut my nails and watched a gazillion DVDs.
I particularly enjoyed Hitch. 2 words for you: Eva Mendez.
Need I say more? YUMMAY! Especially in those glasses.

When you have your own place, personal space is something you take for granted. It's an alien feeling to have the remote all to myself and not have to bribe my little cousin to catch a glimpse of MTV Cribs before succumbing to the whining, biting and fighting to switch back for another 10 hours of Cartoon Network. Don't get me wrong - I love cartoons, especially those that make it onto the big screen (I've seen every single feature length cartoon ever made) I love Cow and Chicken, Rugrats etc but you can only have so much of Dexter and I'll definitely pass on the Powerpuff fluff or the Teletubbies.

Teletubbies!
Fuck, I cannot even begin to express into words how I feel about the Teletubbies. Every time I hear "uh-oh" I want to find gun, shove it in my mouth and quietly blow my brains out. Why oh why is the sun a baby's face?? I'm sorry, but that’s just weird and creepy: a disembodied baby’s head prancing around giggling at nothing. And just when you think the agony is over, that you have somehow managed to escape the literally mind numbing torture that no mortal man should have to endure without going totally PVS like poor old Terri: they say "buh-bye" like a billion times and you’re thinking please pretty please JUST FUCKING GO ALREADY! It is worse than fingernails on chalkboard. But the most irritating part is when they pick some utterly pointless task and do it over and over and over again like falling over and then getting up painfully slowly and going “uh-oh!” accompanied by a stupid cackling sound masquerading as a giggle. And I’ m thinking ‘oh no!” coz I know the next fat Tubby is going to do exactly the same thing and that’s when I run screaming out of the room clutching my head before lose all activity in my brain. In short, I really don't like the Teletubbies very much. Unless they’re beheaded, sliced, diced and incorporated into a nice soup a la Inky Dinky fucking Winky…

I’m glad my baby cousin has outgrown them at the ripe old age of 12 months. He cant talk yet but now that he can wobble about if you put on a show he doesn’t like and you fail to notice his deep disappointment in your poor judgement from the face he makes, he’ll let you know just how incredibly irked he is by getting right up and switching off the TV. Teletubbies gets the off treatment too. There's a God afterall.

Anyway.
This post wasn’t supposed to go down like this.
It was supposed to be about my weekend of serenity and tranquillity - listening to birds chirping, the beautiful earthy smell of wet soil after the rain on Saturday, about how much I like soccer and…But when my TeleTubbyPhobic alter ego takes over my body I can’t help it. Its all Dr Jekyll up in here now so I’ll go make some coffee, tar my lungs a little more then wear a straight jacket and try to think happy thoughts.

F-Art sucks

2005-07-21T00:30:00.000-01:00

I got coerced into attending an acquaintance’s friend’s dinner party last night. Normally I would decline such an invitation because – well because I’m a hapless loner who loves to grovel in self-pity eating ice cream in my bathtub and wondering why I have no real friends and then turn down any invitations to go out. No not really, getting hammered with near-strangers is one thing…trying to have a meaningful conversation at a dinner table amongst a group of friends who all know each other and have an assortment of insider jokes is a ridicule I refuse to endure. Again. But I suppose the lack of social contact outside the hair pulling from my “charming” cousins and the fact that I haven’t strayed from the work-home routine for 2 weeks now was enough to let me tempt fate.

To my relief this time it was different. Even though I barely know the person who invited me to the party not to mention the host, after a couple glasses of wine that was all academic because the host proclaimed mi casa su casa and everyone was hugging and kissing and the world was a jolly good place.

Somewhere along this orgy of love I discovered the host, Idan, is an artist. As in singer. And dancer, and songwriter/composer, and novelist, and painter. No wonder I have no talent - someone has them all. Or so thought. At one point he started singing and playing the piano about a painting of his. Singing about a painting? Who are these people??? Anyway, I didn’t say so at the time but his work, I mean ALL his work sucked. The songs, the paintings, the chapter of his novel I read, I didn’t get an opportunity to sample his dancing but maybe that is for the best because it probably sucked worse than his other ”talents”.

He described his paintings as “abstract expressionism”. A kind of abstract art form which from all indications is synonymous with “I don’t have the slightest vestige of talent but kindly sponsor my doodles”. Abstract art is something that has always intrigued me. Sometimes you can really appreciate the textures, the palette, the intersecting patterns and you can even sense the emotion the artist is trying to evoke in you as you clear you mind and let the painting envelope your consciousness…but a lot of the time however it just looks like a kindergarden kid was left alone with paint in the dark. If that kid scratch was placed in a gallery under some famous name, suddenly all kinds of meaning and symbolisms would be extracted from the squiggles. Idan’s art was even worse because it looked like he’d sucked some paint into a straw then projected it onto a canvas using air blow out from his nostril. Absolutely no discernable method in his madness. Or perhaps he's actually a paying member of the art movement characterised by spewing paint from a tube coming out of your butt. I think it is called fart. F-Art. Or at least, it should be.

Anyway, the point of all this is I think I may have found my calling. My one elusive talent. I’m harbouring a lingering suspicion that I'm a really good abstract artist yet to be discovered. How hard could it be? If you watched the movie Mona Lisa smile, it featured a huge canvas of seemingly randomly splashed paint (called “Lavender Mist”?) which Julia Roberts made the students “consider”. I reckon if I apply myself (something my grade school teachers used to say: “Lyn is a highly intelligent little girl, only if she would apply herself…”) I could come up with something similar and guarantee myself a nice little handprint on the Artists’ version of Hollywood Boulevard’s Starwalk.

Well, I applied myself alright. Picasso has nothing on me. Neither does ...whatyoumacallhim... the other artist dude. Before I showcase my magnum opus, my masterpiece that will wow the crowds and send the world into a mad frenzy just to touch me...No. Just to even live vicariously from a distance in envy of those fortunate enough to touch me, before I expose my greatness in plain sight for all the world to witness, I must warn you, it is not for simple minds. If you find that you don’t like it - You Are An Uncultured Individual With No Taste.

Without further ado. world, I present to you “Blogoshere”:

It is the embodiment of a mindless materialistic and bureaucratic society consisting of way too many bloggers with way too much time on their hands talking way too much crap. Notice how all the colours of the spectrum bounce off the canvas creating White and giving it a semblance of emptiness. This represents the possibility of being surrounded with all these blogging people and yet, being completely alone. Take a moment to contemplate the intricate detail showcased in this particular Work of Art. Allow it to capture your imagination and take you where it may.

For a nominal fee, I will provide autographed copies.
With a little pecuniary compensation, I may even be tempted to pose for a photograph.

Slacking off

2005-07-20T18:30:00.000-01:00

I'm slacking off here big time.
How do people do it?
BLOG EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I've got shit to say but no time to say it.
Yet some people do this consistently, every single day for years with only the occasional sick leave.

Anyway.
I haven't been out in weeks.
I mean out out.
I'm even experiencing withdrawal symtoms now.
I don't think my body can handle these unprecedented levels of alcohol.
They havent been so low since i got off the bottle.
I think that's the cause of this rash on my hand.
so.....
I'm off to fix my situation.

This is ridiculous!

2005-07-15T18:02:00.000-01:00

My boss just walked into my office and demanded that "we" (meaning me) go over some extremely complicated proposal he would like for "us" (still only me) to formulate and submit today. This is for a huge deal we are trying to secure....Its 5:30pm ON FRIDAY. Just after I miraculously survived a 4 hour seminar from hell, with an instructor that must have been speaking in tongues for all I heard. Please tell me, do i have SLAVE DRIVER on my face? No? Look closely, because there is no other explanation for this insanity.

I looked like i was going to fall off my chair and start spewing out my lunch with deadly precision onto his neatly parted thining hair so he's agreed to meet on Monday.
Why thank you kind sir.
Your kindness knows no bounds.
Jerk.

Now my Firewall is clearly deadset on ensuring that when i go online, I stay within the confines of sleep inducing coporate propaganda by denying me access to this website which according to them contains "Sexual Materials or Gruesome Content". I'm willing to bet my grandma's left lung it doesn't. I think the content filter guy over at my company HQ had a very traumatic childhood... probably an abusive past compounded by a severe oidipus complex....to him, everything is porn.

Yanked out of the closet

2005-07-14T11:48:00.000-01:00

I've exposed my dirty laundry before. Online, in virtual obscurity, is one thing, but I can’t think of any friends who know more than 2 of my confessions and definitely no family. Over the last 4 months, living with my aunt has made us bosom buddies – the one person I can talk to about anything. Well, almost anything. She makes me want to spill my guts and reveal all the skeletons and putrefying corpses I’m hiding in my closet. I suppose this can be attributed to the fact that in our frequent midnight chitchats she has discovered many of my eccentricities and has already concluded I'm a regular freakazoid, the unfortunate offspring of a Martian family scarred by generations of inbreeding.

Last night we were discussing why I have such a negative attitude towards marriage. So I thought, well, at this juncture nothing I said would make her lift an eyebrow in the slightest bit of surprise or concern. After much ado, multiple delay tactics, furious blushing and dramatizing to soapyficular proportions, I decided to reveal that - ta da dum da dum - I dig chicks. And by that I don’t mean the young edible variety. Wait, double entendre - when I think about it now that’s exactly what I mean. As I anticipated and to my relief, there was no rolling around on the floor in distress, no calling the extended family for an intense prayer session involving the local exorcist, but instead a mere "uh huh". *Pause*. *Shrug*. "Don't worry, I already knew".
"What!?! You knew? How? When? What?!?!?!?!?. Who else knows?" was my reaction. I was pretty confident she would not go stark raving psychotic on my ass but I was still a little stunned that she had me so figured out.

