Riding the Slipstream

Whoo…!! Friday again and I am feeling a tad miserable. Well I am not exactly miserable, but I am not looking forward to the weekend… this being the highly overrated and much dreaded month-end weekend. Which is kind of strange, seeing as we got paid… yesterday. Yeah, the salary is in the bank and I now have more money than I know what to do with. Hahaha… and if you believe that, I suggest you put down that zol (joint) you've been smoking and come back down to earth! Come to think of it… it is this very money that is the source of my discontent. I never seem to have enough of it and that which I earn has already been earmarked for paying bills such as the utilities, buying food, car payments, petrol, credit card payments, etc… yeah all the necessary trappings that make my life possible. Fuckit… just for once I wish that my earnings can remain in my bank account for a little while longer than necessary and that the things I absolutely have to pay account for less than half of what I earn. I hate parting with my money. I earned it and want to spend it on fun things like I used to when I was younger and not tied down by responsibility. Apparently, earning more money is also not the solution, because the more you earn, I am given to believe, the more extravagant your lifestyle becomes and the nature of your expenses increases proportionally. Damn... welcome to the vicious cycle and earning and spending and discontent. “Let me tell you son”, my Dad used to say (after he had his 5th glass of whiskey), “You can never have enough money and even when you think you have enough, there is always more to be made”. Yeah, dad... great advice… I think your forgot the part where money does not necessarily equal happiness and content. On second thought, these days you may just be able to do just that. Everything has a price... I tell you! Aahh, I suppose I could budget and spend more wisely, but where is the fun in that?! Anyway… enough of my pondering for now. I’ve got to get rid of the gloom, put on my Friday afternoon fun-guy face and live for the moment. I am meeting the mates later this afternoon at the pub… yep… things are guaranteed to look a lot better after the 3rd glass. (wink wink) Bottoms up!

Radio DJ wins $10.6 million in stink over perfume

The verdict awarded her $7 million in punitive damages, $2 million in mental anguish and emotional distress and $1.6 million for past and future compensation after a six-woman jury in U.S. District Court in Detroit spent eight days deliberating. Weber claimed exposure to Tresor caused her to lose her voice and take lengthy absences from work. She also said she once "felt an electric shock quell through my entire body" and required heavy medication to combat the effects.

One of the few joys of being an uncle is that you are always the cooler than the parents. But that coolness comes with strings attached, as I recently came to understand. My nephew Keenan is 12 years old and just at that age where he is starting to notice that girls are well… more than mere playmates. Aaahh… I remember the good old days… when I was an angst-ridden hormonal freak… too young to be a man and too old to be a mere boy. Thank God those days are over! Now from my experience I know that boys will leave it until the last minute to get help and that it takes a lot more to get them to talk than girls. So when me nephew came to speak to me about a little problem he has with a girl… I knew that it was serious… to him at least. I know as little about women today as when I myself was 12 years old. But I have lrealised that half the things I worried about when I was a teen rarely ever came to be and looking back, I wish that I had been less anxious and had learnt to laugh at life and my problems more. That’s hindsight for you… hehehe. His problem; There is a girl that he really likes, but is too shy to speak to her. He is scared he will make a fool of himself and that she won’t like him. He reckons his buddies are far more adapt (aren’t they always?) at speaking to girls and he is scared that if word got out that he is too scared to talk to girls, they might think that he is not cool and a loser. What should he do? Oy..!! I am prolly the last person he should be asking for advice. I still get a little nervous when I am around women and discover and learn new things about them every day. My first reaction was to make light of the situation and get him to talk to his parents instead. Sounded like a good plan, but I also realised that this could be one of those situations where a little humour would do more damage than good. And besides, I am his uncle dammit and I wanted the boy to feel that he can come to me whenever he needed advice or someone to talk to. I am such a hero! So here’s what I told him: Firstly, his mates are not as good at talking to girls as they pretend to be. Boys of their age, rarely are. They are just as nervous as he is and too worry that they may say stupid things. Secondly, girls don’t necessarily expect or want a boy who is super-smooth and always says the right things. If they do, then perhaps they are a little weird themselves. Thirdly, not to worry too much about the talking part and rather concentrate on being a good listener. Being listened to is something everyone, including the girl he really likes, finds flattering. And if he doesn’t worry about it, confidence and talking will come naturally. Fourthly, you are never going to get all the girls you want. Some girls will like you back while others won’t. The trick, I told him, is not to take it too personally, not to lose hope and not to spend too much time thinking about what could have been. I wonder if what I said to him makes any sense and if the advice is any good at all. For what it’s worth, it came from the heart and I really want to see the kid fit in and enjoy life. Did I navigate the slipstream?!

