Two Fat Cows & A Bottle of Goose

Really??? Really!!! ~ How the rest of the world sees lesbians...

2011-12-06T14:48:00.012+02:00

So this weekend, while at my day job, with a hang-over from hell, I tried to pass the time by surfing the net and trying to find something worthy of a good read. I often click on links to articles written by Pierre on his blog, Warfare: The Delightful and Dreary Sides of Gay Life but this time, I decided to check out what else he has on offer as I found his previous articles on Farmville, Blackberries and the joys of giving up cigarettes extremely entertaining. I never would have imagined what I would stumble upon; reading some of his blog posts, and let’s just say, it was an eye opener of note!

Let’s face it, even though we might proudly proclaim that we really don’t care what other people think of us, we always love finding out. And this is no exception. At first I had a good old laugh at what this delightful fairy had to say about us, but the more I thought about it, the more real his words became and the more it hit home for me, not just looking at myself (let’s face it, I can’t fit into every stereotype out there) but at my circle of divine dykes as well.

So the first “on the floor” moment I had, was when he wrote that should lesbians ever recruit straight women (in response to the myth that homosexuals have a plan to turn all straight people), they would, amongst other things, have to know what a spark plug is and what it’s used for, how to change a tyre, name at least 5 power tools and their uses, and know how to break a bathroom mirror with their fists, without cutting their hands. This isn’t the first time I heard this. A little while back my good friend, GeeGee, also wondered if I could fix cars or do plumbing, and whenever I’m in the queue for the loo in a gay club, there will always be a queen behind me, pointing at the mirrors, rolling her eyes and saying: “fokken kommin lesbene!” Now even though I’ve never attempted this myself, I have seen my friend Charlie, an ex-bouncer at a popular Joburg night club, smash another woman’s head into one of the mirrors in the hallway of the club without a drop of blood being spilled. I also realised that not only can I name 5 power tools and their uses, I can operate them all AND I know quite a lot about the practical application of a sparkplug PLUS I can change a tyre in about 3 minutes without any help or getting my clothes dirty. I don’t know much about plumbing though, but I bet you I have at least 5 female bbm contacts or Facebook friends that do!

He then proceeded to comment on our fashion sense. Everything from our comfy shoes, to jeans, and then of course the favourite plaid flannel shirt that would make any farmer proud! This is also true if you think about it. Unless you’re uberfem, jeans and a comfy yet stylish pair of sneakers, is how we roll. I’m not too sure about the flannel shirts though, even though I did wear one in my last show and strangely enough it grew on me like Spiderman’s black alien Venom suit, but I doubt I’ll wear it off-stage. He also answered a question as to why butch lesbians don’t wear heels and dresses and this one had me literally falling off my chair! According to Pierre, we don’t do 9 inch stilettos and sequins dresses because we wouldn’t be able to win a barfight in an outfit like that and we’d pretty much look like drag queens. Now I can’t speak for the entire gay community, but even though I do not consider myself as butch, I wouldn’t be seen dead in a frock and heels. In my younger “closet” days I did attempt it once or twice on the odd formal occasion, and yet again I have to admit that he is on to something. I’m not sure if I looked like a drag queen but I sure as hell felt like one! And as for high heels, I fell over more times than I was on my feet and had more blisters than toes!

Now the next thing he pointed out, is something I hear over and over and over again…Lesbians are drama queens! Shock, horror and dismay…until I actually sat down and thought about it! We are soooo Drama Queens! We thrive on drama, live for it, and surround ourselves with it constantly and most importantly CONSCIOUSLY. That would explain the speed at which our relationships start, evolve and inevitably end. And who am I to argue? GeeGee often asks me why I put up with as much shit from other people as I do, and my dear friend Mrs Bratjie must be sick of me having some “major crisis” on a daily basis that I HAVE to tell her about, that in hindsight, seems pretty silly! Then I look at the people around me, and there’s always so much drama! And that’s largely why I prefer spending time with my straight friends. A very specific person in my life is forever surrounding herself with drama by interfering in other people’s lives, and a certain unsavoury lesbian that I recently unfriended, used to bitch and whine about anything you could think of! So, guilty as charged your honour, on the grounds that I all too often get suckered in to people’s sob stories, freaky fantasies and soap-opera existence.

Another very familiar theme in lesbian perception and stereotyping, is that of violence. And it’s clearly seen in the points stated above. For some reason, the fags and hetties think our favourite activity seems to be barfights! Again, another stigma I can’t escape, seeing as I was in a barfight, ON MY WEDDING DAY nogal! Surely defending myself against a bulldyke three times my size and high as a kite, (and successfully handing her ass to her, I might add) can’t force me to wear the Mike Tyson label, right? Right, then I gave it some thought. Even though I do feel that I am linguistically gifted and can insult jeanpant off just about anyone, if I feel the people I care about are being harassed in any way, my first words are always: “I’ll MOER them!” Uh oh…

So there you have it! We’re car-fixing, tyre-changing, sneaker-wearing, barfight-winning, powertool -wielding, couture-clueless drama queens! Touché Mr Le Roux, thank you for the eye-opener! I doubt it will change any time in the next century though so I might as well slip out of the comfort of denial and embrace my ways…maybe without the drama…and barfights…and flannel shirts…

Lilly Lampshaded

Top 10 Fun Songs for Sexy Time

2011-09-21T12:29:00.005+02:00

Ok, so last time we had the 'Top 10 Cheesy Songs for Sexy Time' and it was a lot of fun putting it together. We'll be doing more Top 10 lists over the next few weeks but this week it's going to be the Top 10 FUN ones...

Once again I asked my friends for their input and in no particular order here goes:

My gay husband Hawtentawt chose 'Boom Boom Boom' by Paul Lekakis. We just watched the video and we were crying!! Even funnier was Hawts trying to copy the dance moves... Hilarious!

Pierre from Warfare: The delightful and Dreary sides of Gay Life chose 'Satisfaction' by The Rolling Stones because 'the gays can never get too much'... hahahaha

My Gentledyke Miss Jones chose 'Pour some sugar on me' by Def Leppard because 'it's in the Guinness Book of Records as the song most played in strip clubs'. Lol! Visit her brand new page 'Androgeny' if you dare... *-)

My friend Devon picked 'Bad Things' by Jace Everett... Is there anything more FUN than the promise of bad things being done to you?? Excellent choice! ;-)

My favourite shorty from Ohio, Connie, picked 'Dangerous' by Roxette 'because it's almost true'... Although I must admit it's a bit hard for me to imagine Connie being dangerous! Hehehe

My favourite flamboyant queen in the world, Aendrew, chose 'We don't have to take our clothes off' by Jermaine Stewart because 'I'm just as good at dry humping ange'... Typical!!

The rocking photographer Kris picked 'You can leave your hat on' by Joe Cocker because 'all your lover has to do is follow his instructions and by then you're really in the mood'. I do tend to agree...

My pick is 'Cuntry Boner' by Puscifer because I was on the floor the first time I heard it!

My sister chose 'Waka Waka' by Shakira because 'waka waka sounds like it could be another name for sexy time "let's go waka waka bebe" AND it's rugby world cup now.

Hawtentawt insisted on having 2 picks because he's my 2nd husband and his 2nd one is 'I'm too sexy for my shirt' by Right Said Fred' because 'I AM too sexy for my shirt'... Can't really argue that one... lmao!

HAPPY HUMP DAY!!

GeeGee xx

Top 10 Cheesy Love Songs for Sexy Time....

2011-09-07T11:15:00.014+02:00

I thought it might be a fun idea to ask some of my friends for their different Top 10 songs and I'll be loading the various lists over the next couple of weeks but I'm kicking off with the cheesiest of cheesy for sexy time... woof! Just in time for 'hump' day!! So here goes in no particular order (clearly I don't want to be 'favouriting' anyone!) Some people were too shy to be tagged in their choices, I can kinda see why ;-)

Himself chose 'All out of Love' by Air Supply - he says no cheesy list is complete without some good old Air Supply! I must say I agree - it takes me back to many moons ago when he was in the army and would come home on weekend pass. Two bottles of Cold Duck sparkling wine (hey, we were teenagers - what did we know from real bubbly?), Air Supply on the turntable (YES! I'm THAT old...) and we were all set! erm....

My gentledyke Miss Jones chose 'Bed of Roses' by Bon Jovi but was clearly pissed at the time as she can't remember!! It's a goodie though, I mean does it get much cheesier than being laid down in a bed of roses?

I absolutely HAD to add this one - it took me straight back to the early 80's and all the 13th birthday parties I went to where slow dancing was the thing man!! Everyone kissing like it was going out of fashion - pimply boys and dorky girls everywhere....! No-one knew where anything went yet - but this song had us all yearning for something we didn't quite understand..... lol!

One of my fav people, Pierre of Gay Warfare infamy chose 'The wind beneath my wings' by Bette Midler because "the gays love Bette"... hehehehehe To read Pierre's blog 'Warfare: The Delightful and Dreary Sides of Gay Life' (it's FABulous!) Click HERE and to join his Facebook fan page click HERE

My friend Devon Marshall picked 'The Power of Love' by Jennifer Rush for obvious reasons - does it get any cheesier than Jennifer Rush warbling away about being your lady??

To learn more about Devon and the wonderful books she writes click HERE to visit her website.

My favourite shorty - Connie from Ohio came up with this gem of perfect cheesiness! REO Speedwagon - Keep On Loving You

Meatloaf!! 'It's All Coming Back to Me Now' Is there anything more intense than his songs when you've had a few and feel like getting your sexy on? Especially late at night.... If I kiss you like this, and I hold you like that... lalalalala

'I wanna hold you 'till I die, 'till we both break down and cry...' Sometimes When We Touch by Dan Hill - Cheesier than a triple cheese pizza!

Aaaaah, Mr White - the friend of lovers everywhere. All you need is a white shag rug, some bubbly, a fireplace, Barry serenading in the background and you're living cheesy!

What would a Top 10 cheesy list be without Marvin Gaye? Let's get it on... the best ever! Oooooh sugaaaarrrr.....

HAPPY HUMP DAY!!

GeeGee xx

Clueless Corporates: A parting gift from Lilly Lampshaded

2011-08-12T15:28:00.007+02:00

Everyone always describes leaving THAT place as getting out of prison. Well, for me it's more like a reverse insane asylum...You go in lucid, bright as a new button and ready to take on the world, and leave a dull nutcase that swears at the elderly and licks windows. And anyone who's ever worked there before will tell you that the day they left Satan's asshole (cudos Mrs Bratjie) was the best day of their lives. This was also true in my case, except I was mad as hell too, so thanks to my favourite gal pal, Geegee, I present my small token of displeasure to the clueless corporates...

Now, things weren't always this bad, at least not until Mr Grumpy left and the fairy princess took over. Grumpy was fabulous, well after ten in the mornings anyway. Before ten, I would put his coffee on his desk, he'd growl at me, and I'd back away SLOWLY. Thats how he got the name you see. After 10 would be a totally different story, complete with funny e-mails, dirty jokes and our lunchtime rituals where 90% of the office would disappear to the company restaurant (read health hazard) with our Grumpy. He was the best, and with him running the show, business was pleasure (especially his farewell party at teasers...we're all still in shit with his wife cos of that, but that's another story for another time)

Then, along came the fairy princess. An overly well groomed closet case, overrated terrible graphic designer with an ugly red car. Now before he became Mr Yes Man, he was in the art department with Gothgirl and Airoplane Jane. Now she got her nickname, and her claim to fame, by chasing the fairy out of the office by irritating the living daylights out of him every time the song, Airoplane Jane played on the radio by putting the volume up full blast knowing how much this grated his last nerve! It was fabulous! Not long after that, when he became Grumpy's assistant, she handed his ass to him in a disciplinary hearing and made him squirm in front of the big boss.

So fast forward a year, and you have the fairy loosely behind the wheel of the runaway train. He had some mighty big shoes to fill and thus far he hasn't been able to do so. The "man" cannot command respect from an ant farm, no one takes him seriously, not even the cleaning lady, and he knows it. So he tries to compensate by threatening everyone with warnings on a daily basis or by crawling up the big bosses ass with lame inhouse campaigns such as WWAD (what would America do). What would America do indeed...Once in a meeting when he discussed the campaign I asked him..."so is it cool if we all move into caravans, marry our cousins and bomb the crap out of anyone we don't like?" He didn't find that very amusing. Also, in our weekly meetings, all the division heads, myself, gothgirl, mr chubbs, peter pan and meneer would take the piss at his silly campaign and call it "what would grumpy do".

The fact that he knows little about nothing also contributes to everyone's frustration as well as to the fact that we get away with most of the shenanigans we get up to. This became apparent when the fairy and bratjie would have constant arguements about things the fairy knows nothing about, Gothgirl having enough of him treating her like his own personal doormat, the secretaries being ordered to "put the heater in the box for me?" (really? Really! How hard can that be) and sending e-mails to girlie asking her to print things out for him when there's a perfectly good colour printer on his desk right next to him, and one particularly funny moment when an argument between the two of us resulted in the director being hit in the face by a rogue keyholder. Needless to say I proved my point and as usual I won my argument.

The only person that maybe has a small ounce of respect for him is his assistant, Rasbanjee (thank you Mr Bratjie). But the Rasbanjee himself can't command much respect wearing pink sneakers, tight short jeans and no socks! This is very apparent when good old colourful has a go at him. Now you may wonder why I call her colourful. Little secret...it has nothing to do with her ethnicity, but rather her very COLORFUL use of language. She often drops the ma se P bomb on Rasbanjee and she puts him right back in his place every time!

Since this IS Satan's asshole, it wouldn't be complete without DEVIL WEARS PRADA ( #mostbroken colourful) She's the obese lazy old bag shoved into the corner of the admin block, in charge of doing so-called human resources! I've always had a theory that she kicks the paving bricks in the parking lot, and whatever crawls out from under there, she employs. She has two new assistants now, so with all the time she has on her hands, she's constantly thinking of new ways to get on everyone's nerves. Once she drew up an evacuation plan for if an airplane crashlanded into the building during the world cup, and for if terrorists decide to attack us by blowing up the surrounding ATM's (the closest ATM is 2km away). I'm not making this up!

So with people like these calling the shots, can you blame us for going slightly mad, trying to hang on to our sanity by chatting to "normal" people on Facebook during office hours, drinking WAY too much coffee whenever we get a chance, smoking like chimneys and getting the non smokers to join us, consuming large amounts of alcohol during our petty 30 minute lunchbreaks, wrapping their office furniture in bubble wrap, making fun of them in meetings and sticking it to the "yes we can" man whenever an opportunity presents itself?

Lilly Lampshaded

To read Lilly's first take on Clueless Corporates, click HERE

Beware the Sodomites want to Recruit You!

2011-08-08T12:27:00.006+02:00

My jaw once again dropped in disbelief when I recently listened to an audio clip of the rantings of a radical Church leader that a friend forwarded to me. This particular tirade is by Steven Anderson from the Faithful Word Baptist Church.

He is convinced that the Sodomites (homosexuals, that’s us) are taking over the world, spreading our disease of sin and intending to recruit everyone else. The only way to stop us, he says, is to kill us. This led me to wonder, is this true? Are we taking over the world? Are we really hell bent on recruiting as many as we can to join our revolution of depravity?

Steven raises an interesting point by saying that we are multiplying. “There’s more than there were last year and the year before, and the year before that,” he says. This is absolutely true. I can’t dispute this.

He also discusses our shortcoming in reproduction and entertains the viewer with a brief biology lesson. Yes, two men and two women can’t reproduce through gay sex (believe me we try). But even if you throw in artificial insemination into the mix, unfortunately for us, having a baby still doesn’t guarantee us producing another Sodomite. Statistically speaking, chances are higher that we would probably produce a straight (non-Sodomite) child. Oh the repulsion of even entertaining such a thought!

So how are we multiplying? The answer is simple, according to Steven: we recruit! Sodomites are diligent “recruiters and not reproducers.” We are preying on children, unsuspecting and unescorted teenagers, and even defenseless adults. Yes we seek out the weak and then swoop on them with our rainbow flags, KY, dildos and other queer paraphernalia and then “rape, molest and violate” them until they join our squadron. Little does he know that there is even a detailed instruction manual printed at Sodomite Head Quarters in Amsterdam, with the illustrated version distributed from Sydney.

Our devious plan is well on its way to success and they are slowly being conditioned for that day that the faggots, queers and dykes will be coming for them!

We Sodomites are an ambitious bunch, however. Recruiting is not enough because we don’t want to just spread our “disease of sin,” we want to dominate and take over the world. We are constantly taking over for positions of power, especially in the governments of world. Having already infiltrated the United States, United Kingdom, Germany, South Africa, Australia, Netherlands, Switzerland, France, Italy - and many more - we are at the verge of a full-on hostile coup d'état. We even have undercover Sodomites in the Vatican!

We also control large portions of the world’s economy, such as the fashion world, and are covertly taking control of other industries as well. Soon not a single non-Sodomite will be safe. Just think about what we have already achieved: We are in their homes (we decorate their rooms, design the clothes they wear, write the scripts of the shows they watch and even tell them how to prepare their food and do their hair).

Oh the repulsion of even entertaining such a thought!

Our devious plan is well on its way to success and they are slowly being conditioned for that day that the faggots, queers and dykes will be coming for them!

So how are us Sodomites able to do this? And, why are we getting away with it? Again Steven hits the nail on its head with the correct answer: “We have no natural predators!” Like the lions in the wild we have very few competitors to fear as we are at the top of the proverbial food chain. We have a superior brain, are more evolved and generally have a greater disposable income - enabling us to fund our global operations to dominate the world.

Our creativity and flamboyance, combined with our sensitive nature, are other key weapons in our arsenal, as this is how we lure away heterosexual men’s women and transform them into our slaves (fag hags). Whatever their wife or girlfriend can’t discuss with them (like their erectile dysfunction) they are happy to share with us. We are the ones that introduced them to vibrators and the phrase “honey not tonight, I have a headache”; all of this to curb the alarming heterosexual reproductive rate.

In fact, we are such geniuses that we have even destroyed the sanctity of marriage as now we too can get married in several countries. First we took over the wedding industry with our wedding planners, caterers, fashion designers and decorators and now we have taken ownership of marriage itself. Gay adoption is also on the rise so gay married couples are now also taking the unwanted children of heterosexual couples.

You may argue that we still need non-Sodomites in the world as the stereotypical Sodomite is quite timid and lacks brute strength. The truth is we really don’t; that’s why we have lesbians. They can build things, win bar fights, are good with knifes and beer bottles and can fix things like cars and leaking taps.

Steven, I think, has realized how redundant non-Sodomites have become in society and is quite rightly terrified. If you listen to how hysterical he becomes during the last portion of his sermon one would think a Sodomite has already baptized him up the ass. Steven is correct to be petrified because we are doing all these things: we are multiplying, recruiting and taking over the world. Soon all non-Sodomites will be replaced with the superior faction of the human race; the Sodomites.

Whoever is crazy enough to believe all of this really should look up Steven Anderson and give him a copy of this article. I’m sure this would further feed his festering hatred for homosexuals. Steven lives in a fantasy world where fairies have become demons and the battle between “good” and “evil” is led by men who can’t distinguish between the two. I just hope I never cross his path as I have quite a bit I’d like to say and do to crazy Anderson. Then again, I could just recruit him.

Go here to listen to the rantings of Steven Anderson.