Perhaps it’s because she knows me extremely well. Perhaps I'm one those obvious dykes - you know, a walking, talking compilation of lesbo clichés.
But one thing's for sure though:
It’s great to have it out.
It’s great to be out.
Even if only to one person.

*****************

Random Unrelated Question:
Does anyone else have something happen as you go about your daily life and immediately start thinking of blogging about it?

ZZZZZzzzzzzz

2005-07-11T18:02:00.000-01:00

I have this irrepressible urge to go out and actively seek and destroy the asswipe who invented the alarm clock. If he's dead, my wrath will be passed on to his children and their children's children ad infinitum.

At the moment of his brainwave he didn't realise he would be irreversibly ruining perfectly decent excuses for coming to work late: “The dog was supposed to lick me awake and he didn’t! Blame the dog.” or "What? It was raining! How could I wake up when it was raining!".

This morning, like every morning, my extremely rude awakening consisted of an earpopping screeching alarm sound resulting in an involuntary groan interjected by a few choice words and a flying object now a pile of unrecognizable grit on the floor, all serving as a daily reminder of why I have “sleep early, dumbass” on my To Do lists.

I need 6 full hours of sleep to operate in any capacity remotely qualifying as normal. A minute less and I'm a zombie ready to star in a Michael Jackson thriller remake or just one hell of a Bitch. Well, more of a bitch than usual anyway.

Waking me up before my daily sleep quota is up is a full time job not for the fainthearted (cue in Mission Impossible soundtrack). I've slept through my bro sneaking onto the top bunk and falling off when he was a little kid and through the commotion as he was rushed to the hospital; I've slept through my Aunt’s room burning down, the fire brigade rushing in and the only reason I realised any of it happened was because I got accidentally splashed with water from the hose as I was whisked out of the house hanging off someone's shoulder still fast asleep; I've slept through fire drills at university although the fire alarm was just outside my dorm room. I nearly got KICKED out of my forth year for excessive bunking.

If I know I'm going to get less than 6 hours my bedtime routine involves setting my Once Off phone alarm, my Recurring phone alarm, my radio alarm clock and depending on how late it is, I sleep in front of the TV with the TV on. Sometimes that makes me sleep a little lighter. Usually though, I still manage to turn off everyone one of the alarms with frightening dexterity with my eyes barely open. I have tried selotaping the ‘off’ button on my alarm clock, but clearly that was just plain dumb. It reminds me off my fat friend who used to selotape the chips in the kitchen she shared with her roommate to discourage herself from pigging out on her roommate's goodies. Not much good that did her.

I've slept on a hard cold tiled floor thinking that would help me sleep lighter when I'm desperate not to be late for something, although I crept in from the clubs at 3 am. All I get for my troubles is a back pain from hell in the morning and still find out someone had turned off the alarm while I was sleeping. And even though I was alone in the house, I could swear it wasnt me.

Ideally I need 6 hours. After 6 hours a single frighteningly loud, irritating and unreachable - without getting out of bed - alarm clock will do the job. It takes about 8 hrs for me to wake up without any obvious external influences.

I want to have a full and active social life, going to bed at whatever hour it pleases me and waking up as bright and bushy tailed as the people I go out with. I'm sick and tired of my perpetual tardiness. I'm fed up of responding to "you look so tired" in the morning.

So, I’ve decided I’m getting my comatose ass professionally checked out. But I have a feeling the verdict will be: "You just need to make sure you get enough sleep".
No shit. Gimme my money back.

ROFL!

2005-07-08T09:58:00.000-01:00

Stumbled across This Blog. This guy is so funny he put me in stitches. Shame it rarely gets updated, but its worth a read.

Came late to work today, so I have to pretend to be busy for at least another 30 minutes. Trying to perfect my pensive pose...I'm certainly deserving of an Oscar right about now.

Blah blah blah the sequel

2005-07-06T17:15:00.000-01:00

I’m going through a dry spell here. My life is so dull right now, there’s absolutely NOTHING to blog about. I’ll post anyway, but I cannot guarantee your sanity by the time you are done with this mind numbing brain fart. Warning: Reading this post may lead to foaming at the mouth and/or reddened swollen eyes with throbbing veins in prominence, out of complete and utter boredom. Proceed at your own risk.

I had croissants and a yogi sip (drinkable yoghurt) for lunch today.
Tasted real yummy. But my tummy is now acting funny. I feel so crummy. It had probably expired on me. I'm such a dummy. I think I need my mummy.

My baby cousin took his first steps yesterday. They’ll be his last for a while. Fell flat on his face and lost a quarter of his teeth. Well, one tooth - he only had four.

Oooh ooh ooh since we are suing for fun: the USA doesn't want to sign the Kyoto protocol YET is probably responsible for 1/4 of the world's greenhouse gas emmisions. They are messing with MY ozone layer, hence making my scorching hot shithole town a lot hotter than usual. I want ONE TRILLION BILLION dollars in compensation thank you very much (clearly, unlike the crazy woman in the article, I couldn't careless about astrology or the lining of the planets or the rest of that New Age mumbo jumbo).

That time of the month again. The onset of PMS draweth nigh.
I wanna go to bed and wake up a guy. Minus the hair in every orifice, the adams apple, the morning stiffy, the responsibilities, the shaving every morning, the attention span of a goldfish, the one-track mind.....hmm....on second thoughts: I think I'll just stay a girl. I just wish that time of the month didnt have to come every single fucking month.

Blah blah blah

2005-07-04T11:51:00.000-01:00

I'm in the market for new friends.
I'm not picky. All I’m looking for is someone who knows how to have a great time and most importantly, someone who can afford to take me out to dinner. I don’t mean an extravagant upmarket restaurant with a different wine and fork and knife for every food group, just a regular steak and chips supper washed down with a can of coke. I'm sick and tired of hanging around with a bunch of broke-ass douche bags just cluttering up the surface of the earth.

This weekend a new friend of mine (oozing potential for being more than just friends) invited me over to her town about 3 hrs drive away. After early evening pre-drinks, her friends and I hit the clubs to let loose on the dance floor. After about 10 mins I noticed everyone was still lounging around like a bunch of old ladies so I got a drink order from everyone to get the damn party started already. I must be suffering from a major culture gap because I was under the impression that we were going to 'go Dutch' and split the bill six ways. However, unbeknownst to me, in these parts of the world it seems the asker assumes responsibility for the drinks because when it was time to pay everyone just sorta stared at me with this blank look that left me no doubt that I was being ditched with the whole bill. Four able-bodied guys in the mix and the out-of-town girl is left to deal with the results of their debauchery. It seems to me chivalry is lost and the world has gone to hell since the emancipation of women. At the very least a warning would have been nice. Good thing I had a wad of cash or we'd have been bussing tables for the rest of the evening.

So that’s why I'm looking for new friends. I'm ridding myself of leeching freeloaders and raising my standards. At the risk of sounding shallow (which is probably justified): on your application just write your name, your poison and your net worth. Hell, don’t even bother with formalities like your name. With the fun we'll be having I'll be too zoned out to remember it, so irrespective of your gender, you'll just have to answer to George.

Friday Randomness

2005-07-01T12:27:00.000-01:00

Google-Search-Term-Leading-to-this-Blog of the Day:

"Cameroonian pu$$ies"

Hmm.

Very disturbing if thats what my blog has been reduced to.
Note the use of dollar signs to prevent further misrepresentation.

***********
I tried to set up my voicemail today.
I dialled 123, spent 5 minutes on hold, then finally got a REAL person on the line.
Total waste of a chunk of my life.
"I'm sorry, that service is not currently available, but please try again in 2 months".
2 months????????? Like...for real?!?!
I had this idea that the 3rd world sucked, but boy was I clueless of just how much.

(Context: Lived in Geneva for the larger part of my life, then lived in SA which is one of the better 3rd world nations and I'm now in Cameroon - having major adjustment issues here!)

I'm not asking for 3G or WAP or even GPRS, just , you know, your regular run-of-the-mill mail retrieval system. "Hi, please leave a message at the beep" type thing. But nooooo - that's just way too high tech for these guys.

*******
But its Friday. No room for bitching and wining about things you cannot change. The weekend beckons - filled with promise and opportunities for many an indiscretion. And once again I'm faced with the remote possiblity that as I leave the office this afternoon, this may just be the weekend I win the lottery and never have to come back.
Fat chance.
Especially since I don't play.

Moi

2005-06-29T16:18:00.000-01:00

This is me

AND

I guess everyone does now.

I might as well just put up my phone number and address while i'm at it.

Don't ask me what was going on with my hair becuase I havent got a clue.

Music is the food of love

2005-06-28T13:47:00.000-01:00

I cant believe i just typed out that title. Oouch. It makes me wince. Who says shit like that in this day age. Well, me, apparently. Wait...or was it 'the spice of life'?

Anyway, had a point so I'll get to it.

Music is so beautiful. I’m incredibly inspired right now and I don’t inspire easily. It gives you goosebumps, it makes you want to scream, it makes you want to laugh and it can make you dissolve into a pool of tears. It sounds better than the taste of chocolate ice cream, than the feel of satin sheets against your naked skin, than the smell of spring. What can I say; it’s just fucking beautiful. If love feels like how this song sounds right now I can understand why people lose their minds and get their brain washed, tumbled dried and handed back to them by the love of their lives.

I’ve been listening to a couple U2 and Cranberries songs through my new headphones and paying special attention to the harmonies. I can’t sing for shit, so I’m awestruck when melodies just come together and make me lose control of the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

But I’ll have you know I’m not completely without talent. I can play Happy Birthday with one finger on a toy keyboard and almost sing it too, if I dare say so myself.