Liverpool's miraculous 3-2 victory over AC Milan in the UEFA Champions League makes me very happy. It does!!

In a creepy post to his journal, Simon Ng posted about how a visitor to his house made him feel uncomfortable and hoped he would leave soon. A couple of hours later Simon and his older sister were dead, murdered by the visitor. Read more in Newsday. Link via: Drakk

It is 12 PM and I am outta here. Fuggit... I have an appointment at the Department of Home Affairs, a place I like to refer to as the The Great Equaliser. No matter who you are… rich, poor, big, small, man woman, chlid… you become but a mere set of numbers when you walk into a Home Affairs office. My appointment, and I use the term lightly, can take anything from 1 to 5 hours depending on how many asses I am willing to kiss and how desperate I am to get what I want. Hell, I could be there until my next birthday.

• Can't find the right word? You might want to start moving your hands. New research at the University of Alberta suggests that gesturing while you talk may improve your access to language.

Ha... I am not totally convinced. People always claim that they do not understand me, and I look like a traffic officer at a busy intersection when I speak. Yet, having said that…some hand gestures speak volumes… no words needed. I like those.

More: Hand Gestures Linked To Better Speaking

• Next time they call it a box office hit… consider this: ...nowadays, as dazzling as the "boffo," "socko," and "near-record" figures may seem to the media and other number fetishists, they have little real significance other than to measure the effectiveness of the studios' massive expenditures on ads.

  More: Forget about the box office.

Monday afternoon and all is still well in the realm of the 9-2-5 slaves. Best of all, I am still smiling. I had me quite a memorable weekend. My Friday night at the movies was great and I felt like a teenager again. Yeah, I was the wide-eyed 20-something year old with the big grin and the adrenalin high... hehe. The movie did not disappoint, but I am not going to bore you with yet another boring review. Suffice it to say that special effects and fight scenes were outta this bloody world, the story was fantastic, my questions got answered and despite some mediocre acting, the coolness factor was well... ice cool. I give it an 8/10. In the words of the inimitable Master Yoda, "Done well, George Lucas has". I went to a party at a friend's on Saturday night. It was a great party. I drank too much, which is almost nothing by anyone’s standards, but that comes as no surprise or cause for concern. Compared to some of the people who were there I am a lightweight and merely a baby when it comes to the quantity I can consume. Anyway, my friend Josh had an accident courtesy of too many shooters and an assortment of jelly shots. He managed to fall out of a tree in the backyard and broke his leg in the process. How he got up the tree in the first place is beyond me, but I have to on good authority that it involved a certain girl and a displaced sense of machismo. Jackass! We had to take him to the hospital where they patched up and sent him home. Luckily for him the alcohol had the desired numbing effect and he suffered very little pain, if any at all … which was a bit of an anti-climax for the sadist in me. If you are going to disrupt a good party and if you are stupid enough to fall out of a tree I want to see you writhing pain. Act if you have to… milk it for what it’s worth… but make it worthwhile, dammit. On Sunday spent the day reacquainting myself with my Canon Rebel XT (Canon EOS 350D). It is a truly remarkable little camera with many great features and custom functions. I took about a fifty great shots and will process them with the help of the digital software on my pc. Sad thing is my printer has packed up and I cannot get the blue cartridge to work. I tried to print one or two pics and they were all tinted a horrible “barbie” pink. I have neglected my interest in photography which is a shame and I should actually post some of my pictures on here. Should be good for a few giggles at least!