Pierre

To read more posts by Pierre visit his blog by clicking HERE

Bill Hicks - Mandatory Marijuana

2011-08-02T16:32:00.003+02:00

I really don't get the big deal the kappie kommando makes about good ol' Mary Jane. I had my first experience at the ripe old age of 14 when I found myself in a car where Himself (he wasn't Himself yet, just a skinny 16 year old) and friends were making a hot box and I took to it like a fish to water. I became incredibly adept at hiding my constant high from parents and teachers - ok, except my ex-step father, he was a Joburg Hell's Angel in his day and could spot a stoner at 20 paces but he never gave me up to the authorities that be ie. my mother. My little spliff before school every morning became the best thing that ever happened to me, it got me through endless hours of Mrs Bosman's droolingly boring Business Economics classes and for that I will be forever grateful. I was just always so bored at school. Nothing ever got my creative juices flowing - nothing! Himself-to-be and I became total rebels without a clue and were voted least likely to succeed. Many happy days bunking school, smoking a spliff and lazing around the pool listening to Cheech & Chong's 'Up in Smoke' records... ah, what bliss! I don't regret one single moment.

Just for the record: all the people that say weed leads to hard drugs - bullshit!! I have never taken anything stronger in my life except for prescription meds that I had to have...

Anyway, flash forward a few years, after being expelled 3 times (2nd, 3rd and 4th best things that ever happened to me) getting married and becoming a contributing member of society against all odds, I found out I was preggers. I think you can still see the smoke from the brakes I put on and that was over 21 years ago. I never once missed my weed, didn't crave it, nothing - so much for it being addictive then....

3 years ago I had a brain tumour removed and let me tell you something, for the first time in over 2 decades I would've given my eye-teeth for some good medical marijuana but NO! Clearly it's far better to manage pain with copious amounts of morphine and codeine based pain killers! Go on - fuck up your liver and kill your brain cells - here's another handful of prescription drugs darling. I became a glassy eyed drooling sack of shit, stuck on my sofa and barely able to string a coherent thought together. Eight months ago I'd had enough and against my doc's wishes I went cold turkey. I'm not going to lie, it was HELL. I became a monster. I wanted to scratch my skin off my own arms. The pain became worse, almost unbearable. But I did it, on my own! No rehab - the reason explained in the link I added below to a post I wrote back then...

I still have an almost constant headache (I've named the fucker Magda) but I refuse to get that monkey called codeine on my back again. So I'm sucking it the fuck up sista's!

The point of all this is that I really think that medical marijuana should be legalised in this backwoods we find ourselves living in, it's clearly less harmful than all the chemicals my poor insides were subjected to and I'm strongly considering becoming a stoner again at the age of 40. I'll call myself Tannie Tieties, wear long dresses and a hat, start smoking only cigars and wait & see how long it takes my family to notice I'm stoned! *cackle*

Till next time,

GeeGee xxx

To read about my battle with codeine tackled with copious amounts of black humour click HERE

Men and their meat and veg obsession!

2011-07-14T12:57:00.004+02:00

From the moment a baby boy first discovers his penis and pulls at it as if to see how long it can stretch to the day an old geezer starts taking Viagra, it seems that men are completely obsessed by their dangly bits from birth to death. The far away look a baby boy gets when he discovers it and the outraged cry when his mother puts his nappy back on, that never really changes, does it? I have yet to meet a man who doesn't have his hand in his pants quite unselfconsciously while relaxing and watching telly - it's almost like they need the comfort of making sure it's still there...

When I first saw this clip I couldn't help wondering what on earth made this man decide that it's a good idea to draw with his penis and how many boners he's given himself doing it!

The saying 'the little head rules the big one' really does seem to apply to most men - think about all the ugly old rich oupa's with young totty hanging off their arms who clearly married them for love.

When Himself was in the army one of the guys in his bungalow drew a female shape on his mattress, cut a hole in the mattress at the erm... appropriate spot and shagged away happily every night! Have you ever???

I'm really glad I was born without one - how many hours are wasted thinking about size/ girth/ length/ next legover? Sitting watching porn by yourself? I always imagine an old greek man in a dirty vest doing that for some reason. And THEN it makes me think of all the sad old bastards found dead with boners after too much Viagra coupled (see what I did there?) with a lot of excitement...

Thank gawd, the ONLY time I've ever had penis envy is when I really need a wee because I don't do public loo's!

GeeGee xx

Clueless Corporates

2011-07-07T14:50:00.009+02:00

As I walk out of the secretaries' office I can't help but feel inspired. We just had a long conversation about which 7de Laan character we are. This is the kind of thing the 'little people' get up to when those in the Ivory Tower aren't watching. If you're stuck in a 10000 square meter cement and steel cage for a minimum of ten hours a day, you have to do something to free your mind from the traps of deadlines, written warnings, disciplinary hearings, sales targets and more big words nobody really cares about.

So let me tell you a little something about the people I work with:

As mentioned I have two secretaries, we'll call them Colorful and Girly. They provide most of my daily entertainment and I wonder how they ever get any actual work done? Girly will send out a memo asking not to be disturbed as she is busy with wages and she locks her office door. In reality this means Colorful's had a heavy night and needs to catch a nap, and Girly has Very Important Business on Facebook to attend to. Sometimes Girly will join Colorful - who's on Facebook all day every day anyway - and they catch their forty winks together. And as usual, they love a good gossip as well, but we'll get there later.

Then there's Meneer in the adjacent department. He's a sweetheart that takes way too much abuse from these people. He is also one of my favourite people on the planet. In the mornings before work starts, he always makes coffee and toast for us or brings me some of his mom's famous rusks. We also take all our tea breaks together. Now Meneer might be abused but he's no angel either. Let's put it to you this way... Work is something we do to fill time between coffee breaks. Sometimes we even take two coffee breaks an hour. Sometimes Meneer will bring a Woolies cheese platter and some crackers and we'll sit on the balcony like Queen Elizabeth and Prince Phillip and we'll get funny looks from the Directors.

Then there's Peter Pan. The Go To guy if you need anything personal done, if you want a movie to watch over the weekend, or if you get tired of office coffee and prefer a cappuccino or hot chocolate. He's one of the last surviving members of the LoadShedding 2009 office cricket team. Back then we didn't have a backup generator and whenever Eskom decided it's our turn to be in the dark, we had to keep ourselves entertained. Being in the highly pressurised industry we're in, we were all issued with stressballs and faulty office equipment was always available. And that's how office cricket was born. One stressball, One broken keyboard, Six bored employees and it's game on! The rules were simple (we had to keep it simple as we played in partial darkness) whatever you knocked off the Gothgirl's desk got you points. Maximum points for knocking over her coffee. Those days are over now, so now the folks in that office keep themselves entertained by defacing the motivational posters the HR department puts up. My favourite being a poster saying "Smiles are contagious, be a carrier". They scratched out the word Smiles and replaced it with the word Hangovers.

Although not all of us smoke, we usually gather outside on the balcony for a smoke and exchange information. Of course Colorful always has the best "skinner" but she's always eager to share. We also send her to go find out what’s happening where. She usually comes running down the stairs past my office throwing all kinds of hilarious hand gestures, then I know it's THAT time of the day. Hot topics of discussion are usually the closet cases on the design team or what the numbsculls in procurement got in incentives this month, as well as the PA's upstairs having so-called overflow PA's because their non-existent workload is too heavy!

Then there are our weekly meetings. The fairy princess that calls himself our boss has no boardroom etiquette whatsoever. He's always on his Blackberry and always has something in his mouth. So as a team we decided to take our phones and our lunchboxes into a meeting as well and we didn't really pay attention to what he had to say. Needless to say, Fairy hasn't done it since. Our meetings are also notorious for the verbal altercations between myself and the fairy, so much so that it has Girly so distracted that she can't take notes as she slides off her chair. Peter Pan and Meneer are usually my backup when this happens. These days I provoke the Fairy more for fun than actually trying to get my point across.

When you leave home before the sun rises and get home after the sun sets, you have to find ways of entertaining yourself. Of course there's many more shenanigans to write about but that’s another story for another day. Apart from us goofing off half the time, we are the ones that meet the deadlines and make the magic happen! And that makes me wonder...are the Corporates really clueless, or do they turn a blind eye because we do what needs getting done?

Lilly Lampshaded

Guest Bull post: Sitting on my friends porch

2011-06-14T07:16:00.002+02:00

This was sent to me by a broken bull.... Our very first male contributor who wishes to remain anonymous.

It's friday night and I'm sitting on my friends porch

I am broken

Regtig stukkend

I have this hole at this stage

Filled with...

You have no idea

The mind wanders

At times I find myself staring into nothing

Bleak

Dull gray emotionless detachment

Sitting on my friends porch

Cold fantastic awful wonderous kak aand

The start of what will be a night lived over too often

Up and down we go

Resembling the time spent in youth on the park seesaw

Youth!

Sitting on my friends porch...

I was young once

Some say still are

I fucking tell them this

No one

Nie een iemand kan verduidelik wat hier in die wese

Yes because it has cancer in it

This whatever we shall decide on one day

It hurts really eina seer

On my friends porch

I need a drink.

Guest Cow Blog: Chills, Thrills and Popping Pills!

2011-06-09T12:12:00.005+02:00

Define the word normal? What is normal? Who is normal? Do we even know what normal is? I bet you the Pharmaceutical companies know, but they try and sell us their version of normal, because what we perceive to be normal may not be as normal as originally anticipated? My version of normal may differ vastly from that of the next person and the billionaires in the ivory towers love cashing in on the ambivalence!

They say that every person on the planet pops at least one pill a day. Whether it be aspirin, ARV's, birth control, life-saving cardiovascular drugs or even laxatives. That’s an astounding 6.6 billion pills a day! There's pills that help you sleep, pills that keep you awake. Pills that prevent pregnancy and pills that boost fertility. Pills for constipation and pills for diarrhea, pills to make your heart beat faster, pills to make your heartbeat slower. Pills that suppress the appetite and pills that make you hungry. Pills to make you lose weight and pills that make you gain weight. Uppers, downers, energisers, happy pills, where does it end? While there's pills that make you happy when you're too sad, why is it that when you're just a little bit too happy, you get shipped off to the funny farm in vintage white extra length sleeves?

Pills have turned the world into sissies! Have a headache? Deal with it! It does go away eventually. Got the sniffles? Have a tissue for your issues! Highschool slut scared of falling pregnant? Keep your knickers on! Surely if all the crybabies just toughen up a bit, there would be a little bit more normality going around. Think about it, I mean really think about it. Do we really know the people around us and more importantly, do we know who we are underneath all the chemicals? Now there's a thought...

What would happen if we took the entire planet off their meds for just one day? I'm not talking about life saving medication, the kind that if you miss a dose you'd drop dead. I'm talking about those that keep us in an ever unconscious state of "normal"? What if all the suburban housewives stopped taking their prozac and xanax? having a good old bitch fit at hubby might be just what the doctor ordered to sort him out! How about we take the bipolars off their lithium and let them ride their rollercoasters (now that would make life interesting). Ever think there's a reason why certain people just shouldn't procreate? Especially some of our trailer park friends in Brakpan! Maybe if people stopped stuffing their bodies with crap they wouldn't need Brooklax or Imodium. Instead of taking sleeping tablets, try stay awake for a few days, now there's a buzz unlike any other! And maybe, just maybe, Hugh Hefner should lay off the Viagra. No one else at his age still bangs pinups! It's just not NORMAL!

So as I take my daily dose of Rivotril and Aropax and ponder a world without medication, I shall leave you with the wise words of Karen Walker..."And there I was, thinking SPEED was a feel-good movie about amphetamines...”

Miss Jones

Stoner Dog!

2011-06-02T16:27:00.003+02:00

I have just had the most uhm... surreal experience. I was in the kitchen with my son (relax, he's 21) making 'Jamaican seed loaf' for my Doberman Samson. While my son was busy preparing the weed he says deadpan:

"And you say we never do anything together Mom" Lolz....

He's quiet for a while then he says:

"So is Samson going to be a Stoberman now?" Hahahaha!

I can't help wondering how many mothers have had the experience I just did.

Anyway, I did mention in my last blog post that I'm prepared to try ANYTHING to help my Sammie boy and a friend told me this helped for her Staffie, so why the hell not? The vet diagnosed him with acute osteo-arthritis and said there's not much they can do to help him.

It makes perfect sense to me, weed is used medicinally in the States after all and it definately helps for pain. Gawd knows, I could've used some myself while I was battling my post-op constant headache and it would have been a lot kinder on my kidneys and liver than all the painkillers I was on. I was going through life floating in a pink marshmellow anyway!! erm...

So.... if nothing else, at least Samson will be a happy dog! :-D

Wonder if I should tell the vet about this? Probably not a good idea.

Fingers crossed that it makes a difference to his comfort guys...

Geexx

God has a twisted sense of humour...

2011-05-31T11:28:00.007+02:00

First of all, my apologies for my blatant lack of blog posts the last few weeks. Most of my waking hours (and many many sleepless nights) have been occupied with my stubborn refusal to listen to the vet regarding my 12 year old Doberman, Samson. My poor boy cries most of the night away and more often than not leaves me a present in the form of a poo that he couldn't get up to make. He always looks so embarrassed when that happens...

Fuck you Mr. Vet, I WILL get him through this winter! I've spent hours trawling the net and have asked all my butterflies for advice on how to deal with the fact that his legs don't want to work anymore and he is on every single remedy that was suggested - the way I see it something has to work!

As I write this I am still out of breath from the exertion of getting him on his feet. Ok, I did cheat a bit.... I mixed his food with some lovely oxtail stew and kept moving the bowl a few feet away to try to force him to move his poor old legs, even though it meant pushing him up from behind and holding him there. I'm very grateful that I have a strapping son who is as strong as an ox that could carry Sam down the stairs to the garden so that he could get some sun. Who knew a skinny muttley like he's become can get so heavy? I feel really guilty for all the times he was in trouble after getting on his hind legs to open my cupboards, steal my bra's (always the most expensive ones for some reason) and chew them to shreds. I would happily sacrifice all those bra's 10 times over to see him have the strength to do it again.

Yesterday I got some really sad news.... A friend of mine's Dalmation, my old pal Oscar was put down after an inoperable tumour was found in his stomach. Poor Occie! I keep thinking of the night when we were on holiday visiting our friends and I walked past Occie and put my hand out to pat him - he got startled and snapped at my hand. He didn't bite me so I know he didn't mean it. He looked absolutely mortified!! Later that night he brought me one of his favourite chew treats and put it down in front of me. When I didn't take it he picked it up and sort of flung it at me as if to say 'Here, this is for you and I'm really sorry...' It breaks my heart to know that he's gone.

I was with Hawtentawt last year when he had to have his beloved Didi cat put down. She had contracted feline leukemia and there was nothing they could do to ease her suffering. What I found interesting was the fact that cats get the disease by smelling the urine of an infected cat. Cats were designed to roam, you can't cage them and there's this disease out there they get by doing what comes naturally to them? WTF!? Watching Hawts say goodbye to Didi was one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed. Ever...

YET!!!!! A Koi, a fucking fish with the personality of a plank, has got an average lifespan of 40 years but man's best friend, our lovely muttleys are considered miracles if they live past 14, just what in the blue hell is that about???

A very angry/frustrated/pissed off GeeGee

Dodgy Emails

2011-05-11T16:08:00.002+02:00

I logged into my gmail this morning to find that I had won £1.8 million! Lucky me...! Whooooop!! Finally - I can afford that private jet to fly my besties to Vegas for a kick-ass holiday where we can blow the rest on poker, midget strippers and Bollinger - keeping some aside for bail money of course. All I had to do was send some very important and personal information to the sender of said email - which was an @yahoo.com email address. Seriously?! You mean to tell me that some company that has the financial power to dole out millions on an obscure 'lottery' can't afford their own domain name? Sorry, but I can't help having a giggle at the poor sods who fall for that bullshit! How stupid does one really have to be?

A few years ago a friend of mine got a letter from Nigeria saying that the sender was a very important government minister who had millions that he needed to hide. All my friend had to do was fly to Nigeria to meet him and they could share the loot. My friend was beside himself with excitement. He bought the plane ticket (clearly First Class as he was a rich man now), had the innoculations and was ready to rumba. He'd spent most of the money in his head already and we were all going to benefit from his windfall. Two days before the flight left he got a fax from the minister saying there had been a glitch and my friend should bring R20-000 cash that would be needed to do the money transfers. Fortunately that gave him pause for thought and he phoned the consulate in Nigeria. Sad to say the consulate burst out laughing and when his mirth had finally dried up he explained how and why it was all a scam. My poor friend was out of pocket quite a bit of money for the plane ticket and the injections and all that was left of his dreams of spending the riches was a pile of smoking dung! Poor thing... I'll give him this though... he was a bit dubious in the beginning so he ran it by his father (who is the biggest intellectual snob I've ever met and fancies himself quite a bit of a genius in the world of finances) who told him it all looks above board and even helped to buy the plane ticket... I'd be lying if I said I didn't LOVE that part *cackle*

I think Gina Yashere is right on the button in this short clip... enjoy!

GeeGee xx

Guest Cow Blog: Baby tjoklits - partying with Planks

2011-05-04T14:34:00.006+02:00

There is a part of South African subculture that has always fascinated me. Always being game for a fun night out, but not always in the mood for the same things such as the doef doef at clubs, watching sports and drinking draughts at pubs, and of course, my favourite, watching live bands perform and following them everywhere like a 70’s groupie, I love going to “plank jols”. Mostly because I can watch them for hours and ponder what’s going on in their minds.

Let’s start with the people. I love the 3 litre people (one litre of brandy, a two litre coke, and a 3 litre Ford Cortina). I am convinced that they were born without give-a-fuck-o-meters, because, well, they just don’t give a fuck what they do, where they go, what language they use, how they dress, and most importantly they don’t give a flying fuck what people think of them. That’s rare in today’s society and that’s most probably why their get-togethers are so much fun. When in their presence, pretty much anything goes so you can act as uncivilised as you like and no one will judge you. If they don’t care what you think of them, why should they care what you do? There is one thing that will get you into very serious trouble at a plank party though, and that’s looking at/ talking to/ looking as if you’re looking at or asking a planks partner to dance. Planks are very possessive, and when marinated in that much alcohol, fists are bound to start flying.

The women always go all out when dressing up for dancing. You can spot that over-teased three hour blow-waved home perm from a mile away. This is usually accompanied by spandex ski pants, a low cut bedazzled top that usually has some cleverly unclever one liner on such as “your boyfriend thinks I’m hot” with the unflattering so called flesh coloured bra straps showing, way too much plastic jewelry and lets not forget the pair of golden high heels that eventually end up under a table as the evening progresses. Oh and blue eye shadow. You gotta love the blue eye shadow, bright pink cheeks and prostitute red lipstick. The men’s traditional plank party attire on the other hand, is left wanting considering how much effort the gals put in. Give them some rugby shorts, a golf shirt they can tuck into the shorts, a pair of brown sandals and a bottle of overwhelming aftershave and they’re good to go.

There are two different types of plank parties. One with a cash bar, and one where you pay to get in and bring your own booze. The latter is often referred to as a Skilpad party (because you bring your own “dop”). Either way, there’s usually only two kinds of drinks they consume, Double brandy and coke or Black Label. They also get very excited at the prospect of a Mirror ball and strobe lights. I can hardly remember the last time I saw either anywhere else but at a plank party. Also something I guarantee you will only find at a plank party is maizemeal or flour on the dance floor.

Then there’s the music. Now don’t get me wrong, some Afrikaans musicians such as Theuns Jordaan have the linguistic ability and the vocal talent to sing the clothes straight off a woman’s body but it’s the rest I just don’t get. Almost all of it has the same beat and uses the same words, just in a different order. And some of its just plain silly. I mean who cares if you have a tooter op jou water scooter? And it’s pretty common knowledge that “die bloubul” doesn’t know much about anything so why sing about it? Well I figured that one out fast enough, just look at the combined IQ of the people dancing to it.

