The blog is slowly becoming something that I can be proud of. Renamed Hotpants and Hang-up’s and given a new look I hope to be able to give it alot of attention soon.
I am having some other problems too that I cant totally discuss now but I am hoping that soon these will be sorted out too… this is a big issue and while I would love to vent I cant
I am however going to ask you to go have a listen to Within temptation… they are one of my new favs and dang do they look so hot 
It would sound like a complaint if I told you that this week was soooo short, so I am not gonna say it. While I am extatic that the weekend is just outside the door I am rather worried about the fact that I am struggling to finish everything that needs to be finished.
I hate the driving its a waste of time in my opinion and I just dont have the patience needed to deal with Taxi’s. damn I hate Taxi’s I wish someone would outlaw them….. but thats just me.
You have probably noticed that I have not gotten around to everybodies blogs yet and for that I am truely sorry but duty calls and I never get to read a whole post between phone and cellphone cals and the general mad rush tha is my life right now.
But I do enjoy your comments though… I had such a good laugh at the thought of our Sweets sitting around drawing on her toes…
Just a short update sothat everybody is up to date: Will is no longer with Pigglet…the boy is playing the field again and though its sad to say, he is happier than ever.
I am not getting married, possibly ever, its a dumb idee and the though of it simply suffocates me… I am sure this is why I was totlly unable to plan the damn thing. so thats that then. Stiffla and I have not yet discussed the way forward but we will at some point I suppose.
Gym is working for me again, and last night a friend of ours moved from his gym to ours and swore to make Will buff if it kills him. after a short demonstration last night I doubt that my friend is the one who needs to live in fear of death but rather Will.
I am going to be taking before Pictures tonight and I fully intend posting his progress and any other embarrising details that may occure along the way up here very soon. 
The picture above is my pic of the week. its called “decorative pair and hope to give you a link to the artist’s page very soon sothat you can enjoy his other workds aswel.
I love this one and the rest are just as good!
1) I don’t suffer from stress. I’m a carrier
2) Insanity is my only means of relaxation
3) Hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s hand grenades I throw
4) When all else fails manipulate the data
5) Where there’s a will, I want to be in it
6) Is it time for your medication or mine?
7) All stressed out and no one to choke
Out of Body. Back in Five Minutes
9) Does killing time damage eternity?
10) Everyone is entitled to my opinion
Mugabe and the Devil
And Mugabe awoke with a hoof on his throat and he struggled and howled to be
free, And tripped on the racks of his English shoes and clawed at his
English suits,
And crashed down the unlit corridors where his wife has collected her loot,
Screaming “You may not condemn me – there are by-laws and statutes and
fines”
But the Devil replied “God’s law trumps that, and by his law you’re mine.”
Come, see what you’ve done to your people, see what you’ve done to your
land,
And then I’ll haul you back into the light, and see if you understand;
Then the Devil seized him by his neck and dragged him up into the night
And Bob hung limp, for one against one was not his idea of a fight
They spiralled down to a wasteland, and Mugabe sprawled on his face,
“Spare me, spare me” he whimpered, “spare me this terrible place”,
For he saw charred beams and scattered bricks, filth and ruin and weeds,
And through the dawn came children, sifting the dust for seeds.
“Eight years ago” said the Devil, “this place was heavy with maize,
There was fruit on the trees and crops in the earth and grass for the cows
to graze,
It was farmed by those who loved the soil, who knew it and tended it well,
And now it’s farmed by cellphone, from the Monomotapa hotel.”
“Racist” screamed Mugabe, “Imperialist, Colonist, Queer!
These people are free, that’s down to me and that’s why I rule here!”
“Free to do what?” asked the Devil, “to cower and cringe to survive?
The farms are going, the work is gone, now only your thugs can thrive,
Preying on women and children, feeding on horror and fear,
Flying flags of hate and despair that had no business here;
Look at your mindless militias, look in each alien face,
Condemned by their own insanity, exiled for life from the race,
Watch them go into action, cheer as they take up the fight,
Beating up Zimbabweans for the crime of being white,
Red-eyed from drink, thick-tongued from drugs, watch them go off on a spree
Burning the homes of Africans who dared to be honestly free.”
Mugabe licked his lips and whispered, “All freedom comes at a price,”
“Indeed?” said the Devil “And for the record – what was your sacrifice?