Well it is Friday and guess where I will be tonight? Yep, the gf and I bought tickets and are going to watch Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith. Why do you ask? Well, if truth be told, I am somewhat of a Sci-Fi geek and I enjoy movies in this genre. Besides, I know my shit when it comes to Star Wars. I know the plot, the characters … the Sith, the Jedi, Anakin, Padmé, Yoda, Obi-Wan, Trade Federation and Separatists, C-3P0, R2-D2, the wookiees, etc… yeah, I know the lingo, the who’s who and the what’s what in this cult epic. We all know how Star Wars end, seeing as George saw fit to go about this in an arse about face fashion. The sequels were made way back in the days and everything that follows after Episode III is old news. But there are many burning questions regarding the characters and the plot that need answering and goddammit I want to know what the answers are!! I have long ago learnt not to over-analyze.... it is a killjoy. What’s the deal with going to the movies when you analyze every single nuance/facet and forget to enjoy the flick for what it is? However, I have read that the critics are united on this one. Episode III is in fact better than the other two prequels – yep, that is the beat on the street. I am of the opinion that they, the critics, are just glad that whole Star Wars saga has finally come to an end and decided to be more forthcoming in their reviews. 'Cause if they aren’t George Lucas may just come back with a fourth episode… hehehe. Whatever the reason, I am going to see it and to those wet blankets who jumped on the "let us dis Star Wars" bandwagon… chill out bro, who fuckin’ cares!

I realise this is an old one, but I could not resist posting it. I come undone every time I see this City Lodge ad.

I am a relatively easy going person and there are few things that I am not ok with. Life and people are so diverse and something does not necessarily become bad or evil because it is not for you. Nor are we at liberty to condemn those who are different to us. Now when I say I am easy, I do not mean that I am a slacker. I do not allow ppl to walk all over me nor am I incapable of standing up for my beliefs. I am merely stating that I do not stand in judgment of other people and their lifestyles. I am rarely prejudiced and I will not grandstand or shove my beliefs down the throats of others. Yet, I realise that there are people who do so on a regular basis. They consider them morally and intellectually superior to the rest of us. They always know better and are hardly ever wrong. I hate people like this. I hate their self indulgent, narrow-minded, sanctimonious views on life. I hate mostly how they look at you when you dare disagree with them. You know that look… the one with the raised eyebrow that makes you feel like you crawled from the gutter and that you pollute the air just by being there. Bastards… I ran into someone like that at work today. A few of us were in the tea-room and somehow the conversation drifted to lifestyles. Now the workplace is hardly the place for a convo like this, but I had a viewpoint, so added my two cents. What a friggin enormous mistake that was! You see my perspective was in direct opposition to Mrs. holier-than-thou’s point of view. This meant that I qualified to receive the look…. which I duly did. And boy did I get a good one! I think she reserves for special occasions, because it was a piss-in-your-pants-and-crawl-back-into-your-hole-out-of-the-ball-bark masterpiece. But that's not all... next I was the proud recipient of a half an hour tirade on the decay of the moral fiber of modern society, complete with quotations from The Bible and other religious dogma and who knows what else. I tried to space out but I was so in awe of this person’s arrogance and self-imposed superiority that I simply had to stay and listen. It was the kind of performance people get awards for. At the end of her tirade, I countered with observations of my own which only served to outrage my nemesis even more. Seeing as this was not going to lead anywhere, I bit my tongue and excused myself. (Harumph, so much for 38 ways to win a bloody argument...hehehe) As I walked away, she made a snide remark about me to the others while I was still within earshot. Now anyone is entitled to something as weighty as an opinion, but a snide remark does not count as one. The words, “You fucking narrow-minded bitch! Why don’t you take your stupid fucking opinion and show it up your self-righteous ass?” effortlessly rolled from my lips before I could stop them. Neither shouted nor screamed... just said it. I knew I should not have lost my cool the minute I said it. Her jaw dropped and she let out a hissing sound. Hehehe... must have been the sound of her enormous ego deflating. It was too late to apologise… and perhaps if it had been someone else, I would have. Of course she has now filed a grievance against me and we have a meeting with HR later this afternoon. Man, there is no way I am getting away on this one. I lost my temper and now I am going to have to pay the price. On the bright side… I don’t think I don’t think she will ever talk to me again. Fuggit!