Watching these people dance, and often joining them on the dance floor is just as much fun. Essentially, there’s 3 different dances that the couples attempt, depending on how drunk they are. First, there’s the waltz, no not the elegant Viennese waltz you go to dance class to learn before you get married or before a matric farewell, this particular version entails a concertina and hey, how hard can it be to stay on your feet while repeatedly counting 1-2-3 in your head? Then there’s the ever popular two-step. A Plank can two-step to just about anything, from Kurt Darren’s Af Af, to Kenny Rogers’ The gambler to even Brenda Fassie’s Nomakanjani. The two step isn’t all that complicated either. Take two steps and try not to fall over when you turn. Then there’s what I call Windsurfing. And in my experience, the drunker you are, the better you are at it. Keep in mind that your dancing partner has to be on the same level of soused as you or you’ll both just fall over or step on each other’s toes. This dance is best suited for more rhythmic music that artists such as Nicholis Louw, Gerhard Steyn and Eden record to the same bassline and use the word baby over and over and over again.

As the evening progresses and the brandy bottles become emptier, the females’ vocabulary decreases to mostly a single word, FOKOF, and the majority of the males are passed out either in their cars or on the tables. This is probably the best time to go home as the women become agitated because they have no one to dance with except each other, this doesn’t stop them by the way. Also, the few men that are still awake but brandied up to the eyeballs decide that now would be the best time for a gentleman’s disagreement because the bloke passed out on the bar counter across the room, looked at his vrou. Even though barbarism in any way shape or form is disgusting, the fights are highly amusing because if they can’t even lift their glasses, how are they going to lift their hands and punch someone? If they can’t aim a stream of urine at a toilet bowl, imagine how entertaining it would be to see them trying to land at least one snotklap?

So, if you’re in the mood for something distinctly different, put on some Plakkies, dust off that old Vanilla Ice or Billy Ray Cyrus cassette, paint your face all pretty, take your Cortina off the bricks and head over to Brakpan. Pak uit die polony and go party with the planks!!!

Miss Jones

Royal Wedding Pains

2011-04-28T13:51:00.005+02:00

So the Royal Wedding is coming up (not quite sure when as I don't give a shit) and the world has come to a standstill it seems. Forget the economic crises and the natural disasters that are happening worldwide. The shit that is happening clearly pales in comparison to a Royal Wedding! You can't open a magazine or channel surf without being inundated by mundane speculation of the 'what will Kate wear' kind and adverts for paste knock-offs of the engagement ring.

Clever businessmen are cashing in gazillions by selling 'commemorative' items. You can buy everything from Pizza's to tea bags to condoms (I wonder what the lovely couple think of that one! erm...) to toilet seats. My personal favourite is the fridge on the left being sold by a subsidiary of G.E. I would LOVE to know how many have been sold... As a friend of mine commented "Imagine going to your fridge for a G&T and being confronted by their grinning faces every time - creepy!" Personally, I'm pretty sure I'd have a mini heart attack if I saw them looming over me every time I went to the kitchen for a cold drink after a rough night!

I can totally understand the British being interested but the rest of the world? Really??

Do you still believe in Fairy Tales, Princesses and Unicorns? Santa is DEAD bitches and so are the tooth fairy and *gasp* the easter bunny!

Gee xx

Happy Easter

2011-04-21T11:28:00.003+02:00

Happy Easter!!!

Guest cow blog: Sangomas and Saltwater

2011-04-14T14:27:00.005+02:00

Geeg, since I am new to the whole guest blogger thing, I sometimes wonder what you may find interesting. Don’t get me wrong, my life is filled with non-stop drama and controversy, it’s just difficult to think of which stories to tell. Then I remembered this one and I felt the need to absolutely share it with you.

It’s Monday morning and the weekend has taken its toll on me. Lack of sleep and a babelaas second to none has got me firmly pinned down in my office today. I’m so not in the mood for crap today. Also, as you know, I’m just as keen on my privacy and what happens in my personal life as you are so there aren’t many people who know what’s going on behind the scenes, especially not my staff. I’ve been to hell and back in the last few months and had more than my fair share of my life as I know it fall apart, but no one knew about it except me.

Last week one of my staff members was absent for a few days. Usually a dedicated and hardworking employee, I found this strange as she is hardly ever absent. I received a strange sms from her saying that she is a prophet and has some things to take care of, she would see me on Monday. Even though I am skeptical, as her superior I have to respect her reasons, as freedom of religion is her constitutional right, and also having worked with her for three years she doesn’t have a reputation for making up tall tales or staying off work unnecessarily. So on Monday, Maria returns with a heavy burden. She corners me in my office and requests a meeting with a translator (her English isn’t very good) and we have to go immediately. Being very busy, tired and hung over, I told her that it would have to wait. I don’t have the patience or energy for this today. Eventually I couldn’t avoid her any more so off we went to the boardroom, translator in tow, to hear what she has to say.

Let the weirdness begin. The translator and I sit on the comfortable leather chairs while Maria chooses to sit on the exceptionally hard typical corporate office carpet on her knees in a praying position, her eyes closed the whole time. Bizarre. The first thing I am told is that Maria is not talking to me, my ancestors are... Uhm ok... Doing my best not to giggle or get up and leave I continue to listen. I’m a very skeptical person, I hardly believe in astrology, never mind the supernatural or African magic. Maybe I’m still drunk 'cos I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. I am then told that there are people envious of my past successes and that these individuals are trying to “witch” me by way of Sangomas and muti and they are starting to use more evil and powerful means to harm me and if I do not listen I will lose everything and might even die...! At this point I am finding it extremely difficult not to burst out laughing... These people are putting Muti into my morning coffee, cursed my chair, and continually use concoctions on my machinery and equipment to keep me under their evils. At this point I’m convinced she’s taking the piss and wasting my time. The only frightening part is the bit about my coffee, I shudder to think that I might have consumed bat wings with ferret liver and eye of newt. Think about it, she says, and starts unpacking all that’s the matter in my life. Now I’m thinking, bitch you have five minutes to get to the point because I’m getting agitated. And then my subconscious starts whispering... how does she know? When things do go wrong in one’s life, we expect the answers to come from a sexual (what the fuck?) or religious (Oh my god!) place, but is it that far fetched that it might come from the supernatural (Holy Sangoma??)

Being officially freaked out, I sit upright waiting patiently for her to tell me how to remedy the situation. She says that if I do exactly what she says the curses that they’re sending my way will bypass me and go straight back to the people trying to do this. Not knowing much about their cultural beliefs, I’m anticipating live chickens, bones and goat’s blood and there must surely be something about a virgin in here somewhere. What I hear next shocks me even more. She tells me that if I want to get rid of the evil spirits in my working environment I have to spray the department as well as my office and the dreaded evil chair with water (normal tap water) that she will bless. Then at home I have to spray the house with seawater. Then to lift the curse indefinitely and to complete the ritual I have to drink diluted seawater and put some in my bathwater. No goats, no chicken, no blood, no bones and no virgins. Darn!

Let the ritual begin. After the rest of my staff goes home Maria sends me to the kitchen with a plastic container to get fresh water from the tap. She then closes all the doors and begins to chant at the top of her voice. I’m petrified that one of the bosses is going to walk in and have the both of us committed but strangely enough they never come. Now it’s time to spray the water. As we do this, it seems as if the environment is getting lighter, less heavy and less dark, placebo effect or maybe I’m still drunk? All I know is, if anyone ever decides to review the CCTV footage of my department for that day, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do. The next day she brings me two bottles of Lotus Seahorse Pure Seawater from Kwa Muti Wholesalers. And being a coastal child I know seawater when I see and taste it so I trust that Maria isn’t trying to poison or kill me. She’s even labeled the bottles with usage directions, which comes in handy due to my terrible short term memory. Tonight I will take my bath in my seawater and I am currently forcing this foul tasting concoction down three times a day. . Have I now finally lost my mind by agreeing to do this or will the curse be lifted?

Miss Jones

Open letter to Philly

2011-04-14T11:55:00.008+02:00

When you ruined my 40th birthday party, I let it go.

When you accused me on Facebook of bullying you, I let it go.

When you made snarky comments on Facebook, I let it go.

When you told people I'm sending you hate mail, I let it go.

When you defriended and blocked me on Facebook, I let it go.

When you made up a pack of lies about me, I let it go.

When you emailed my sister a whole lot of made up stories about me, I let it go.

When you spread stories that I'm sleeping with Hawtentawt who is GAY, I let it go.

When you accused me of 'stealing the blog and all the money it cost you', I let it go - even though it was Himselfs idea to begin with and blogspot blogs are FREE.

I haven't dragged your family into this ugliness, I haven't slagged you off, I haven't accused you of anything. I literally DID move on.

Now you're making sarcastic comments on the blog as 'Anonymous' and slagging off the guest bloggers, picking on people you don't even know. Did you read the story in last weeks YOU magazine about 'Internet Trolls' perhaps?

You've become like an annoying horsefly buzzing around me that I keep trying to swat away but keeps coming back with it's filthy germs and 'Target' isn't helping.

So I'm only going to say this to you once.....

If you don't move on and leave me alone your dirty laundry will go viral faster that you can say 'Sta-Soft' and that's not a threat, it's a promise.

GeeGee

Guest cow blog: People and their ways...

2011-04-11T12:56:00.006+02:00

Last week was one surprise after another. I’ve been flipped off, hit on and misunderstood. Twice!!! It started Monday morning with a simple list of errands... green grocer > dry cleaner > post office and bank... Needless to say it didn't work that way!!! Lmao! The green grocer didn't have what I was looking for, on my way to the dry cleaner I had a 'typical woman' moment going over my list in my head, never realizing my car was still in 3rd gear o.O! Stalled when trying to pull away and pissed off the big macho man behind me :P He raced past me only to be caught by the red light *snicker* I was my usual sunshiny self and gave him an ovation... he flipped me off... he got a smile for his trouble and TWO thumbs up and sped away when the light went green.... Still giggling I ended up right behind him at the next red light.... Now I was laughing my ass off behind the steering wheel... I smiled my biggest and brightest smile and gave him the queen wave when he looked in his rear view mirror.... BWAHAHAHAHAHA He was not a happy camper :P

Ended up at the same green grocer again after a long chat with myself and a big compromise only to be hit on by an 80 year old "oomie" that told me a rather PG13 dirty joke ...had a giggle ... got a hug and off he went ... the joke: "Hun ... my wife was two years younger than me and when she got sick the doctor had to do a house call... needless to say he needed her full medical history and he asked her ..... “Ma'am ... have you ever been bed ridden?” to which my wife replied “Them were the days doctor ... them were the days!!!” lol

And then I got taught the lesson of how you can't expect idiotic strangers to understand REAL humour and not just stupid sarcasm hahahaha Don't get me wrong ... at the right time sarcasm is absolutely brilliant... eh ... couldn't give a hoot anymore ... bored to tears with it ... a friends’ son taught me a life lesson and he was at the tender age of 16 ... “There are two kinds of people on earth ... people that like me ... and people that can go fuck themselves” There's a lot of the latter!! he he he

Till my next errand run and wonder in the streets of dumb and stupid ... have a good day.

Sincerely yours

Daloris

xxx

Why You Should Lock Your Door

2011-04-06T12:30:00.002+02:00

I saw this on Jay Leno last night and I was crying! I haven't laughed so hard in a long time, I swear I felt like I was high afterwards. Seeing as laughter is good for the soul I thought I'd share this...

Enjoy!

Gee xx

Guest cow blog: Salutations to the straight girl

2011-04-04T11:32:00.004+02:00

In a world full of labels, none is used more affectionately or worn more proudly than that of fag hag or lettie bag. These are terms commonly used for our straight sisters, the ones that proudly wear their "gay for the day" t-shirts at Pride, the ones we drag with to clubs knowing that there's not a snowball's chance in hell that they'll pick up a date there, the ones we go shopping with that cheer on our sometimes ridiculous choices, the only ones we phone in the middle of the night when our hearts are broken, the VIP guest at our dinner parties, the only person you won't bitchslap when you ask "do these jeans make my ass look fat" and they say yes, the ones that dump their boyfriends for calling you a moffie, the only person in the world that will never say no to finishing a bottle of booze or a 2 litre tub of ice cream with you and someone you feel most comfortable with lazing around the house in your PJ's.

Being a little lezzy in a big scary judgemental world, I don't think I would have been where I am today, Out and Proud, fighting the good fight, if it hadn't been for my bags. Ask any homo, fag, queen, king, lesbo and dyke and they will tell you, we all have at least one enriching our lives. And when asked about mine, someone very specific comes to mind. Maybe that's because of her astounding transformation from bitchy, judgemental, abrasive homophobe to my bitchy, rude, abrasive best friend lettie bag. As these things do tend to happen, I was very rudely outed by a very insecure neanderthal at a social gathering and subsequently made the fool of at our local watering hole with jokes such as..."I'd be careful if I were you, she's trying to get you drunk so she can take advantage". It took me 3 years to build a bond, one I thought was fairly strong, and just one sentence to break it down.

The Ice Queen, as she's known, did not speak to me for about a month after finding out. So one day I decided to pick up the phone and give her a piece of my mind. What blew me out of the water was the reason why she was so upset. Yes, she wasn't fond of queer folk, but it seems as if the fact that I hid it from her, upset her more than the fact that I batted for my own team. I apologised and comforted her with the fact that if I didn't make a move on her when she was unaware of my sexual preference, why would I do it now that she knows. She, in turn, gave me a very stern warning, that should I ever touch her, I would land up in hospital, but despite this, we can try and work on the injured friendship.

In the weeks following the incident, there were a few awkward social interactions, but it started feeling as if things were slowly returning to normal, or so I thought. I had already come to terms with the fact that the friendship would never really be the same, but in a bizarre twist of events things had started changing in ways I could never even have wished for and her astonishing transformation began. We saw each other every day of the week, except for Tuesdays, as this was our "rehab" day. Mondays was dinner at my place, Wednesdays were reserved for "plank" nights. (Sakkie Sakkie on the west rand) Thursdays and Fridays at the pub, Braai and Booze on Saturdays and Tempo's with the mother of all hangovers on Sundays. Each of these ritualistic days came with it's own unique set of challenges as well as opportunities for the Ice Queen to grow into her role of lettie bag.

On Plank Wednesdays, she would tell old drunk overbearing men, that I'm her bitch and she only dances with me, at the pub she would give the buffaloes with the insulting one liners and earful, on Saturdays after one too many drinks, we would pull out the Singstar and serenade each other with songs like "I've got you babe" and on Sundays we'd wake up next to each other, yes, in the same bed (and no, nothing sexual ever happened), wondering how the hell we got home and swearing off drinking for good. But what surprised me the most was what happened at a dinner party one fateful Monday night.

Much like Cinderella, I was cursed with two evil stepsisters. Except that they had no interest in Prince charming, but in me and they weren't too subtle about it either. They came over for dinner on this day, and as per usual, The Ice Queen and my beard, Marius, were there as well. After one too many physical advances from the sisters, I could see The Ice Queen losing her temper as I jumped from corner to corner trying to avoid them. The next minute all hell breaks loose as a lover's spat erupts unlike any you've ever seen before. "last night I proved to you how much I love you and you go and do this to me", she shouts at the top of her voice. Before I get a chance to even get a "huh?" out, she starts screaming some more. "I give up men for you and this is the thanks I get? You playing Jerry Springer with your stepsisters right in front of me?" Now the little light bulb goes on and I play along, but Marius just sits there, having no clue what's going on, he doesn't know where to stick his head in and doesn't say a word. A little slow on the uptake methinks. After about twenty minutes of the two of us trying very hard not to burst out laughing, the sisters decide it's time for them to leave very quickly and they wheelspin out of there.

Of course there were plenty of opportunities for me to reciprocate, which I gladly did. Like when everyone got way too hammered at one of her house parties and took it upon themselves to sleep over. I was merrily greeted by "bitch you had better sleep next to me tonight, I don't want any of these creeps getting ideas" and on countless occasions I was summoned out of bed in the middle of the night to be the shoulder to cry on and the one threatening to kick the shit out of the man that just broke her heart.

So I would like to raise my glass and propose a toast to our straight sisters, our lettie bags, our fag hags, our shopping companions, our drinking buddies, our shoulders to cry on and our chinas with vaginas. We salute you, we love you, and we cannot possibly imagine our lives without you!

Miss Jones

The end of Philly and I...

2011-03-30T11:24:00.005+02:00

It's been about a month since my last blog post because I've been in mourning for Philly. She's not dead - she's just dead to me.

I'm not going to get into a public mud slinging match, suffice to say that what she did on my birthday was the LAST straw on a great big thatched roof of straw and our friendship came to such a sudden screeching halt that you could smell burning rubber for miles around. And no (oh, I know this is what so many of my gossip loving gay friends are wondering - sorry to disappoint you bitches *cackle*) she did not sleep with my husband, nor I with hers....

Let me make one thing clear: I'm not writing this out of anger. I admit, I was incandescent with fury after the incident but now that I'm older and *ahem* wiser I gave myself a month to reflect and calm down. I'm not angry - I'm disgusted, hurt and disappointed - but not angry. Not anymore. I have consulted my elders, oracles, friends and anyone who was willing to pretend to listen before I decided what to do.

I've locked her out of the blog. Before you gasp in shock and horror, just know that it was Himself's idea to begin with. I strongly suspect it was to give me something to do to keep me out of his hair... clever man!

I'm shattered, hurt and heartbroken to have lost my best friend of 12 years but I take great comfort in the fact that I still have many wonderful, caring friends in my life. So what if a lot of them are gay!! Hahaha

So Philly - this song goes out especially to you....

Ok, so now this whole thing is up to me and guest blog posts are welcome. You can rant, rave, praise, gossip, swear like a sailor, speak your mind... anything goes! If you want to remain anonymous just put a pseudonym at the end of your post.

Mail me at geegeecurtained@gmail.com.

Love you all!!

GeeGeexx

American Idol 2011- Christine McCaffrey

2011-03-02T15:17:00.001+02:00

This girl... ooh! What can one say except that she's walking proof there's a reason for white vans driven by large men in white coats who take you to a place with good drugs, padded walls and jackets that trap your arms around your body.... If I was one of the judges I'd be doubling my security - girl has a distinctly crazy ass glitter in her eyes. Scary man, scary!!!

Gee xx

Fucked up at 40? I think not.....

2011-02-23T11:42:00.008+02:00

Philly dahlink!

With my 40th looming I feel like people are circling me like vultures waiting for me to have a mid-life crisis. It's so bad that I almost feel compelled to have one so that they're not disappointed. You know, go have everything that can possibly be pierced, pierced. Have myself inked, tramp stamp and all. Get a toyboy, or take a lover that's mostly gay. Start tarting myself up like mutton dressed as lamb and go hang out at the clubs where people will think I'm someone's mom who's there to pick them up. Oh laaawdy, can you imagine? Hahahaha.....

What they don't seem to get is that if I'm at the middle of my life now it means I'm going to iron my wings when I'm 80. You and I both know that we're determined to be at least 95 together, hanging out at the nursing home and causing so much trouble that our families will repeatedly be asked to transfer us somewhere else... Late nights getting lampshaded on secret stashes of Gin, wheelchair races in the corridors, illegal poker games with all the rich old geezers and so on.

I already went through the whole 'what have I achieved in my life' angst after the brain tumour op ange. Nobody was more surprised than I was when I woke up afterwards, I really thought I was going to buy the farm that time, and I'd made my peace with it. I've spent the last 2 years very introspectively dazed and confused (ok, drugged out of my scull too!) but I've reached a lot of conclusions and made a lot of changes. I've been brutal about cutting people out of my life - the ones that suck your aura dry - and I feel a lot lighter for it. I've become completely intolerant of bullshit and very good at saying what I think - gets me into trouble sometimes but I really don't give a shit. I also don't care what people think of me anymore, it's incredibly liberating! So seriously ange, if that's what getting older means I'm all for it! I'm taking a leaf out of my aunt's book - she started a PK list when she turned 50 - I'm just starting mine at 40, everyone I've ever wanted to give a good solid Poes Klap is going to be on it!

As for not wanting to be fat and forty... well fuck that! I'd rather be a fat juicy mama than look like this poor cow on the right!! kekekekeke

Love ya darl!!