I also happen to be an extremely fickle person. Tomorrow I’ll read this post and wonder what the fuck I’ve been smoking because these songs might suddenly seem like quintessential acoustic mediocrity. Or even worse, like long fingernails against a chalkboard. I s'pose its different strokes for different folks. Or in my case, different smokes.

The songs I’ve currently got on repeat:

U2 – Walk On
Cranberries – Empty
U2 – In a little while
Linkin Park - Breaking the habit

Its rather diverse, but if you hate them - get yourself checked out. Freak.

Hi

2005-06-27T10:38:00.001-01:00

Yet Another Monday.
Mondays. They keep on comin’, don’t they? Week after week. What’s up with that?

Stockholm now seems like a distant memory even though my luggage only actually appeared yesterday. Air France has this tendency of losing my luggage every single time. You’d think it was deliberate. I say burn ‘em down. Let them accidentally navigate themselves into the Eiffel Tower for all I care. South African Airways is the only way to fly: Once you go SAA, you’ll go no other way. Right. Clearly no one should trust me with their advertising campaign. Moving on…

Me: Sweden was nice.
Friend: Nice??? Did you say NICE??? Tea is nice! Summer is nice! The old lady down the street is nice! Sweden? Fantabulastic!
Me: Uh, ok. If you say so.

Truth be told it was just an average trip. Nice to get away from the office, meet new people and visit a new city, but I wouldn’t want to live there. Its a little too dull for me. Just not enough action, and ya'll know I’m all about the action! Perhaps I was just hanging out in the wrong places or the visit was too short to really get the most of what the city has to offer since I stayed in within the confines of my hotel half the time, ordering room service and Pay TV. I innocently opted to actually pay for quality TV just to get assaulted with an array of XXX hetero porn (lets see what kind of Google hits I get now). Porn holds my attention for about 5 minutes and then it gets old, and frankly just plain gross. But they just HAD to devote three of the 7 Pay TV channels to it, didn’t they. Because obviously everyone who comes to that hotel is just dying to have sex and/or jerk off the whole the freaking day.

In between the 8-5 working hours, I managed to sneak in some sightseeing, good dining and ...well, a little hottie-ogling. There are actually tons of dark heads in Sweden. Who knew? Strangely enough, the object of my affection was Christine, my cute Italian-American colleague from New Jersey, not a hot Swedish blonde thing. Also, I quickly figured out it's a misconception that everyone in Sweden is blonde and hot because there are just as many darkheads and..um...well, a few unsightly individuals as well. I guess the difference is the Swedish blondes are extremely pale with almost-white eyebrows and lashes. Yeah I noticed. I was looking.

Nothing extraordinary happened though. Just did normal touristy stuff, didn't go to any girls only bars (couldn’t find any), I met some interesting people, went on a ferry down the river/lake thingy, went to a mini amusement park (will I ever outgrow those rides?), had a picnic with colleagues from different parts of the globe and visited my company HQ which happens to be in Sweden (there’s a special prize for anyone who can guess which well known company I work for).

The night before I left, my very lastest night in Sweden, we decided to go and spend all our leftover money on a sumptuous dinner a la Swedish. I think it was the most expensive restaurant in the entire country. You know the kind where they plop half a teaspoon of icecream in the centre of a large plate, sprinkle and squirt stuff all over the place and call it dessert, then charge you exorbitant prices for it. And all you're thinking is "You're kidding, right? I need binoculars just to see the food!"Probably like 100 Kronors (9 Euros) per square cm. Maybe it was special designer ice cream made from unicorn milk. Anyhow, credit to them, the entire 3 course meal was so delicious I was tempted to eat up my fork just to ensure i get every last drop.

We were like the United Nations at that dinner table: Hot New Jersey Girl, Simon from Dublin, Irwan from Indonesia, Fari from Nigeria etc etc... Spent time fondly arguing what Swedish sounded like and finally agreed it was a cross between German and Korean. The waitress was amazing, filling up our glasses as soon as we set it down. Having been a waitress myself once upon a time, i fully appreciate good service. So naturally, being the generous crowd we are, we tipped her like 30%. Then we were all kind of astounded to discover that if you add 30% on a very large bill you get a very VERY large bill.

I took lots of pictures with someone else’s Camera because I left mine at home. He promised to email them to me. He'd better or else... Simon - I know your name. And I know where you live. I'm watching you man. Like a hawk.

The weather was good though, not hot, but not freezing. Was semi-dark (never completely dark, I thought that was totally weird) - dusklike between 11pm- 2am before the sun started coming out again.

Nice experience though. Fun. Different. Interesting. And one more city I can check off my list. Unfortunately it was never on it.

*sigh*
I guess its back to work as usual then.

Checking in

2005-06-16T12:04:00.000-01:00

You may (or not) have noticed I've been kinda scarce lately.
That's because I've been out of my office the whole bloody week.

I spent it traipsing across the country, doing meetings and stuff and feeling grossly inadequate. I wouldn't even know where to start recapping, or how to accurately describe the weirdness that was last week. So lets just say it involved strange little village towns, a flooded sub-standard motel room and picking up what was left of my ego and self esteem after tripping over some cables during a presentation.

How on earth did I get this job? No seriously. I guess the real question is: How the fuck do I keep it???? In between shuffling my feet and picking my nose with this blank stare on my face that says "What? who, me? you were talking to me??" its a miracle i still come in day after day. I guess i must be doing something right. Or maybe i just know lots of people in high places.

Two years ago I would've rolled around pissing myself laughing at the idea of being remotely involved in Sales in any capacity whatsoever, let alone a manager. On my best day I couldn't sell water for 10 cents to rich tourists stranded in the Sahara. At what I get paid I'm supposed to be at the cutting edge of my trade. HA! Right...

Anyhow, it'll be another week before i post anything since I'm off to Sweden tomorrow. I could never pass up on yet another opportunity to suck at my job. Oh, and don't forget about the babes!...all the gorgeous hottylicious Swedish babes!

Got loads of shit to do before I leave so i gotta get cracking...

Ta ta for now.
That’s something my MSc supervisor used to say.
God, the dude is soooo gay. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Till next week Fri…

Life in the mad house

2005-06-08T10:15:00.000-01:00

My Auntie dearest must have been suffering from temporary insanity when in a moment of weakness she agreed (!?!?!) to have every single cousin, second cousin, and cousin's friend we know (or don't know) come spend a week or two with us.

This means I’m now sardined with 11 kids between the ages of 10 months and 14 years in a tiny three-bedroom apartment (four really, but one is used as a storeroom). There is always someone in the fridge and grocery shopping is a joke coz these kids throw down (eat) like there's no tomorrow. 8 baguettes, 6 litres of milk, 20 eggs. Every. Goddamned. Day.
And that’s just breakfast.

The crying, the biting, the fighting, the screeching - my ears have threatened to find a new body. So I get home from work, change into something more comfortable and just go loiter at a friend's till I know the little boogers are snoring in their beds. Yesterday, I came back after 11 and 10 of them were still awake, still running about and still fucking screeching.

The worst part about my home experience, the thing that makes me want to find a nice spot to bang my head repeatedly - is masturbating. I sleep on the bottom bunk in the smallest room. The top bunk, which is usually empty, is now occupied by 3 little hoodlums. That bunk creaks like crazy. And it doesn’t help that the 3 kids on the top bunk move about like they're wrestling with a giant croc. It’s the older kids that are up there. I think they'll know orgasmic sounds when they hear it. So there I was, trying to take care of ma bizniz, with kids whispering and giggling on top of me and a squeaking bunk.

They eventually fell asleep, I found a position that almost stopped the squeaking, my fingers found their way down there and....ahhh, life was as it should be.

They'd better go away come weekend otherwise the cops would have to come scour the area in search of kid-sized body parts.

Sex! I need more sex!!
But I'll settle for quiet alone time with myself and maybe a toy or two.
Bottom line - I think I need to move out.
Right fucking now.

Yay sweden!

2005-06-07T11:37:00.000-01:00

I'll skip over my completely mediocre weekend which involved two guys trying to feel me up, at the same time I might add, no girl-on-girl (girl-on-me) action and a cat-sized rat (i said i wont go there).

Anywayz, last nite i rediscovered a shooter i havent had since my varsity (college for the Americans among you) days appropriately named "Women's Revenge".
Its Amerula (Irish Cream) and some kind of lemonadey thing. Totally curdles in your mouth, a bit like how a blow job would taste. It makes you think eeeww/yum/puke! all at the same time.

Moving on to this morning: I just learnt I'm going to Stockholm on a week long business trip next week Friday. My very first business trip. Sweeeeeet! Its going to be so cool just to repeat it...
"So you wanna hang out on Friday?"
"Love to but i cant"
"Cmon why not, It'll be fun!"
"I know, but I'll be in Sweden on a business trip"
Then i'd heave a huge sigh like I've so had it with these business trips.

heehee. I'm so lame.

Listening to U2 - Walk On
I'm really feeling U2 this morning. They've never sounded better.
I'm so unstressed. It's a strange but totally amazing feeling.
I'm happy. Can you tell?
You'd think i got laid.

TGIF

2005-06-03T19:10:00.000-01:00

TGIF - Thank God Its Friday
Whoopiedoop!!!
In my private universe, thinking is illegal on Fridays (and Mondays and Tuesdays and....)
So brace yourself for some mindless banter...

*********
What mischief will I get myself into this weekend?
The "getting wasted and wondering how i made it into my bed" routine is so old.
I think I'll stay in this weekend to contemplate my sins.
Hahahaha. Right.

*********
Gosh I could really use broadband at home.
Heck, I'd settle for narrowband even.
Any kind of band has got to be better than no band.