Thirty - Eight Ways to Win an Argument I like to "win" an argument as much as the next person does, but some of these are a bit over the top, don't you agree? Still, never one for allowing my prejudices to get the better of me, I would like to try out a number of these on a few unsuspecting people (brothers, sisters, bosses, co-workers and strangers) just to see what the effect would be and what they could lead to. Call it research if you like... (big smile). I have seen some of these in action and it never ceases to amaze me the lengths people will go to to make a point. And yeah I am guilty as charged, but you suspected that all along didn't you?

I have in the past two weeks seen numerous articles following the publication of Newsweek's bogus report on the flushing of the Koran down the toilet. The report resulted in an international firestorm and sparked angry and violent protests across the Muslim world from Afghanistan, where 16 were killed and more than 100 injured, to Pakistan to Indonesia to Gaza. In the past week it was also condemned in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh, Malaysia and by the Arab League. This raises the question… yet again, “How much of what is reported in the media can be trusted and where to from here?” Here are the perspectives of two blogs on the Newsweek debacle. Makes for interesting reading - you decide.

• Gates of Vienna - A letter to the editor of Newsweek
• Belmont Club - Not good enough

Fantasy and reality should never be allowed to meet! And if by some unavoidable happenstance they do happen to meet... fantasy should always prevail over reality. Trust me on this one – I am going to be in therapy for at least the next ten years. Either that or I will use what has happened to get a million laughs out people for generations to come. (think filthy stinking rich!) I don’t know how this happened to go "wrong" for me, but it just did. Ha.. even I can see somewhat of a pattern starting to develop here. Not that I suffer from delusions of grandeur or lose touch with reality on a regular basis... hehe... its just one of those things I always wanted to do and things did not quite work out as I hads planned. It is actually incredibly funny (at least a 10/10) and had I not been on the receiving end of this particular incident... I could see myself doubling over with laughter for a least the next few days, perhaps even longer. What sucks is that in my fantasy I always come out on top and feel like a million dollars. But that is the thing with fantasies, innit... you control the outcome and steer your thoughts in the direction you want them to go. The reality is a far cry from that and just about the only thing I can hope for it is that I can erase the memory from my subconscious... forever… scrape it out with a spatula and dispose of it in a hot metal furnace. Oi, I am the friggin poster boy for adventure and rude awakenings! Tomorrow I will have one of those ordinary days.... and if I don't.... well I'll just have to hold on and enjoy the ride. I tell myself it is all about perspective. Never a dull moment, I tell 'ya.

“Could you be any less supportive”, she yelled to me as I looked at her with a surprised look on my face. (First thought... Of course I could be, but that would make it so bloody obvious and we don't want to be obvious, do we now?) Let’s face it… I had not heard a word she had said to me nor had I any interest what she was busy telling me. I tried my best to feign an interest, because I thought talking to me meant something to her and I wanted to be supportive and be a good friend… but there is only much a guy can take until boredom in its purest form sets in and gets the better of you. Thereafter… only white noise… It is kinda embarrassing though when you are caught out or when you are expected to say something or comment in return and you have nothing to add. Nada! You can try and throw in the occasional yes, no and uh-huh during the conversation… and they may work 9 times out of 10, but sooner or later you will be required to say something more meaningful and that is when you fall flat on your face. I remember once saying to a friend, “Oh that is nice”. In the meantime he was in the middle of telling me about an emotional incident that had happened between him and his gf. Damn… I guess I came across as an insensitive asshole but, “for God’s sake laddie, if you expect me to pay attention, lets make it tad more interesting, shall we?” Does this make me a selfish SOB? If I can add up the time wasted on pretending to care about something or to be with it for the sake of being supportive, I am sure I will live an extra 5 years... at least. Hehe…. I am not good at faking it… but then again… not everything can be of equal importance to all of us. Sometimes you aren’t the person somebody has to talk to and doing the polite thing only means doing something at the expense of yourself. So drifting off kind of evens things out a little bit, don’t you think? That said I have to learn to care about the important things, even when they aren’t necessarily mine.