Geexxx

P.S. I know you say I have a mini mid-life crisis in The Rabbit Hole every weekend, but that's not my fault! I blame the Hooligans and the copious amounts of tequila they force me to drink for that... yaaaarrrr!

Caffeine overdose....

2011-02-16T14:32:00.003+02:00

Philly!!

I finally got my hands on the vid of Scooter (one of Himsef's guys) at work acting like he's at a rave! lol! Guess he had too many espresso's! hahahahaha

A perfect example of why money doesn't buy class...

2011-02-09T11:08:00.002+02:00

Philly darling.....

I'm ashamed to say (ok, not really ashamed - just thought I should put it out there to see how it sits) that this morning the saying 'money does not buy class' could be 100% applied to me. I was busy having my first morning coffee and as you know, anyone who tries to talk to me before that first coffee never comes away feeling very uhm... satisfied. Anyway, there I was, peacefully looking out over the valley with my cuppa java when all hell broke loose outside. Bella my Golden Retriever and Apollo my Doberman were going absolutely apeshit! After about 5 minutes of this I go to the window to investigate. You know our lovely neighbours, the Embassy from some God-forsaken African country? Well, one of the piccaninnies that live there was throwing stones at my dogs!

"Hey! Stop that!" *through the window in my sternest voice*

He has the bloody cheek to throw another rock, waggle his bum at me and stick his tongue out!! Well ange, clearly that was me! Before I knew it I was outside in my robe, pyjamas and slippers trying to climb the 6 foot dividing wall. All I was focused on was getting my hands on that little shit and showing him what a crazy ass white bitch is capable of first thing in the morning if you mess with her muttleys. I don't know what would have happened if my son hadn't come outside to see what the commotion was about and pulled me off the wall.... I don't even want to think of the image Shadrack now has in his head of his madam being held off the floor by her son, arms and legs flailing in her pink pj's and fluffy slippers....

This incident brought to mind a couple of months ago when I was walking our dogs in the park around the corner with our dog psychologist. There are massive signs everywhere telling people to keep their dogs on the leash but the next thing we knew there was this ugly ass dog that looked like a hyena (I kid you not!) trying to bite Bella! Ange, you know how gentle she is, wouldn't hurt a fly and this thing is nipping at her flanks and legs. Two black women wearing t-shirts with clenched fists on them come strolling over the rise and shout for us to leave their dog alone.

"We're not touching your dog, please put it on a leash" *politely*

"We don't have to do it just because you say so" WTF???? huh?

"It's the law, read the signs" *doing my best to keep cool in front of the dog psychologist*

"You white bitches can't tell us what to do, we're diplomats" OMG ange.... clearly that was me and all previous thoughts of decorum flew right out of my head. I made such a scene that two old white men who were there in a bakkie full of black workers came running. I could just picture the headline: Housewife and Dog Psychologist Start Race Riot on the Ridge

It got ugly ange, really ugly. At one point the dog lady was holding me back because all I could see was red and I wanted to smack the sanctimonious smirk of that bloody woman's face oh so badly. She was in my face, spittle flying, shouting that we tortured black people! Me??!!! I shouted back that I've never tortured anyone but would be more than happy to start with her. Things only ended when I told them that one signal from me and Apollo would rip all their throats out, starting with their dog. Gawd, one would think that one could walk one's dogs in peace... clearly not.

Dollies, I like living on the Ridge, but these bloody diplomats really get to me. We PAY to live here yet they act like they own the whole neighbourhood while they're happily living the high life off their countries' gravy trains. Oh, and while on the subject of gravy trains - since Missus Z No. 5 has moved into the street our electricity bill has gone up by loads, funny that... I'm not a racist doll, but days like that, when I'm exposed to reverse racism at it's ugliest, I tend to waiver in my beliefs. I wish we could move to Europe doll, I hate living in Africa, especially Gauteng, but Himself is too much of a patriot. He can't understand my lack of it, but is it my fault my forefathers got lost at sea???

Himself says I'm going to get myself arrested one day....

Time for a voddie shot methinks, I'm all worked up all over again.

Geexx

Caffeine overdose

2011-01-26T16:30:00.002+02:00

Hi Phills...

Sneaky video Himself's guys took of one of his guys (we'll call him Scooter) on a caffeine overdose *-)) Clearly we HAD to load it onto YouTube... Anyone working there should know better than to ever trust that lot when it comes to practical jokes! I'm on the floor! Can't wait for his response when he realises he's gone viral.... kekekekekekeke

Running Wilde - thanks for wasting an hour of my life...

2011-01-25T22:31:00.008+02:00

Philly!

We just finished watching the second episode of a new show on Series called 'Running Wilde'. Oh my fucking soul!! In a nutshell it's meant to be a sitcom about this stupidly rich dude - think Richie Rich of the comics genre - who tries his best to impress this chick who used to be his parents' housekeepers' daughter and is a bleeding heart who lived in some ass end of the world village in the rain forest for 7 years dragging her poor daughter along for the 'ride' where they lived on leaves and worms. Said daughter then talks rich guy into rescuing her from her mothers madness. Am I a really really bad person that the only reason I might carry on watching this bullshit is in the hopes that someone would stab the leading female character in her fucking self righteous face? Lead dude wants to throw a fabulous party (as one who can does) and she takes him to the equivalent of Makro to shop for it!! Can you cope?? No bubbly, no canapes, no live entertainment... Just alcohol free beer (what's the point of that? who drinks beer for the taste anyway?), nasty massive budget packs of crisps and those red twirly sticks that taste like I can only imagine dick cheese would that people eat in movies when they're trying to give up smoking. Rich dude rolls over and allows this madness even though she hasn't even indicated that he might get lucky..... as if there's even a remote possibility that it might happen in real life! Rich dudes guests leave in what could almost be labelled a stampede even after he tries to tell them it an 'ironic' party... surprise, surprise..... Yeeesssss, I KNOW it's only a show doll, but I can't help thinking that what we get fed on telly is a reflection of the world as we know it.

What a fucking load of bollocks!!

Love ya dollies!

Gee xxx

P.S. You guessed it doll, too much voddies and no food - this is what happens... yaaar haardehaarhar! .... but I still hate that fucking show.....

P.P.S. Ok, that's me sending myself to 'time out' in bed before I really get up to no good... *-)

Last P.S! In my own defense doll - Himself has telly tuned to the Crime Channel now and it's one of those late night shows where they show the pics of the bodies and this one has BITES out of it - human ones!! Jaysus dude, we live in South Africa where it's almost considered a sport amongst the indigenous people and you expect me to sleep after this???? Helloooooo..... No wonder I'm distracting myself... erm... Bella had better not growl at phantoms in the bedroom tonight.

Don't Tell Me You're Gay!

2011-01-25T15:20:00.010+02:00

Daaarlings!!

As you very well know, I’m a huge fan of drag queens because they’re like fuck you butterflies who don’t give a shit what anyone thinks about them and I LOVE my gay friends to pieces – they’re so much fun! I’m not usually one to judge, but seriously dollies, few things irritate me as much as a closet queen. I mean really, who are they kidding? And their wives... oh dolls, their wives... have they been lobotomised or are they so far down that river called denial (not the one in Egypt) that they don’t know their men prefer cock when it’s so painfully obvious to everyone else?

I was sitting in the lounge the other day when an agent brought some people round to view the house when it was still on the market. All I saw through the window was a fabulously flamboyant man limp-wristing, mincing, lisping, prancing and dancing through the garden and I thought “great, done deal, this house is a party palace, perfect for a gay couple... whoohooo” Happy bubble burst 5 minutes later when his wife (!) who looked like a little brown sparrow next to him walked in carrying a baby on her hip. I have a sneaky suspicion that my jaw did actually drop. Now, seriously, the pub downstairs is the best party place and man cave ever, and when the agent showed the man the pub he barely looked at it twice and I swear I could see a speech bubble above his head saying “bitch please, i don’t drink at home, i go cruising for cock”

I had a friend for many years, Himself always said her toes looked like slap chips, but I digress. Anyway, she was dating a man in his 30’s for four years and all he ever did was kiss her. Once. This man took her to see all the best musical theatre productions *jazz hands*, took it upon himself to be her stylist , shopped with her at all the best boutiques... wonderful, yes. For a gay best friend. She could never understand why she was told that rule # 1 was Never. Visit. Unannounced. Woman please, that’s because he's having ‘special time’ with his ‘special friends’. Angels, she honestly thought he never tried to put moves on her because he respected her! Poor thing was devastated when he came out to her and to this day she is trying to pray the gay out of him.... Bless!

I have another friend I’ve known for almost 20 years who shall remain nameless – one of my drag queen friends has dubbed him the ‘Jimmy Swaggart Faggot’ because he’s ‘born again’. (By the way, the same drag queen told me he always knows when a potential lover is 'straight' or married if the guy asks him to keep his bra and high heels on in bed...) Anyhoo, for the first 5 years we were friends I accepted him as gay. I did his make-up, we played dress up, great fun. Imagine my surprise when he introduced his girlfriend to us one day, I almost choked on my vodka. So, they get married and they have 2 kids. He swears to me that he’s straight. I pretend to believe him. 3 months ago he’s visiting with us when Hawtentawt comes rushing into the pub with eyes as big as saucers. Mr ‘Straight’ went to stand behind Hawtentawt outside and started fondling his ears, then asked him if they could meet up at Q-Bar – a gay bar here in town! Personally I think Hawts could have taken one for the team so that I could out that fucker once and for all. It just pisses me off that he has huge opinions on homosexuality and religion / adoption / marriage – to the point where we have stand up arguments and then he’s so deeply fucking closeted he hasn’t seen anything but dust bunnies for years!

Be yourself, be true to yourself, respect yourself and the world will do the same back – and if they don’t, well fuck them.

I just LOVE this Jackie Beat clip, the lyrics had me on the floor. It's goes out specially to all the girls out there who are in love with closet queens. I'm very very tempted to email it to certain wives... *cackle*

Enjoy!

Geexxx

P.S. Apparently I tripped and fell on a gay penis - so I was told - but that's a story for another day... *-))

Our first guest cow blogger!!! - we'll call her 'Baby Cow' for now ;)

2011-01-24T12:51:00.000+02:00

Hey there Gee Gee and Philly!

Apologies for being so quiet lately but as you know I've recently swapped my real job for being a newly wed housewife. Sounds easy I know but don't be fooled!

Spent the weekend with the new in laws and met the extended family for the first time. Ended up getting totally trashed the first night! Ran out of ciggies and decided it's a good idea to go buy some at 2am even though I'm totally night blind. Flattened my sister in law's garden tap while attempting to dodge the gate with hubby's beloved Volvo that looked like a double decker bus through my Vodka glasses! Car seems fine, just as well since hubby would have had a minor heart attack if I damaged his mechanical wife..lol!

Woke up the next morning with the hangover from hell just to find out that about 20 family members will be joining us for a braai soon. Thank God for Redbull!!

My sister in law and I spent about 4 hours (!) in the kitchen making 2 salads while trying to avoid those we could just not face sober. The kinda family members you have to pretend to like if you know what I mean?! We all have those :p

Some dutch courage later we decide to head outside to socialize only to find my 3 yr old Dennis the Menace proudly waving his willy at everyone while peeing off the side of the trampoline! He would decide to make me look like mother of the year at a time like that!

Left on Sunday smelling pretty damn gross after a hectic weekend thanks to the water being off from 7am to 5pm. Had a lovely weekend apart from the few mishaps but it's still damn good to be home!!!!

After washing what felt like a years worth of washing, restoring some kind of order in my home and getting a full nights sleep for a change I decide to attempt making homemade pizza for dinner to surprise the kids. I accidentally put twice the ingredients for the pizza dough in the breadmaker to save time and the damn dough exploded all over my kitchen! Not sure the breadmaker survived it either thanks to it conveniently not be water proof inside...wtf?! Don't they think of these things happening before they design gadgets?

Hours of cleaning sticky dough off walls, counters, ceilings etc. hubby gets home and the kids get stuck into making their pizza's. A few minutes in and already there was flour, cheese and ham all over the bottom level of my house and the kids too. The power went out about 3 times during the baking process just to add some excitement..lol! Just as I was about to clean up and bath the kids our water goes off as well!!

Wiped down my angels with a facecloth and bottled water, tucked them into bed and went to hide beside hubby in bed hoping that I would wake up the next morning having dreamt it all. No such luck! I just put on my blinkers and pretended not to have OCD at this point..lol!

Who am I kidding? I spent the rest of the week cleaning and having one disaster after the other and to add insult to injury my hands broke out in a nasty rash overnight. It's official, I'm allergic to cleaning!

Don't get me wrong, I love having more time with the kids and being around when I'm needed but I think it might be best if I go back to work and pretending to be a great mommy and wife while someone else does the shitty jobs for me!

At least being a housewife means never having to worry if you're doing your job properly since no one actually notices what you do anyway..lol!

I best get back to playing house, maybe it will get easier tomorrow!

Love ya all

P.S Did I mention we have a new puppy? Little Chilli had to be bottle fed and is currently old enough to shit all over my paving and has flooded my back yard 3 times by pulling out the washing machines pipes. I'll save the rest of this story for another day. I'm just sooo not a doggy person!

(What fun to have a guest blogger! If you want to send a post mail to twofatcows@gmail.com If you prefer to remain anonymous let us know and our 'lips' are sealed! The Cows xx)

New Years Eve - lost in a blur...

2011-01-12T13:35:00.003+02:00

My dearest Philly...

I had a really good time on New Years eve - so I was told anyway. The last memories I have of the night are at around 10pm but Himself tells me I only went to bed at 4am. I am convinced, CONVINCED I tell you, that I was roofied! I have tried and tried to remember but I have a sneaky feeling that my brain is protecting me. Ever had one of those moments? When I start thinking about it I get a nervous twitch in my right eyebrow... the strangest thing. If I piece together the 'evidence' the next day I think it's a good thing I remember nada. Please darling, I'm going to list the 'evidence' and tell me what you think?

* My hair was so full of Lupini Sambucca that it looked like I had dreadlocks - man that shit is hard to wash out!

* To this day I can't find the jeans I was wearing that night

* I had a lump the size of an egg on the back of my head

* I had 4 perfectly round bruises on each ass cheek

* I had a juicy purple bruise on each shoulder blade

* There are pictures of Ol' Loudmouths lady dancing around with her top off

* There are pictures of Tony Polony with a pink g-string on his head

* I was walking like John Wayne for two days

Do you see why I'm wondering ange? Do you SEE? I really am getting too old for this shit....

Maybe it's a good thing I only party hard in my own pub, I'm pretty sure it would only be a matter of time before I end up like this poor lunatic on the left and I'm way too much of a germaphobe to go to prison, even for one night and besides, you know how much the diesel dykes love me!

Rock on sista!!

Gee xxx

Philly's Birthday - one for the books!!

2011-01-10T12:18:00.001+02:00

Philly Daaaarling!

I have finally, finally gotten my brain back to the point where I can string a coherent thought together... PHEW! I was starting to get a wee bit concerned, just a wee bit, mind you. Thank you so much for the holiday at yours sweetie darling, we had a blast. Sorry about the fan I managed to burn out after 2 days, but you know I'm not meant to overheat doll, doctors orders. Fecking plate in head!! No sun for me again - ever. Can you cope? Oh well, maybe I'll become a middle aged goth and stand around looking pale and misunderstood in malls *ahem*

Your birthday weekend in Brittannia Bay was fabulous doll, don't listen to a word the buzz killers are saying. I had a feeling we were in for a mad weekend when our hubcaps went out to the nearest town of the 'blink and you might miss it' kind for supplies and came back looking goggle eyed from culture shock.

"You guys won't believe this but there was an obese old white man flashing his bits at people passing by and the only shop had an obese girl in a skin tight swimsuit with a cigarette hanging from her lip. Then we noticed she only had one arm and it looked like she'd lost the other one in a fight. Things went from bad to worse when we asked her how long the take-away russians were...." Hahahahaha, oh ange!

Oh boy, the second night when the first of the other five couples arrived.... I'll admit I was a bit nervous at the thought of meeting a certain heiress because as you know, I do tend to misbehave when I'm meant to do the opposite (always wondered what that's about?), and I thought I'll have to be on my best behaviour - this woman grew up in the lap of luxury after all and is Cape Town Society.... I swear to the gods of hedonism that I thought I was on a hidden camera prank show when she plonked herself down in front of us, put her one leg up on the sofa and announced "I have a beautiful cunt". WHAT. THE. FUCK!? Jaysus! She's obviously so self absorbed that she didn't notice the shocked silence... And poor Himself ange! Remember when she turned to him and said "Nice bulge". Poor man pretended he didn't hear her...lol! She was on a roll that night darl, throwing batting eyelashes his way, telling him he's got nice diamonds in his watch (didn't ever think a bevelled edge could be mistaken for diamonds, but what does a pleb like me know?), announcing how horny she was! Bitch puuhleease.... just because you're too dumb to realise that the reason your man doesn't shag you is because he's a closet queen and you're his beard, don't think mine will touch you - not even with someone else's cock. My favourite part was the exchange between them when she was going on about whiskey and Himself says he prefers beer.

Her: "Oh, I like my stomach"

Himself: "So do I"

Her: "Oh! Thanks!!" *eyelashes going a mile a minute*

Himself (deadpan): "I meant my own"

I was on the floor!!! See why I love that man so much? He later said to me: "What did she expect me to do? Say, ok then, spread that beautiful cunt and I'll insert my nice bulge? Crazy bitch!"

Fortunately she passed out early so we could get on with the serious business of having a good time. I think Himself was pleased that her 'boyfriend' *wink wink* went to bed too - the poor man was having visions of having to fight the both of them off with a stick. Really doll, how can she not know that he's in the closet? Especially after the dancing! A few drinks in and he was dancing just like Hawtentawt when he's getting his gay on.....

I had a really good time that night doll, at least Himself helped us out with the tequila (ok, just a bit). It was awesome lying under the stars with you finishing the bottle and watching the sun rise over the ocean, until 'The Crow' (they like shiny things too, don't they?) came to us at 5am and told us off for staying up! What? Bitch, who died and made you the boss of me? Ahahahaaaa, at least she flounced off and left us alone when I asked her why she's wearing a muslim bathing suit to bed....

Ok, so we were in a wee bit of shit when the rest of the guests arrived at 10am and we were still completely lampshaded! Annabella Birdland was totally unimpressed with us and I don't think I endeared myself to her husband Sourballs very much when he asked me what we had for breakfast and I said "a loaf of beer". Not a good thing to say to a man who's a complete teetotaller methinks...

Later!! When you & I were sitting with Leaf minding our own business and The Crow came up to you and blasted you out of the blue over utter bullshit! Gawd, we were all stunned into shocked silence... it took you about 5 minutes after she stormed off to react. As long as I live ange, as long as I live, I will never forget the state of pure unadulterated rage you went into. I was so PROUD! Her and her 'boyfriend' made short work of getting the hell out of there, I was on the floor! How rude to fuck with you on your birthday - at a free weekend where she is a guest? The nerve of some people.....

Oh well, after they left the drama was suddenly very much diminished so we could all have a blast. Kiwi's, Aussies, Saffers and Brits - all under one roof! After clearing the local liquor store out of all the good booze in 4 days no wonder we had a jol!

Thank gawd for Annabella Birdland though ange, if it wasn't for her we would have lived off the russians from that weird little shop all weekend.

Love ya snoobles, hope you've a great week ahead!

Gee xx

Dave the trendy Gothic

2010-12-08T10:40:00.001+02:00

Hello, my name is Kaleth. My real name is Darryl but my friends call me Kaleth. I asked them to and some of them said they would. I am a vampire and a creature of the night which is why my friends and I stand in the middle of the Mall during the day discussing bats and being misunderstood.

My cousin Justin wants to be a gothic as well but you can't just become a gothic, you are either creative and sensitive like I am or you are not. I agreed to meet him at the mall to stand in the middle and discuss bats and being misunderstood but when he got there it was obvious that his top was actually very dark blue and not black so I did not let him.

