When it's over, it's over. Move on.

I have recently encountered people who break up with the people that they date for good or not so good reason and then get fed up when those poor (or most often actually, extremely lucky) people don't pine for them forever! They want to be "The one that got away".

Um, there is no such thing. Generally if you dump someone and expect them to pine for you, they really are better off, no matter how wonderful you consider yourself to be. A person who delights at the pain and sadness of another is merely a liability; A lump of coal to be swept out of the path and forgotten as you move on to your diamond.

It is most often that when these poor sods wake up and realise what a favour the dumper did them, they feel that overwhelming sense of relief and freedom and move on without looking back and it is the person who is fed up at not being hung-up on who is left actually being hung up on a long-forgotten moment. It is a sad, sad thing and a degree of narcissism that can't be considered healthy or normal.

Should any friendship ensue afterward, it is usually because the person who was dumped has moved on to such a degree that the dumper has absolutely no effect on them whatsoever. Sadly this is often misunderstood by the dumper as them still having some effect on the now very happy dumpee and perhaps reignites the ludicrous notion that they were, in fact, "the one that got away". It is rather amusing on some level and just absolutely astounding at the level of absolute ignorance that these Dumpers have as they really just don't get it.

To spell it out for the men and women out there who actually think that their ex is crying into their pillow at night for them or secretly kicks themselves for having "let you get away", wake up, you are not missed, not pined for and that person is most certainly better off as you turned out to be a bad, bad person. Now let it go and move on, dammit!

Alan

There was a bunny and he used to hop everywhere at a speed unknown to anyone, except him and really, really fast people. He even hopped in zigzags! It was incredible!

This post has no meaning or relevance, except one, to see if Alan will read it. Alan is the bunny in question. He is my bunny. My very precious and sweet bunny and I love him to bits but I know when he is lying and I know when he pretends to do stuff or read stuff and give me feedback :D

If you are reading, Al, I love you so very much and can't wait to hop in those speedy little zigzags with you forever!!

Lots of love
NutoftheBun
xxx

"Stop! In 10 years from now..."

Have you ever had something big happen, good or bad, and thought "I wish I could go back and do things differently!" ? Most people do and while it's ideal to try and live with minimal regret, it's impossible not to have some.

I've often thought that if time travel were possible, I would go back to certain instances and run up to myself and say "Stop! In ten years from now..." and explain to my younger self why I should or should not do/eat/date/stare at/jump on/skip/attend certain people/events/moments/fabric softener containers, etc, etc.

There is the theory that if things didn't happen exactly the way they did, you wouldn't end up where you are now. Cause and effect. True. But sometimes, there's more than one way to an outcome and a lot of pain and misery and embarrassment and doctors bills and therapy bills and wasted time and energy could be avoided.

So, here are a few of my ideas of how I would've changed things and where I suspect it would've led to:

1984 - Tom Thumb Creche in Aunty Pam, the principle's office - "STOP! Don't be cheeky to Aunty Pam and tell her that it isn't her jungle gym, lean over instead and take Mr Pink and wallop her on the head and run! You'll be taken out of this rubbish nursery school and will be able to stay at home and not be exposed to these idiotic women who don't know anything about children."

I probably would've listened. Darn! Or maybe not and kicked myself really hard and run. I was a bit wild.

1991 - Primary school - "STOP! Don't bother trying to be that little girl's friend, she's a cow and you'll end up not speaking to her ever again in a few years anyway and won't feel upset at all!"

I probably would've told myself that I wasn't allowed to talk to strangers and walked away. So silly!

1995 - High School in homeroom where I was given 5 seconds to make my subject choice so that the admin department could finish their schedule - "STOP! This cow can't fail you! And don't choose history as a subject, you'll never actually study for the exam and you'll end up refusing to go to school and you'll end up leaving and buying the textbooks and just doing it all at home with totally different subjects anyway and it won't be very easy or fun!"

I would probably think "hmmm, home schooling...I like that idea!"

1999 - First serious boyfriend - "STOP! Just date this guy for a year until he pushes you to have some direction and then leave!!"

I would probably not have listened.

2004 - Buying a house with a person I thought I would marry - "STOP!! This dude is going to screw you over and you'll never be a first time buyer again and it will cause a messier than normal breakup and the guy is just a monster in a tutu. Run! And take the dogs and cats with you and kick his dad before you leave. Hard."

I may have started to question my sanity here at seeing myself giving me advice but I may very well have listened anyway.

2006 - Moving to Cape Town - "STOP!" Buy a new radiator cap and don't let the other chicky drive as she'll push your little car too far and it will break and cost you the earth until you sell the car!"

I would not have told anyone about this new-found strangely helpful craziness but I would've listened.

2007 - Dating someone who was looking for a relationship of convenience - "STOP! Just walk away. In fact, go back to Joburg NOW!"

