SABC monkeys.

nice one on fucking up the survivor finale, you brain surgeons.

we've only been waiting 12 weeks for it.

and you managed to cut out my favourite part, when the bitter, twisted losers get to kick the almost winners in the shins.

this is almost as bad as the time you cancelled survivor to put on cricket for two weeks straight without warning everyone.

and the time you took over zimbabwe and mis-governed the shit out of it. oh no wait, that wasn't you.



here's a link to my favourite south african televsion website tvsa: http://www.tvsa.co.za/default.asp?blogname=tribaltalk&articleID=12547
their take on the SABC fuck up is very funny. here's an exerpt:

"Yes, it seems the SABC is in such dire financial straits, they had to sell off bits of the Survivor finale for drug money. Unfortunately, instead of selling off the parts no-one cares about, like the fifteen-minute previously sequence, they decided to get rid of the most important part of the entire finale..."

they also give a bit of a synopsis of the show, if you still care.
thanks tvsa.

the six year old

did you know that for every question you and i get, a six year old gets fourteen questions?

it's true. i've had my six year old niece staying with me for the last couple of days because the family circus came to town, so i know this to be true from personal experience.

11:18pm on sunday night after a non-stop weekend:

six year old (still bright eyed): whats this?

me (old and jaded): it's a chopstick.

six year old: what’s it for?

me (even older and more jaded than i was half a second ago): no answer.

six year old: is it to make chops with?

devil's dictionary - 'A' is for 'amyl nitrate'.

for those of you who just joined us, here are a few more direct translations shamelessly copied from 'The Devil's Dictionary' which was written by my boyfriend, Ambrose Bierce, in 1871 - you can read more about it and see a snazzy picture of the man himself, over here: http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/08/devils-dictionary.html

'Ambidextrous, adj. Able to pick with equal skill a right-hand pocket or a left.'

'Apologise, v.i. To lay the foundation for a future offence.'

'Apothecary, n. The physician's accomplice, undertaker's benefactor and grave worm's provider.'


'April Fool, n. The March fool with another month added to his folly.'

'Arrest, v.t. Formally to detain one accused of unusualness. God made the world in six days and was arrested on the seventh.'

classic stuff.

ok, i have 'nephew 5's' barmitzvah today, off to the synagogue. do you think i'm going to get struck by lightning for all my blasphemy? maybe. you'd better not sit next to me.

meet match #83

on the dating website you can click through to a section where they show you all your matches.

so everyone types in what they're looking for and the computer does some maths and generates a list of all your calculated matches.

so here is one of my matches:

meet 'match # 83', well that's what my computer calls him anyway.

let's start off with his pay off line. (check out here if you don't know what i mean by pay off line - http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/08/smart-as-horse-and-hung-like-einstein.html)


('Someone 2 time-travel with. Will get paid IF we get back. Bring own weapons. Only done this once before.')

look below, the computer says he is a 94% match for me. and i am an 86% match for him. and together we make a 90% match.



ok, hang on just a second here. let's review this: i'm looking for a strong, mature, balanced, intelligent, stable companion, to partner me through life.

and he's looking for someone to help him steer his time machine when we fly off into the past or the future (he doesn't say) to fight some aliens or dinosaurs (he doesn't say). and we have to bring our own weapons.

how does that make him a 94% match for me?

i'm going to check out the 100% matches now. maybe somewhere in there is a suicidal serial-killer psychopath, who's just perfect for me.

thursday se phuza

it's been a while since i've given you random cool stuffs off the internetweb. so here it is, courtesy of the people who brought you the internetweb (drum roll please) - stuffs:

the devil's dictionary.

Ambrose Bierce is not a friend of mine. nor have i ever shagged him.

but, had i been around when he was alive in 1817 i would have most certainly given it a good go. moustache or no moustache.

he was a genius.

in 1875 he started work on a book called 'the devil's dictionary'. according to the back cover blurb - it's a 'splendid "dictionary" of epigrams, essays, verses and vignettes, you'll find over 1000 pointed definitions.'


so i think we shall try a new segment over here on the blog, a kind of word of the day type of thing, which i shall lift shamelessly out of the devil's dictionary, because they're damn funny. (unless you all hate them, in which case i'll stop immediately.)

here check this out if you don't believe me:

'Coward, n. One who in perilous emergency thinks with his legs.'

here's another:

'Longevity, n. Uncommon extension of the fear of death.'

and one more, just to give you a general vibe:

'Bore, n. A person who talks when you wish him to listen.'