*********
I've got this sneaking suspicion someone in my office is reading this blog.
I'm getting hits from within this building.
Michel - If its you reading this I COMMAND YOU TO STOP THIS INSTANT! OR ELSE...
or else what??
Darn.
TGIF. This Girl Is Fucked.
If you read yesterday's post, you'd realise I dont mean literally.
What to do. My blogging is severly compromised.
If this is my last post, you know why:
I was fired, overdosed on shame or forced my head through a paper shredder.

Nah, but Michel is cool.
I'd rather he (YOU, yes You, you sneaky eavesdropping fuck!) didnt read it, but if someone in my office had to, i'd rather it was him.

*********
I gotta blog what happened this afternoon.
It was the weirdest thing.
Some of these people I work with are so fucking thick it makes me weep. ( erm, not you michel)
I'm the Sales Manager in company A.
I call up this woman who is the procurement person in company B. I ask her if I can send a driver to come pick up the Purchase Order for all she shit she promised to buy.
She says she's in a meeting now.
I say, well is it ready for collection? She says no.
I say no problem since its Friday 5pm anyway we'll talk more on monday. She says ok.
I say fine, bye.

Then i realise her accent was sounding different today. It was the way she said 'bye'. It sounded like 'buoy'. So I look at my phone and realise I dialled the wrong number and the lady i spoke to was actually this French chick in another department in company B.

So in short, I had just had a conversation with , well basically, someone's ass.
I mean, that must be it.
How else do you explain me having this, in my opinion, meaningful discussion with someone who doesnt having a friggin clue of what im going on about??
I could have said: you look like shit
her answer? yes
wanna have phone sex? ok
want me fuck off now? no

I told everyone in my office.
The guys were all in stitches for laughing their ass off.

Colleague 1: Well, she's French
Colleague 2: No, she's retarded
Colleague 1: That's what i said

*************
Righty Ho. Let me go get a life.
Laterz.

Unfortunately, the answer is no

2005-06-02T16:37:00.000-01:00

Dibs.
Interesting character that one.

As it turns out, she knows i have the hots for her and goes to great lengths to let me know that she knows:
the way she licks off the wine rolling down the side of her glass
the way she holds my gaze till i look away
the way she touches my thigh ever so gently when she's talking
the way she giggles and says "oh stop it" when i say something silly

god, what a tease.
or perhaps its just that my senses are so heightened when i'm with her

i think she is gay-curious.
and i was happy to indulge her
so...
i walked her home
we parked in front of the tv in the dark to sober up
then i kissed her.
the kind of kiss apparently made famous by the French.

unless it was only a very nice dream, i believe she kissed me back

still, somehow i ended up in my own bed.
alone.
I knew I should have shoved more of the Bailey's/white wine/that_weird_green_stuff down her throat.

so, i have nothing left to do but resort to cheesy cliches:
i may have lost the battle, but not the war.
even though it was only one little step for me, it was one giant step for my kind.

one of these days I'll get her

just for messing with my mind.

Consumerism

2005-06-01T18:15:00.000-01:00

Today's title.
Is that even a real word?
Spell Checker doesn't think so.
but what does Spell Checker know anyway
dammit IS a word, dammit!

Anywayz...i was going somewhere with this.
Im pretty sure I had a point when i started out this post.
A clear objective.
Nah, who am i kidding.
I didnt. Do i ever.
I feel like Ellen the Forgetful Fish in Finding Nemo...what was her name again?
You know the part....in the beginning, when she's showing Nemo's dad which way he went when she starts running away coz she thinks he's stalking her....

Consumerism...
Where was i headed with this?

Clearly I'm too lazy to actually write anything that makes sense today so.... I swiped this off these guys. (Please, please don't sue me!!! )

Some 'interesting' yet REAL consumer labels:
Does that have anything to do with consumerism? Do I even care?

On a Sears hairdryer: Do not use while sleeping.
On a bag of Fritos: You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside. (The shoplifter special.)
On a bar of Dial soap: Directions: Use like regular soap.
On a Swann frozen dinners: Serving suggestion: Defrost. (But it's just a suggestion.)
On Tesco's tiramisu dessert (printed on the bottom of box): Do not turn upside-down.
On Marks & Spencer bread pudding: Product will be hot after heating.
On packaging for a Rowenta iron: Do not iron clothes on body.
On Boot's children's cough medicine: "Do not drive a car or operate machinery after taking this medication."
On Nytol sleep aid: Warning: May cause drowsiness.
On most brands of Christmas lights: "For indoor or outdoor use only." (As opposed to what?)
On a Japanese food processor: Not to be used for the other use. (I gotta admit, I'm curious.)
On Sainsbury's peanuts: "Warning: contains nuts."
On an American Airlines packet of peanuts: "Instructions: Open packet, eat nuts."

Thank god for warning labels. Where would we be without 'em?

***************
BTW, I'm goin out with a certain Debbie aka Dibs¹ 2nite.
She's seeing someone.
a guy.
who cares
I'm frisky and I'm on the prowl.
Grrrrrrr

She WILL put out.

^{1. We call her Dibs coz everyone has dibs on her}.

Its going to be a good week dammit!

2005-05-30T09:12:00.000-01:00

It's Monday morning.
I really don't need a reason to rant.
The mere fact that it's Monday is reason enough.
Frankly, Monday mornings make me so cranky I could rant forever about the colour of the butterfly that fluttered in through my office window. I'm partial to blue butterflies so god forbid a yellow butterfly venture anywhere into the periphery of my vision.

I woke up this morning and decided that HAD to change.
Yep, even if it killed me, this was going to be best goddamned week I've ever had.
I was going to dig deep, very VERY deep, and pull out my confident, positive, go-getter, the-world-is-my-oyster attitude. I thought maybe, just maybe if for once I woke up early (instead of the rushed "I'm late!" Monday routine), had a 30 minute power session at the gym before work it might help reinforce my newly found invincibility and joi de vivre.

Usually nothing short of a sudden fit of madness would make me think it would be a good idea to visit the gym at 6:00 in the morning. This is not a decision I would normally make without the help of several banned substances + illegal quantities of caffeine. I think the point where I lost touch with my faculties was when I noticed my belly button, which has always been an Innie anyway, had now completely vanished behind the numerous overlapping rolls of flab.

So I dug up my gym gear, jumped into a taxi and headed straight for the Fitness Centre.
Yeah, the naming here was just genius. I wonder how long it took them to come up with that. Everything was going according to plan until, in my newly found fitness frenzy and "I believe I can fly" attitude, I literally leapt out of the taxi leaving my new company-given, state-of-the-art, Cell Phone Meets Palm Top behind. As I was about to shut the door I noticed the phone lying there on the back seat. The taxi guy was already starting to drive off so I told him to hold on because I'd left my phone behind. Probably the dumbest thing I'll ever do, because as soon as he heard me and had a glimpse of what was lying back there, he just sped off!
With the door STILL HANGING HALF OPEN.
I kid you not.
WTF?
What is wrong with these people?
Am I the last (semi-) decent person on the planet?
Today I sure as hell believe in Karma coz for what he did, the bastard has got to bleed.

So, its Monday morning and a genuinely rant-worthy thing has actually happened to me.
normally I would take this unfortunate mishap and let it traumatise me for life.
On any other Monday it would envelope me and weigh me down for the rest of the year.
But guess what.
Not this Monday.
It happened and its over.
I won't make a meal out of this.
For once, I'm going to move swiftly along.
Nothing can veer me off this natural high I'm on.

This is going to be a jolly good week.
I insist.

Ah, got to go.
My boss just walked in with one mean look on his face.
But I don't mind coz he's looking devilishly handsome today.

Hunger?

2005-05-26T10:58:00.000-01:00

Ok, I'm back.
It helped.
I still feel dazed and confused though.

Maybe I just needed to eat something afterall.

One mother of a craving

2005-05-26T10:36:00.000-01:00

I can't focus.
But I'm not shaking.
Yet.
And I'm sure as hell not thinking.
I can almost smell it.
That sweet sweeeeeet taste of tar and nitric acid lightly tossed in a cauldrum and glued onto my lungs.
Ahhhh.
Why do i taunt myself so.

Then the tea lady shows up with strong filter coffee.
Sans milk, sans sugar, sans nothing.
Just me, a black-ass coffee and one mother of a craving.
I bet she can tell I'm about to scrape some wood shavings off my desk, roll up all my Post-Its and light up right here and now.
Hey, don't look at me bitch...YOU brought me the bloody coffee.
And we all know what black coffee does to a craving.
You did it on purpose you f*$#%(* c*#$. I'll get you for this in the dark of the night when you and your brood are sleeping. I'll use nail clippers to dig out all your internal organs, you sorry excuse for a human. I swear I will.

No, i'm not stressed.
What? I'm not!

But I will resist.
I nearly fainted at the gym yesterday because my lungs couldnt possibly have a single spot of pink left on them.
We had just done 20 mins of stretching and cardio when i realised that it was actually a Taebo class and that was just the warm-up.
Needless to say, I promply fainted.

But I'm determined.
I said I will resist.

Yes. I will.
I wont light up.
Noooo.
Cant have that.
Nopey nopes.
Stop it evil mindfuck, I wont give in
You want me to say please?
Ok Fine. Please stop it.
STOP IT!!!
Please?
No?

Fukkit.
I'm lighting up man.