I wouldn't have listened. I would've started consulting a psychiatrist though.

2009 - Shunning certain people after my dad died - "No, you keep going! It's long overdue anyway!"

Hmmm...

2010 - Being proposed to in Cape Town - "SAY YES!! Don't stand there and think about it for 3 weeks! Just jump up and down and scream "YES!!!!" because you know you're going to say "yes" anyway! And make arrangements to spend time with your friends who mean a lot to you, especially Kerry."

By now I would've been so medicated that I probably would've just obediently complied.

I sat wondering this morning what I would be saying to myself ten years from now, or even two years from now:

"STOP! You're stressing too much about stupid things and you will be bald on your wedding day if you don't stop! Don't wear fake nails again! Buy a warmer coat and stop drinking coffee!"

At least I hope that's the worst it could be :)

Thanks goodness I am not medicated nor do I plan to be but if I ever see myself approaching me, I'd probably faint and never hear what I have to say anyway. Figures.

Trying to find the answers

Every now and then, I decide to go and read up on stomach cancer or liver failure or colon cancer or just do a symptom search for what happened to my dad when he died because I don't believe the 2 minute autopsy that we had to get a court order to do and it was done by lazy government employees and Jhb Gen's doctors refuse to speak to me about my dad's medical history and while you may think "But it was over a year ago, just let it go", it's not so easy when you don't have the answers. It's not as upsetting anymore which is why I also do it, because I am able to look and read and remember, without wanting to burst into tears and will hopefully find some answer which sounds more plausible and I will then let it go.

Today was acute liver failure. This seems very possible actually. He took copious amounts of pain killers for the constant pain he was in for his joints and headaches and all sorts of other things. It could've really only been from taking too many of them at once. Those nasty yellow painkillers that taste so vile but work so well? Bad news! Stay away! My gran also didn't look so hot on her death bed and it was also most likely from these painkillers.

So far, this has been the closest I have come to his exact symptoms. Next time I have flu, I'll ask my GP what he thinks.

It will be whatever you want it to be and nothing else. Unless you want it to be.

There are all shapes and sizes of spiritual beliefs. They are mostly quite interesting and while I think some have more substance to them than others, I listen and investigate and try to be as open-minded as possible.

I do not go to church because I don't agree with organised religion. I believe that your spirituality and beliefs should come from within yourself based on what you have discovered and experienced, and not just on what the fat bald man standing behind the podium says.

I have had some very interesting experiences and discussions with people of numerous belief systems and can see merit in each one and some stuff in each one that I do not agree with.

One of my most interesting encounters has been with people who have a sort of new age spiritual outlook. They believe in vibrational energy and that people vibrating on a higher frequency will soon move into the 5th dimension (the 2012 predictions) and will not be able to be seen by those with lower vibrational energy.

They believe in totems and tarot and faeries and even unicorns. They strongly encourage getting back in touch with your inner child and learning how to utilise your imagination the way you once did as a child.

They took me outside into the beautiful garden at work and asked me if I could see the faeries and told me how to summon them. They made me close my eyes and asked me if I could feel the enormous unicorn standing right in front of me. Trying to be truly open to new experiences, I had to at least genuinely try. I stood there with my eyes closed, the scent of the flowers surrounding me filling my nose, the soft grass tickling my feet and the gentle breeze blowing just enough to cause a slight shiver and I felt...nothing. Well, apart from all the environmental factors.

I wasn't sure what to make of these people. Was it something that I was too skeptical of to see and feel? Were they just really deprived of attention as children and were trying to compensate now? Were they perhaps in need of psychiatric medication for their delusions? Or did they need rehab for whatever they were already taking?

Another group of interesting people that I encountered were the Mormons. I worked for a company a while back where I was the only person who was not a Mormon.

These people were very happy and lived very pure and healthy lives. They believed in 3 levels of heaven and a period of waiting before God comes and reclaims your body and then He decided where you go. During this time, if you are worthy, you will perform celestial duties.

They believe that heaven is a physical planet closest to a planet called Kolob. There is also a mother god and is gets a little complicated about who is considered divine and who not.
Basically, unless you seriously are a suckey person, you get to go to a level of heaven and be happy there with everyone of your same non-suckey level there with you.

They wear special under garments to remind them of vows of purity that they have taken and then they watch a terrifying movie where the "devil" threatens them if they tell anyone about their sacred ceremony or break their vows.