ok, one last one; i know, i know, i promised the last one would be the last one. here really is the last one. for now. (with massive apologies to my good friend 'the dentist' and his most fabulous wife -'mrs dentist'):

'Dentist, n. A prestidigitator who, putting metal into your mouth, pulls coins out of your pocket.'
(i tried to look up 'prestidigitator, but he didn't have it.)

yeah, over 130 years later, he's still a legend. i'd do him.

i forgot to remember

i've written myself a note in my cell phone. i do that sometimes when i really really want to remember something very very funny, or moving or clever or important.

i wrote it on saturday night, i remember that much. i was away for the weekend and we were sitting around a big fire talking shit and having a couple (million) drinks. (thanks johnnie walker black label, i heart you. my liver hearts you too.)

anyway all i've written to remind myself is:

'rose joke'

that's all. i obviously thought it was so fucking funny that just those two words alone would be enough to conjure up the entire joke engrained in my mind word for word.

well they aren't.

does anyone out there know a fucking hilarious joke about a rose, or someone named rose, or the colour rose?

anybody?

what the hell is naugahyde anyway?

my very good friend and uber talented lady, 'the design goddess' and i often trade stories about the online dating website. where she too has been exposed to some of the freaks and lunatics hanging around out there waiting for us to click on them.

since we surf similar circles, we've been known to give each other a dating site heads up. like: don't date him, his penis is smaller than a small thing on a small day. or don't date him he will bring his friend 'frank' with on the date and make you pay for both of them. or don't date him, his breath smells like gasoline.

so when she sent me a profile and insisted i drop everything and take a look, i did, and i wasn't disappointed.

meet someone i think we'll call 'crazyguy' - because he's a guy and he's crazy.

yup, no wait, there's more:

(if the cut and pasted bit below is too small i've transcribed it in purple.)

"The best date I ever had was involving a monkey and 60 yards of naugahyde. The most unusual place I've ever made love was on the dinner table during new year's day lunch with everyone watching. I am into people, animals, furniture, pretty much anything else with a hole in it."

and then he gets so excited, he goes into ALL CAPS:

and this is what he's looking for in a partner:

ok, i've got to go, i need to call up 'the design goddess' and ask her if she's going to mail him. if she doesn't want him i've got next dibbs.

coffee anyone?

ps: courtesy of: www.nataliedee.com, who is the creator of 'anxiety girl' my favourite superhero in the whole universe.

pps: if you want a real good cup of coffee, check out Newport Market and Deli in moullie point. or you can find them on facebook over here if you just want to feed your eyeballs: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Cape-Town-South-Africa/Newport-Market-Deli/105748766716?ref=nf rocking coffee, awesome food. and i'm not just saying that because we're related, promise.

system errors.

when i first started blogging there was this:

(it says: sorry for the incontinence)

in case you missed it and you still wanna see it, the whole story is here: http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/07/spot-mistake.html

and then today i was surfing through a local site and i did something, and this happened:

the small print says: "Arg! It's broken! How'd you break Amatomu?

Oops, you hit a database error. It's either something we did, or something you did. Yeah, it's probably your fault."

i absolutely love it when brands don't take themselves too seriously, like this. it's an error message, and you can't get the shit you need, so you should be irritated, but because they've gone and been cool about it, you kind of dig them. even though they've actually blamed you... hang on a second!

so i decided to get all computer geeky and go looking for more. here are a few. turns out there are a bunch of geeks all over the internetweb who don't have girlfriends and probably masturbate a lot, who spend tons of time looking for this shit and loading it up onto their websites.

these ones below aren't really funny cool ones, they're the kinds of error messages that when you get them on your computer, they make you go out and drink too much tequila, then sleep with the barman, prang your car and get a tattoo of popeye on your ass:

it says: 'An error has occured while creating an error report!'

can't click on the 'ok' wahahaha classic, until it happens to you and you kill someone.

and then this isn't a real computer download message, it just looks like one and i like it.

this just in

in some kind of bizarre karmic twist 'arb family friend' from this story over here -http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/08/oh-shit-my-mothers-going-to-kill-me-for.html has fallen and broken her camera finger. seriously, she really did. i couldn't make this up. not without a lot of crack.


could i be responsible some how? i feel terrible. get better soon 'arb family friend', we do love you for lots of reasons, but mainly because you make airplanes reroute us when we act like dumbasses and miss our flights.


when i asked my mother who is going to take her place and take the family photograph now, she refused to tell me. maybe she's got grace jones or even better, twiggy. they were both runway models in the 70's you know.

it's monday, we take our humour where we can get it.

how many drummers does it take to change a lightbulb?

