That's just how I Rickroll.

Rick Astley. I was a fan.

Back in the day I remember saving up all my pocket money to go out and by his record. Yeah, like I said, it was back in the day.

His song, Never Going To Give You Up, was a big hit in 1985. Some say he was just a one hit wonder, but much like Chuck Norris and Riaan Cruywagen, he's one of those stars that just keeps on giving (whether he likes it or not).

Rickrolling is a popular internet phenomenon. Basically it's when you lure someone in to watch something, and just as they think they're about to get an eyeful of Chuck Norris doing a roundhouse kick, or Justin Bieber singing, or one of the Kardashian sister's beavers, suddenly on comes Rick Astley singing his hit, and then my friend, you have been Rickrolled.

This caught my eye on the interweb today:

Click to enlarge

It's classic ginga.

Here's another one:

Boom! Big Man upstairs, you've been Rickrolled.

And lastly:

Yes, he's everywhere.

The tribe has spoken

Anyone who knows me know's what a big survivor fan I am.
And what a little Juju fan I am.

So to my mind this is the best thing I've seen this week. I know, I know, it's ony Monday, but c'mon, it doesn't get better than this.

(I found it on facebook via Brand Sniper Humour)

Just don't ask

I'm posting Sunday's column, which means this must be a Monday. *tries to crawl back to bed, unsuccessfully*

A MILLION MILES FROM NORMAL – By Paige Nick
QUESTIONS THAT START WITH; SOOOOO?

I just bumped into a friend I haven’t seen for ages. We chatted, the usual pleasantries. Eventually it rolled around to that inevitable place of all conversations:

ME: Soooo are you still seeing that guy?

HER: Yes I am.
ME: Wow that’s fantastic. You’ve been together for a while now, haven’t you? Two years, right?
HER: Three actually.
ME: He seems really nice. *Pause*
HER: And the answer to your next question is no, we're not getting engaged yet.
ME: *Falling all over myself* No I wasn’t going to ask that, really I wasn't.

Although in actual fact I kind of was. Which is ridiculous because I absolutely hate it when people do that to me, and there I was doing it myself.

It’s not my fault, I’m blaming the human condition for this one. For some reason we just like things neat and tidy. We may not even be aware of it, but there’s a specific order to life, that subconsciously gives us some form of comfort. And whether we like to admit it or not, if people don't follow that preordained order, it can make our heads explode a little.

For example, when people find out that I'm in my mid-thirties, still single and don’t have any children or any intentions to have any, it really seems to bother them. In fact if I had ten Rand for every person who has told me they are going to pray for me to find a husband and have babies, I'd have enough cash to pay for my own Lobola and a year’s supply of nappies.

Usually I tell them not to waste a good prayer on me, Somalia and Sarah Palin need it way more than I do.

I recently heard some great news, a wonderful couple I know who have been together for some years, just announced their engagement. I'm willing to bet every Hail Mary I've ever received that even though they really are the most perfect soul mates who were always meant to be together, I'm sure one of the reasons they finally decided to call it, is so that people would just stop flipping asking them already.

But unfortunately they’ve fallen into a classic trap, because this is only just the beginning. What none of us realise is that it’s just never quite enough.

When you’re single, everyone wants to know when you’re going to meet someone.

Then when you meet someone, everyone wants to know when you’re getting engaged. Then it’s when are you setting a date?  Then at the wedding everyone is already wondering how long till you have a baby. And after baby number one gets squeezed out, then when is baby number two coming? Come on, buck up, get a move on, we’ve got a schedule to keep here, people!

These questions usually come after a very prolonged ‘soooooo’ containing way more ‘oh’s’ than is ever necessary. That’s how you know the question is coming. Sooooo, how’s your sex life? Soooo, who are you dating now? Sooo when are you getting engaged? And on, and on.

Just last year at the launch of my latest novel, This Way Up, at least five people asked me; Soooo, what are you working on? When is the next one coming out? Jeez people! You haven’t even read this one yet, what’s the rush? 

The same friend from paragraph one, who caught me out about to ask the dreaded question, tells me it all finally reached a head when she was at a wedding with her boyfriend recently and an elderly couple at their table went in with their Soooo. ‘Soooo, are we going to see you at your wedding next?’ They asked.

‘No,’ my friend said, spurred on by a bottle and a half of JC Le Roux, ‘Are we going to see you at your funeral next?’

We’re all hoping they were a little on the deaf side and they didn’t quite catch what she said.  

In which Paige gets a little spank by a little stick

I consider myself lucky.

My first book was published in 2010, and my second in 2011, and I've had really nice reviews in the media for both books all along, many of which I've posted right here. But...

...today I got my very first not so nice review. Or 'stick' as they call it.

One must take the good with the bad, right?

and

You can't please all the people all the time.

and

At least someone read my book.

are the three thoughts that instantly come to mind.

Closely followed by...

...wait, I'm sure the reviewer, Ulrike, is my friend on Facebook.

Bwahahahahahahaha....

So to be fair, since I show you all the good, I thought I'd best show you all the bad too. Here it is:

click to enlarge

Let's hope if you haven't bought the book yet, it makes you rush out to buy it to see if you think she's right about it or not.