Did you give blood to the struggle? How manytimes were you mortared?
Or did you play politics in a hotel, and wait till your rivals were
slaughtered?
If ever you tasted honour or pain those tastes were long since forgotten,
Eclipsed by the flavours of power and greed, the aromas of all that is
rotten.
Come, Mugabe” and up they flew and soared over country and town
And each time they swooped, hunger and horror reached up to pull them down,
And the souls of children streamed past them, and on and up into the light
And Mugabe whimpered and twisted, to shield his eyes from the sight
“Sons of despair,” said the Devil “and daughters of desolate selves,
It’s the West that gives food to your people, while your cronies are
stuffing themselves, The West you despise and prosecute is the innocent’s
sponsor and friend,
But when your young ‘veterans’ seize the supplies, these fragile lives have
to end;”
“I did not know,” croaked Mugabe and the Devil applauded with glee:
“Save your lies for Mbeki, they make no impression on me.
Now, look at the shuttered factories, look at the overnight queues.”
“Blame the British,” Bob stammered, “the whites, the Norwegians, the Jews.”
But the streets sent up a whisper, a whisper as loud as a roar:
“The old man who stole three elections – it’s time that we showed him the
door!”
A scream rose up from the city, a scream rose up from a cell,
And the Devil plunged them into the earth and a cameo from hell
Of shadowed figures with smiling lips that shone with delight and disdain,
Of a body convulsing and wrenching, shaking apart from the pain;
“Applaud your police,” said the Devil, “corrupted beyond repair,
And caress the electrodes, the batons and guns, and the innocent tied to the
chair.”
But as Mugabe stretched out his hand the scene was gone in a flash,
And he stared instead at a drive full of Mercs and a house full of money and
trash,
And then at the gloom of an upstairs room, heavy with malice and lies,
Where fat men sat and talked poison, avoiding each others’ eyes:
“Here are your generals,” the Devil hissed, “your ministers, judges and
hacks,
They have fortunes and forex and farms they can’t farm, it’s only a future
they lack,
Do they flee for Malaysia , Libya , France with their women and all they can
pack?
Or do they just turn and remove you, and claim dispensation for that?
Look at the wealth that seeps from them, and then hold your nose at the
stench
Of the paltry crew that cleave to you, the cowards, the fools and the
French;
See them plotting and scheming; hear your folly despised,
Even your reptiles want you gone – you made them, are you surprised?
Now do you know what you are Mugabe, now do you understand?
You’re the Lord of the bloated thousand, and King of an empty land.
What gave you most pleasure Mugabe? Which wickedness tasted most sweet? The
mass murder of Ndebele? The children with nothing to eat?
The whites you had casually butchered? The election results that you
changed?
Or the war that you fought in the Congo , for diamond commissions arranged?
The perversion of half of the system? The enrichment of those you despise?
The limos and money and power? The lies and the lies and the lies?
I ought to admire you Mugabe; you’ve certainly earned your hellfire,
And all for small motives, self interest and fear, that aspect I have to
admire;
Better by far that you never had lived, Robert Gabriel,
The world will heal the wounds you’ve left, but I cannot heal you in hell!”
Then the Devil’s right hand grabbed Mugabe, and Mugabe he screamed in his
fright,
And scrabbled and pleaded and whimpered and begged.
And awoke to an African night,
And sweated and panted and shuddered, calling his aides to his side,
Reconstituting his ego, his vanity, evil and pride,
But then screamed again, recoiling, from that he could not bear to see:
The slogans burning his eyes from the walls and the words. we want to be
free!
Enough is enough! Zvakwana!! Sokwanele!!
The Devil meandered down Second, and strolled up Samora Machel,
“The brave will inherit,” he murmured, “when I have Mugabe in hell:
And the dawn will return to Zimbabwe , and children will learn how to smile,
Zimbabwe is one of God’s countries. but at least it was mine for a while
One of the things that I noticed about living in the suburbs was the fact that I had little or no contact with my neighbors.
I didnt know them and the only time I heard from them was when Mr. Upstairs got Jiggy with Mrs Upstairs or when Lady in thirty six ran over the cat from 42.
Nestpark however is the complete other side of the spectrum.
We have a seruous neighborhood watch and ladies committy….you will not find a closer community in your life.