twenty.

one to change the lightbulb,

and nineteen to drink till the room spins.

dating website blacklist

oh shit. i think they're onto me.

i just logged into my dating website profile and found this:

fuck. not a single look. not even a farmer from bredarsdorp, or an abattoir owner from delmas. shit. i would have taken either of those over this complete vacuum.

do you think they're onto me? maybe the guy from klerksdorp (http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-i-wont-be-moving-to-klerksdorp-after.html) ratted me out. he probably mailed each of the '1668 new members who joined or modified their profile since you were last online' individually and told them - don't date that chick, she'll just write embarrassing things about you on her blog and if you've got a teeny winkie (unlike mine which is huge - he probably said) she will tell everyone in the internetweb world about it.

i bet that's what happened.

you laugh (i hope) but it's no joke, this blog is proving a serious damper on my love sex life. just a couple of weeks ago i was dating this really nice guy, he didn't even have a third nipple or anything. we were about a month in, all going well and lovely. then he read my blog. that was the last i heard from him. true story. and i hadn't even written about him. (yet.)

don't blacklist me boys, please. i promise not to write about your winkies again. unless you ejaculate prematurely, or it's unnaturally small, like a little mushroom, or unless it bends to the left like a boomerang, like that guy 'bendy boy', i once dated. ok wait, i cannot tell a lie, i probably will write about your winkie, but i'll make up a fake name for you so nobody will know it's you, promise.

(by the way, if you're reading this, happy birthday for today 'mr great disappearing act'.)

new pic

the new pic is courtesy of 'mrs bastard' if i remember correctly. she took it in another time, when it didn't rain constantly. thanks 'mrs bastard' i do love it. oh and sorry again that you have to be married to such a bastard.
x

spam.

spam. the only thing worse than telemarketers. except at least you can delete spam. telemarketers, especially the ones from cell c, continue to call back long after you've trashed them.
so my computer has decided to step things up a notch. i now recieve french spam. ooh la la. fancy hey.

now here's something you didn't know about me. i did french at school. really, i did.

i sat next to 'surfer chick' of the smoking dope in afrikaans class fame - http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/07/alliterative-weekend-away-in-worcester.html.
we were way more vigilant in french class. we never smoked dope in the bathrooms. however the teacher was strange, and shouted instead of speaking, flinging spit across the room with every conjugated verb. the classroom was set up with benches pushed together. so come test time we would leave the text book open between us on the bench, and c'est voila. D's for everyone! (even cheating we weren't that smart!)

so this is why i am able to translate the spam below for you. you'll find my direct translations in purple, and my comments in brackets in black below the actual mail:

it says:

TITLE: ***SPAM*** (duh! it's one of those words that's obviously the same in french and english.)

Re: Even people with leprosy can have a sex change.
SUBTITLE: sex pills for your man - if your lady friend is game.

and it's from a man named rogelio barton, to me and another man named hunter waller hh.
(i don't know either of them, just in case you were curious about that.)

BODY OF MAIL:
are you tired that you can't get it up, and always feel a little confused?
(shame poor hunter waller hh, who knew! and he's got leprosy, some people really do have a tough time of it.)
it's not your fault that you actually want to be a girl.
why cum, be fair now. look over here.
take one big bite (i'm assuming of the pill), you're one big reduced penis away from it.

voila! monsieur ... um... er... 'spitty' (anyone remember our french teacher's name?) would be so proud.

shame, rogelio must have cc'd me by mistake. hunter waller must be mortified that we now all know his secret.

hunter waller hh, i suggest if you want to be a girl, you should buy some tits, wear a dress and tell rogelio barton to fuck off. what kind of friend is he anyway, blabbing your secrets to the world.

birthday friday

i hope my good friend 'mother of a genius' is reading this. because it's her birthday today, eventhough she would like to think it isn't.

there is something you should know about 'mother of a genius':

she is the smartest, wisest, funniest, best with grammar and spelling, most amazing friend i could ever wish to have.

and if you ever have to share a room with her at a company function, she's a very quiet sleeper too.

that's all. you can go now.

happy birthday 'mother of a genius'. xxx
fab image of fruits wearing party hats courtesy of: http://www.redcapcards.com

artsy fartsy friday

a mixed bag today. the art, shithead, not me!

anyway, why just show one artist when you can show a whole bunch. wish i knew who did the above. i surfed like all the bertish brothers put together, but i still couldn't find who was responsible.

if you did this, you deserve the credit. as well as a blow job from a hot blonde if you're a boy, and a pair of manolo's if you're a girl; the piece is amazing.