I have an intense irrational fear of dead people. It is not your normal, “I don’t like dead people" reaction... my fear borders on the goddamn psychotic. How did I get to be like this? Well, pull up an easy chair… light up a cigarette or, whatever your poison is, and let me tell you how it came about. When I was 11 years old my mother’s aunt Millie died. I remember Aunt Millie as a stern-faced humourless old hag who rarely smiled. She scared the bejesus out of my siblings and me every time she came to visit. Thankfully it was not that often… but it was often enough for us to dislike her. Anyway, she died and the whole friggin family had to attend the funeral. It was one of those open-coffin funerals and we all had to walk up to the coffin in single file and pay our last respects. Oh yeah! Who in the name of God makes up these scary rituals? Now if you thought that I was scared of her when she was alive, it was nothing compared to the fear I felt growing in the pit of my stomach as I was made to walk up to the coffin. I prolly would have pee-ed my pants and only my own childlish sense of pride and dignity prevented me from doing it. I tried all sorts of dumb excuses… I feigned tummy ache, extreme grief, threw a bloody tantrum, but my "we-have-to-keep-appearances" mother would have none of it. I could hardly breathe and I somehow had this terrifying vision that Aunt Millie would reach out from inside the coffin and take hold of me as I filed past. Yep… too much television and too may scary movies makes for a very active imagination when you are 11. Anyway… I finally got to the coffin. My mom’s ahead of me, followed by yours truly, and then the rest of the family. As I rounded the coffin and looked down on Aunt Millie’s very dead face, the world seemed to stop. My mouth was dry and I was by now as pale as a bowl of left-over porridge. My mom, prolly thinking that she would help me overcome my fear, took my hand and before I could stop her, touched it to the cold forehead of my dead aunt. Oh noooooo….. That was it... I went stiff and froze on the spot. After an eternity, I somehow managed to pull my hand from my mother’s grasp. And in doing so, I lost me balance and staggered backwards, all the while making a high pitched moan in the back of my throat. I knocked over the vase of white lilies that stood behind to the coffin. And man… did those lilies scatter! I think Aunt Millie scared the bejesus out of them too. And then I scarpa'd… down the aisle and straight for the church door, much to the amusement of my older siblings. Mom and Dad stood there… horrified… but there was nothing they could do, I was down that aisle as if ten thousand demons were chasing me. They found me hiding behind a tree at the back of the church… still in shock. Dad bribed me with sweets… hehe… they made me forget about Aunt Millie. Up till today, I still struggle with going to funerals. I know my fear is irrational and that I should get over it, but until then make sure there is a bottle of tequila or some lithium for me at the door of the church. Screw the therapy… hehehe… drugs and alcohol are much more fun.

Found this while scouring the Net during my tea/coffee break. Innit strange the things you will find when you aren't looking for anything in particular? Anyway, these two "stories" appealed to my own wacky sense of humour. I had such a good laugh, I think I may have a permanent coffee stain on my left lung. Link: Ask Katy

When a woman flirts with you, is it ok to flirt back when you are in a relationship? What about flirting in the workplace? Is there a right way to do it, a wrong way? Good idea, bad idea? Innocent, or deceitful? My sister reckons I am walking on dangerous ground and that thinking it is as good as doing it. I struggle with what she means by “doing it”. I didn’t even want to ask, because I knew we were going to end up in philosophical debate and that is more than what I was in the mood for. Nevertheless, it sounded a bit harsh to me and I feel she is way ahead of me on this particular one. OK... I can see the need for caution; I also see flirting as charming and an honest expression of interest in others… that is if you can keep it lighthearted and without serious intent. On the other hand, I am a guy and although I am not on the lookout for more, making the leap from lighthearted to not-so-lighthearted can happen in a heartbeat. Communication between men and women is at best a corpse-ridden minefield and it is easy to misinterpret what is being said or done. I also know that most things in life will start out as innocent, yet before you know it you are knee-deep in the poo, guilt-ridden and wallowing in self pity. Fuck… I hate not knowing the answers. I am known for biting off more than I can chew and perhaps I am better off leaving things the way they are. But... Ooohhh… I so like playing with the other kids… Damn!