Our area was recently declared a conservancy (you can find our group on facebook…. please go join the ELANDSVLEI CONSERVANCY group to see all our pics and activities) we are very proud of this and we have many projects going as far as wildlife rehabilitation and repopulating is concerned.
Naturally this costs money so we have fund raisors and this weeked saw the first conservancy Potjiekos compitition.
it was tones of fun people dressed to themes and there were different prizes.
the captain took third prize for the pot and our group (who whent as Corps kak maak) won the best spirit award….
we were very noisy and the boys all got to walk around with the guns all day they were thrilled.
by tomorrow I will have competed a new page for the gallery and you guys can have a look.
in the mean time however here are one or two to wet the appitite
Do straight jackets come in black? I don’t have shoes to go with the white ones… and if the status quo does not change I will have to resolve this fashion dilemma very soon.
I have reached the point where saying I am “colorful” (the kind of colorful that responds well to medication) no longer adequately describes my personality disorders. I have graduated to a level of delirium that scares me shitless…I am becoming a definite danger to society and I have decided to institutionalise myself before I am completely devoured by the nauseating epidemic that is GIRLIENESS!!! Yes dear readers I have been stricken by the plague and I believe that only two of my personalities have survived the infection. It is in the interest of survival that Me and I are waving the white flag of surrender…
I am still hoping that its just a passing phase but hope grows weaker with every passing romantic comedy…
Yes I watch those now, by choice I’ll have you know…two this week in fact… and they dont help the situation at all… in fact they aggravate the infection by nurturing consumerist, Hollywood ideas of charming men who’s quircks excite you rather that make you want to strangle him, Travolta types who will take you dancing and who don’t need a stiff rum to develop the slightest bit of rhythm.
All the girls are pretty and skinny regardless of what they eat. They don’t have bad hair days. They never have lipstick on their teeth and they can spend whole days in lacy bras and suspenders without the slightest hint of chafing.
In movies nobody has morning breath or bed hair… all the guys have shoulders braugd enough to sleep on and they watch you when you sleep instead farting under the covers.
Naturally the sex is great… there is no shuffling around or uncomfortable moments, and definitely no lube, everything seems to naturally know where it fits and slips in without any guidance.
However these movies always seem to end when the guy gets the girl or unrequited love becomes requited or when, despite all the hardship and obstacles this fickle world placed in their path, the couple finally see their love for one another.
Love triumphs over everything in the movies, but in real life the Hollywood happy ending is the beginning of the hard work…
Movies make you delusional… you imagine that guy meets girl, girl marries guy…we all lived happily ever after is forever so when reality kicks in you believe that you have fallen out of love and go looking for the grass on the other side of the fence.
In two years the tingly sensation in the small of your back is barely memorable… the butterflies in the pit of your tummy have died, and you no longer get goose bumps when he touches you.., hes seen you pick up weight and lose weight, hes seen you get sick and brush your teeth, he knows what you look like without your makeup and knows you wear cotton panties and go without shaving your legs for three days in the winter… now your cute, when you used to be sexy.
And getting turned on is no longer a question of stolen touches in a crowd or slight glances out of the corner of your eye. Its precise timing… between work and gym and friends and whatever other time consuming activity that fills your day… its an art of juggling more props and toys than the likes of ben hur have never seen. finally you settle for light porn or give up all together.
You no longer concern yourself with what your going to wear for when he comes around… rather you fret about what the future may hold, do you want kids some day and why the fuck dogs are easier to train then men, not to mention the fact that dogs are better listeners, come when you call them, and are a right fair bit tidier.
At some point you make a sorry attempt at getting the glory days back. wanting to feel the excitement of the chase again you pretend to build new memories and put your face on for him again. he spoils you a bit half heatedly you go on dates….but it never feels the same.
So you pack up your things and run… just to start the whole thing over and over again… why because Love is supposed to be beautifully and exciting.
I should really start wrapping this bitter monologue up soon.
Okay getting back to my phase, my sudden flood of girlieness… despite the fact that I am well aware of the way life works and that the complacency is normal I long for the chase, the touchy feely bit of a relationship, the exhilaration of the courtship.
I am all starry eyed and short of gauging out my cornea I don’t know what to do. I am sure it will pass but this is my blog and I reserve the right to vent.
Dont worry I am not planning on dumping Stiffla… and I doubt that he is feeling the same way… he has only recently realised that hes in a relationship…The complement will reach him soon though… only I believe that he may sooth himself with a PC game or some other expensive toy.