Blah blah blah happy clappy religions, blah blah blah, forsake everything material religion, no matter what though, all of these have common denominators and they all seem to interpret the exact same things very, very differently and then fight about it.
Does it really matter if Peter thinks he looks great in purple but Jane thinks he looks better in teal?
I love to listen and learn and maybe find amusement or truth or whatever but when people try and shove it down my throat, I get annoyed. Surely if Michael truly believes that dancing naked every night and sacrificing a bowl of macaroni to the moon is right and he follows this every night without fail, then surely he's on the right path? If a person believes in their heart of hearts that what they are doing is right and what God or Buddha or the Pink Panther or whoever they worship wants, who is anyone to judge? And who is anyone to try and shove it on anyone else? Maybe it's right for you and not for them. Maybe your interpretation of the "one and only truth" is different from theirs.

A message to those who shove their beliefs at everyone else:
Before you go and run off and call people evil and tell them that they're going to hell for not going to church/eating meat on Monday afternoons/watching Harry Potter/not believing what *you* do, stop and think about what a closed-minded fool you are and a zillion other people would probably tell you too that you're going to hell for your beliefs and as much as you know you're not and know you're right, so does everybody else know the same about themselves. Just live and let live.

Television

This one makes me think of those parents whose kids start speaking late in life, battle through school and generally just don't reach their potential.

Television
by Roald Dahl

The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did

The teabag poem

Another one of my favourites:

"l'd like to be a teabag,
And stay at home all day -
And talk to other teabags
In a teabag sort of way . . .

l'd love to be a teabag;
And lie in a little box -
And never have to wash my face
Or change my dirty socks . . .

l'd like to be a teabag,
An Earl Grey one perhaps,
And doze all day and lie around
With Earl Grey kind of chaps.

l wouldn't have to do a thing,
No homework, jobs or chores -
Comfy in my caddy
Of teabags and their snores.

l wouldn't have to do exams
l needn't tidy rooms,
Or sweep the floor or feed the cat
Or wash up all the spoons.

l wouldn't have to do a thing,
A life of bliss - you see . . .
Except that once in all my life
I`d make a cup of tea!"

Peter Dixon

Mashed potato love poem

I have decided to share some of my favourite poems by various authors. This is one of them:

"If I ever had to choose between you and a third helping of mashed potato (whipped lightly with a fork, not whisked, with a little pool of butter melting in the middle...)
I think
I'd choose
the mashed potato.

But I'd choose you next."

Sidney Hoddes

Who to invite and who not to invite

Planning a wedding is a lot of fun. I've heard about how it's so stressful, etc and maybe yes, later on when Aunty soandso finds out that she isn't invited and it starts a fight with Uncle whatisface because he said she would get drunk and strip during the ceremony, it may begin to get a little tense.

The thing is this, I have a big family. I don't always speak to everyone or see everyone and although I'm friends with most of them on FB, we don't communicate much.

Now like most people, we put EVERYBODY on the list, looked at the cost and decided to cut, cut, cut. The question is: Who?

If somebody invited you to their wedding, are you automatically obligated to invite them to yours?
If you invite some of the first cousins that you speak to and associate with more regularly, are you obligated to invite all of the other first cousins?
If you have a group of friends, but are closer to some than others, are you obligated to invite everyone in the group?

Obviously we can invite whoever we want to and feelings will be hurt and squabbles will be had but is there some sort of absolute rule when it comes to these things? Like, if you haven't spoken to someone, regardless of the connection for more than 2 months, 4 hours and 56 minutes, they can be cut? Is there anything like that? It would help so much! If not, one should be started! I'm not starting it though, somebody else should; Somebody who is already married!

It would be lovely to invite everyone but we sadly lost our money tree in the move and now the guilt and difficulty in deciding who to cut is unavoidable.

Comments regarding this would be most appreciated.

Forgiving and forgetting just isn't an option sometimes

It's been a bit over a month now since my friend, Kerry, was killed in a car accident. For you to understand my frustration fully, let me tell you a little about Kerry.

I met Kerry at work. She was very different to other people. Very innocent in her thinking yet surprisingly wise about things you'd think she knew nothing about.

Kerry loved to laugh and tease and just generally make people feel good. She was always there if you needed a voice of reason or a hug or just a mischief companion.

Kerry was also very devoted to her church and her beliefs and lived her life in such a manner as there was no mistaking what she stood for. I didn't always agree but I respected her for staying so true to her values.

On the Wednesday evening, Kerry drove to a church meeting in Benoni. While she was doing this and in her meeting, 2 guys sat in some pub or some restaurant or some place somewhere getting drunk.

At around 9pm, Kerry left the church and started to head home. At the same time, these two drunk men climbed into a black BMW and raced through Benoni town, not bothering to stop at the red traffic lights.

As Kerry was crossing a main road in Benoni where the light was green for her in a Ford Bantam Bakkie with no airbags or major safety features , the BMW came screaming at over 100km through the red light and T-boned her car from the passenger side.

All 6 airbags were deployed inside the BMW and the driver and passenger were uninjured.
Kerry, however, suffered head trauma and had broken ribs and was unconscious and not breathing.