I was playing my Best of Siouxsie and the Banshees cassette really loud the other day while doing some gothic dancing and my neighbour slipped a note under my door that read "turn it down batman". He calls me batman because I painted my front door black with bats on it so that it looks like they are flying out of a cave. One of the bats has my face on it and my best friend Zothecula said that it is the best painting he has ever seen. If my neighbour knew that I could cast a magic spell that would just kill him straight away, he would be more careful.

Yes, we gothics are more creative and sensitive than you but that doesn't mean we can't all get along. We understand you so I think that you should at least try to understand us. I have made this video in the hopes of bridging the gap between us, the children of the night, and those that are not creative and sensitive. We met on an internet chat site for gothics called batsandbeingmisunderstood.com last year and now we regularly catch the bus to the mall to stand in the middle and talk about bats and being misunderstood. I met my internet girlfriend Nightblade on the same site and we had planned to get married in a graveyard at midnight but she turned out to be an old guy living in a caravan so that didn't work out.

Donna Summer perform with Prince Poppycock on America's Got Talent FINALE

2010-12-03T12:11:00.000+02:00

LET'S DANCE!! Have a FABulous weekend butterflies!

The Cows xx

Hand it to Ms Handler Please!

2010-12-01T17:59:00.000+02:00

So "Cocked-Out In The Cape"

2010-11-20T21:58:00.002+02:00

Oh GeeGee Darling girlie,

We have been hitting the hedonism on the head of late, have we not, quite hard it seems, but in good company with our playmates, they have chosen wisely :) I'm happy that 'Himself' is no longer 'lopsided' and managed to get himself out of that institution, you really mustn't let him wander off on his own after two birthday celebrations, some people think that is a bit dangerous in your posh part of the woods...Here it's called Falkenberg.. lols!!! Poor 'Tony Polony', I'm so glad his bum wasn't traumatized, some housewives really have no idea on how to manage their 'Happi Pills', it's very very sad and they end up giving the rest of us a bad rap, how are we meant to maintain our insanity if it's out in the open like that, tsk tsk, bitches! As for me, I have seven bruises and a very sore arse! I am writing to Mr Christian Louboutin to ask him to pull his bloody head in and bring down the 8 inch heels to something more manageable! We don't all have arses like Kim Kardashian to balance out our walks after 5000 vodka martinis! A very very large black man (he could very well have been a bouncer) helped me up off the floor of some club where he tried to cop a feel of my boobs!! Can you cope! Of course I swung my Gucci at him, although I proceeded to miss and all of my lovely little pills went flying out everywhere and of course the 'twenty-somethings' thought this was bloody Christmas and they disappeared faster than seagulls on chips! Wobbling out on my red soled shoes with no drugs at all was just all too much, thank god for a fridge full of MOET at home otherwise I just would not have coped! However BigShot has not seen the humour at all and hates, just hates being my drug mule!! Well, thank-god for friends in the 'burbs who understand!! But I have now taken to my Kirsty Alley party pantry, found some slutty looking jammies and will make it all good, you know how it all goes Dahlink!
Speak soon my lovely hedonistic fruitball xxx

A Hedonist's Manifesto

2010-11-17T12:14:00.007+02:00

Daaaarlings!!

As you know it was Himself's birthday so we had 2 wee shindigs for him, one on Saturday for the hooligans and one on Monday for his peeps from the office. I have finally recovered from both. Anyway, on Saturday Tony Polony was regaling us with some tales of the uhm.. interesting situations he has found himself in over the years. My favourite was something that happened quite recently... I shall tell it in his words or as best I can considering how juiced up I was on Long Island Iced Teas at the time.

"GeeGee, last weekend I was at a party thrown by a friend of a friend. Things started getting quite loud so I decided to take a little time out and went for a walk around the property when I came across the pool. There was no-one around so I took a swim in my jocks. While I was in the pool the host's wife appeared and said she was going to skinny dip and I mustn't look. I thought this was quite strange but promised I wouldn't. After a while she said she wants to get out and could I hold a towel for her but again I mustn't look. Being the nice guy that I am I complied. She got out and told me she wants to show me something, so she took my hand and led me to the sauna behind the pool where she locked the door, pushed me down, wrapped a towel on me like a nappy and covered me in baby powder! She got really hot & heavy but I got the hell out of there when she produced an oversized dummy and tried to push it up my ass!!"

Lawdy ange, as you can imagine I was on the floor! Hahahahaha! I don't know how he always ends up in these weird and bizarre situations... The conversation then turned to what the difference is between Hedonism and Depravity. The debate became quite heated and as you know we've had some enquiries about what Hedonism is since the post I wrote about Hedonism on the Ridge, so I've decided to share A Hedonist's Manifesto:

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through This Thing called Life....

We worship the unholy trinity of sex, drugs and rock 'n roll

We throw our knickers to the wind. If we're wearing any

We go where the wind blows us. (We leave our knickers just where they landed)

We live for the moment. We commit to the moment. Tomorrow is not a concern tonight

We like the night - sacred land of the Other Side. Hello darkness, my old friend

Sunrises are better than sunsets. Unless it's your second sunset without sleep

We take our full quota of statutory sick days. And 'moving' days. And 'bereavement' days. Know your rights!

If you don't ask, you don't get

We observe rules like a herd of Hindu cows (see "rule", read: suggestion)

We like life on the edge. From here you can see all the things you can't from the centre

We don't judge others' pleasures. We taste them for ourselves. We might just like them

We never say never

We make mistakes. We are 'testing our boundaries'

No regrets, no guilt, no shame

Yes to peace, love and truth

We always travel with a hip flask

Give love, get love. Give drink, get drink

Personal happiness is paramount - yours, ours, theirs

We respect the virtues of risk, taboo, controversy, freewheeling and skinny-dipping

The world needs Hedonists. Who wants to party with their accountant?

Chorus (all together now)

Be young, be foolish, be happy

You've got to fight. For the right. To party

Pump up the volume, pump up the volume, dance, dance

And if the elevator tries to bring you down, go crazy - punch a higher floor. Let's go crazy, let's go nuts, look for the purple banana, till they put us in the truck. Let's go!

You may now kiss life

Gee xx

Beach, Bush & Cock.. Tails...

2010-11-13T12:23:00.003+02:00

Oh fabulous...
Life on the beach has it moments... I do love how the beach inspires people though, you very rarely see people coming to the beach to fight, riot, murder, commit war crimes, set themselves on fire, mug people, steal, insult each other, bitch slap, steal each others shoes or do anything more unsavory than slap a seagull now and again and the definite misfortune of being chowed by a great white shark. The beach is more about LOVE, holding hands, smiling for a snap shot, naked babies, picnics and if your that game and that FRENCH, a quick shag as Gee and myself had the great fortune of er.. watching a particularly strange dry hump/pull the speedo's over a tiny bit and let it slip in very cleverly shag (?) on a Mauritian beach while having a few snacktails and cocks of our own.. We were mightily intrigued, perplexed and a bit scared to be honest that we would seriously damage our necks at some of the angles we were getting them into while trying not to be to obvious at our gawking!!....

So let me paint the picture.. You know how the French love to hang their bits out? Regardless of how they look? Oooh yes.. Speedo's on older men with paunches and lovely grey man bushes that have grown wildly out of control and pair that with tanned, elongated mature Lady boobs that resemble chipolata (french sausages) with bottoms that have a piece of very taut material up the middle to hold them up, otherwise known to you and I as a G-String, you see how this looks strutting down a golden beach, frolicking in azure waters? Now imagine that on beach loungers.. Imagine that getting frisky in the hot afternoon sun, imagine that slipping off and on top of each other, I imagine due to all of the tanning oil.. imagine those bodies that have been sun-kissed for at least 40 years half naked and very aroused..

So you won't be alarmed to hear that Gee and myself talked our hubbies into being amateur porno photogs so that we could zoom in on the action to see if we could spot the sausage?? We had just never come across free porn before, you know, make the most of it! Actually, we had had about 8/10 gorgeous Island cocktails by this stage, so you can just imagine that our lovely selves were being a bit naughty and er.. a bit loud by now and the laughter coming from our beach table did draw a few glances from the copulating couple and I think they were on to us. Could have been the gigantic Nikon lenses pointed their way? So Gee and I came up with the most ingenuous plan, oh rum and fruit, you do the wildest things.. So we decide to go hand in hand to the sand just in front but not to close to the randy Frenchophiles and... Oh yes.. Let's just say we did a very very odd impression of what we thought supermodels would do on a beach shoot! Our hands in the air, legs this way and that, sarongs flying made for one tangled and uncoordinated mess that ended up on the sand in a drunken giggling giggling heap! Poor hubbies were standing there pointing their drunken lenses at Fornicating frenchies, forgetting all about us, which clearly didn't make the whole scenario OBVIOUS! All that attention that was focused on the Fried frenchies had now turned back on us with squinty wrinkly snakey glares, they had so got our numbers and were so repulsed by us they stormed off from their beach chairs of bliss in a huff of French snobbery!!!

By this stage we were quite 'cock-tailed up' all of us and so what do you do? We order more in our beached out bliss, not considering our lack of self control, holidays, who here will we ever see again in our lives! Now we started getting 'free management' cocktails which we all thought was so hospitable of the lovely Mauritians, sure we'll accept those 3 more rounds.. We decide to leave our lovely day nest when we notice the resort crowd hovering around in their cocktail attire giving us some rather suspect glances, surely we could have changed from our sarongs and beach shorts? So we get the bill (of which I can tell you was so astronomical it was not funny) and stumble our way through the rolexes (yes, we were very tempted to hobnob, and steal) and diamonds to our little beach buggy out front.. But wait.. where are the hubbies? There one was, on the ground after tripping over a waiter with a tray full of champagne glasses, dripping from head to toe while the other was trying to give him a very very strange and lopsided hand up! We were again, on the floor in this 6 * resort, rolling around like idiots, giggling like stoners, sarongs tangling around our ankles, hair flying, flip flops long gone...

WHEN GOOD PRE-GOLF WIDOWS TURN BAD...

2010-11-10T11:04:00.003+02:00

Argh GeeGee... Hello Darhlink! Ready for a rant?

MEN MEN MEN MEN...!!!
Today I am imagining them walking around simultaneously decapitated with exploding penises..! Why does it feel like you are training a circus animal every time you give them something to do that does not relate to:
A1)SEX
A2)Business
B) Sports
C) Sports
D) Food
E) Sleep
They humor us with the pretense that they notice our mouths moving and of course nod in time , going cross-eyed, filling the space with the tv sports schedule for the evening, smiling at us when what they are really smiling at is the start of the British Open and pining hopes of glory on Lee Westwood.. You see what just happened there! (I am systematically banging my head on the table right now) Hmmm.. Me, knowing what bloody baffoonic golfer is teeing off! This horrific lack of attention is nothing new, but hopefully, given imagination and grog, we can play naughty and get away with it...

Okay, hold on.. I admit I will stop and watch for a brief millisecond if I see a flash of pale blue, a girl can get momentarily hoodwinked by Golfing fashion, we do not after all have a wide variety of choice in the male sporting catwalk arena to be choosey about.. I understand the masculinity of Golf and its fierce 'Boys Club' mentality.. I understand its stupid! To become a member of a prestigious Golf Club is almost like getting an invitation from the bloody Queen of England for an OBE! The men will wear their membership like a silent badge of greatness, buffing it up around each other, shutting out their wives and any if all femininity that has crept into their lives, it's a complete banishment and I for one think it's about time that they paid for this, after all, who really has the power?

So here I have been sitting, not a complete 'Golf Widow' like some of my friends but I'm sure they started out like me, unaware of the ape-like transgressions their men were taking one tee at a time.. So I am thinking of sabotage, subtle sabotage.. What can you do to a golf club that can be un-noticeable by hands of loving wife? Big Shot has a game in a few days and has just checked all of his clubs, given them the all clear and there they stand in the garage ready... like lambs to the slaughter... So without any research, but with so much heart, my 'Debunking Of The Game' begins... Only thing is, I'm lost... But inspiration occurs after a lovely strong voddies..okay, several then, who counts..? Sitting in the garage staring at a set of golf cubs with a bottle of 'Goose' at hand is better than sitting in there alone, right? So bag of weapons at hand, I set to work.. I know he will use a Driver first, so I leave that but the irons, Hmmm... fun.. and the putter for the first hole, that's where I must make my move. So out it comes and with my black felt marker I write "LOSER" and I flip it over and write "BALLBLOWER".. Great, that should do it.. Now whats the one's with the fuzzy tops, the woods.. Hmmm.. Out comes the pink spray can.. The first one looks so much prettier now, glittery pink and the other is a beautiful neon orange..(must put fuzzy tops back on..) So lovely, maybe I could take up golf club design, launch my own range? Now I have knowledge that 'Big Shot' usually wears his glove around the 13th hole.. What what what.. Then it comes to me in a brilliant 80's flash.. Madonna gloves! Snip, snip, snip, not a bad job, pretty even I would say.. Now what.. The 5th voddies and I'm feeling rather brave while circling the clubs like a vicious version of M in a 007 movie, but clearly hotter and with a push-up bra (and singing 'Holiday' like a tone deaf alien on crack).. Okay the last thing.. Sand wedge?? Out comes the black shoe polish and I smear it over the grip rather lavishly but not too obviously.. DONE DONE DONE!!! Hmmm, take that to the fucking club-house darling, a scotch on me, your beautiful wife!

As you may be thinking, was I considering the consequences of those incredibly intelligent actions? Noooo, of course not, pshkt! (merrily swinging Grey Goose bottle around) I had that sorted out too. You know, VODKA is amazing, a true gift full of wisdom and insight, that is why my friends, the liquid is like platinum for your brain cells! My POA (Plan Of Action) is to casually mention that the garage door seems a bit loose, making a bit of a noise, so that on said Golf day when 'Big Shot' comes home rather bamboozled, I can blame the neighborhood delinquents who must have 'broke in' to the garage as I had forgotten to turn the mechanism from 'manual' back to 'auto'.. APPLAUSE, yes yes yes! I know, I'm that good!! (dancing) NEVER would he suspect me of such puerile vandalism, never, hahahaha *cackle* So TFC'ers, there is always a 'method to the madness' no matter what they tell you! Don't listen, but don't resort to poison (that is a sure fire give away for women who kill husbands) or pushing over balconies (there is always tons of evidence the Police will find in your house) be cruel, but be kind! (if you love them, that is..) And I do love mine! 18 bloody holes when he has a perfectly manicured one at home, he'll get there! Happy Sabotaging...
Philly de Havitall

(I don't have that surname for nothing girls)

I FOUND THE FOLLOWING ONLINE AND CLEARLY COULD NOT RESIST...
IF YOU ARE A 'GOLF WIDOW' RECITE THESE GOLFING RULES.. YOU MAY NEED THEM IN PLAY..

1. Each player shall furnish their own equipment for play, normally one club and two balls.

2. Play on course must be approved by the owner of the hole.

3. Unlike outdoor golf, the object is to get the club in the hole and keep the balls out.

4. For most effective play, the club should have a firm shaft. Course owners are permitted to check shaft stiffness before play begins.

5. Course owners reserve the right to restrict club length to avoid damage to the hole.

6. Object of the game is to take as many strokes as necessary. When the owner is satisfied the play is complete. Failure to do so may result in being denied permission to play again.

7. It is considered bad form to begin playing the hole immediately upon arrival. Experienced players will normally take time to admire the entire course, paying special attention to well formed mounds and bunkers.

8. Players are cautioned not to mention other courses they have played or are currently playing to the owner of the course being played. Upset owners have been known to damage players equipment for this reason.

9. Players are encouraged to have proper rain gear, just in case.

10. Players should not assume that the course is in shape to play at all times. Players may be embarrassed if they find the course temporarily under repair. Players are advised to be extremely tactful in this situation. More advanced players will find alternate means of play when this is the case.

11. Players should assume their match has been properly scheduled particularly when playing a new course for the 1st time. Previous players have been known to become irate if they discover someone else is playing what they considered a private course.

12. The owner of the course is responsible for the pruning of any bushes, which may reduce the visibility of the hole.

13. Players are strongly advised to get the owners permission before attempting to play the backside.

14. Slow play is encouraged, however, players should be prepared to proceed at a quicker pace at the owners request.

15. It is considered an outstanding performance, if time permitting, to play the same hole several times in one match.

A touch of Hedonism on the Ridge

2010-11-08T11:14:00.006+02:00

Oh Philly darling...

What a weekend. I dirty danced with a girl, wrestled a grown man to the floor, pretended I was a spy, french kissed my gay best friend, flashed me knickers, made up the most disgusting shooters, watched people getting lap dances and just misbehaved in general.

I blame the rugby, of course.

How boring to have to sit through 2 whole matches - obviously I would get bored and give myself over to drink. Unfortunately the 2 games were hours apart which left us with a whole lot of free time inbetween and seeing as all our board games (drinking ones included) have already been packed up and sent to storage in preparation for the move, we had to make shit up.... *ahem* Why do grown ass people always mentally regress to teenagers when drunk?

Ol' Loudmouth and his lady were here too and I don't remember how but her & I ended up doing quite a dirrrty dance, let's me just say I now know what her boobs feel like and leave it at that. Next thing Himself was in there too and feeling her up for his country! The naughty man got really into it. Ol' Loudmouth seemed to think it was an open invite and started feeling my ass only to find himself lying on the floor a few seconds later. Gawd ange, I don't know where it came from but suddenly I channeled karate or something, smacked him a solid one, put a leg behind his feet and pushed him over so he went down like a ton of bricks - all in one smooth move. Was quite proud of myself. It seemed to put his lady in a good mood as the next thing I know she was pole dancing with the coat rack, then took it up a notch and gave Tony Polony a lap dance. He was protesting all the way but I was voted the one to find out if he enjoyed it and dared to cop a feel. He DID enjoy it, the bugger *-)

One of the girls that was here is convinced her man is stepping out on her and asked me if I would get a hold of his phone so she could go through it. I pretended I was the Matahari and nicked it from right under his nose, met her in the loo where she did her thang, then I put it back in front of him without him noticing a thing. *cackle*

Towards the end of the night we were making 'suitcases' with Southern Comfort and Lime instead of Jack Daniels and Passion Fruit cordial. Ugh!!! For some bizarre reason we all also started putting the camera down our pants and taking photo's... erm... I did do a damage control check the next day and thankfully all the picks are completely blurred, thank gawd.

It's been absolute donkey's years since I have played 'spin the bottle' but after copious amounts of shooters it seemed like a really fun idea *cough* Hawtentawt got first spin and it landed on me. Ooohhhhhh dearie, dearie me. Ange, what a snog. A loooong snog. A proper snog. A very unexpected snog. Lol, lol, lolz..... There was a shocked silence in the bar, and the bottle did not get another spin... hehehehehe

Ok, so moving swiftly on....

I don't remember anyone leaving or what other debauchery went on, I'm just glad that for once I had zero injuries..... Just don't know how I'm going to face Hawtentawt again, although both him and Himself think it's incredibly funny and Himself now refers to Hawtentawt as my Gusband.

Don't know what the hell is going on with me lately, maybe you're right dollies, maybe I am a gay man stuck in a woman's body. Arrrrrrrrr hardeharharrrrr.

The 'Rabbit Hole' strikes again....

Love ya funbum!

Geexxx

If your Hubby looks like this, this is how he's spending his free time!

2010-11-04T11:56:00.002+02:00

Sex Tips For Men:
How To Have Sex In Public Without Getting Caught

I see 'Four Oh My Gawd' Everywhere! (from today, maybe..?)