It is in light of this that I henceforth embark on a boycott against chickflicks or anything with a happy ending.
David Bullard was fired for publishing this colum in the sunday times last week.
they say the remarks are racist and while I should say that I dont agree with his closing comment, he raises a good point.
What would AFRICA be like if the brits and their kin had not colonised the place.
I especially would like my ethnik readres (what is the politically correct term here?) to comment as I am aware that I am seeing this from a white persons perspective.
Imagine for a moment what life would be like in South Africa if the evil white man hadn’t come to disturb the rustic idyll of the early black settlers.
Ignored by the Portuguese and Dutch, except as a convenient resting point en route to India. Shunned by the British, who had decided that their empire was already large enough and didn’t need to include bits of Africa.
The vast mineral wealth lying undisturbed below the Highveld soil as simple tribesmen graze their cattle blissfully unaware that beneath them lies one of the richest gold seams in the world. But what would they want with gold?
There are no roads because no roads are needed because there are no cars. It’s 2008 and no one has taken the slightest interest in South Africa, apart from a handful of botanists and zoologists who reckon that the country’s flora and fauna rank as one of the largest unspoilt areas in a polluted world.
Because they have never been exposed to the sinful ways of the West, the various tribes of South Africa live healthy and peaceful lives, only occasionally indulging in a bit of ethnic cleansing.
Their children don’t watch television because there is no television to watch. Instead they listen to their grandparents telling stories around a fire. They live in single-storey huts arranged to catch most of the day’s sunshine and their animals are kept nearby.
Nobody has any more animals than his family needs and nobody grows more crops than he requires to feed his family and swap for other crops. Ostentation is unknown because what is the point of trying to impress your fellow citizens when they are not impressible?
The dreaded Internet doesn’t exist in South Africa and cellphone companies have laughed off any hope of interesting the inhabitants in talking expensively into a piece of black plastic. There are no unsightly shopping malls selling expensive goods made by Asian slave workers and consequently there are no newspapers or magazines carrying articles comparing the relative merits of ladies’ handbags.
Whisky, the curse of the white man, isn’t known in this undeveloped land and neither are cigars. The locals brew a sort of beer out of vegetables and drink it out of shallow wooden bowls. Five-litre paint cans have yet to arrive in South Africa.
Every so often a child goes missing from the village, eaten either by a hungry lion or a crocodile. The family mourn for a week or so and then have another child. Life is, on the whole, pretty good but there is something vital missing. Being unaware of the temptations of the outside world, nobody knows what it is. Fire has been discovered and the development of the wheel is coming on nicely but the tribal elders are still aware of some essential happiness ingredient they still need to discover. Praying to the ancestors is no help because they are just as clueless.
Then something happens that will change this undisturbed South Africa forever. Huge metal ships land on the coast and big metal flying birds are sent to explore the sparsely populated hinterland. They are full of men from a place called China and they are looking for coal, metal, oil, platinum, farmland, fresh water and cheap labour and lots of it. Suddenly the indigenous population realize what they have been missing all along: someone to blame. At last their prayers have been answered.
I recived this by e-mail this morning and I thought it was genius….
I am always bitching about how narrow some females can be and after reading this I conclude that I know too many GIRLS and not enough REAL WOMAN
REAL WOMAN
Girls leave their schedule wide-open and wait for a guy to call and make plans.
Grown women make their own plans and nicely tell the guy to get in where he fits.
Girls want to control the man in their life.
Grown women know that if he’s truly hers, he doesn’t need controlling.
Girls check you for not calling them.
Grown women are too busy to realize you hadn’t.
Girls are afraid to be alone.
Grown women revel in it-using it as a time for personal growth.
Girls ignore the good guys.
Grown women ignore the bad guys.
Girls make you come home.
Grown women make you want to come home.
Girls worry about not being pretty and/or good enough for their man.
Grown women know that they are pretty and/or good enough for any man.
Girls try to monopolize all their man’s time (i.e., don’t want him hanging with his friends).
Grown women realize that a lil’ bit of space makes the ‘together time’ even more special-and goes to kick it with her own friends.
Girls think a guy crying is weak.
Grown women offer their shoulder and a tissue.
Girls want to be spoiled and ‘tell’ their man so.
Grown women ’show’ him and make him comfortable enough to reciprocate without fear of losing his ‘manhood’.