Happy weekend all.

A conversation with myself

ME: Hey Paige?
MYSELF: Yes Paige?
ME: Where the fuck have you been? You haven't blogged since Monday?
MYSELF: I'm sorry but I've been flippen' busy and stuff.
ME: That's just not good enough. You'd better write something funny, fast!
MYSELF: What did your last slave die of, exhaustion?
ME: That wasn't really funny.
MYSELF: Not even a little?
ME: Not even vaguely.
MYSELF: I'll try harder tomorrow. Promise

Three's company, two's a crowd.

Here's Sunday's column, hope you enjoy.

A MILLION MILES FROM NORMAL – By Paige Nick

IT’S A RELATIONSHIP, NOT MATHS.

Ever heard of Trinogamy? And no, I’m not talking about the branch of mathematics that deals with the relation between the sides and angles of plane or spherical triangles, and their calculations. That’s Trigonometry. Trinogamy is when three people are in one relationship.

 According to my research, it’s a little like a ménage a trois, except when you wake up the next morning it’s still going on, and the next morning, and the morning after that.

While your average ménage a trois is usually just a once-off lucky one nighter that gives you bragging rights for the rest of your life, Trinogamy is more of a committed relationship, very much like a marriage, just with three people in it instead of two. Forever and ever until death (or a pick axe fuelled by jealousy) do you part.

Sound crazy? You haven’t heard a third of it yet.

It could be a relationship between two guys and one girl, or two girls and one guy, or three guys, or three girls. I imagine that the wedding itself might get a little laborious though; do you, X, take Y, to be your lawful wedded spouse? I do. And do you, Z, take Y to be your lawful wedded spouse? I do. And do you, Y take X to be your lawful wedded spouse? I do...

Yawn, pull up a chair, we might be here for a while.

I can’t make a relationship with one guy work for a couple of months at a time, and here people are creating life-long partnerships made up of whole polo teams.

Say if your Trinogamy was made up of two guys and one girl, I’m guessing the remote control issues would be out of control. And that poor woman would lose the toilet seat down argument forever, hey it’s two against one.

Or if your Trinogamy had two women and one dude, God help that man if he ever forgot to take out the dustbin or missed an anniversary. If hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, can you imagine the kind of fury created by two women scorned? Run Forest, run.

I guess the upside to this kind of marriage, or should we call it triage, would be that if there are three of you, at least one of you must feel like cooking every night, and there’s always someone to go out with if one wants to stay home to watch The Apprentice.

But more importantly, the cons: Isn’t three always a crowd? At some point someone is always going to feel left out, or ganged up on. Also you can’t play Rock, Paper, Scissors with three people, so how would the big family decisions ever get made?

The whole thing sounds incredibly complicated to me. Also in my experience there’s never enough duvet to go around for two people, imagine having to make it work with three in the bed? Holding hands would also be a problem. You can’t really walk in a circle, so one person gets both hands held and the other two are on their own. Many rosters would need to be drawn up. I also wonder how they play Backgammon?

And then there are the in-laws to consider. It’s tricky enough in a ‘normal’ relationship where there are two sets of in-laws. Your average Trinogamous relationship has three mothers-in-law to contend with. Christmas must be the least looked forward to day on the calendar.

Four bank accounts (three single, one joint), three wedding rings, six in-laws, table for three, and figuring out who gets to sit in the middle at movies? Come to think about it, perhaps it is quite a lot like trigonometry in the end after all.

I nearly dyed.

Since Sunday's column was about pets, I thought I'd continue in the theme of mad pets, with this post.

This is all the rage in China.

People are totally getting into dying their pets to make them look like other animals.

Woofing Hilarious.

Check out Panda dog:  

And tiger dog:

These dogs must get terribly confused.

Do they want to hunt and kill a small buck?

Or do they suddenly get a craving to gnaw on a stick of bamboo?

I don't understand, if they wanted a panda or a tiger, why did they get a dog in the first place?

Hey, why stop there? We could do this next:

Poachers are that stupid, it may actually work. 'Ah no rhino here. Nothing to see, let's move on.'

Lions will FREAK out.

LION 1: Wait, hold on a second, my zebra tastes funny!

LION 2: I told you not to hunt down at the watering hole. You should have tasted the weird Panda I picked up down there last week.

Somehow I don't think a student in vet tech school would agree with this practice. 

 

Barking mad

Morning folks, yes it's Monday again. Hope your week is a good one. Here's yesterday's column, which is dedicated to every single cat ever posted on the Internet.

Enjoy.

A MILLION MILES FROM NORMAL – By Paige Nick.

BARKING MAD

We’re about to head into the fourth week of January. Easily the most broke week of the year for most of us. Thanks a lot, December!

So last week, from the middle of this century’s version of The Great Depression, I managed to scrounge up just enough spare change from between my couch cushions to buy a newspaper (I also found an unrecognisable pill that I’m saving for next Saturday night). It was in this paper that I read about a cat in Italy named Tommasino, who just became one of the richest pets in the world.