here's another artist who deserves either a hot blonde hand job, or a vintage gucci aligator skin clutch. i can't find this artist's name either. but i know there's a whole series of them somewhere on the internetweb. let me know if you come across them.

i'm not a complete moron, i actually do know who did the piece below:

it comes from http://www.emilyforgot.co.uk/ so the artist's name must be emily forgot.


funny surname, although at least you know what you're going to get with her. like if she doesn't pitch when you've made dinner arrangements, so you phone her and you say 'where the fuck are you?' and she says, 'oops, i forgot', you can't be mad, it's not like she didn't warn you.

have a happy friday.

tomorrow is another day.

i've been waiting for the right end of day to post this.
this feels like it.

the boyfriend list.

i think i've got to get me one of these. i like lists. lists are good. somewhat anal. but good.
my friend 'flygirl' made one and it so worked.

a twelve year old somewhere on the internetweb made herself this list:


it's a clever idea. especially for a twelve year old. not that i'm dissing twelve year olds. they're good at um... er, ja well anyway it's a good idea.

i'm wondering what i should put on my list:

PLUS +
- likes me
- doesn't like capital letters
- good shoes (stolen from twelve year old's list, but still relevant)
- too tight pants (also stolen from twelve year old's list, but from the other side so it's ok!)
- good at getting rid of spiders/bugs/worms/snails
- has a job
- lives far away
- doesn't wear a speedo*

MINUS -
- nasty/rude
- tells me i'm fat
- lives far away
- has another girlfriend.

hmmm yes. that's a good list. thanks for the inspiration twelve year old somewhere out there on the internetweb, you can go back to texting now.

* unless he's got an enormous package, or unless he's an olympic type swimmer and only wears it when he's doing thousands of laps in the gym pool. see 'brave client' there are some exceptions.

'mr long-time-no-see'.

i was just doing the rush hour shopping basket shuffle down at my local woolies, when i bumped into an old friend, 'mr long-time-no-see'. we got chatting, as one does. he was looking for a whole coconut, creme fraiche and some basil. i wanted to ask what he was making for dinner, cos i couldn't think of anything appealing or obvious out of that lot, but i didn't want to be rude.

anyway he told me he had two trolleys on the go at the same time. one half full downstairs at the pick and pay, and this one he was currently busy with in the woolies. he said he likes to keep two going, and work between them, filling them as he goes. i guess it keeps things exciting?

i think it's a fucking genius idea. i always liked 'mr long-time-no-see'. just think, when you get really irritated or can't decide between chicken or fish, then you just abandon your trolley mid-aisle, swap shops, and come back to it when you're done prodding avos in the other shop. brilliant.

when i asked him if he wasn't worried someone might pilfer from his trolley left alone and abandoned downstairs at the p 'n p, he said he always makes sure there are lots of things on the shelves he takes his items off of, just in case he ever needs to go back for replacements.

smart man 'mr long-time-no-see'.

oh shit my mother's going to kill me for this one.

she knows i love her, but this story has to be told.

so we're gearing up for a monster family function in a couple weeks. now this isn't like the kind of family functions you have. because i have: two parents, four sisters, one brother, one sister-in-law, three brothers-in-law, 12 nieces and nephews between the ages of 21 and 4, and if we had to start counting up the cousins, bobbas and zeda's and aunties, uncles and rabbi's you'd still be reading this well into next week.

too much screwing and not enough condoms if you ask me. (oops sorry rabbi, hope you don't mind, i said 'screwing'. could have been worse, i could have said fucking.)

anyway so everyone is hoofing it over from all over the planet for the big event.

only once every ten years or so sees a large majority of us in the same place at the same time and so we try to coordinate a family photograph at my mother and 'grumpa's' house.

more whiskey please barman.

herewith the conversation i had with my mother the other night about the photograph:

ME: so are you all sorted for the photograph?

MOM: yes.

ME: you're not getting the same photographer who did the last one are you? those came out all blurry.

MOM: no. remember 'arb family friend'? She is going to come and take it.

silence

ME: 'arb family friend'?

MOM: yes, 'arb family friend'. you remember her?

silence

ME: you mean we're not getting a professional photographer?

MOM: 'arb family friend' was a ramp model in the seventies, you know!