If anyone… and I honestly do mean a-n-y-o-n-e uses the phrase “just not that into you” in my presence ever again… I am going puke my guts out and then step in front of a speeding truck or anything that will cause my body to shatter into a gazillion pieces. Now I do get the big hoo-farkin-haa that is this “new” relationship-defining phenomenon... I do. What I do not need, is to be reminded of it every single day, do I?. And yes, I have seen Sex and the City and seen the book in my local bookstore and I have seen it discussed on Oprah... and yes… from the little I have seen it sounds quite sensible and I am so bloody happy that women finally understand that all men are simpletons(?) and that they now have something new to gossip about to and fill those meaningless moments around the water cooler at the office. But, does this catch phrase have to be used by people, and I by this I mean mainly women, to define every single facet of every single relationship? Are things really that simple as “he is just not that into you”? A few years back it was “Men are from Mars and women are from Venus”. Morons used that phrase at every covenient opportunity… regardlessless of the circumstances... even by those who have not read the book and prolly had no idea what it was all about. But it was the cool phrase to use and who cares whether you know or don't know… it is so obvious… the phrase said it all! I bloody don’t know whether life and relationships are that easily bottled, and right now, I don’t care either… tomorrow there’ll be something new and it will be the new "eureka” in the eternal battle of the sexes. I also do not know what happened to all the other things we knew about relationships before the advent of this book. It seems the entire world completely forgot the dynamics of relationships or perhaps all that knowledge is captured in these 5 words. What I do know is that a few select people are making a shitload of money from this. So, will someone please put an end to the irresponsible throwing around of these 5 relationship blanketing words that is sweeping the globe. I know I overreact and I sound like a raving lunatic in writing this… but life at the office is an absolute hell… every body suddenly became an expert. Peeve: Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo Peeve: Oprah Peeve: That episode of Sex and the City Peeve: Fad following drones

These guys have some crazy ideas on how to "hack, mod, and pimp the hoo-ha out of" the iPod Shuffle. Sounds like a whole lot a'fun to me, but then again, don't dare take my word for it... check their blog. Takes all sorts to make the world interesting.

I lied to my boss today in what can only be described as one of my finer moments. It is not that I wanted to lie, but circumstances called for some quick thinking and lying was the only way I knew how. Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction and there are the odd occasions when lying through your fucking teeth is most definitely the better choice. He would have roasted my ass had I told him what had really happened. It was an extremely awkward, yet exhilarating moment for me and one I would hope not to relive... soon. I felt as transparent as a pane of glass and it seemed as if the boss and everyone else in the room could see right through me. And although I hardly ever blush, for a moment there it felt like my face was on fire. It must have been my imagination, because blushing would have been a dead give-way and judging from the reactions, everyone seemed to believe me. Phew... However… sigh… lying, as does all the other good stuff, always comes at a price and I now have some work to do in order to cover up my dastardly deed. So I guess I will have to spend an extra few hours at the office tonight. Oh, the lenghts I would go to to cover up my deceit ... hahaha. But, it is well worth it in this case. The truth would not have been understood and I was not definitely NOT ready to go down in a blaze of fire. Not today… Lying may rarely be justifiable, which of course is matter of opinion, but saving your bacon and sparing others the embarrassment of having to deal with your mistakes… may just make it worthwhile. I am such a trooper... GW and Blair could not have done a better job!

My best friend’s girlfriend is my girl friend’s best friend. It is one of those weird things… boy meets girl… and girl introduces her best friend to boy’s best friend and before you know it… they are a couple too. (Yes, I know... it is so "sweet" it makes you want to barf... hehe). Now, on the surface this may sound pretty cool, but how much time should you spend together before it is considered to be enough? I am a little freaked by the symbiotic(?) foursome routine we have going on – the gf on the other hand thinks it is good. I quietly resend the amount of time we all spend together. I would like to spend more time be alone with the gf or even get to spend time with my best friend... I need freedom... I need to break away from the group... meet new people… push my limits of my existence. I am afraid that unless we make some changes soon and break out of this prison we have built around ourselves, we will suffocate one another and the relationships, and perhaps the friendships, are doomed to fail. What is a guy to do....!