2010-11-03T11:40:00.000+02:00

I do, as the Month of November has silently creeped into my life with less of a bang than I thought it would, I have been conscious of the date of every day now.. I was caught unawares, caught out, my memory failing me yet again, failing to highlight my downward spiral into old age, failing to recognise that my obsession needed fuel. Instead it let me carry on with enjoying my life, letting the sound of my laughter ricochet off the walls of my prison, let me bask in the glorious sunshine with glasses upon glasses of golden Chardonnay, dragged me off kicking and screaming to lazy lunches with great friends and tall tales, pushed me through chandeliered restaurants for romantic dinners with my Hubby, stun gunned me into Sunday braai's with my beautiful family in my favourite garden in the world....

How am I too talk myself out of that one? How did I slip? How did I let the big 'Four Oh' countdown diminish into smithereens of meaninglessness? I momentarily let go of something because of it, is the only way I can justify the whole debacle... My memory just let it set sail down that grey matter river of no return where it joined the boats of forgotten birthdays, conversations, appointments, dilly and dally. Why do some set sail and others insist on boring a hole so deep into your sub conscious that no matter how many bottles of hard core liquor will get those oars in motion? Who wants to remember some useless brand of flour that your Granny baked a cake with when you were seven? I'd rather remember my anniversary please! You know, a bit like now where I have completely lost my train of thought altogether which brings me rather stupidly, I hate to admit, back to it! You see?

'Four Oh'... When people rather joking say 'It's all downhill from here', they are making light of it because it is all so true and they are only repeating what society wants them too because the reality is just terrifying! You don't want those brilliant 30 somethings starting their anti-depressants too early, where would all that beautiful creativity go, the hands of the 20 somethings? Like Dude, where's my car? But I'm not delving into that on here (there is just too much to say) but at least I'm giving you a tiny, if not disturbing, glimpse into why I stop and think about it all and why it really gives me the shivers, this ageing business and why it's also so fantastic at the same time, when you can forget about it all and just enjoy the journey, kind of, perhaps..until you meet again!

Philly Silly

Monday's are just plain strange...But that reminds me of my days as "Queen of the World"

2010-11-01T18:12:00.004+02:00

Gee,
Oh honey girl, seems like it's all bodies down the chimney at yours! Poor Southy, a product of our South African soil, wish it and it will be...one day..maybe not today, next month or year, but one day... I can only say thank god our other halves have the luxury of not lifting a finger in their own homes, could you imagine the carnage and expense that would cause? When we moved into our 1 acre property, I did not have the foresight to stop and ponder the garden, who would tend it, who would mow the lawns? I had no idea about topsoil or putting truckloads of horse/cow shit on it every year, of cutting back different species of trees and shrubs, trimming the hedges and branches off trees on boundry walls, I just thought how pretty it all looked and yes, I'll have this house please, thank you! Little did I know the maintenance of all of this would cost an arm and a leg.

I will not mention the pool, you could train the olympic swimming squad in there! All I could see were lazy summer days spent around its sparkling waters, drinking cosmo's and exchanging idle chatter with the girls, while the men manned-up around the braai.. oh so fabulous! One does not scroll down to the fine print in any fantasy, so what was to come was not exactly how I envisioned it. Fast-Forward.. Well, let's just say that looking at the pool filter had me reaching for the vodka and grabbing the yellow pages! Not knowing how to label the 'big noisy round looking thing' to the professionals was not really very endearing, they would get all crabby with me because I would not know what the hell a 'backwash' was and when it was last done or the friggin ph. balance was?? Was it salt or chlorine? Depth? What I could tell them was that I had on 'Pink Passion' nail polish which was now bloody chipped, get your bleeping asses over here.. hello? So I pulled strings (passed the buck) and got our lovely project manager to pull double duty and organise pool and garden people! A few months later I realised that living in a house with so much glass meant that you had to somehow clean that glass too, so window cleaners every 4 weeks, KACHING!! And having all that lawn meant that you now needed a Mole Man twice a month, and a full time gardener on top of your garden service, plus an extra gardener on a Saturday for I don't know what, the free lunch? As far as I noticed, the both of them seemed to adore sitting under the shade of the Gum trees eating and eating.. Since our house had doubled in size, of course our live in house-keeper needed a house-keeper and before I knew it, we were supporting our own little community of personal drivers, personal security, personal what what what for????? How did this run away from me? Was I completely bamboozled? Yes, probably.. the gravy train was in full 'choo choo rip off mode' and there I was in the middle of it, scratching my head and wishing I had just had a moment to reflect before my heart ruled my head and I bought a property that was way too big for a couple with no-children but who lived for the summer season of 'Al Fresco' entertaining and having a house full of lop-sided friends, but we could have gone out more or hired catering!! I must have thought I was the bloody Queen of England and I am so embarrassed by it all now of course!

In this country it is rather daunting to just fire your staff, you have to follow very strict rules otherwise your lilly white (or any colour ) ass is sucked dry for a year's wages if you are not carefull! So we eventually sold our big huge lovely (money pitt) beautiful house (it was after I had my way with her) and ran away from our creepy crawly staffers! Yes, we hid! I am not ashamed, I figured that the amount of stuff that had gone walkabouts over the years with not one of them having one idea how a garden table could just vanish before their eyes, how garden umbrella's just walked out of the driveway with the lawnmover and leafblower and tennis ball machine?? How did playstations, cd's and games grow legs and vanish with copious amounts of sugar, rice and coffee? Not to mention the booze, It took me a while to figure out that the gin/any white spirit bottles had all been refilled with water! One year we came back early from a holiday and found the staff had thrown themselves a party with 25,000 of their closest friends and family all in the pool and lounging all over my cushions, having a chicken braai and listning to our cd's on our very very expensive sound system while having a game of pool on Big Shot's imported Italian slate table?? Let's just say I cannot write what went down after that.. *ahem* Fuck that, you can perhaps expect that from your teenage children, but with people that you pay, to ruin your house? Oh the 'Rainbow Nation' !! Zuma has so much to answer for that it makes me shudder and cringe at what his message is doing to this country...

So we are now back to basics, living by the beach, enjoying our lives, breathing clean air and sleeping well at night with a small garden that is just lawn and sand now and again and that is how it is going to stay thank you! It is true, happiness is where the heart is, you know, some glorious shoes in the dressing room, some lovely holidays, a nice car, good entertainment, great hair, some kick ass bling... it is a good life after all!
Lessons learnt are rather invaluable sometimes... Yes Eve, we will have foie gras tonight, go kill the goose with Lucky, we will wait...
Philly x
ps
I know it's me, I cannot rule with an iron fist, I cannot iron full stop!

Aaaah Mondays!

2010-11-01T12:09:00.003+02:00

Philly darling...

I think Southy our mad groundsman has finally lost the plot! You know how absolutely stir crazy he can drive me... I've just spent 20 minutes arguing about the pool - or rather the pond as that is what it resembles now. We've been here 7 years and it's never been this green. Southy holds fast to the story that it's the tree behind the pool that's dropping leaves and the more I try to tell him that in 7 years it's never been a problem the more he argues. Arrrgghhhh! Himself told him this morning that he should get pool people out but he insists that he can sort it out. Maybe he's trying to will it to be clear because every time I look outside he's standing there staring at the water for hours one end - I kid you not!! He says to me that the water is clear this morning... I told him then a miracle happened yesterday because it was pond sludge on Saturday, he did not seem to enjoy that. Well, I've told him if it's not clear by this weekend I'll get pool peeps out myself because we need the pool, it's hot dammit! Also, we're having a bit of a knees up next weekend for Himself's birthday, so enough said. I told Himself this morning that the ice machine needs looking at too and he should mention it to Southy, well... He went white and said "No way! Last summer it took him 4 months to fix, leave it - even though it only produces about 12 blocks every 3 hours at least it's something!" Doll, I can picture us having to buy ice and fill the machine, erm...

I just got a call from the dog parlour too - I booked my goldie Bella in for a hairdo this morning and thank gawd they phoned to check with me. Apparently Southy told them to "shear her like a sheep" (!) Can you imagine how embarrassed she would be, my poor girl! All that wonderful silky golden hair gone!

While writing this I hear some shouts and just general chaos outside, so I decide to go and investigate.... The pic above is what I encountered. Southy sent Jimmy down the summer house chimney to replace the light bulb that shines on the gas braai. Nevermind that it's perfectly accessible from below, all you have to do is reach up. I swear, if there is a way to make a job more difficult that man will find it! Jimmy is now stuck in the chimney and can't move. Judging by the sounds I can hear Southy and Shadrack are still battling to pull him out. I wash my hands....

Aaahhh Mondays, I just LOVE them!

Geexx

Beckham pulls a fast one, is hilarious!! A MUST SEE!

2010-10-29T10:15:00.000+02:00

Bloody tsotsi's!

2010-10-28T14:08:00.001+02:00

Philly darling...

I hardly slept last night and lay wide-eyed in the dark with my ears like radars until 5am and for once it wasn't Himself snoring like a Rhino on steroids keeping me awake. I was reading and at about 1am I heard really strange sounds - I would usually ignore but the big dogs were in the bedroom and started growling. Gawd, I hate how one's heart starts pumping like it's ready to bounce right out of your chest! Himself was asleep in front of the telly downstairs and had the gun with him. So, I switch all the lamps in the bedroom off and hang out of the window trying to see the source of the noise. I couldn't see a thing but heard 'tool sounds' very clearly! Well that was me! So I run on tippy toes, down the passage, down the stairs and into the lounge to call Himself. In retrospect hunney - it must have looked pretty fecking ridiculous - me in my nighty running on my tip toes as fast as I could, boobs bouncing around like mad, a cartoon if there ever was one! Clearly forgetting the fact that the only curtains in the house are upstairs so anyone could see me no matter how quiet I was. When I touched Himself on the shoulder (very gently in case he shot me by accident) he launched off the sofa like a rocket going 'what, what?' Well, whoever it was disappeared so I wasn't believed until this morning when we saw a window that had been tampered with. Just the other day we were sleeping on the sofa while the telly was tuned to the Crime Channel and I woke up to little Suki barking her head off and the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a black arm poking through the window trying to strangle my little muttley! I start screaming, Himself launches off the sofa and grabs the arm still half asleep, and ange, fight or flight mode? Nope, I was in frozen mode - screaming my head off for Shadrack who was meant to be on duty patrolling - while poor Himself is hanging onto this arm for dear life. Not one of my proudest moments.... erm.... Don't know why I didn't think of taking the gun and shooting the fucker. Anyway, after about 5 minutes of furious wrestling at the window the black arm was slick with sweat and slipped out of Himself's grip. Bloody bastard got away with my favourite Guess handbag *sob* and Sonnyboys whole salary! Jaysus, I'm sooooo sick and very fucking tired of the crime in Gauteng. It seems like affirmative shopping for Christmas has started early this year...

So dear heart, fingers and toes crossed that we're almost out of here and back at the coast where we belong.

Geexxx

Golddiggerz.com

2010-10-25T13:47:00.024+02:00

Philly Dahlink!!

Himself & I were chilling in the bar last night and this song came on the iPod. Himself goes all quiet for a while then he says, deadpan "this song could have been written for Gagda Cockalot". Ange I was on the floor! I'm always so proud of him when he channels his inner bitch *cackle* I must say, once I heard it again I totally agree with him.... That Eurotrash Gagda Flapzilla Cockalot... *ahem* One could always find her so easily at our parties, just look for her where the men with money were hanging out and she'd be there batting her eyelashes like she was trying to take off... oh, and whenever you heard a woman say "look what my husbands cash dragged in" there she'd be... bless.

Dollies, I am mortified that I was ever taken in by that swamp donkey! Even my son saw through her bullshit from day one. In retrospect there were so many signs... the packet of Drum tobacco and the rolling papers (I thought only bergies rolled their own cigarettes?), that dyed black hair with the white patch on the fringe (Charlie Weir called and wants his hairstyle back), the chicken soup that had to be on the stove for 3 days and then had a shitload of gherkins added to it - to hide the smell methinks (vrot by then and had us running for the loo, except her (!) - even the dogs wouldn't eat it), only washing her hair twice a month and only showering twice a week, ugh! those nasty stained (I kid you not doll!) g-strings she would leave lying around on my kitchen floor near the washing machine (bitch, I don't know how you were raised but in my house we do our own knickers), washing her smelly sneakers WITH the clothes in the machine, yuck, yuck, yuck! I used to take her everywhere with me and one day in Woollies I picked up the Cosmo with the annual sex section we always have such a good giggle at and she says "you vant know sex? Me teach you" WTF??? I say "thanks girlie but I think I've already forgotten things you have yet to learn" and I hear this chortle coming from a lady at the next till... hahahahaha. I'm sure she does have a few 'tricks' though, how else did my brother lose his marbles? ;o)

I think the final blow to our non-friendship was one night in the bar she said to me "I knew your bruzzer vas merried but I no care. I took long time to get him but I loff him zo much" Jayzuz Muriel!! His WIFE was a part of this family for 16 years and she has the blind cheek to say this to me - does nobody get the meaning of loyalty anymore!?

I'm so glad I don't have to spend time with her anymore ange, towards the end I could feel my brain cells committing suicide one by one in her company...

Love ya snoobles,

Geexx

Geeg'
"Gagda Cockalot Flapzilla SwampDonkey"
This was the moniker we gave her and it says it all perfectly. Having known your brother, I can only come to the conclusion that he had an extremely bad experience with a hallucinogenic 'bag 'o shrooms' when he got lost in London Town, took a wrong turn and ended up in that rather desperate bar full to the brim with illegal 'boob flashing fanny thrusting' euro trash *ahem* women. Unfortunately the one that all the penises kept falling into, tucked her va-jayjay in, sprayed it with some Doom, picked her eyelashes back off some dubious peenies, washed her hair and practiced her English by reading Hustler magazine, saw her chance and like a Heinous fly trap, poor brother got devoured in a sexual blitz and to be honest, brother was no saint to begin with so he, dear god , got eaten up in what could only have been his teenage wet dream. From that moment onwards you could see his brain cells dropping off him like a ticker screen... Gagda was like an anaconda, squeezed his jollies until his former head disappeared and her head pulled the strings. I just do not get it at all, she has not one inch of class. Have you seen her walking in stiletto's, its like someone is walking behind her jabbing her bum cheeks with a red hot poker. Perhaps that's just an ingrained euro trash saunter, you know, from the bottle store to the truck stop..!! Actually, now it makes sense.. Maybe that's what pimp daddy's do in Retardia...?

I can tell you know that old Mel Gibson is wishing he had of kept it in his pants, or at least have done a background check, for god sakes! That blow job will go down as one of the most expensive non starters in history, he should get together with Ronnie Woods and bash their heads together for the rest of their natural lives while the 1st wives watch it from screens put in every room of their well deserved mansions!

Do you remember on one occasion we all decided to have supper out and dine 'Al Fresco'? The waiter unfortunately decided to take Gagdas order first when she then said ' I vil haf zee Al Fresco pleez'.. we just looked at each other, struck completely speechless with hysterical laughter killing us, I could see our husbands not knowing where to look and have you seen 4 adults all make such rapid excuses to go to the bar/toilet in a babble of sound and then collapsing in fits of laughter on top of each other..

Remember that night Gee', at ours when we had that huge party, loads of bodies, loads of shooters, friends with money.. I came to grab you as I had found a spot, quite by accident where I could observe Gagda? Oh lordy, there she was, knees on the bar stool (bespoke Italian leather mind you) arms in the air jiggling and swinging those bra-less somewhat saggy boobs sideways, upways, all-over ways while tossing her hair like a donkey tail at the men behind the bar. The most extrodinary thing about it though was the men, they looked so uncomfortable, trying hard not to get slapped in the face by a wayward boob of their good mates girlfriend! However as Gagda turned and spotted us it was as if she had been caught with her hand in another womans jewellry box, the boob swinging stopped in mid-flight and she sat on that stool like a school marm, we were on the floor!!

We did briefly acquiesce in StepfordVille, with good intentions to try and give lunch a go. We are after all pretty laid back girls who love a drink or seven and good cheer.
Well, we did learn from that lunch that it has a sister who is currently dating a married man in Germany and this was somehow extremely funny; that you always order the most expensive food on a menu so that you can wrap some of it up to keep in your handbag for what we can only assume would be an emergency, mussels do not generally travel well; that she wants a multi-million dollar house for shoes as she now has some with proper leather and not goat-skin; that she would want very soon her own platinum credit card although she wouldn't want to lose something so expensive. I fucking rest my case! Needless to say that was the only lunch we paid for ever again....

I could go on, but must keep some material for the serial!

Power to you babe, PHILLY xxxxx
Speak manana chica!

If you are wondering dear readers why I put my 2 cents worth in on Gee's post, it is rather very simple.
GeeGee is my family, and I will stand beside her, behind her, in front of her or anywhere that I need to because that's what you do, it's love and it's loyalty and it's very very rare.

You just never know what you'll come across by accident...

2010-10-21T14:22:00.004+02:00

Philly dahlink!

Oh, sweets, I am On. The. Floor and I can't get up!!! Haahahaaha! One of my FB friends and his wife had a baby a few months ago, so the proud mommy loads a whole lot of pics - as new parents do. So... one of said pics is of proud daddy holding baby girl in the bath... aahhahaahahahaha... Ange!!! He's got baby on his lap and there is an unmistakable.. uhm... VERY weird looking foreskin floating away behind her...! hahahahahahahahah Oh lawdy! How am I going to scrub my brain? Should I tell them? I dunno - I don't want them to know I saw it..... I've seen a peeny or two in my life, but never one that looks so gross! Jeez, you'd think people check their albums before they post them!

I found this pic I posted while I was innocently looking for cartoons - man has the whole bloody farmyard! Hahahahaha

Off to have a shot of Goose, I need it....

Gee xxx

Lady Gaga - Alejandro

2010-10-20T11:58:00.002+02:00

Without a doubt one of the sexiest videos of the year... sjoe! Those bed scenes.... *ahem* I love the way she challenges boundaries!

Happy mid-week! :-D

Gee xx

Why does acting like a hooligan seem like a good idea at the time?

2010-10-18T14:07:00.008+02:00

My dearest Philly...

I've gone & bloody done it again....! Saturday night started off so calmly and I promised myself I would behave in a way that seems age appropriate. Before I knew it though the party was going strong and I was swinging from the bloody chandeliers feeling no pain. I remember slipping on the wet floor and falling really hard on my ass in front of everyone and I remember feeling something give way in my foot but I also remember I was back on the dancefloor in no time. If you wake up with your hair stuck to your cheeks and gold flecks all over it from the Lupini Gold Sambucca and an ankle the size of a tennis ball does that mean you had a good time? The bar looked like a bunch of frat boys had a really rough bachelor party in there the next morning.... poor Precious! I can just imagine her face when she walked in there to clean and the dialogue to herself: "Eish, these white people, they mess like the wild animals"

Needless to say I felt like death warmed over on Sunday, couldn't walk at all, I have a purple shin and matching blue bruises on each ass cheek.

I don't remember all we did on the night, I'll have to phone Hawtentawt to find out what scandals I caused but it seems my phone was a victim of the shennannigans too. My Blackberry is no more!! *sob*

Remember the night I slipped and knocked myself unconscious but was too plastered when I came around to go get stitches so I just wrapped my head in a towel, took 2 painkillers and hoped for the best? That morning I looked like a scene from 'Carrie' in the shower with all the blood rinsing out of my hair. Himself took one look and went "*^&^%$ go get in the F%$*ing car!" I was SO hungover I was GREEN and I had to lie there in a pathetic bundle while they put 12 staples in my head. I remember the looks passing back and forth between doc and nurses.... Well, I had to go to the SAME emergency room today and got the SAME doc and nurses, erm.... The doc just smiled a secretive little smile when I told him I fell on saturday night - it doesn't take much to deduce it was clearly another F.O.P. incident (Fell Over Pissed in case you forgot...lol) The nurse asked me if my coccyx feels okay, but I could just picture having to put my ass in the air for an x-ray so I told her I have a really well padded bum so I'm sure it's fine.