ME: um... ok, so we're not getting a professional then.

the conversation deteriorated from there. in my mother's mind somehow being a ramp model in the seventies correlates with being a professional photographer. i suppose i can see the logic.

and then today i came across this on the internetweb: http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/ it is a most glorious website where people send in their family photographs. here are a few i copied and pasted.

dear future family,

i promise i will never do this to you.

love paige.

mom's thinking: it's just a phase, it's just a phase. please let it just be a phase.

now that's just creepy and unnecesary! the least you could do is put on a pair of pants!

hey dude, grow a pair. how can you let them do that to you?

they were going to pose with their boyfriends, they're also all cocks.

over here, anybody?

this one's actually quite clever. maybe my family can do this with a picture of me so i don't have to go to ours. (just kidding mum, i'll be there, and i'm really looking forward to it. promise. love you.)

duuuuude! did yours shrink in the wash?

hey sunflower mom, they are so going to hate you for this in a couple year's time.

so i was a bit worried about our family photograph, but not so much anymore.

as long as i get the tall horse.

not at all crap, for a monday.

Once upon a time i stumbled across some cartoons on the internetweb that i instantly fell in love with. so i called up the artist, a complete stranger who lives in america and asked him to marry me. he said no, but we did make some beautiful ads together, and those are kind of like my babies, so it's almost like we got married and had children. but not really.

he's still making cartoons, and has just launched a fricking cool book. look at some of his stuff and then you'll understand why i'm so smitten. and check his movies over here too: http://www.ingredientx.com/main.htm only because i'm still a laggard, which means i'm not smart enough to know how to post a movie yet. baby steps.

of his work, lev says: 'it's stuff you think about but don't talk about'. oh his name's lev by the way.

here's the copy out of that cartoon, in case it's so small you can't read it. i actually retyped the whole lot for you. that's how much i like it. and you of course. so no pressure to read it, but it was a lot of work. i'm just saying.

31 possible reasons why she isn't calling me back
she's in the shower, she fell asleep. she's washing her hair. she had to stay late at work. she's on the phone with her mom. her best friend is very depressed. she's painting her toenails. she decided i was boring. she decided i was ugly. she decided i was too skinny. she didn't like the sweater i was wearing. she left her phone at home. she's at a ballet lesson. she's at the grocery store. she's got a flat tire and is waiting for AAA to show up. she is working on her posture by walking around with a book on her head. she's mad that i mixed up her name once. she decided i was spineless because i asked her what she felt like doing instead of telling her what we were going to do. she decided i wasn't confident because i didn't brag about myself much. i didn't act like enough of an asshole. she was looking for someone who would instantly take all her problems away, but i didn't figure out what her problems were fast enough, and therefore i couldn't take them away. she's making out with her old boyfriend. she decided she was a lesbian. zorro rode into the store she works at and swept her off her feet. she's having sex with charlie sheen. she's been on the phone with all her friends telling them how in love with me she is. she's busy writing 'i love lev 4-eva' on her spiral-bound notebooks. is busy geting a 'le'vs #1 girl' t-shirt made. is on her way to my house with a bottle of wine & a garter belt. decided her love for me is so great and intense, that she didn't deserve such happiness. smoked a joint after work and is now searching for Hucleberry Hound cartoons on YouTube.

hopefully if you click on them they'll come up bigger on your screen so you can read them. if not, oh well it's a monday, and that's when crap things happen to you anyway.

the speedo rears it's... erm... head again.

a couple of weeks ago i posted a piece about speedo's and the fact that they make a guy's junk look smaller. it's here should you have missed it - http://amillionmilesfromnormal.blogspot.com/2009/07/boys-speedo-makes-your-junk-look.html

i've since downloaded a programme which shows me how people come by my blog. like if you linked to it from facebook or twitter, or a dirty porn site or wherever. now don't panic if you've just come straight from http://www.thehun.net/ or http://www.cutelittlekittens.com/, i can only see where you've come from, i can't see who you are.

back to my point. so i've accidented across the fact that every time someone types a google search for the word 'speedo', my blog is recommended. you would be amazed, astounded and astonished at how many people type the word 'speedo' into google, particularly between 12pm and 3:25am on a saturday night. literally hundreds of thousands. and they're looking for some pretty lewd stuff.

but there are also the more legitimate questions that people have regarding the speedo. such as this one: "how to wear your dick in speedos". yup, haven't we all asked that question at one point or another?

and of course there are are the kind people who take the time out of their busy day to supply some really insightful answers like these:

and these:

and then, because it's the internet, there's always one horny perv:

and one very funny smart arse.

and if you're not bored of this yet, check out this site i came by. it answers one of the big questions of our time. ie: how to put on a speedo. to be honest, i kind of thought it was pretty straight forward, but i suppose one shouldn't assume that everybody doesn't get dropped on the head as a baby.

long live the internetweb.