100 Things

2005-05-24T11:41:00.000-01:00

I'm 26
I think I'm weird
Those who know me tend to agree
I’m a dare devil
You name it; I’ve done it or would do it
I still keep a diary
Even though its hardly ever updated
I’ve thought of ending my life
But I could never go through with it
It would shatter my dad
That is probably my only selfless thought
I love sex with women
Although I have never been in love with anyone
I’ve only ever been in one relationship
With a guy
We hardly ever saw each other
I lost my virginity at 19
To him
Hated it
So I abstained for another 2.5 years
I’m a couch potato
I’m pathologically unable to keep in touch
But I still insist on getting pen pals
They only last about 3 weeks
24 Hour Party is the worst (docu-)movie ever
It just edges out Muholland Drive on suck-points
I used to read a lot of novels
And live in chat rooms
Till I got a real job
I’ve always been the best in all my math classes
I have a Masters degree in Computer Science
I’ll swap it for your MBA
I’m Cameroonian
I grew up in Europe and South Africa
My accent sounds 55% South African, 15% American, 15% Cameroonian and 15% MyVeryOwnEuropeanCocktail
Backpacking is overrated
When you are alone and on a shoestring budget
I know several card tricks
Little kids love it. Big kids (adults) do too
I think cats are oversized rodents
I’m a dog person. Can you tell?
But its too much of a hassle to keep one
I’m battling with bulimia
Its sort of under control
I cant express myself as well as I would like to
It frustrates me to no end
I will hash out an argument mentally
Long after the argument is over
I wish I was taller
A lot taller
I rarely swear when I talk
But I cant help myself when I diarize
I wish racists would just roll over and die
Along with all their victims walking around with a huge chip on their shoulder
I hate bananas
But not as much as I hate mayo
Long story
I can live off cornflakes
I have (and earned) a drivers license
But lack of practice means I still can’t drive
I’m a smoker
Make that chain smoker
I still keep it a secret from my Daddy
I love the idea of having twins
Just the idea
I’m a loner
Probably because I’m self-absorbed
Its my way or go away
I hate religion
I feel like I’m the only secular humanist this side of the Sahara
I have a tongue piercing
But no tattoos
Way too permanent
I hate family gatherings
If I wasn’t so grounded (confined?) by family I’d be a Goth/ piercing billboard
Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped inside my body/circumstances/enviroment and I'm screaming to come out.
Linkin Park is my favourite band
I’m a bit of a tomboy
I have no problem doing risky thinks (bungee, ski-diving)
We all die eventually anyway.
Nothing wrong with dying now.
I love to sing
But all I do is croak
At least I KNOW that I can't sing
Cant say the same for some of the pop idol wanabes
I have no sympathy for victims of domestic abuse
They chose to stay there
I feel very strongly about a lot of things
I’m very passionate when I talk about those things
Politics is not one of them
I love blockbuster movies and epics
Ellen Degeneres rocks my world
Because she’s funny and hot.
I think way too much and analyse everything
Like why yawning is contagious
Or why women suck at golf
I’m really bad at names and faces
I lose my train of thought a lot
In mid sentence
Blame the weed
Above the 100 mark.
So sue me.
I love English soccer
Probably more than the average male Brit
ManU forever!! (Chelsea, you're going down bitch!)
I wish I was born into an indigenous forest dwelling tribe
No school, no mortgage(s), no free-thinking thoughts, no Big Brother crappy judicial system, no 9-5 daily mind-fucking grind, no concrete jungle, no middle/lower/upper class complexes
And No blog to waste my life away on.

Next Blog

2005-05-23T10:45:00.000-01:00

By the way, that 'next blog' button we all have on blogspot FUCKING SUCKS!!!

There goes my not swearing resolution, but I can't help it when i try to be all nice and sweet and I just happen to walk right into the thickest pile of goat shit so early in the morning. I don't know if its just my bad luck or there's just oodles of crap floating around in blogspot but I can't remember the last time i clicked the 'next blog' button and got something worthwhile.

Breath, Lynda, breath, don't wreck the beautiful positive energy you surrounded yourself with this morning.

Thats better.

2 quick things

2005-05-23T09:10:00.000-01:00

This is going to be quickie because I have tons of work to do and my New Week's resolution is to actually do something resembling work at work. If I lose my job my poor little bloggy will suffer and whither away like a rose budding in hell.

Two things of note happened during this past long weekend (Friday was a hol) - Leaving out the usual partying and getting stoned part coz that's a regular weekend if you know anything about me:

Saw this cute little movie called Pieces of April. It was a bit of a low budget looking flick which I thought was totally appropriate considering its 'poor neighbourhood' settings. Nothing stood out as brilliant apart from the familiar cast of Katie Holmes, the cute black kid from Finding Forrester and the big head guy from Men in Black or was it Independence Day? Anyhow, I thought it was rather nice little movie. Time well spent.

Second thing is, I took my 19 year old kid bro and his 2 best mates out for dinner at a posh restaurant. The service we got was crap considering the amount of money I was dishing out, but we still had such a blast. What really made it a great evening was the part after dinner when I was just lying back in my chair digesting and sucking on my ciggie like my life depended on it, when my bro - Victor - just stared at me and said " Wow. I love it that you are my sister. I love everything about you".

Can you spell BEAMING?

Fine, it was a cuter story in my head but I don't get to hang out with him a lot and its great to be appreciated by someone, even if its a relative.

K. Nuff said.

wtf??? partial profanity?? f**king liars!

2005-05-19T09:48:00.000-01:00

So there I was, once again on my usual crusade around cyber space, trying to submerge myself in 1's and 0's in another desperate attempt to escape the morbid pit of shit that is my life. On this fateful day, I happened to run full frontal into miss carrie's little blog explosion button.

There are a lot of pointless time wasters masquerading as Blog Exposers out there. But after careful deliberation, I decided to submit my humble blog [to blog explosion] , sit back, relax and watch the all the cyber junkies swarm in in their numbers to witness first hand my greatness and then promptly proceed to worship at the altar of Me.

As soon as i got the heads up that my little bloggy had been accepted [in blog explosion], I went in [to blog explosion] to check how it was faring. I must say I was a little gob smacked to say the least when i tracked down Bloggy [on blog explosion] and was met with these three little words: "contains partial profanity". Would you believe. Since i have nothing better to do with my life, I decided to embark on a little experiment to investigate exactly how profane I've been.

I found out that in the last 15 or so posts I've used, in several variations, that sumptuous four-letter word beginning with F only 40+ times (half of that number appears in my letting out steam rant). So with my highly advanced deduction skills i declare that by no stretch of the imagination does that constitute partial profanity. Maybe if I throw in all the other choice four letter words I've used, and only then, could it be construed as slightly PG.

Anyhow, since this is not how I generally speak, and to demonstrate that I was raised in a polite godfearing family, I've decided from here hence forth to refrain from 'partial profanity' on this blog. Plus i think its becoming a bad habit. Like smoking. Or procastinating. Or drinking. And all the other bad habits I've accumulated over the years.

So to celebrate this joyous occasion, I now declare today a public holiday.
The International F-Free Day.

I will avoid topics that make my blood curdle.
I will talk about gummi bears and cotton candy.
For the next 2 posts at least.

But still. These guys are big fat liars.
Fucking jerks.

One more thing in case you missed it in all my subtlety : BLOG EXPLOSION

Pressure Cooker

2005-05-17T13:46:00.000-01:00

Oh joy.
It's starting to happen.
The pressure is really beginning to build up now.
I'm still young enough to get away with it, but just barely.
I must have some time-bomb hanging from my neck that is visible to everyone but me.
And my time is dangerously close to running out.
Tick tick tick.

Aunt: So, don't you have a boyfriend yet?
Me: Boyfriend? Uh...no. You asked me on Friday. Not much has changed since then.
Aunt: *sigh*. I know this guy who...
Me: No thanks, really, that’s ok. It's just not one of my priorities at the moment [and could we please never have this conversation again. At least not until next week].

This little chitchat was followed by a brief shake of the head by my auntie dearest, spilling forth gallons of empathy, all without actually saying a word.

I'm surrounded by people bursting out of their skins to remedy my "situation". I feel like i should be the main attraction of some freakshow where all the little kiddies come to watch me and giggle and whisper to each other "There she is! Ooooh. Look at her, look at her! I heard she's SINGLE!!", then the mommy goes "it's not polite to point. Not too close kids, I dont want you catching it."

Ok, maybe i got a little carried away... but hey, did no one watch Sex and the City? Single is the new couple. For the umpteenth time, I do not want to be set up. But thank you. Now go away.

Through my magic crystal ball - the Revealer of the Future That Never Lies, I see my dad calling an emergency extended family meeting to get to the bottom of my "problem". Because apparently it is a problem. Unheard of quite clearly. A disease that must be cured lest my siblings catch it and be cast out of society for their nonconformance. How could it be that his pride and joy will not be cookie-cut into another 30-something housewifey SUV-driving suburban mom surrounded by kid snot? Sacrilegious.

In another 3-4 years I'll start hearing whispers in the wind about...dare I even say it.... an arranged marriage, probably suffixed by "if anyone would have her". I swear that’s the day you'll watch a story on CNN about a psychotic woman somewhere in Africa who impaled her parents with a ruler.

Methinks Coming Out Day is pretty damn close. Or at least, Leave Me the Fuck Alone Day.

Honestly I wouldn’t actually mind having a Mini-Me. I wouldn’t mind having a girlfriend either. In fact that would be awesome. Gees, I wonder how my parents would react if i came out. Even my progressive, worldly Aunt might still pop a vein. Maybe i need to stop worrying.

Maybe i need to stop rambling now and go back to work.

********
On a completely unrelated note: Damn, I wish I could use chopsticks. I cannot for the life of me understand how you can eat rice with those things. I nearly skewered my eyes during supper yesterday. Those things are dangerous, a hazard to society I tell ya. No one seems to notice that in my hands they are the real Weapons of Mass Destruction. They should at least come with a warning consumer label for some us, the less bright sparks, along the lines of: "If you eat while wildly flapping around like a conductor on crack you stand a good chance of losing an eye or two".

*******

I'm starvin.
I'm going to go reload, come back, and pretend to work some more.
Steve call me. Now dammit.