Girls get hurt by one man and make all men pay for it.
Grown women know that that was just one man.
Girls fall in love and chase aimlessly after the object of their affection, ignoring all ’signs’.
Grown women know that sometimes the one you love, don’t always love you back-and move on, without bitterness.
Girls will read this and get an attitude.
Grown women will read this and pass it on to other Grown women and their male friends.
Shit shit shit!!!!
People help me please…Im trying to break up with my girlfriend, but I dont know how. She is great and I love her…but I feel uncomfortable with her around my friends because she doesnt quite fit in. I cant be myself with her anymore these days and the relationship is killing me…You all know about the pics and cuddle post Lee had in FEB…That is part of the reason…My trust in her is broken.
She is going to cry rivers and that is gona hurt me because I do not want to hurt her, but it has to end. I feel shit for not having a “real ” reason, but somehow my hart is aching and it tells me that it has to end. I still love her, but in my life if you break my trust you are gone…I have held on to her for a few months after, just to try to see if my trust in her will return. It has not!!!
The two of us are worlds apart in the way we were raised and even after a year and three months together we are still very different. I am her all, and that hurts to just let her go…but I cant go on with this relationship any-longer and that hurts me IMMENSELY!!
Please help…What the Fuck must I do?
If I were to exhaust my vocabulary on the matter I would lack the capacity to adequately explain to you how incredibly pissed of I am right now.
My blood is boiling and I have reached the point where I am starting to yell at random people who happen upon my path.
Your rolling your eyes I can tell, sighing something about Lee being pissed again so all is right with the world but you fail to realize the severity of the situation….
I am so pissed that I would gladly spawn children and live the life of a kept woman just to escape the aggravation I suffer at the hands of clients who need to be spoon-fed every single minute detail and people who need someone breathing down their fucking necks before they show any signs of intelligent life inhabiting the sorry Shell of a human being.
I am of the persuasion that they were hired purely on pulsrate as I am yet to see any further merit to their pathetic attempt at corporate….corporate…shit corporate anything!
I am losing business through no fault of my own, I am stuck in my office doing admin because of the pre-potty-training clients, and the worst of it is the fact that I know that no amount of bitching will help the situation regardless of who I bitch too.
Am I alone here!
I swear come tomorrow I am applying for a passport. I intend moving to the states to go and live in one of those deliberate societies where people live like the Amish just without the bibles and abstanace (I couldn’t live without nookie-nookie). No income tax, to pay for ESKOMS fuckups and the smear campaign that masks the ANC’s absolute inability to run a country… No traffic jams and potholes… no zero bank balances and debit orders to give me sleepless nights… nobody to fuckup a business relationship you spent six months building… NO BANKS!
On the other hand there are no stilettos and no blogs among the bush wacking tree hugging plebs and I seriously doubt that my addiction to coffee and hubbly-bubbly will be met with anything other than pitch forks and a burning stake….maybe I can negotiate the hubbly.
If anybody is looking to employ I am a great marketing consultant and an amazing admin person….better than most let me tell you that…. I am fluent in English, Afrikaans and bullshit. I learn fast and manage people like a Sergent major (just look at Stiffla and Will).
I also have a PULS if that helps…..
Oh by the way Will pased his learners permit test. Now he needs an apointment for the drivers again but I believe he has more pressing matters to think about. he may fill you in on it in a few weeks time… NO I havent sold him into slavery yet (I havent had the time and quite frankly I cant find a slaver with such low standards)
My new office is providing lots of peace and quite especially since my new anti virus has several objections to MSN and will not run the thing despite my most ambitios efforts. However the truck load of shit that needs to be tended to is sucking the fun out of having my own space.
I have no money, for the first time in my life this is a positive thing as I cannot afford the tools required for my preferred methods of committing suicide. I have tried and my microwave wont run with my head in it and I have made very little progress on slitting my pulses using a butter knife (shogun is expensive) chainsaw enemas require petrol and since inflation and the beloved giants in Opec decided to up the profile of the precious commodity from a necessity to a luxury item I can no longer afford to fuel the chainsaw. I tried jumping from a bridge to but a pothole in the N12 swallowed me and I had to pay for a plain ticket to get home from china.
It seems I will have to delay testing my reincarnation theory until April at witch point my focus will probably have shifted from suicide to homicide.