Her uncle and cousin had been driving just in front of her and had seen the accident and were able to notify the paramedics immediately.
Kerry was put onto a ventilator and taken to hospital where her family were told that she would most likely not make it.

Kerry remained in a coma for 3 weeks with bruising and swelling around her brain and swelling in the rest of her body.

She was somewhat responsive whilst in her coma which gave us all hope. I went to see her and held her hand and spoke to her and told her how we all loved her and missed her and wanted her to wake up. She squeezed my hand and I was positive that she would wake up and be back to teasing us all in no time.

Kerry started making progress after 3 weeks and was moved off the ventilator and into a normal ward.
After two days, she died from a blood clot on her lung.

I was so angry and puzzled and upset about her sudden passing and although I knew that she was pain free and was in a better place, etc, it angered me that somebody who lived such a good and pure life was murdered by people on a drunken joyride!

I asked her family members if anything had happened to the driver and they couldn't tell me much except that the car had been reported stolen and hijacked a few hours after the incident. The two men had fled from the hospital and had yet to be seen.

I was told that I should just let it go with regards to the men who killed her and find it in my heart to forgive them.

I can forgive most people for most things but this is something I find extremely difficult to let go of. I am not divine, I am human and I am angry.

I do not call many people friends and call even fewer close friends but she was one of these and she had her promising life ripped away from her and all of us here who loved her and for what?! It's not fair and yes, life is not fair but sometimes it isn't because we don't let it be.

I know it will never bring her back if they sit and rot in jail forever but it will prevent them from causing any further tragedies.

On the subject of drunk driving:

I am not even asking, I am begging those people who are social drinkers, please, if you've had too much, please do not drive. For the sake of your friends, your loved ones and for the sake of everyone else who has a friend or loved one out on the roads at the same time as you.

Please also be a real friend to your friends and don't just phone them later to make sure that they got home alright, rather advise them not to drive home and organize alternate, sober transport.

Alcohol impairs judgement and affects a persons motor skills and although someone may think they're fine, they are very possibly not. Alcohol also takes an hour to be processed by the liver into the bloodstream so by the time a person feels a little drunk, they have already had too much.

Please drink responsibly.

T'was a dark and relatively overcast night a long time ago

(Since our last burglary incident, and with the insurance not having
replaced the door yet, I was forced to sleep on a mattress in my
parent's room as my door wouldn't close anymore, let alone lock. The
story takes place there)

I was lying there all trying to sleep and stuff when I heard a noise that sounded like somebody walking on the roof!

I sat up and said "Do you hear that?" but alas, their snoring bellowed
even louder in their ears than it did mine.
Later, I heard lots of cutlery moving! They were coming to
hack us to pieces!
"Did you hear THAT?" but once again, only my ears seemed sharp enough
for the tin-ey tinkle of knives and forks being selectively sifted
through until the perfect size, shape and pointyness was found.
Suddenly, they clumsily bashed into the wall with their selection in
hand. It was big! Nothing compares to the sound of a knife clumsily
being hit against the wall, the sound is simply unmistakable.
"You MUST'VE heard that!" By now, I was annoyed that I would be the
only one being chopped up without pleasant thoughts beforehand.
"MOM! Push the friggin' panic button!"
"Eh? But why?"
"Are you in some sort of sleepy daze?! Pass it here, I'll push it!"

And then I heard them go the wrong way down the passage. They had
donned squeaky shoes suddenly! How DARE they put squeaky shoes on! The
absolute audacity to add some childish humour to their brutal attack
was making me angry.

And then the fireworks started. Huh? In the passage?

Eventually I got up, marched over to the panic button but was stopped half
way by an indistinguishable sound...my dad's breathing. I stopped and
just listened. It changed from sounding like some sort of injured
animal to fireworks to cutlery and then, lo and behold, squeaky shoes!

How relieved I was that it was just my dad's peculiar breathing I'd been hearing and not someone wearing squeaky shoes armed with a knife and fireworks coming to murder us!

The walking on the roof was long gone. Probably somebody taking a short cut to rob the house next door.

When people shove religion and sex at you

I had recently re-established contact with a friend and at first our
polite and friendly chit chat was great!
However, it was starting to seem as if she was steering me in
the direction of religion.
No, you don't understand. She's not a bible-puncher, she'll outright knock your lights out with it! I kid you not!
I was just waiting for the email that asked if I'd "found Jesus yet?" I had a few responses in mind including, "Is he hiding?", "No, why? Did you pack him into my stuff when I moved? Is that legal?" and "Yes, he was here a minute ago. Said he'd be right back for me but don't say anything, you're not meant to know that you're
not invited." O.k, I didn't but this was going to get weird and awkward
and I didn't want that.
Actually, I had another idea. There was this chop at work who called me
'Nigella'. It's from that KFC ad. Anyway, he was bordering on
a slap but instead I got his number and got her to phone him and teach him to right his wrongful ways.