My sis just called and invited me to lunch on Sunday – it being Muvvers Day... an' all. (My reaction - "Oh yes... Oh boy... Oh no!!!") Do I appreciate how Mothers Day has turned into one humungous commercial exploitation of sons and daughters the world over? EMPHATICALLY NOT - but then let me be the first to admit I do not show my mom nearly enough how much I love and care about her, nor do I give her half the credit I know she deserves. So from that perspective, I appreciate a day being put aside as it allows knobbits like me to do the right thing. It allows me to stand still and take time out from my programmed, self-gratifying(?) life and pay attention to a remarkable person. This day, regardless of the modern-day commercialism that has evolved around it, is an opportunity for ill-tempered sons like me to step into the limelight and make a special effort for a special person. My earliest memory of me mom is when I was about 3 years old (I called her mommy back then... hehehe). Every morning I would sneak into my parents' bedroom and hide under the tousled covers on their bed before she made it up. She would pretend not to see me (but as we all know muvvers have x-ray eyes and nothing ever escapes them). I would jump out from under the covers and scare the hell out of her... or at least that is what I thought I did. Sometimes I would become entangled in the sheets and not make it out from under the covers and she would have to help me out. Nevertheless, I would squeal with laughter and my mother would fake near-death surprise. Then she would pick me up and pretend to be angry at me and tickle me until I begged for her to stop. Yep, I was pretty lame when I was 3 years old and... I still am. Of course now I hide under the covers and "scare" my gf… but that is a different exercise altogether. (Ouch, ouch, ouch - I cannot believe that I just made the leap from a childhood memory to a bedroom antic.) Anyway… so being the formidable last-minute shopper I am, I will have to get to the mall tomorrow and find something I know she will like. Flowers, perhaps gooi (throw) in a box of chocolates? Dunno yet… I’ll let the spirits guide me.

I didn't get much sleep last night (yawn). My eyes hurt as if they had been blasted with coarse grit and then rubbed down with sandpaper. I am not sure that I qualify to be called a chronic insomniac, but I do sleep badly and that is a major downer. My mother would say,” You are not sleeping well because you are haunted by your unforgiven sins.” Jirre ma, I don’t know if that is true, because if it were… Thabo and his entire Cabinet must not have had a good night’s sleep since the late nineties. Why… Bush would practically walk in his sleep! It is amazing how time, something we normally never have enough of, can come to a complete halt between 1am and 5am. All time fuse into one long, never-ending, clock-stopping hour in the early hours of the morning. 1am to 5am is also the time the brain becomes fully capable of re-enacting entire conversations you have had with dull people during the day, when it is able to relive an entire television program, can go completely ballistic about the hot girl at the office, will painstakingly, and in detail, draft a complete business plan and can compose an hour long speech and put together eulogies for every person who has ever died… on the entire face of the planet! I am the literary fuckin' genius of the early morning hours. To hell with the ergonomically designed pillow, the glass of warm milk or herbal tea, the lengthy books and novels, counting sheep or beautiful maidens skipping along a winding country road… insomnia has its own evil master plan. And for reasons unknown, you are the center piece to this dastardly plan. I wish it was possible for one to make good use of this much maligned and wasted time slot. But how much illicit fun can one person truly have by them self… and how much mischief anyone can get up to when the rest of the world (not quite!) is sound asleep? There is nothing to do really, but dribble the hours away, roll from side to side and potter around the dark house. Ever noticed how eerily friggin quiet are houses at 3am in the morning? And when sleep finally arrives… it is usually around 30 minutes before the alarm clock goes off. It is strange how and alarm clock can be both friend and foe depending on the circumstances. My brother, on the other hand, can fall asleep in the blink of an eye… I kid you not. The one moment he is talking to you and the next… poof... he is gone… in lah-lah land or the land of erotic fantasies or whatever he calls it. He does not even half to put his head on a pillow nor does he need a bed for that matter. And by my last count he is far more sinful than I could ever hope to be… I envy him. He and others like him should die a slow and painful death... God knows, I have composed eulogies for each and every one them. It would be a real shame to let them go to waste.