Those damn evil forces again

2005-05-16T11:10:00.000-01:00

I think I'm losing sight of the original purpose of this blog.

Its supposed to be the place where I hide in obscurity to bitch about how the dark invisible forces of the world are actively conspiring to ruin my life.

I had a totally awesome weekend
Suddenly the evil forces are on a break
Suddenly I'm happy
Deliriously, obscenely, make-me-puke happy
I'm so god damn happy its making me paranoid
I feel it. Today I'll slip on an a banana peeling and break my neck.
I'll get run over by a kid on his skateboard and die a sudden freak death.
Ohmygod! A vicious alien man-eater!
Oh wait. Just a stray doggy.
Why are you looking at me?
Stop looking at me!!
Are you still looking at me?!?!!!

My happiness is making me depressed.
Oh look, im depressed.
I'm happy coz i'm depressed.
Its my comfort zone.
Its all i know how to be.

Hmm. I guess the dark forces are back.
Relief.
All is well with the world.

To Haloscan or not

2005-05-13T10:07:00.000-01:00

Thats the question.

I'm so envious of how easy it is to leave a permanent impression of your insight and superior intellect on those sites fortunate enough to have been HaloScanned.

But whats the deal with that traceback link everyone has? Its always 0 and frankly just looks annoying. Hopefully thats an optional feature.

My only niggling concern is: do your comments disappear if Halo shuts down? Where's the track record? How reliable are these guys?

Oh well, this is hardly the cause of sleepless nights.
But anything not to do real work.

What have we got trapeizing across my desk? Are those ants??? Lets do an ant-race! Work? who, me? But then who will entertain the little ants?

Small Talk

2005-05-11T09:54:00.000-01:00

It's a bitch being single.
A royal pain in the ass.

Last night - true, it was a weekday. but its alcohol. how can I say no? - I’m hanging out with my new friend Dibs at this bar. (Who by the way is soooo hot, but I could never tell her that, at least not in an "I dig you" way, coz on the one hand she is totally straight, on the other she's got a boyfriend, and on a third hand I kinda like having her as a friend).

Yes, so we were at this funky bar leisurely contemplating the avant-garde decor...(um, ok well she was contemplating the decor, while I contemplated her - coz have I mentioned she's hot?)...when she moseyed off to get us some more coolers.

Its alcohol, of course I'll have another one. Or two. Or five.
I watch her walk away.
I almost watch her walk away.
This huge, butt-ugly, not-my-type-in-all-kinds-of-ways guy just appears from nowhere and inserts himself into my line of vision.
I'm thinking: Hello, yes Hi, you are blocking my view of the eye candy.
He comes over and asks for a light, so I give him my lighter. He saunters off.
Next thing he’s back coz he wants a smoke. Sure. Here, have two.
Maybe next time you’ll get a ciggie, then a light, in that order.
The time? Uh…just after eleven.
Oh you like my hair? I also dig this hairstyle, not too short and not too long.
Nah, I don't come here often, too expensive for me.
My pants? Um, its regular cotton I think. Yeah, yeah, very airy indeed.
Dude, please, lets not do the weather.

I needed to get away before I told him exactly what I thought of his crocodile shoes. The last time people did crocodile was when Sean Connery was James Bond.
I could see the ladies room out of the corner of my eye.
It beckoned.
I obliged.

But the worst part? HE FREAKING FOLLOWED ME.
No, it was not an Ally McBeal-ly unisex loo. Not with that big milkmaid figurine nailed to the door. And if he happened to miss that not so subtle gender demarcation, it was clearly written LADIES in red neon letters at the top of the door.

What do you have to do to get away from a guy these days? If I wasn’t so closeted I’d strut around with a T-Shirt that says "Meow, I luv pussies". But I ~~don’t like~~ fucking hate cats. I won't spoil if for you because my acrimony and just outright revulsion for cats deserves to be outlined in its own special post.

But back to the Croc Dude… I must have lost my mind coz somehow I ended up giving him my number. It got him off my back for the rest of the evening, but it’s less that 24 hours later and he's already called me 4 times. I haven’t picked up yet. How many times am I going to give my number to someone I know I never want to see ever again? You’d think after the first 600 times I’d learn. Another lesson me in all my royal thickness and fucking density have somehow failed to grasp is : don't go to a bar on a week night.

Oh well.
Like I said:
It's a bitch being single.
A royal pain in the ass.

Monday

2005-05-09T17:21:00.000-01:00

Its almost time to go home. I guess I'll just Blog the last 10 minutes away. I need to pinch myself to check if I'm really still alive. Lets define 'alive' shall we? If its breathing you mean...sure I guess I'm alive. Otherwise I'm probably as alive as dead wood, but even that has creepy crawlies all over it giving it a semblance of life. Somehow I made it through my boss' incessant mouth movements. He probably thought he was communicating but even though I could see lips moving, all I could hear was the clock ticking. Occasionally I'd sip on my glass of water, hide my yawn and nod knowingly. Yes sir! First thing in the morning I'll get on it. I will, as soon as I figure out what the fuck you were going on about.

5:30.
Finally done with this long ass day.
Is this the rest of my life?
Fuckin hell.

Motherhood

2005-05-06T11:50:00.000-01:00

I want a kid. But there are several reasons why I can't responsibly decide to have one:

I'm not yet financially stable enough to care for a baby. For one, I'm still living with family
I'm not in a stable or even remotely healthy long term relationship.
I am known to exhibit murderous tendencies when rudely awoken at 3am
Kids are universally known as Style Crampers. I'm in no way, shape or form prepared to surrender my independence, club hopping, party going, swearing, or weed smoking days.

On the plus side I'm a sweet and loving person 10% of the time.

Look. I said want a kid. You know, like how a kid wants a dog but won't feed it, take it to the vet or clean out the dog poop. I want a kid just for the good times: while he's cute smelling fresh and all smiles. So someone gimme a kid. I promise to love him some of the time.

Let me know if you want to be my sperm donor.

I confess

2005-05-04T10:50:00.000-01:00

Everyone seems to have a "100 things" list. That is, everyone except me. I feel so left out. Like I'm not part of the online bourgeoisie living at the cusp of the blogging cutting edge. Aw, but creating one is going to require sooo much brainpower. A HUNDRED things? Thats a truck load of things. Make that 2 trucks. But apparently 100 doesn't seem to cut it. No sirree... the new rage is now a 100+ thingies coz people just can't stop talking about themselves. Yes okay, I'm guilty too. Whatever. But anyway I'm going to start off with something shorter, something i've wanted to do forever.
Drum roll please......
I'm going to spill my guts.
Expose my entrails for the world to see.
Thats right, I'm going to confess.
Here goes:

I confess that I love those Hanson kids. Could they be any cuter? Zac you sexy beast, you rock my world!! Even now i still catch myself humming to mmmbop.Yes i know ALL the words. What??? It was a catchy tune dammit!
I confess that i love to think that i'm gay. Mostly because I'm terrified that I may really be asexual. Is it possible to go through life without ever falling in love?
I confess that I usually lie about my age. Only ever by one year. This is because I've always been a year older than the others in my class even in grade school. But no more! Today i stand proud as I scream from the rooftops: I AM 25!!! Erm no wait, actually its 26.
I confess that I love porn - I'm rather partial to group sex. But just as long as i'm horny. After that orgies suddenly seem like sick disgusting perverted stuff that should be banished from the surface of the milkyway along with all the gang bangers who will forever burn in hell for their lechery.
I confess that I've had a threesome. Me, another girl and a guy. Ah, it was a nite so full of promise until it dawned on me that guys usually come with dicks. She wasn't going to touch it with a 10 foot pole and I cant say i blame her. What a hairy monstrosity it was. Right, so the threesome sucked. Moving on...
I confess that I masturbate at the office even though my office door is always wide open. Damn the bloody firewall. If all the good porn didnt get blocked it would be a lot easier and faster to get it over and done with.
I confess that I nearly fucked my fave Aunt's hubby. The only thing that saved me was the fact that i was 17 and a virgin and none of my first time fantasies involved a smelly middle-aged balding fat guy. Thats not how i dreamt giving up my cherry. But i still helped him cum. Thrice. Thankfully two weeks later she kicked out the lazy fuck. No, it had nothing to do with me.
I confess that I fake it. Out of 10 i'd fake it twice, cum thrice and the other 5 times just stare at her: "Babe, uh...its just not workin for me".
I confess that I've been called a coconut or an oreo. I don't even disagree.
I confess that I love my bestfriend Steve but still think he is a wimp ass , Mr. Super Sensitive, cry baby, manic depressive, life sucking, fucking spineless chicken shit. Steve, I love you. But dude, those pills you're taking aren't cutting it coz u're still leeching my air supply. This is my friend, now lets talk about my enemies...
I confess that nobody i have personally met has ever seen this Blog. Do you even need to ask why?
I confess that I've stolen, shoplifted, lied, cheated (in exams) and almost always gotten away with it. We were 12, she was my best friend. Why oh why did i take her 100 bucks. I can only hope I'm now a better person, although I don't see how i could be worse.
I confess that despite all i've confessed to there's a lot more I've done/said/thought/touched/sniffed/heard/seen that I'm too ashamed to think about let alone type them out.

If confessions are your thing try this site - it might entertain you for a wee bit

Pop goes the weasel. Or Not

2005-05-03T14:02:00.000-01:00

Normally I wouldn't blog about a trip to the poop soup. But then again normally I wouldn't find myself holding on to the sink screaming "come out you piece of shit!". So fuck normally. Here's my trip to hell.