Well dahlink, it seems I have torn ligaments and broken a piece of bone right off! lol!! Not much they can do about that but I DID get some Tramaset (the Polish pills) and some Cataflam too, Doctors orders are to stay still, keep foot elevated and come back in a week if there is no improvement. Doll, it was SO embarrassing! I was meant to go for a pedi and a leg wax today and there I had to go out in public with feet like this! I managed to find an old razor so I could at least shave the injured leg, haahahaahahaha!!! I'm telling you ange, this shit has got to stop, but what am I going to do for fun then?

I will phone you as soon as phone is replaced but methinks Himself is getting a tad tired of replacing my phones so often, so it could be a while... :o(

Love you loads Dollies

Gee xxx

Scottish GoldDigger: How many men have now moved to Scotland if this is all that it takes? LOLS!!

2010-10-17T16:39:00.000+02:00

Life is a beautiful collection of 'Cocks & SnackTails'

2010-10-13T14:45:00.002+02:00

A Brief Reminder That Life Is Fabulous, Drama Is For The Farmer.....

2010-10-13T05:59:00.004+02:00

Just a little sumfen sumfen as a reminder that the good times roll and rock when the shackles of burdens are cut through with laughter, light and love and a staunch stance to keep the baying wolves from tearing your throat out. Time to close the open book, throw caution to the winds and skinny dip in the calming still waters of change. The smoke screen will clear and the culprits will be on display, gnarled and pathetic and on that path of laughter we shall go dancing, not looking back ever....

There is no time like the present to live in it, to love in it, to laugh in it, dwelling is not something fabulous, it's like pouring a glass of Moët only to find that you get half a glass because someone who clearly has no class or taste has gotten to it before you could protest! (this is why I hide my precious Moët, I don't mind sharing it if I know you can afford it, if you can't afford it, then don't do it on my dime) So let's just get on with it shall we, hand me that flute and lets follow that rather large golden ball to a lovely Island get-a-away.. trah lah la lah lala... Monsoon weather is magic but you don't have to be in the middle of it to know what's going on, I like to pull up a chair order a cocktail, have a conversation but every now and again I'll take a sneaky look at the wreckage...

Weekend is here, time to lace up and hit the... Goooooose...

2010-10-08T18:56:00.004+02:00

Hola Darhlink,

Friday sweets, my cocktail is waiting to be ordered, just about to flip some Fleetwood Mac into the car CD playa, am blogging this from my iPhone outside of the V&A while trying to also to put my heels on, love these Christian Dior 8 inchers, but hell, they are trickier putting on than taking off if you get my drift, the price of beauty once again reminding me that perhaps it is indeed better off to be ugly, why would you have to go to all of this trouble if people only said nice things about your shoes and not your face... Bang bang...

But all in black for tonight with the Blumarine handbag, ooh, she is something to behold Gee, absolutely stunning! I have on my long chain necklace with the Thomas Sabo strawberry that opens but doesn't close properly, you know the one. I always joke that I keep my coke stash in it and when someone goes 'Oohh' I say, well clearly I don't have any as it keeps falling out. Am I the only one who gets that joke?? God, the hardest things Iv ever come across is usually attached to a man or in a bottle labelled 'Chivas Regal' lols!!

I will know how good this gigantic effort turns out by Big Shots reaction, lol! If he immediately puts his arm around my waist and keeps it there while I say 'Hello' to his colleagues, then the outfit is a hit babe! If not, then he is going to have to explain himself to the couch and she's a hard bitch! So bring on the Taj, the kir royal, and of course my lovely Goose dressed up in delicious outfits with fruit dresses and cherry hats and the most wicked of all smiles... Ohh, some mischief making maybe.. Who can tell when the moon is full, it's not exactly up to us is it doll!

Right, am trying to attach a pic, hope it works... Enjoy my lovely friend and will 'loo call' (please do not let there be more see through unisex bathrooms, it's just beyond blue collar) you later. Right now 'Tusk' is about to drum....
Love xxx
ps
Lets hope I don't set my hair on fire again tonight, why on earth they put candles on bars is just absurd to me....??

GOING PINK!!! Hope Across The Nations..

2010-10-07T14:55:00.002+02:00

Sydney Opera House

We are linking our hands with those of our sisters across the globe, holding them closely to our own chests in solidarity, in hope, in love and with the greatest respect. Each beat of our hearts growing louder for those who have fought but lost, for those who are still and now fighting and for the survivors who are giving everything they can offer, back.

Here are a few illuminations of past landmarks across the world showing support for All The Sisters In The Battle, her supporters and the desperate need for a cure.

Niagra Falls, Canada

One glimmer, one ripple, one light, one candle, one song, one tear. It all makes a difference regardless of where you live and who you are, this battle is epic in every sense.

In this month of October, please reach out, not just for the women you walk by everyday but for Mothers, Sisters, Daughters, Wives, Friends..

Everything that women represent in your life, they represent to the world, in so many immeasurable ways, imagine the darkness without the laughter.

Cromwell, England

For Our Sisters,
Philly & GeeGee
xx xx xx

Sand Hotel, macao China

Drunk emailing... Oh c'mon, it's really NOT THAT BAD!!

2010-10-06T00:52:00.001+02:00

I think and drink therefore I am not allowed anywhere near a keyboard!!

Drunk emailing (drailing): while completely inebriated you foolishly believe

1) You're a prolific writer.

2) You're Poetic.

3) You're a comedian.

4) Not saving your sent messages will save you from complete and total embarrassment - this only leads you to wonder what the heck you actually did say after typing for two hours.

5) Spell check hides your obvious drunkenness. It does not!

Sending a drunk email at 2am after drinking a 40 ouncer of vodka!!

So I may have accidentally kind of, sort have, perhaps bumped the send button or some button while reaching for my voddies and ashing my ciggie simultaneously, elbows have those unfortunate knobby ends on them, or so I am choosing to believe right at this minute because there is someone looking at the ramblings of a very very drunk woman that they most likely remember naked at university circa 1990.. Oh fuck..!!

I blame FaceBook wholeheartedly and that Mark ZuckerFuckerWankerberg or whatever he may call himself! So an ex drops you a line, you catch up, all grown up with big lives all of our own but acknowledge those crazy student days (where you shagged each others brains out, as you do at varsity) and the free for all it was and those little teasers of complimentary memories..

But noooo... Philly has to write a drunken essay message thru one squinty eye which will no doubt result in me having to be hideously embarrassed and having to stick a band-aid over my message inbox least that little red flag pops up with an angry 1! on it demanding complete explanations and retributions before being unceremoniously de-friended!!

Lets just hope the person in question still has a great sense of humour and can smell the wafts of vodka for what they were worth, 48% proof! FB needs to offer a random numbered password that is constantly changing on their message accounts after 2am CAT for peole who may just believe they need it, and c'mon, who hasn't shrent a drink shmale before... CUFF ME!
Love to all offenders !! xox

A Good Monday Morning Giggle!

2010-10-04T03:55:00.000+02:00

Yes I have a drinking problem! I have a problem when I'm not drinking!

2010-09-28T14:27:00.003+02:00

Morning Gee!

Funny morning so far, well under this disheveled hair it is! I am making tentative plans to hook up with an old varsity friend for coffee soon. Yes, coffee, quite outrageous isn't it! Myself and "LionHeart" got back in touch thru FB of course and I was hugely impressed with his photo gallery. He had a huge tatt of a lion on his back, kicking it with a Harley D and Heineken, a bad ass microbiologist with some dosh doll! And I thought, yeah, this is a dude that Big Shot is gonna like too, fun times ahead and maybe he has some secret Hells Angel clubhouse we can go crash and pretend to be all rock star/roadkill!

Oh I had visions of wearing my Louboutin leather boots and my Gucci red leather sling handbag to his secret drinking bars and hanging out with the biker bitches, being able to have the coolest posse ever, wearing eyeliner under my eyes as well, and have the most perfect pair of sunnies omg!!! (who says a biker posse can't become a fashion ensemble with the proper guidance?) So when I got his email invite, I was ready to roll..... downhill and fast!!

Turns out Gee, that "LionHeart" has traded in his Harley D and Heineken for a BMW, a reserved chair in a draughty hall for weekly AA meetings with obligatory coffee! What?? Noooo.. Is he punking me? I don't know anyone who goes to AA and there's a reason for that, ahem.. and it's not just got to do with all the corduroy!! Why this happens to me Gee, if it's a sign it's a truly grotesque one! You know what my reply should be? "Know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run"....

I'm not against AA at all, I do it all the time, it's called a hangover! Gee, if there ever comes a time when the red shooz get dusty, you have my permission to belt me one, hard! I would do the same for you, let us pray.. Could you just imagine us sober 24/7 doll? We would be complete messes, unable to function or string two sentences together, unkept and serving up home cooked meals with aprons on, our men would be wearing starched clothing and getting no sex, weird or otherwise and would most likely be taking out life insurance policies on us unawares....

So "LionHeart" asked me over for coffee but I had to politely tell him that on Saturday I am going on a wine route to buy several crates of wine. I'm not sure if I could sit thru hours of reminiscing on coffee and good grace alone before he would notice my regular trips to the ladies and my increasingly unfocused attention! Of course I would not go unarmed, the hippy flask of 'Goose' would be stashed in my handbag as per regulations, no need for a mix this time around, straight up baby! Will give you an update as on Friday night we are all trekking over the mountain to Pretentious/I'm A WankerVille for a belated B/Day for Big Shot, bring on the Moët Darhlink...
Philly xx

PS

DARHLINK....
I think this cartoon sums it up perfectly for us! I was sitting here this morning exhibiting classic avoidance symptoms about going to gym when I came across this and I laughed like a hyena on bush doob!! Why waste any more precious time worrying about the small stuff when the big stuff is out there to be enjoyed, and let's face it, it's always better with some gorgeous designer 'Goose' sunnies on!

Right, now I'm going back to my 'vision' board for my daily affirmations which, dear heart are centered on you and yours getting your bums down here pronto!! Hasta luego mi chica!

PHILLY xxx

Putting Some Sequins On Our Monday TFC way!! ENJOY! Kylie Minogue - Get Outta My Way - Paul O' Grady Live (24th Sept)

2010-09-27T20:59:00.000+02:00

A glimpse into the Moet Chandon Champagne Cellars Which Philly subsidizes in all good faith..!!

2010-09-25T22:04:00.003+02:00

What A Riot.....

2010-09-25T18:36:00.004+02:00

Oh Darhl...

I was quite surprised this morning when my iphone ☏ started vibrating with gusto at 8am! I looked at it rather tentatively as my friends and family know that they just do not go there with me at such a completely unreasonable hour, it brings out those latent homicidal maniac genes where murder and mayhem are just hobbies darhlink☑ But then panic sets in rather quickly.. It must be an emergency!! Omg, what what what has happened? Has my Mum stiffed a taxi driver again? My wayward sister been sacked for telling her boss to go to 'fuck himself' again on FB? My brother woken up again with a fugly in some strange suburb he can't recognize but see's a wedding picture on the bedside table and goes into hyperventilation mode? So I stare at my mobile, there it goes again, all vibey like the bloody thing does have the sunshine radiating out of its radiation! Right.. so I grab it and sit on it (thank you Gee, I learnt that from you, it's kinda weird sista..) and if it has one more 'happy moment' I'll check it, if not, it's going on silent under the bed! (hahaha, I'm sure my bro' can relate to that one) Rah rah rah!!

Okay okay, I succumb and look at my screen to find 17 texts and 15 missed calls!! WTF? I quickly and nervously open up my texts to a barrage of 'Are you Okay's', 'Will come fetch you immediately' , 'Lock up your house' , 'Are you a refugee yet', 'Stay away from your windows'.... Are these people on crack? Is there an all night looney bin open that has an unlimited 'Happi Hour'? I can see the sign "Looney Bin Open To All, Bring A Friend, Drink Till You Drop, Accommodation Free" So I grab my coffee and head towards the balcony for a morning sesh of fresh sea air and time to decipher these apocalyptic texts and then notice a few busses taking people away, and more people walking rather quickly down the road and then the police cars come screeching past me with sirens blazing.. whoosh whoosh whoosh.. Huh? I start reading a text from Jules that says "Wood Bay Rioting, be cautious Philly etc" Ah.. so now it makes sense..! My housekeeper "Queen Bee" is making more coffee for me which is about to be delivered when I tell her what's happening down the road, did she know? Had she heard on the grapevine? Doll, I kid you not, the blood drained from that woman's face, she started shaking and her eyeballs were like saucers and you could literally see her getting ready to bolt lol! It was as if the tokoloshi has overslept and had come out during daylight hours!

From our balcony you could see the result of petrol bombs burning and hear the rubber bullets popping and I'm instantly curious, poor Queen Bee looks as if she's about to use me as a human shield, she would flatten me trying to get to the nearest exit and her feet are huge doll! I do my best to calm her down, soothe her worries and tell her that we would never throw her over the balcony unless absolutely necessary to which she nervously laughs and goes back to her day..
Hubcap joins me on the balcony and I tell him what's going on in a rather excited show-offey voice like I know something he doesn't know, nar nar nah-narh-nah! To which he replies 'So that's finally come to a head then'.. Bum!! So I proceed to tell him of our POA (Plan Of Action) if the rioters make it down this road.....
1.) A few tubs of ice cold beers. R2 a beer or R5 for 3
2.) Hot-Dog Stand. R3 with mustard R4 with mustard & onions
3.) Vuvuzelas WC surplus FREE. Everyone loves a bargain!!
On such short notice I think the above will be profitable, yet promote peace and goodwill and inspire the um.. er.. rioters that they too can become small entrepreneurs!

Hubcap takes my coffee and smells it suspiciously.. Oh come on!! I went through that stage years ago, who doesn't like a hint of Amarulla in their morning coffee, it's delicious and something that I brought back with me from Spain, along with 8000 kgs and an annoying habit of saying "Mas vino por favor" in restaurants to waiters who thought I was already too drunk to have more wine!
So the day calms down and 60 odd arrests are made, which I of course think could have been avoided with a street party, mingle people, talk..! We live in such a beautiful place, the beach is beautiful, the bay is quiet, it inspires peace and beauty, creativity... But I must remember that not all of us wake each day and feel like this and I can only assume that there is a shortage of Amarulla to which I must address...

Well Gee, I hope this is not to political for your dainty self and that your blinkers are still sequined in pink, we wouldn't want those awful hives to come out. Will be sending Amarulla by express post darhlink *clink* xx

Happy Braai Day!

2010-09-24T11:17:00.007+02:00

Philly dahlink...

I just wanted to say have a FAB long weekend, and Happy Braai Day! I added this video because it reminded me of that time in Barcelona when all the South Africans decided we could not go One. More. Day. without a braai. We all went on a recce to track down a portable braai - no easy feat in a place like Barca - and after hours of searching and getting just the right meat that we knew for sure wasn't horse or something worse we were finally ready. We didn't really think it through right? Having a braai on an enclosed balcony? I looked at the pics we took and the smoke was so thick you couldn't see the people! Everyone was so pissed no-one really cared that eventually all the guests escaped to the apartment staircase and carried on partying there... Why on earth were we all so surprised when the fire department showed up? And that the neighbours called the police about the noise? What a day.... And then it ended like most South African braai's - the men were so wasted they burnt all the bloody the meat! The whole apartment block smelled like smoke for weeks afterwards - at least we couldn't understand the mutterings of the neighbours and did our best to ignore the hairy eyeballs thrown our way.

Have a great weekend dollies!

xxx

Missus Z no. 5

2010-09-23T16:11:00.003+02:00

Philly dahlink...

Your whole post this morning about politics in our lovely country (which you know gives me hives) made me think about our Pres Z and his lovely wifeys... As you know, Missus no.5 has moved into the neighbourhood. Remember I wrote you about the lady who came to view the house with the bad weave? The letter was at http://twofatcowz.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-its-all-downhill-from-here.html

Well!!! Patience came to me and told me that the lady in question was Missus Z the 5th! I was on the floor doll, I kid you not. So much makes sense now: how nervous the estate agent was at the introductions, the slap hand that Missus presented to me like I was supposed to kiss it, the attitude of said Missus, the obligatory big black BMW Missus was driving and so on... Jeez my dear - I don't even recognise your husband, how in God's name am I supposed to recognise you?? Are you the Queen of Africa now? Sorry I missed that newsflash, it couldn't have been on E! Entertainment news then... Really darling, if I was the Presidents wife (even it it was only no. 5) I would make sure my weave didn't need an obvious re-do before I tried to put my 'snob shoes' on!!

So, in all innocence I can honestly say that I didn't know who it was and Philly, maybe that was a good thing too - you know how I feel about the (fill in the blanks) running this country and you know how I can get! The angels of ignorance were definately on my side that day....

Love ya!

GeeGee xxx

Michael McIntyre - The Gym (Changing Rooms)

2010-09-17T11:42:00.000+02:00

Time for our friday giggle - a bit longer than the usual clips, but well worth a watch. Michael McIntyre at his best!

Have a fabulous weekend all - and please don't behave!

The Cows xx

On The Tiles...

2010-09-15T23:47:00.003+02:00

Oh for Crying Out Loud.. who sang that, was that MeatLoaf?
Anyways Gee... It's now almost 11pm and I am almost feeling slightly better after a wasted day of feeling like what one of those police reservists must feel like after drawing the short straw to be that rag doll the Alsatian murder/sniffer dog gets to train on! I am still trying to piece together why I woke up with stunning Lenny Kravitz hair, missing some elementary bits of my Jammies and feeling a bit.. er.. damp!!
A few drinks down at the local turns into a tapas free for all, a rather eager barman who, after I mentioned casually mind you, that the vodka was missing some vodka, took this to mean that my cosmo's must from that point on only contain a drop of cranberry and a hint of lime.. and like I was going to ARGUE!!!! So erm.. 3 cosmo's darhlink.... and the troupe end up at ours and of course the Goose has her tutu on and who can resist that dance I ask you, WHO? The rest is a bit of a haze with 70's Bowie, Susie Q and Devil Gate Drive and yes I sang (I can see you cringing, stop it!)! I do rather awfully recall a coffee table moment with a Goose 'microphone' lung-ing out "I'm a blue eyed bitch and I wanna get rich, so get outta my waaay 'cause I'm here to staaaaayyyy..." plonk.. on my ass!!! It was bucketing down when we left the pub and was still raining when the dregs, oh oops..last people called it quits and left our train wreck abode..
This morning when I peeked outside I saw my glass and my pack of giggies on the balcony all soggy.. Now that explains why me and Big Shot were all damp and the Lenny hair (you know how Shirley Temple it gets when wet and unattended, oh god that sounds so ..ahem.. charming )... But why the hell were we outside in the storm..?? Storm chasing in a passive capacity? Star Gazing? I'm thinking that perhaps in my drunken logistical state that I was catching my bedtime water.. It's the only thing that makes sense! And that I had to have Big Shot there to make sure I didn't fall off the balcony head first into the hot tub and drown... Or I was misbehaving and BS shoved me out there, but he still has his eyes and no scratch marks... Oh fuck it hon, I had a class A jol!!
And Gee, thanks for the hours upon hours of moaning you listened to today, heart thumps xx

I Don't Like Mondays

2010-09-13T18:36:00.001+02:00

Dear Philly darling...

I don't have much to say as am feeling rather 'floaty' at the moment from all the codeine for pain in 'mummy penis' finger that I'm so glad is still attached. So I'll keep it short... so glad this day is over, I've always hated Mondays and I LOVE House. Yeeesssss, I know he's a character in a TV show, I'm not like one of those crazy people who would write to the rich family in Egoli asking them for money.... but I can relate to the Vicodin thing, or rather, I wish I could but nasty Doctor man won't give me any ;op

Ok, I'm off before I really start talking shit!

xxx

P.S. I don't have a silicon chip in my head like the song says, does a titanium plate count?

To Our Dearest Gee... Who Has Nicked A Hoof!