I used to think that people could be divided into a few distinct categories: Those who are married and need a new hobby and so they become over-religious, those who are married and normal, those who would desperately do anything to be married, those who would desperately do anything to be normal, those who would desperately do
anything not to be married, those who just desperately do anything and those who are just normal. And me. And probably you too.

Crazy exploits of the dumped and depressed

It was a freezing cold Monday morning when I boarded the train and
spotted a familiar face sitting in the corner engrossed in a book. I
shuffled over and plonked myself down opposite her. She looked up from
her book and smiled at me. We did the usual "oh my word! I haven't
seen you for ages!" chitchat and she put her book away.
I hadn't seen her in almost 2 months and although we didn't know
each other very well, there was a connection that people have from
similar experiences.
The topic turned to men. She had been dumped, not for any particular reason other than "it wasn't going anywhere". She was now in the anger stage and was having vivid, angry fantasies about getting some novice cellists, or just anyone off the street would do,to pitch up at her ex's flat at 3am every morning for a week, and just practice.
I decided that I had to intervene. Not only would she most likely get into trouble with the police, but her ex was my neighbour.
We spoke a lot about how things change and how people change and in the
end decided that she should continue with her therapy and that I
should probably start.

So, next time you want to throttle someone, find someone else who's
been there and listen to how idiotic and hilarious in is in retrospect
and it may just save you from having to fix your dancing shoes from
frantic midnight escapades in the mud. Ahem.

Are the voices in my head bothering you?

A while ago I was helping my sister and brother-in-law with a project that they were busy with. We were taking a short break when my nephew came and sat at the computer on the dining room table where I'd been sitting and started to play a computer game.

After a short time, he started to moan about how the voices were irritating him. My sister and I looked at each other; We didn't hear any voices, the game's sound was off. We ignored the comment and carried on chatting.

After a while, my nephew got very agitated and started whining that the voices were really annoying him and that he just wished that they would stop talking.

My sister and I exchanged worried glances. There were no voices or noises from the game at all! Was there some strange dormant condition that this poor child was suffering from that had chosen to manifest itself now starting with delusions?

"Andy, are the voices telling you to do things?" I asked. This irritated him a lot "No!" he yelled at me, "It's not like that! They're just voices."

"Ands, what are they saying? Whose voices are they?" my sister asked.
"I don't know what they're saying! I don't know whose voices they are but they're irritating me!" He replied almost in tears.

We were getting more and more worried until we noticed that he had the ear phones draped around his neck and there was a very feint sound coming from them! The voices were the voices of Spongebob and Squidward from the game he was playing.

Later on, when we were having a late supper, I sat down at the table and was about to put my plate down when I heard creepy sounds coming from the table (which was shrouded in papers and books and homework) and, being rather anti-insects, I freaked out. I ran back into the kitchen yelling "There's a creature on the table, it's making a really gross sounding walk-ey noise!"

My sister went to the table and carefully lifted papers and books and homework and found nothing. I came back to the table and once again, as I was about to put my plate down, there it made it's creepy-crawl-ey noises again!

Once again, I yelled and ran for it and she came to have a look. This time, she very carefully lifted the table cloth and there it was...the earphones lying under the table cloth, the Spongebob game still on.

O.k, the computer monitor was facing away from me and I thought he had stopped the game but I felt like a real chop.

An adaptation of an adaptation of Roald Dahl's adaptation of Cinderella starring all of you.

This is strictly fictional. Any similarity to real persons is purely
coincidental.
Please note that no offence is intended. The co-author waives any
responsibility for any tears, fights or questioning of sexual
preferences as a result of the content of this post.
Please note that most of the adaptation of the adaptation of the
original has been left in tact and all lameness is to be excused as a
15 year old's humour is generally lame.
Ahem:

I guess you think you know this story?
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
was cooked up years and years ago,
and made to sound all soft and sappy,
just to keep extremists happy.

Mind you, they got the first bit right,
the bit where in the early night,
Di and Chants, looking hot,
departed for the parking lot.

While pale and grinning Jarrorella,
locked himself in Tessa's wine cellar,
where Kristy, who wanted things to eat,
began to nibble at his feet.

He bellowed "Help!" and "Let me out!"
Fairy Jono heard his shout.
Appearing in a ball of snot,
he said "what's up, you drunken clot?"

"What's up?!" cried Jarrod, "can't you see?
I feel as drunk as a punk in pee.
There is a disco at Marsha's palace.
The rest have gone, and I am jalous!"

"I want a dress! I want a coach,
a g-string and a plastic brooch!
And silver flippers, two of those,
and extra laddered pantihose!
Done up like that I guarantee,
that Koos van Zyl will fall for me!"