Yesterday, as i was about to rummage through the fridge for anything that hadn't fermented, the urge to visit the shit pit kinda slapped me upside the head, or erm downside the butt. Now to most of us, going potty is routine - I've done this so many times before it’s as natural as sex. But there was nothing routine about last night. It was a strong urge, the kind that hits you out of the blue but hits you so hard you drop everything you are doing and run clenching your butt muscles, tossing aside everything in your wake just so you don't have an unfortunate accident on your lovely spring-scented rug.

I settled down onto the ceramic rim (the seat had previously fallen off) looking forward to that familiar feeling of relief once the act is done. There I was, staring at my nails wondering if that was mould i saw on the leftover pizza, when it slowly dawned on me that this was going to be one of those. You know - a Toughie. I've had Toughies before, so I didn’t call in the paramedics yet. Normally, all it takes is a little extra effort. Normally. But like i said, this was not normally. What followed next can only be described as a trip to hell.

It felt urgent so I pushed and pushed and pushed until it hurt. Nothing. So i pushed a little more. This was clearly not working. Wait, when did i stop being the master of my own bodily functions? And why the fuck wasn't I informed? Yes okay, the day i got my period. Fine. But i'd still appreciate a little heads up.

I thought maybe if I forced it back in again it might come out a little easier. I clenched my butt cheeks and it went back up. Then I released and pushed like hell, but I could tell it wasn’t going anywhere. So I thought maybe if I broke off whatever had come out it might help. Yes, this was indeed the breakable variety. About as breakable as an iron rod. So I sent down my hand armed with tissue - but there was nothing! I could swear I just shat a baby the way it hurt, but nothing? WTF??? This had to be the dawn of a whole new specie of Toughie.

I tried the BIO (Back In and then Out) routine a couple more times. This softening technique has worked well in the past. Then I pushed for all I was worth. At this point tears were streaming down my face. I couldn’t be sure if it was out frustration, the fact that I was missing Wife Swap on tv or the sidesplitting butt-wrenching pain...either way, I had to put and end to this shit. Literally.

I saw on discovery or animal planet or something that some wild mothers massage their baby’s butt around the target exit area so it’s easier to uh...release. Trust me, it doesn’t work on humans, coz I tried. Neither does wiggling your butt. That only works if its a Skinny meets Semi-Softie and if it's partly hanging out of your sphincter. But even then the Butt-Muscle Flexing technique is more effective.

So anyway, I walked around a bit coz motion supposedly helps. I've heard horror stories about people's butts turning inside out if you tried too hard but I was ready to try anything at that point. So I tried one more time. I closed my eyes and let it rip. And then ureeka! something reared its ugly head, far enough for me to try the Break-Off Maneuver at least. Eventually, after roughly 27 minutes and 48 seconds since I started keeping tabs of the time, it happened. The highlight of my evening.

I stared down at object of my ordeal. I wanted to take a picture to capture the beast lying there smugly in the toilet bowl - you know, document the event that may have single handedly scarred me for life - but really, its a moment I would rather forget. I'm surprised I don’t need stitches, and I'm surprised the concept hasn't been developed for use as a terrorist interrogation technique:
"Talk or we'll make you drink the Toughie-Inducer (TM)."
"No! I talk! I say anything! Please - no Toughie!"

The toilet filled up with water each time I tried to flush. I'm not sure if it was the sheer size of Mr. Toughie or because I had gone through an entire roll of 2-ply and clogged the toilet. But one thing is for sure: even if the memories fade and the butt-numbing pain melts away, you will remember your ordeal for quite a while in the smell that lingers on.

Dating Me

2005-04-29T14:41:00.000-01:00

Even if i was Out, no one seems good enough for me. Where are all the world's cool people? Where are all the funky uber awesome girlies? Is there like NO ONE out of Sydney or NY that is gay AND cool AND smart?? Is that like way too much to ask? You don't even have to be hot!! Ok, wait, i take that back...AND hot! Now, i know i'm doomed to a life of compromising and settling for second best because it seems what i want is not out there. And definitely not out here.

Wait! Brainwave! What i want is ME.

Ah yes. Me. If i saw me in a bar i'd be all over me in a flash. Only problem is I wouldn't know how to approach me and me would be too cool to approach I. So me and I would be flirting from afar, downing a few drinks desperately trying to get to that happy flirty mental zone.

Like any other relationship we'd have our ups and downs, but because i'm so cool there will many more ups. I'm aloof, i'm independent i'm extreme, i'm funny, i'm weird, i'm crazy, i'm smart, i'm cute and i'm oh-so-sweet.

I wouldnt miss a chance to go out with my dream girl- me.
Coz I love me.

Ahem...

Ok, i've snapped out of it. What was that? Love Letter To Self? Damn, that was a load of selfworshiping egostroking horseshit. Since when did i become so cheezy?

I might as well go off and masturbate. That's the best way to show my love to me.

Letting out steam

2005-04-26T12:52:00.000-01:00

ARRGGGGH!!! I JUST WANNA FUCKING SCREAM!!!

FUCK FUCK FUCKKKKK! FUCK, I HATE THIS COUNTRY! I HATE MY LIFE!!!
I wanna go to some island somewhere with a population of 45 where i'd be surrounded with hot baywatch chicks with brains to match the bods instead of sitting here in 30 degrees celcius day in day out, doing invoices and fucking crap while my boss jerks off next door and my dad fucking calls me everyday like i'm five years old.

Fuck i hate my family, preaching about church and "you gotta have faith" ... well take your faith and shove it up your crack (erm..I still love you mom!). FUCK African tradditions like distributing your first salary and the fucking precise way it has to be done like i give a flying rats ass whether its better to buy congac or whiskey for the uncle i havent seen since i was 5. "No! You can't organise a dinner...thats not how things are done here, this is not Europe" DO I LOOK LIKE I FUCKING CARE???

I hate the stoopid people meet daily with an IQ of 6.5 who never made it into the first grade and want to be bribed for every little thing. No wonder people say black people are thicker than the rest...fucking retarded fucks only thinking of themselves and their fat bellies and how to screw the next person over.

I fucking hate the fact that i have two moms fighting all the time like its my fault my dad knocked up my mom and left her to go marry a psycho bitch who i had to live with. I cant help but love her coz she's all i know as a mom and she has a kind heart even though i swear she fucking fell on her head when she was a little kid and lost the plot. YOU TWO BETTER SORT YOUR SHIT OUT coz i'm tired of having occasions and you two steal my thunder and practically mudfight coz u dont get along. I swear you're both not coming to my wedding if i ever have one.

I hate the fact that my Aunt is holding a thanksgiving mass that i have to go to. And whats the thanks for? HER life! Not OUR lives even. She wants me to drive for 4 fucking hours to attend some shitty Mass because she's thanking an imaginary friend for her life???? Am i in a twilight zone here? She is a raving lunatic who sole purpose in life right now is to frustrate me and make me look like a pathetic loser because i'm not as perfect as her little girl. Well I'm not Tgirl, and I'll never be T, and thank GOD too, coz T fell off her rocker ages ago. I love myself just the way i am faults and all. T? Well I love T even though she is 22 but acts like she's 45 and is all about studies,church, cell groups and reading the bible. If thats what life is about then, i'm sorry, i'm checkin out here and now. and im ecstatic i'll NEVER BE T. Good thing too, otherwise i'll have to grow up in my Aunts house waking up to the screeching of her voice at 6:30 am fucking hollering about nothing and the bleating doesnt stop unless she's shoving food in her face.

FUCK the lawmakers who decided homosexuality was illegal. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU assholes???? How is who I fuck any your freaking business?? huh? huh? Do you see me invading your space and bitching about the way you ass fuck your wife? I hope some homo teaches you stupid cocksucking prick a lesson in MINDING YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS by giving you a deep-ass-fuck and then sucking the cum out of your asshole with a crazy straw then spitting the cum-shit cocktail in your ugly bigot face.

ARRGGGG. Let me go and hide all the knives before I slit my wrists. FUCK YOU!!!!!!

In the closet

2005-04-26T09:14:00.000-01:00

Gosh. Yesterday i finally realised how in the closet i was and if i didnt do anything about it (like leave town, or the country, or the planet...) I'd be miserable for the rest of my life. I was having lunch old with friends (ok, not quite friends, more like really good aquaintances) from my Christian boarding high school. I was looked at with shock and disgust like i was some kind of a unredeemable sinner simbly because I didnt bow my head in prayer before diving into my plate of spaghetti.

Fine. I can live with that. I can stay away from people with tiny brains and a limited scope of the world and its people. But then, we started talking about homosexuality. I thought i'd seen disgust before? These girls were like they wouldnt even want to be on the same side of the street as a gay guy or girl. Not only is it against God's Will but totally unatural and despicable and you might as well fuck a duck or bang a gang while you're at it (ok they didnt actually say ALL of that, but yeah) .

Simple solution to a simple problem you might think: Come out of the closet - about both lack of faith and ambiguous sexuality. Nah. You dont live in Cameroon. Those fucking demented bigot freaks could get you thrown in jail for being gay.

Howz that International Space Station coming along? That just might save my sanity, if not my life.

Its MY office. Mine, mine, MINE!

2005-04-22T12:38:00.000-01:00

So this is me quietly going about my business...actually doing REAL work for a change in my nice naturally lit office, and the guys INSIST on walking by, but not before pausing to question me about my light, or rather, lack thereof . NO. I don't need you to switch on my light....and no, its not "totally dark in there", and i'm definitely not "trying to save the company a few pennies". I like it like this and i can see perfectly well thank you very much. Besides, that thing streaming in through the windows? Well its called SUNLIGHT. No Michel, I thought we went over this yesterday... Looky here Neil, why dont you run off to your little office and brighten up your own miserable world. Dude, not you too...fuck off already!

You know, I really hate the fact that its company norm to keep your door open when you're in your office. I think I'm going to have to slam it in someone's face.