Dated: Thu 3 Oct 2002 - THE world’s funniest joke was unveiled by scientists today at the end of the largest study of humour ever undertaken. For the past year people around the world have been invited to judge jokes on an internet site as well as contribute quips of their own. The LaughLab experiment conducted by psychologist Dr Richard Wiseman, from the University of Hertfordshire, attracted more than 40,000 jokes and almost two million votes. And the joke which received the highest global rating - submitted by 31-year-old psychiatrist Gurpal Gosall from Manchester - Read it here and here. My opinion: Back in 2002, these guys had waaayyyy...waaaayyyy... too much time on their hands. I hope they got paid in bags of giggles and laughter. The joke's funny though... very funny...hehehe.

"This is incredibly frustrating," Bush told reporters Tuesday. "Not only does this guy have my credit-card information, he has my Social Security number, all my personal information, and the launch codes for a number of ballistic intercontinental nuclear missiles. I almost don't want to think about it." "I feel so violated," Bush added.

"I count myself lucky," says the driver, Francico Paque, 42, who was asleep in his cabin earlier when masked militants blew a hole in his diesel tank with a shotgun and set the leaking fuel on fire.

"If I hadn't been woken by the explosion I could have burnt to death where I lay," he says.

More here...

Sacre bleu - que pourrait dire Sartre?

Today , I am reminded, is "World Press Freedom Day" Hahaha... somebody has to let Lucy Kibaki, Kenya's First Lady (and her security detail) know what it means!

Four days(!) away from work and I feel like a lotto winner... Whoo-hoo! What a sloth am I?! Neither the pile of work related e-mails in my inbox nor the stack of paperwork on my desk can put a dent in my enthusiasm. I am back and I am quite content to sit on my pile of dung, thank you very much... hehehe. The tumor that started to develop in my humour over the past few of weeks has been exorcised. I am walking around with the smile of a guy who just had three-way sex with the Hilton sisters. My gf says I am an impulse buyer. I don’t know if she is right… well actually, I do not want her to be right, but I have to admit that when I see something I like, I will most likely buy it. I tend to make my decisions to buy in a complete bloody vacuum… and I know ppl who reckon that that is an apt description of who I am. Of course the impulse buying also means that I will never become filthy rich and that I have a lot of stuff I do not really need, despite how cool they are. I would prolly be better off putting my money to work for me than spending it callously. I have yet to make a "hugely disastrous" financial decision (touch wood!), but if I keep on doing what I’m doing, it is going to happen sooner or later. I am happy with my current independent-and-not-yet-broke status and I have made provision for when I grow old and feeble and can no longer control the bodily functions. Yeah… ok… lets erase that image from my long-term memory. My weakness… GADGETS, electronic and otherwise… which explains why I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the world we live in. I cannot stop myself… I see a cool new friggin little gadgetry thingy and I think to myself... ”hey, I've gots to get me one a'those babies.” And then I buy it. I am like an animal being lead around by my goddamn nose. And I know I am not alone in this… there are many guys like me out there. Gadget freaks! Agonising over a purchase for too long takes the fun out of buying... a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g. My thoughts would paralyse me, make me feel guilty and that would basically make me a very unhappy chappie. When one begrudges a purchase, it is best to let it go. Even if are able you can get past the initial guilt… chances are you won't get any joy from using it. So I have learnt to ignore the little voice of reason in my head, to grab it by the throat and strangle the very life out of it… which is quite a feat as I normally think waaayyy too much. I reckon if I should ever get the urge to take it one step further and with the current gf... the days of ignorant financial bliss will be over… which may or may not be a good thing. Point is… I could become one unhappy critter and that definitely puts a tick in the negative column next to the gf’s name. Or maybe I suffer from commitment phobia and I am using this as a lame excuse? Don’t much care about it for now though… I'm just happy to be happy.