So Jono said, "Hang on, you tick."
He gave J's bum a mighty kick.
J beat his head against the wall,
It missed his bum and hit his ....

Jon gave a sigh and rubbed his face,
and J appeared at Marsha's place.

J and Koos danced for very long,
and to every single Kurt Darren song.

But midnight struck, J shouted "Heck!,
I'd better run to save my neck."
"No!" cried Koos, "Alas! Alack."
K grabbed J's dress to hold him back.

"No!" begged Jarrod, "Let me go!"
The dress was ripped from head to toe.
J lost his g-string on the stair,
and ran out in no underwear.

The ending has no happy magic,
but is quite weird and rather tragic.
For J ran crying to his mum,
as the sun beat down and burnt his bum.

Every third one tastes like catfood

Have you all found happiness or are you too still
hindered by the fact that every third wafer in the packet tastes like
cat food?

My mom is driving very badly but then again I think that it could be a
group mentality thing going on. Do they make pills for this?

I am preparing myself for a day of wishing that I had a few hundred
elastic bands with me to shoot my boss on his gleaming forehead
because he seriously irritates me. I keep telling myself that he's old
and I should be patient and be a nice girly, but the urge to throw all
my paperwork out the window and shoot elastics at him until he goes
back to his own darn office, is getting stronger by the day.

I keep thinking about monkeys. Do you think a monkey would be ok with
dentures? I mean, if they were put in only at meal times by a person?
Or could a monkey live on soft mushy stuff?

p.s: it's the chocolate wafers. Every third one. Third being whichever
one you happen to eat third. No, you can't eat two and then start
again tomorrow. The third one will always get you. Go on, try it. It's
disgusting!

Rules for when I'm irritable

1. You are not allowed to do/not do, say/not say, commit/not commit any
thing/act that makes you look/sound like a 5 year old/a hermit who's
never seen another human being/a deranged lunatic if, and soley if,
nobody has ever told you not to.

Read it a few times and just when you think you've got it, start again.

My dear friends, to stop my hair from turning 10 different shades of
grey and to keep most of it, I am telling you all, right now, in this
post, (write it down on your curtains if you must) that you
shouldn't. You mustn't. Don't. Ever. Or seldom. Not that any of you
have but as I just discovered that pure ignorance is a good excuse for
absolutely no common sense and an even better excuse to annoy the
daylights out of me, so I thought I'd just say "don't do it!"

You're confused? You mean, you don't know what you mustn't do? Yes, nor do I anymore. This was a while back actually and I haven't got a clue what was irritating me so much at that point. Something to do with acting like a deranged lunatic and playing ignorant about how annoying that can be at inopportune times like in the middle of a theatre production or at a funeral. But I can't guarantee that that was it.

It may have been chewing wet wool loudly in front of me or whistling or doing the Charleston backwards. I just don't remember.

If you've been bombarded by chain mail from people you really don't like.

If you are secretly superstitious and a completely gullable idiot,
please forward all your chain mail to (aw damn! I had to take it out but her name rhymes with Gracey).

Maybe include Bill Gates too so that he can donate 10c for every email
you send to the "Save Johnny from being beaten with hot apple pies"
fund.

Oh, anything religious would be great too. Maybe something along the
lines of "If you don't starve yourself for two weeks and just pray all
day and forward this to 250 people, you're going to hell. Send it to
273 people and God will forgive you all your sins". This should
ideally accompany a corny flash or powerpoint presentation with
sparkley pictures.

Then, a petition is definitely a must. Perhaps a "stop putting dog
food in our gravy powder" with the names of your aunt, your uncle, all
their cats and dogs, their children (including the 6 week old baby)
and all the names of your favourite superheroes too.
Please remember to copy in that guy you want to get fired and pretend
that he's that contact person.

Oh yes, vouchers! Pretty much the same as the petition. Maybe just add
some pretty piccies to add to all the excitement.

If you have any HUGE and random attachments to add, (pics of your
gran, of your teddy collection, of your ex just waking up, etc) send
them too.

And lastly, if asked nicely to stop and then later not so nicely,
don't even pay attention. You just keep going 'cause you never know if
you may just lose out.

If people would stop hoping for a pot of gold to fall out of the sky
and hit them on the head because they forwarded all this email
rubbish, they may have actually got some work done and earned it!

Anything to get out of studying

A cat is like a god. If you try to save the tiny mouse from the cat,
the cat will flick it's paw and make the tiny mouse run straight into
your bedroom.

You will then somehow reason that eating half a roll of bioplus sweets
will aid you in studying and prevent all paranoia of the mouse running
up your bed and nibbling at your sleeping body later on. Your
reasoning will be faulty.