Yet another poetic (or not) rant

2005-04-20T14:13:00.000-01:00

I'm feeling goddamn poetic
So i'll have to rant and rave
Like a fucking heretic
Who God could never save

His Kingdom i hope i miss
Coz i hate his guts anyway
For making me have to kiss
His lame ass everyday

The difference between us
Is i dont care to whom u pray
As long as u dont make a fuss
When i decide to keep away

All i want is freedom
To do all that i please
Without some twofaced evangelist
Forcing me to my knees

This poem just plain sucks.
Lets try a limmerick instead

guys, you wake up every day
and your church asks you to say
"Jesus my lover"
over and over
your god must be fucking gay

The Return of The Boss

2005-04-19T12:54:00.000-01:00

Ooh ooh ooooh! Got a new expat boss today. Actually we were pretty boss-less before he came in (we are a small branch of a huge multi-national company, all Managers in our own domain) so normally, the atmosphere is quite informal. He's been here like what? Five minutes? yet the mood is already somber. We just had one of those corporate talks where the boss establishes his authority by disscussing "where we are headed" frequently interjected by words like "deliverables" and "goals" and stuff. Sheesh. What ever happened to NORMAL working environments where you get to spend the hours chatting online, blogging and wistfully checking out the weather in Thailand???

Bliss

2005-04-19T11:38:00.000-01:00

Today i brushed my teeth. Like I do every morning. Ok, just lost about half of my 0 readers right there. 0/2 = 0 so i guess i'm no worse off. Fuck my job is boring! Not like i'd go home and be more entertained. Spent last nite watching TV with my Aunt. Watching erm .... white ... no wait grey ... no ... its black! smoke errupt from the vatican. Rivetting viewing. But thank god my baby cousin's shrieking stepped right in to save the day and provide me with an alternative distraction. The cutest thing you've ever seen but boy-oh-boy does he have one hell of shriek! Ah, can't wait to go home for another thrilling evening with the family.

I think I need to move out. NOW. If nothing else, at least then i'd have dibs on the TV remote.

Pucker up!

2005-04-13T15:42:00.000-01:00

C'mon ye mere mortals. Lets see those lips!

Rapture has come...and gone

2005-04-13T15:40:00.000-01:00

Give up, sin and be merry!

Shakespear is stoned

2005-04-12T18:05:00.000-01:00

Here's a poem for the hell of it
Its not smart or clever or full of wit
Its just a reason for me to sit
On my big butt for a little bit

So bear with me while I ramble on
Before you know it'll soon be done
A few more verses just for fun
Then this silly rhyming will be gone

If i had a love I'd write a love letter
But since I don't i'll have to think up better
If i had a hate I'd curse and I'd swear
But since i'm a saint i wouldnt dare

So i'll write about nothing. Its what i do best
Instead of working i'm taking a rest
Being paid shitloads, but using up the hours
Writing dumb poems and dreaming of super powers

Here's to you, you blogging skank:
You scum of the earth, oh how your shit stank!
Erm.. I guess its time for me to stop
Coz clearly my rhyming has started to flop

With this last verse, there's just enough lines to say
Tomorrow is a brand new day
I'll be back with another pointless post
Till then, i raise my glass to you in a toast

Swearing. A necessary evil

2005-04-08T23:52:00.000-01:00

Sometimes there’s no other way to say it.

There are times you find yourself in a situation that one or two choice words would have saved the day, and just as they are about to roll off your tongue you somehow manage to garner some self-restraint that would have amazed even your dead granny.

Perhaps you are deeply religious and would never swear lest the Lord smite you where you stand.
Perhaps you just never got into it because you didn’t grow up swearing and as you got older you only hung around clean-mouthed geeks.
Perhaps you express yourself eloquently because you were brought up like royalty.
Perhaps you’re just a freak.

Either way, you must have said shit if not FUCK, damn if not Godammit, dear lord if not JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!!

And work doesn’t count coz everyone is sweeter than golden syrup at the office (except maybe the boss). I’m talking socially.

Which one of these are you?

He is not nice
vs
He is a sick bastard
vs
He is a fucking cokesnorting asswipe

What was my point? erm... i had a point? Ah yes, in conclusion ladies, gentlemen and the transgendered pansies of the fucked up cyberworld, my point was i dont swear. Never ever. And neither should you.

The dead pope

2005-04-07T15:03:00.000-01:00

The pope is dead. FINALLY! Don't get me wrong, i wasn't sitting around impatiently awaiting his demise, but there was an inevitablity about the outcome of the months (years?) of his illhealth.

If you watched CNN/BBC/Sky news during 48 hours leading up to his death you will understand what i'm talking about. "The pope's health is 'grave' ", "his electrocardiogram is flat", "the pope has flatlined!", "his liver and heart have failed"... then hours later "the pope's liver and heart have deteriorated" (how they deteriorated after they failed is anyone's guess).

The news coverage was a second by second account of the papal hearbeat, a rumour-driven live update of every failing organ. I wish my dying moments could be witnessed by millions of people wailing at the thought of my impending doom. On second thoughts...I'll pass. A nice eulogy after the fact will do just fine... "She was an inspiration to everyone she met, loved by the human race and a role model for all the world's people..." *sigh* oh well. I guess it just wasnt meant to be.

So what does the pope mean to me? About as much as the nice old flower guy down the street. That night, my mom wanted me to go to church. I wanted to go clubbing. Think about it, in the grand scheme of things, club or church, it really doesn't make any difference. The sun will still rise every morning, the old guy down the street will continue to sell his lillies, a giant asteroid still has a slim chance of colliding with earth in 2014, and yes - the pontiff will still be dead. So, to the club i went.

The pope was probably a really nice dude and quite a looker in his day, probably made lots of hopeful people feel better about their empty, pointless lives, but frankly he's about as divine and infallible as Bill Clinton. Although i concede he's probably a little more prudish. If you're reading this and your veins are still throbbing, almost popping out of your reddened and swollen eyes because you were weeping bucketloads for the pontiff, get a new hobby. I'm glad CNN has.

May he rest in peace.

My first post

2005-04-07T09:48:00.000-01:00

I'm a happy camper. Generally. Except when i'm faced with homophobic, evangelical, dolt hypochrites. So, I'm pretty much here to bitch, whine, fume, vent ... and the rest of that good stuff. Here's todays rant.

Question:
Whats the meaning of your life since you don't believe in God?

Response:
Take 1.
God? Utter claptrap. 'The meaning of life'??? Whats that? A code for a-pathetic-excuse-to-justify-your-hapless-and-pointless-little-existence? You 'divine' the answer to an unknowable question (ie how we came about) and then you and your bigot ilk fabricate stories that just happen to be congenial to your skewed point of view, compile some of them into a book and call it The Bible. Some other little holier-than-thou pricks dream up their own even more twisted version and call it the Qu'ran. Now, unless the whole world swallows up this codswallop and walks around like zombies spreading The Word, their life has no meaning? Puh-lease.

Take 2.
Well, i say that just to piss people off. The truth is i'm unsure about God's existence or non-existence in the absence of what I consider irrefutable proof. And i resent anyone having a personal validation (through some apparition/life changing experience) of their faith and expecting me to just share their belief and enthusiasm.

Assuming he existed and he did infact send this Jesus dude who happens to be his only son to save you from yourself. So freaking what? For the rest of my life i'm supposed to suck up, rejoice, kiss ass and be greatful? Bow down and lick the boots that gave me breadth? What's with the vanity? And this is supposed to make my life meaningful?

Faith? I have faith that Santa is not only real, but real skinny too. Doesn't matter what is fact or what you tell me, coz i got Faith.

So basically, life has no meaning. Life just is so deal with it. Enjoy it the best way you can. Treat your fellow man/woman with respect and all will be well with you.

Christians have their head so far up God's ass their heads are popping out through his Holy nostrils. Why? Because of the promise of enternal life? Or is it in fear of paroleless eternal damnation?

I may not know why i'm here, why i'm alive, if such a reason even exists. But i sure hope its not because of some weird, vain, scary dude playing me like a pawn in a chess game.

Take 3.
That other one too long for you? Oh well then bugger off and leave me alone.

Chinese is waaay cool

2005-04-07T06:37:00.000-01:00

Experiment

Objective: Translate from English to Traditional Chinese. Translate the Chinese translation back to English. All using an online translator eg worldlingo.com

Requirements: A computer, at least one finger, be a pathetic loser who has no life.

This is English
You miserable lump of meat, I can't believe you actually translated this stuff. You my dear freak are in desperate need of a new hobby. Are you really still reading this gibberish? Frankly, i think there is no hope for you. Just go lie down on your bed and don't even bother getting up again. Ever. Hold on a minute, maybe the joke is on me because i'm the one sitting here typing out this crap?

This is Chinese

您肉淒慘的團, 我無法相信您實際上翻譯了這種材料。您我親愛的畸形人是急需一個新愛好。您真正地是平靜讀這席亂語嗎? 坦率地, 我認為沒有對您的希望。請去躺下在您的床上, 甚而不麻煩再起來。曾經。舉行在一分鐘, 可能笑話是在我因為我是那個坐這裡鍵入在這胡扯之外?

This is English

Your meat pitiful group, I am unable to believe you have translated this kind of material infact. Your my dear abnormal person urgently needs a new hobby. Youtruly are tranquilly read this chaotic language? Frankly, I do not think to your hope. Please lies down on yours bed, Even not the troublesome recurrence comes. Once. Hold in a minute, The possible joke is in me because I am that seat here beside entertalks nonsense in this?

Moral of the story
a.k.a Conclusion
Don't use an online translator for anything more than "How are you?" and possibly "you little freakish maggot" because, albeit modified, they do seem to carry across some insults pretty well :)