Tommasino inherited close to ten million pounds when his owner died at the end of 2011 and left him the entire family fortune. (The grandchildren can’t be happy!) And we’re not even talking about one of those pedigreed cats, with the fancy names, like Lady Marmalade Friesian Duchess Persian Shenanigan III, with a blood-line as long as your arm, and a better family tree than Princess Margaret. This was just some scabby stray that the 94 year-old lady had taken in off the street.

Cats are geniuses. It’s a well known fact. And they’re not just good at financial planning, theyhave fantastic senses of humour, and they’ve also got that whole aloof thing going on that drives most of us humans crazy with desire. In fact I’m willing to go out on a limb here and say that it was the cat who first invented playing hard to get. It’s no surprise they were considered sacred and were worshipped as far back as ancient Egypt.

Crafty little creatures, it’s only taken them a couple of centuries to achieve near complete world domination. (Not including India where the cow beat them to it, and China where they go down well with a little hot sauce.) Have you checked out the internet lately? Cat pictures and videos almost outnumber pornographic ones. Almost. There’s already a You Tube and a Porn Tube, watch this space, next up I predict a Cat Tube.

I once dated a guy who was so besotted with his furries that we were never allowed to disturb a sleeping cat in his household. We had to climb into bed around them, it was like playing a round of Twister before lights out.

But back to Tomassino, one has to wonder what on earth an animal is going to do with ten million pounds? A cat could live out all nine lives in luxuryand still never manage to spend that much cash. Surely once you’ve bought nine lifetime’s supply of fish heads and cat nip, a couple hundred litres of the finest cream, and a double storied cat scratching post, with built in squeaky mouse toys, and a few balls of wool, then what to do with the remaining 9 999 999 million pounds? There’s only so much one can spend on gold-plated kitty litter.

Perhaps with his new found wealth our fat cat should hook up with the number one richest pet in the world, a dog named Gunter IV, a German shepherd who inherited over 90 million pounds. And Blackie, a cat who inherited nine million pounds back in 1988. (In my opinion the cops should consider looking into the circumstances of these pet owner’s deaths, I’d say upwards of nine million pounds would be motive enough, even for a creature with no opposable thumbs).

These three loaded pets could hang out at the park, where Blackie and Tommasino would smoke cigars while they throw a golden stick for Gunter IV. Then maybe they’ll all pop out for a bowl of caviar together. And then later meet up with the queen’s Corgis for a couple rounds of Poker. (What, haven’t you ever seen that famous painting, Dogs Playing Poker? It’s their favourite game. After fetch, licking their bollocks and chasing their own tails, of course.)  

You’ve got to love the fact that whilst most of us are just barely hanging in there,eating gruel and skimping on whisky till pay day, somewhere out there are a couple of cats and dogs who are literally worth their weight in gold. It’s all a bit barking mad if you ask me.

The Emperor's new clothes

This is Lucy Hale at the People's Choice Awards:

Yeah, I'd never heard of her either.

I Wikipedia-ed her.

She is an American actress and singer known for her roles in Bionic Woman, Privileged, Scream 4, and the hit series Pretty Little Liars.  (Pretty Little Liars hasn't hit here yet, but I've read the book, and I hear it's awesome.)

But that's not the point of this post. This is:

At some point some people had this conversation:

LUCY: So what do we think of this one? *Does a twirl.*
STYLIST: Oh my God! That is stunning. You just HAVE to wear it.
HAIR STYLIST: Totally Lucy, it's like so hip, so you, so cool.
LUCY: You don't think it's a bit...
PUBLICIST: Oh my God! No! Not at all, it's like totally stunning.
HAIR STYLIST: You look like a princess.
STYLIST: Totally! It's bananas!
HAIR STYLIST: Wow, the way it's long on one side, and short on the other...
PUBLICIST: I aggree, that's the best part. And all that neck detail. It is so CLASSY!
HAIR STYLIST: Anyone got anymore crack?
STYLIST: Nope, but I've got a little meth left if you want?

Sirius! What were they thinking?

And they clearly had a similar conversation over in Kelly Osbourne's dressing room:

Word nerding it up

When one is a weirdo-word-nerd, much like myself, then one likes to do weirdo wordy nerdy things, like this:

I recently stumbled across my good friends Wendy and Kyle hanging out on Facebook being clever, so I immediately gatecrashed.

I'll give away the first one, so you can see how it goes, but then you're on your own for the rest. Or you can be un-word-nerdy-like and get a life and go do something outdoorsy or more interesting instead.

  

From L-R: rye, wry, why. of course. see, it's easy when you know how.

Get it? Here's another (friend Kyle made this one):

And here's one I made:

This next one is smarter, but that's cos I didn't come up with it. This one is courtesy of Wendy the Smart (click here to check out her blog if you like to laugh):

This one is hers too:

And this last one is from me. Also a little tricky, but it's no fun if they're too easy.

HINT: If you get the middle one first, then the other two are easy.

Aha, clever Wendy just added this one. It's easy, but funny.

Wait, wait, it's missing something.

perfect.


If you have any you want to add email them to me on paige@polka.co.za and I'll post them.

Happy word nerding. Oh and welcome back to the grind, those of you who've just joined us.