You will secretly hope that the mouse will be different and, when
running up your chest towards your sleepy face, will stop and converse
in English. Or French. Or heck, even Zulu because this will make it
all better. Ideally, it should know and understand your study material
too but let's be realistic, a mouse wouldn't be interested in anything
unrelated to astronautical studies so that's just wishful thinking.

You devise a plan, since you've just found a talking mouse, that
benefits everyone. Well, almost everyone. Other house occupants
excluded. You run to your gran/mom/dad/sibling and shriek as loudly as
possible "WAKE UP! I have a talking mouse! His name is
Frederick/Jean-Pierre/Sipho!" (naturally, you should've asked after
"hello/bonjour/sawubona")

In my case, it would have no effect as such behaviour is almost
expected. But with you, no doubt that you will be excused from your
exam due to medical reasons and you can relax and take the time in the
institution to get off that bioplus high.

Genuine random ramblings that ramble randomly

I have a few major thoughts running through my head lately that eventually warrant me blurting them out to either a. myself in my car which could 1. cause an accident, 2. cause people to stare at me as if I have lost it or 3. no, that's all I had OR b. blurt it all out on here.

The first being that I seem to walk into work situations where things are a royal mess and I have to fathom what in the name of macaroni some dude before me was smoking to make him do these bizarre things. I feel like "The fixer". I'm used to it but I'd like prefer to be like "The keepingeverythingrunningsmoothly-er". I'd like to hire someone to kick those that came before me. Hiring of violent people is a good and healthy alternative to being violent yourself.

The second being that people in Gauteng suck. They suck because it's all about money and popularity and cosmetics. It's shallow and pretentious and people everywhere compete with you for stupid things, sometimes without you even knowing it.
For example, let's say you're a lawyer from Cape Town and the guy who sells ice-cream from his bicycle will brag to everyone else that the tread on his bicycle tyres lasted longer than the tread on your Toyota. Um, who cares! The chances are that you didn't even know there was a bicycle vs car tyre tread competition.

The second being inspired by the General Manager being in tears this morning because of some dude who uses her for information and leaves her feeling hurt and unwanted. It's not a guy/girl thing as much as it's a people thing. It's ruthlessly grabbing what you can and taking everything you can get and walking away and not looking back at what you've left behind. It grinds me.

The third is lists of qualities that people must have in order to be the "perfect girlfriend/boyfriend". What is that? How cold and unemotional!
Relationships are seldom based on logic alone and those that are are usually doomed for disaster.

Perhaps to a degree like "male, heterosexual, intelligent, etc" is fine but "Must collect comic books" and "must like to catch darting daggers in the summer rain" is a little extreme. But good luck to those to stick to such rigid requirements. Those people should probably not breed anyway.

The fourth is whether to wear shorts and a strappy top to work. We can wear whatever we like and I have my own office and don't leave it much but I'm not sure if even the blistering heat will allow me to get away with that.

The fifth is whether I should dye my hair blonde or leave it to grow out and stop dying it brown. I have an issue with having blonde hair and it makes me paranoid when people, especially men, bug me to dye it blonde.

The sixth is how I blog about really random stuff now and don't sit and give it thought and find pretty ways to word it all.

The seventh is that my friend had a lot of guts to go running down the road at 3am naked and jump into the hospital swimming pool while the lights were on.

I have work to do. Shalom.

Getting married

I can't believe that I'm engaged and getting married next year! It's a first for me :D

Any tips on how to have a wedding run as smoothly as possible would be most appreciated.

Also, any tips on getting your future hubby not to push you to stop dying your hair would be awesome too!

Idle hands make you drink more coffee

I don't do the devil's work, even if my hands are idle. I generally don't like to do other people's work as I'm usually pretty darn busy with my own. Why am I even saying this? Well, recently I was put into a position of power that I wasn't aware I had and it involved the devil.

My boss swears like a trooper. I find it very offensive but keep quiet and cringe and just carry on.

The other day, however, he told me that he was swearing way too much and needed to go back to church. He told me that it was my fault that he was swearing so much because I "had sent the devil after" him.

Now as far as I'm concerned, he is a little confused. Firstly, how can he (my boss) possibly be in two places at once and, if he was, why would he be after himself and , if he was, why would I send him there?

It reminded me of a dog chasing it's tail. I think dogs do those things if a) they've just discovered they have one, or b) because they have worms.

My boss is quite fat so I don't think he has worms. I think it's "a". Not that he has a tail that I'm aware of but I think he's got some sort of severe mental disorder that has him delusional and paranoid and with tiretts thrown in for extra effect. I think he caught it from his parrots as they swear like troopers too and try to eat my lunch. The devil's work indeed! Nobody eats my lunch unless they're evil!

Blah blah blah.

When boredom hits and there's no escape...

Please note: Content not suitable for sensitive or delusional readers.

It's getting late and I'm with Al at his office.

Before I was given access to a pc and the net and before I remembered that I had my mp3 player in my bag, I tried to keep myself entertained with interesting and amusing thoughts and occasionally I implemented a few.

They were along these lines:

- I tyed Alan's hair in tiny pigtails with different coloured hair elastics. Fun very briefly but it didn't last long and they were out.
- Alan's boss has the same colour complexion as a raw pork sausage. I pictured a frozen pork sausage with Alan's bosses face on it. It would blend so well that you would just believe that the pork sausage had a face. This made me want to laugh out aloud but I was forced to withhold my laughter as it would be rather awkward to explain, especially with Alan and his boss sitting in the same room.
- I imagined putting all sorts of weird things next to Alan in the bed when he's asleep and photographing them and putting them on Facebook. I've done one already; a wooden zulu head. Made it look like he was snuggling up to it. Not on FB yet though.
Did the same with my mom and a nectarine a while ago.
- I sat and chose a body part (this can vary every few minutes; bum, elbows, ankles, etc) and pretended that everything that they spoke about was about that specific body part. We did this in high school and it's very juvenile but when you're very bored and very tired, you'll be amazed at what you find entertaining.
- I drew a whole lot of veggies with faces and arms and legs and labelled them "Alan's lunch" on the back of his directions to his client.
- I imagined writing a blog post on why people really join internet dating sites but thought that I know too many people on internet dating sites who might read it and be very, very offended. Which they probably are moreso now having read that without any explanation. Perhaps one will follow one day.
- I remembered how fun it was to run away from the maths lecturer at college while he chased after us screaming "HEY!!" and eventually escaping by aiming the portable sprinkler at him.
I decided to write a post on ways to entertain yourself when you have no escape without thinking it through and without being in any sort of creative mood and it resulted in this.

Freaks of society

I would like to know why people think I'm into freaky sexual things! I
thought that I looked exceedingly innocent. This last episode,
however, takes the cake. Quite literally.

It was about a year ago when some dude emailed me asking me if he
could tie me up and spank me and show me the darker side of sex. It
turned out that he was a friend from dancing who didn't recognize my
photo. I wrote it off as a once-off.

Not long after that, a 20 year old woman asked me if I would be
interested in having a threesome with her. And the guy I was dating. I had, up until
that point, felt really sorry for her but not THAT sorry for her! Man
alive! On
Christmas day of all things.

O.k, so she was feeling vulnerable and lonely and very confused. It
had nothing to do with me.

Just as I was forgetting the freaks of this world, a guy who
accidentally rode over and killed a padestrian on the N1, asked if he
could come over and feed me cupcakes in my underwear! No, no, not ME
in MY underwear, HIM in MY underwear!! I am serious! I thought he was
joking and told him that I doubted that my underwear would fit him.
He, however, wasn't when he said that he would find a way to squeeze
into it. "The tighter the fit, the less likely you are to get crumbs
where you don't want them." he replied.

O.k, people, this is it now. I am worried that I have become a
freak-attractor!

In English they say "birds of a feather flock together" and in
Afrikaans it's "soort soek soort". Am I really the same as these
loons? What does that say about all of you then if we're friends? Are
you all waiting until I'm not on my guard to unleash your inner
freak?;) Is this all just a freak fest? Is that why we use the term
"freak out"?

I think I'm gonna get Mr Bondage to tie Mr Cupcake up and then tell
Ms. Threesome where to find them!

Dull vs Bitch

There is a saying that says that nice guys (or girls) finish last. This isn't always so but sadly seems to be a more and more frequent occurrence.

It was in a moment of frustration and bewilderment that I asked a prior-nice-guy why this was.
"Because nice is dull and not exciting." he matter-of-factly replied.

I've read about playing hard-to-get, about not giving too much too soon and about keeping your deep, dark, psycho problems to yourself for a long, long time because all these things drive people away.

But being nice? As in just being friendly is dull and unexciting? Is this specific to people with various psychological disorders (Martyr syndrome, S & M fetishes, attention seekers, etc) or really to the general population? Must I become abusive and demanding and condescending and just very nasty generally to stand a chance of being liked by someone "normal"?? Where does this madness end?

Do I haul out the whips and chains (or go and buy them) or will swearing and cursing do?
Do I belittle what they love dearly or will appendages and singing do?
Do I demand to be fed peeled grapes every night while I brush my hair or will washing the dishes do?

It doesn't explain the divorce rate. If people start fighting and being exciting and interesting, surely they would stay married? Is the divorce rate so high because people are too nice to each other? Oh heaven forbid your husband or wife treats you with respect and love! Your relationship is doomed!

So, grab that rolling pin/golf club/toilet brush and work on your relationships before it's too late!