2010-09-13T12:05:00.000+02:00

Our Dearest Gee, whilst tenderly showing her future daughter- in-law how to prepare a sumptuous feast fit for many a pastures, using her new serrated edged knives, quite badly nicked the top of her finger almost completely off! The daughter to be, who is a naturally pale skinned girl almost disappeared, leaving Gee alone to summon her survival skills, waded through the blood to grab her sugary vodka breezer to down before almost passing out!
We are thinking of you Sweets (and thinking again of inviting her to any Dinner Parties) and wishing you a speedy recovery, am sending a case of Goose for 'Cocktails' doll, this is a huge free pass, please 'milk' it :)
But, we are leaving Gee Gee to fill you in, it is quite a story and belongs to all of us... xxx

Ms Flip Ant

2010-09-10T13:53:00.003+02:00

GeeGee,
Oh sweetie darhlink, no, don't get me wrong...
My thirties were highly anticipated, I loved stepping over that line, oh so easy, youth is still clinging to you vibrantly, your tits are still perky, your arse is still firm, your face is still unlined, men still stop and stare, even more so! Sex, ohh sex.. sex... that is just unbelievable! The confidence and knowledge you have in your own body, your a walking sex stick, it just falls off you.. You can look at men any way you want, any way without wanting to want them to buy you a drink or smile back or come over and talk to you like you do in your twenties. Men are puppies in your 30's... big old floppy St Bernards with hard ons...
Now as you, or I approach the four oh! It's come as a bit of a surprise recently, and you know Iv never been that sort of superficial person, but Iv alaways taken my looks or lack there of depending on which decade the morning after is coming at me from.. for granted, and not that I'm a knock out gorgeous model type, but I get by kinda.. But you do notice that the reactions you once had, you don't so much anymore unless it's by gross pervy flasher old toothless ex-fishermen types, oh the joy. It's stupid and dull and immature and I'm a motherless child, so I have not been guided into this new territory as yet so... ...

Those new lines on your forehead that are not from blurry hungover unfocused eyes, or the slight creases around your eyes that are not from passing out on the shag carpet on the lounge room floor, or the sudden abundance of fucking white hair on your head that are not from sleeping alone with your Dalmatian dog because his bed was closer than yours after a fifth of stroh rum, or a new dubious looking hair sprouting out of your chin.. do I deserve that out of the blue ?
I suppose I have been taking a new and longer look in the mirror of late (oh no here she goes...). Thinking more of longevity, health and how to cut my hangover recovery time in half.. and of new Goose recipes.. That crazy girl is in me still, and by god, she's responsible for most of this I'm totally bloody (MARY) 100% sure.. I do know this is mostly BULLSHIT and not at all ME but where the HELL it's coming from, I'm not entirely sure, but I will find someone to blame in France the next time I'm in the bottle store! Is it early dementia? Snorting vodka with an insane Swedish girl when I was 23? Bungee jumping naked on acid? Getting arrested for house sitting the wrong house but being a bit too stoned to notice? Histrionics.. I will get over it, patience Dear Gee.. we all stumble.. But I can tell you I will not be stumbling over a botox needle or a pair of skinny jeans any time soon, so you can relax and lower the 12 gauge!

Funny Drunks

2010-09-10T13:31:00.002+02:00

Have a great weekend everybody! Just please don't end up like any of these eejits! *-)

The Cows xxx

2010-09-10T11:07:00.002+02:00

Philly Darling....

Jaysus Muriel, do I have to come up there and stage an intervention? I really had NO idea you were so completely freaked out at the four oh thing.... Sorry dollies....

You're not alone though - my Gaybe Hawtentawt told me that when he turned 30 he stayed in bed all day and cried! I kid you not! Hahahahaha He was most unimpressed when I laughed at him.. erm... I had 3 parties when I turned 30, I was THAT happy to have put my 20's behind me. The thing is ange, the way I see it is that the older you get the more you can get away with, and I intend to use that benefit to the max! The other day Luke says to me "mom, you'd better be nice to me, remember I'm going to be choosing your nursing home" to which I replied "well, you'd better make sure I like it because until I'm happy you'll be getting calls to come and fetch your mother for disrupting the whole place, I'll be the first old lady to be expelled from a nursing home, and believe me - I've had puuhlenty practice at getting expelled". Well, what could he say to that? He just smiled and shook his head. Bless!

So dolls - my conclusion is this: Clearly I have better prescription drugs than you! Nahnahnah! *cackle*

Have a great weekend snoobles, and please, please, try your best to misbehave at least a tiny bit! It's great for the soul....

Love ya xxx

Response to GeeGee Who has had fall down stairs and knocked her head off...

2010-09-09T12:42:00.002+02:00

Hello Darhlink,
I tried to reach you by mobile my sweet ray of light to tell you in private that you must be off your lovely bouncy head to think that for one moment, just one tiny particle of brain power, that I would EVER consider, EVER dressing up like that (I feel sick) in front of ANYBODY, let alone MYSELF and then to perform some grotesque' lip syncing diabolical dance routine for our lovely hubby's in the hope that it would inspire yours to pull out an old old old drunk bar show called "Patricia The Stripper"... Oh my... WHAT??? Oh, I love you Gee, but sometimes, and very rarely, we are worlds and drugs apart... Fuck me, you want me to look like a tied up sausage when I'm about to enter a very new and uncharted stage of my life, and have that image in my hubby's head? Sex... doll, I want me some more of that, not less.. I was thinking sheer negligee not a corsette that is going to squeeze my tummy fat rolls down to my knees..

And Ahem.. The Four Oh..? You did not!! Let's just get that one out there too! I have yet to own that one doll, I am way to immature to even be proud of that milestone yet.. And before all the protesting begins, of course it's something to be completely proud of! I am so happy to be alive after some of the scrapes Iv been in.. But give me a god damned minute please, Iv only just realised that it's fast approaching , takes a bit of getting used to and Goose needs some time too please, we need to get our thoughts together, plan our next misadventures.. now that's something I always look forward too, and always with you Gee!! So if I don't embrace the birthday, I'm embracing the partay, but not in any sort of fat 'n proud (hopefully, not so fat then!) get up..I love the fact that we are uncontrollable dance floor bitches (And if anybody hides any fucking sex toys all over our bedroom...) I'll be embracing the dawn the next day, the stream of Bloody Mary's and the hilarious stories that we don't remember...

Moulin Huge - Lady Marmalade

2010-09-08T15:55:00.002+02:00

Philly Darling!

I loved this! How fabulous are they? And the best part: looking at them makes me feel thin... We really need to find out where they get their outfits and freak the guys out a bit - give them a performance when Himself & I come down for your 40th, what do you think? Maybe Himself will be inspired to do 'Patricia the Stripper' for us then! ;o)

Hope you're feeling better sweetie dahlink!

GeeGee xxx

Look at what happens when we chat....

2010-09-07T13:28:00.003+02:00

Ag no Philly man!!!

I put eggs on to boil for lunch and completely forgot about them because we were having such a good natter on the phone, I mean really - have you ever? I bet we can play table tennis with these babies now...erm....

A Big Fat Cows shout out to the best cartoonist EVER!

2010-09-07T12:28:00.001+02:00

http://www.stik.biz/

Does it say BANK on my forehead?

2010-09-07T09:36:00.006+02:00

Morning snoobles....

Before I even get started, let me warn you that I'm in the mood for a good old moan this morning and I strongly suspect it's because I only had 3 hours sleep last night and not because of a moon phase (I checked). I've been saying for years that thinking is overrated and last night it proved to be true. I went to bed early knowing we had to be up at the crack of dawn - and I dislike crack of any kind as much as I dislike bush! Then I started thinking. I know. Stupid of me.

So this is what I was thinking about: You remember Tony Polony's ex-girlfriend Tina Tik? That chick who stayed with us after their relationship went tits up and she had nowhere to go? We eventually threw her out because I found out she was taking copious amounts of drugs in my house (and not the prescription variety). Gawd, I can be stoooopid sometimes! That the smells and the bizarre behaviour didn't give her away? And I'm not talking doob....

Anyhoo, so we all know I have serious memory loss after brain op and usually it doesn't bother me but listen to this! About 3 weeks ago I get a friends request on Facebook from Tina Tik and part of my brain vaguely wonders why I haven't seen her in 5 years but then moves swiftly on. She writes me a 20 page essay on how wonderful her life is, engaged, child, own business. She goes on about how she's cleaned up and is a born again Christian (that alone should have had me running for the hills and been a major warning sign!) and God this and Jesus that. Then she mentions that she feels really bad about the 5 grand we lent her (nope, doesn't ring a bell - can only think we gave it to her to get rid of her and still be relatively guilt free conscience-wise when we kicked her out) and she wants to pay us back, and thanks so much for accepting her friends request. And ange, I'm the first one to tell you the sun does NOT shine out of my ass, but she was going on and on and on about how wonderful, special blah blah blah I am and I thought 'hmmmmm, I wonder what she wants' but then I thought 'sis GeeGee, don't be so cynical'. THEN!! Last week she writes me how crap her life is and she needs to get away and 'please Jesus, help me, I need a car'. WTF??? Are you kidding me??? So you show up in my life after 5 years, think you can butter me up with a few emails saying how wonderful I am and then you honestly think I'll just buy you a fucking car!? Are you insane? Ok, I didn't write that back, I was nice and restrained (you would have been proud of me), I just said I didn't have a car either - which is true at the moment. But doll - yesterday I go online and I see she's removed me from her friends list! Ha! I'm on the floor!! I've also found out that she's emailing a guy who works for Himself who she was gaga over back then telling him how sorry she is they never shagged! Miss Engaged Born Again Christian herself.... ooohhhh, the absolute hypocrisy!!

Then all that made me think about my brother and that Eastern European Gold Digging Slag Gagda Cockalot he left his childhood sweetheart wife for. For 2 years Himself has been supporting them like it's expected and now that he's cut them off we're the shits in the story. I honestly never thought my brother would be this person. Jeez, that's when my blood pressure really went through the roof. All the times that little street heifer Eurotrash tried her best to get her claws into Himself and your Hot Shot (bless them for being oblivious) after she realised the Platinum Card she stole from another woman was actually nothing more than a Debit Card. She thought we were pretty dumb too... I remember one night in the bar with her when she asked me 'If Himself left you for anuzzer voman, who vutt get ze money?' hahahaha! Bitch please! We can see you coming a mile away! I feel sorry for any original thought that girl could ever have - it would die of loneliness. Ag, 200 more stories where that one came from! lolz! I was soo nice and I'm so sorry now that I was but I take great comfort in the fact that the last time I saw her was when I told her to leave my house and it was wonderful to see trash take itself out for a change! And anyway, Karma really is a bigger bitch than I could ever be - they're living hand to mouth now (not that I take in pleasure in that but I'll be damned if my husband is going to support two grown ass people for ONE more day) and my brother's ex-wife has fallen in love with a very nice, very rich guy who treats her like gold and they travel the world. Oh, the irony....

Then all that made me think of all the people over the years who have only befriended us to get something out of us... fuckers! Himself better start pissing all over that money tree in the back yard to make it grow faster because 'friends' are rather thin on the ground! ;op Thank God for you and Hot Shot dollies - at least between us we know it's real!

So tonight I'm going to think about designing my farm on Farmville to put me in dreamland and if that doesn't work I'm shamelessly giving myself over to booze....

Miss you xxx

Don't offer a Hand..!!

2010-09-06T10:04:00.004+02:00

Gee Gee,

Good morning dollydoll..
It's Monday! I propose that we start aptly naming the days of the week to start with the letter of that day. So today for me is" Monkey Slap Monday", it was going to be Masturbating Monday, it was rather awkwardly the first name that pinged into my lackluster brain this morning, but how could I call it that without our readers thinking that I'm a big fat masturbator, which I'm NOT!! But don't get me wrong, although there is absolutely nothing wrong with a good old fiddle if you are so inclined, and lets face it, MEN are, constantly! I am not against it, just don't expect me to be all 'touchy feely' about it, okay..!!
I have never really understood why some men are homophobic Geeg', because when they are "whacking the weasel", they are being a bit gay with themselves are they not? I think we should explore the topic of "Peenie Gay Hand" further and really delve into the male psyche, undress it and lay it bare for them to completely freak out about! You know, when you are introduced to a man and they extend their hand to shake yours, we should recoil in panic stricken terror and say "Nooo, not with the Gay Hand" or "Put the Gay Hand down, nice and slow" or "Stay where you are or I'll shoot".. Could you just imagine Geeg' , we so have to do that, drunk! We should get t-shirts made that say "Proud to have A Gay Hand Husband", take our men out for lunch at the waterfront, take our jackets off and proudly display our support! Yet again, our lot doll, would they even notice?
Have a fabulous Monday Gee Gee!! I miss you! xoxoxoxox

First look: Michael McIntyre 'Sex on Fire' - Live at the Apollo - BBC One

2010-09-03T12:09:00.002+02:00

Have a great weekend everyone! Just a fun little clip to get you started ;) We DO love the Kings of Leon though.... xx

Hey, Soul Sister

2010-09-02T17:09:00.003+02:00

My dearest Philly,

The first time I met you in that terribly posh Japanese restaurant in Barcelona 12 years ago has been forever imprinted on my brain. I felt like a fish out of water gulping for air amongst all those terribly shallow people Himself was working with and was seriously contemplating booking a flight back to South Africa and all the 'I told you so's that would inevitably have been waiting for me. And then I met you. Without you I would have lost my mind completely by now. I know we've lost our minds together sometimes, but always in a good way darling, although I don't know if our husbands would agree on that one! You have been so much more than a friend to me, you're my true soul sister, my sister in every way but blood and I love you forever and a day too.... xxx

Into Temptation...

2010-09-02T14:58:00.003+02:00

Gee,

Darhlink, he's back. I have had a big old pervey crush on this handsome, smart, be-speckled man for a while now, years and years and years. I love it because I only get to see him on certain occasions with certain people and I can unabashedly stare my eyes out, accidentally brush past him, not on purpose lean across him for the wine, laugh and converse with him, flick my hair about, touch him.. oh, he's all mine and he knows it, he likes this dance just as much as I do, the danger in the temptation is what feeds the space between us. One of my favourite things to do on these gatherings is to have a moment, within his line of sight, where my champagne flute rests seductively on my bottom lip as I gaze off into the distance, lost in thought. I know he watches me , its like he can't take his eyes off me until Iv caught him, it's a game we always play, like how we always manage to sit together at a table full of closed eyes. But now I'm older, now things are different, now I can change the dynamics. Can I run into the middle of the searing heat of temptation until I can't breathe.. because that's what it would be like with him, I would be surrounded. Just one of our exchanges when I don't lower my eyes, that would be it. It would be hotel rooms in the middle of the day, passion furiously running through my veins until everything about me became nothing. Could I stand alone and watch him belong to someone else, because he does. I do. In a few months I will see him again, stardust Gee xx

Gee to the Gee e e e... thump thump thump thump thump thump thump

2010-08-30T18:12:00.000+02:00

DEAREST GEE GEE,
THIS IS JUST FOR YOU! I COULDN'T LOVE YOU (ALL) MORE THAN I HAVE FOR THE LONGEST TIME ALREADY.
WHEN I'M STARING DOWN AT THE DUST OF DEPARTING FRIENDSHIPS AND DERAILED FAMILY, I FEEL THAT NUDGE BESIDE ME AND IT'S ALWAYS YOU, HOLDING THAT BOTTLE OF BOLLIES DARLING AND LEADING ME BACK TO SAFER GROUND.. FOREVER & A DAY BABES xxxxx

"HEART THUMPS MY WAY.."

Gym with the lovely Ms Geri Atrics

2010-08-30T09:42:00.009+02:00

Yes, I was at gym today, slowly getting the hang of it Geeg', but I do need a huge amount of "la lah lah ahhh" and must remember not to mention gym anymore to any one EVER. My family expect me to start losing weight and cannot understand why I'm not, here's a huge clue, I fake gym in the gym, not on purpose, I'm just following the instructions. The treadmill has a big red sticker on it that says 'Press here to start', so I do, then another sticker that says 'Press arrow once for level up ', so that's exactly what I do, press arrow once (oh okay, I do adjust it when the occasion warrants it to 1 and a half, depending on hangover) and I'm off on a lovely leisurely walk, it's a tad boring to be honest but unbeknown to me, I was shortly in for a freak show which left me with some confusing raw animalistic impulses Gee, but we'll get to that. I'm on my usual mezzanine level, where I can reign supreme when a group of older men, mid-late 50's , suited and booted were having a chat around the swimming pool. I am trying my hardest to place them in one of my stories, but it's not Christmas nor is there a Golden Pond near by, moving along..

So there I was, innocently trying to do my half hour on the treadmill when a few treads down my old buddy (shall be referred to Daddy Long Legs from now on) was at it again. I'm not sure he gets the programming right at all because his tread was going hell for leather and he was holding on to the sides for dear life while his little legs were trying to keep up, he actually lifted his legs up a few times for a breather and he looked completely shell shocked doll!. I wonder if there is a sinister plot being played out? Are there step children hiding behind water fountains clutching black market treadmill remote controls? Perhaps Daddy Long Legs is a Billionaire and he's constantly trying to prepare for and outrun attempts on his life, to having to stave off fluffy goose down pillow attacks in the middle of the night?
Anyways, I know it is absolutely hideous of me to have a giggle, but it was totally involuntary! I was silently thanking the gym god that we were basically alone Gee because Daddy Long Legs was breathing a bit like the Williams sisters sharing an oxygen tank after a night out with Tiger Woods!

DIVERSION!! Movement by the pool..! Oh oops, flashbacks to fat old french men on Mauritian beaches! I scrunch my eyes up and then look again, MEN IN SPEEDOS!! Yes, that is right Gee, SPEEDOS!! I can only see the back of them and I'm thinking this gym thing is just like Dr Who's tardis!! But what I'm about to tell you is going to be extremely shocking and unbelievable, you had better sit down doll! Those speedos were wearing the middle aged men I'd seen not to long ago standing by the pool in suits! Not only was the junk in the front but my lord those men were built like Greek gods!! I have no idea why but I want to start singing Madonna's song "Holiday" at the top of my lungs!! Absolutely beautiful, so streamlined, toned and ange', for gods sake get a drink, they had abs!! Yes, 6 packs, ping ping ping.. those were not coins doll, those were my eyes! I blinked in rapid succession just incase my daydreaming had got the better of me again! I looked for confirmation but no one was around, not even Noahhh!!
I can't take my eyes off them really, I'm mesmerized and intrigued and wondering what they must be like in the sack, not all at once, oh what the hell, why not ;) I quickly adjust my tread to a higher level (2, I hope I can handle the pace) this is gym, not some sordid sex parlor girl, get it together! Then one turns with his back towards me and he has this huge Eagle tattoo that is just kick ass and you can just tell, he's the bad boy and I have a terrible overpowering urge to run down there and smack his bum, hard, a few times! OMG!!

I'm looking to my left and right, please somebody see what I'm seeing! Geeg, I so badly needed you, you would have dragged me outside and pointed rather dramatically to the bowling green tournament and taken me to an old age home to clean bed pans! I can just tell you that it is a saving grace to be fat at this moment because I would have been a Bond girl in 3 minutes flat or frolicking in that pool like a dirty Darryl Hannah in Splash! But Gee, have I told you that I was not averse to the older man? I adored them when I was younger, problem was that they were always averse to me! I think I may have worked out why.. Jail probably ✔

I betcha George woulda had a crack at it, hahaha! (inside joke) Roll on Wednesday but just my luck it will be swimwear model half-price day which will have me crashing into a Haagen-Dazs fridge at full speed...I love those self-help books, especially this over used mantra "Turn something negative into something positive" which I use constantly!!... Ciao GeeGee, mi bella corazon..

Scare Tactics Gay Man gets the Horrors

2010-08-28T00:12:00.000+02:00

You want to buy me a WHAT???

2010-08-26T10:30:00.003+02:00

Philly!!

Hunney, you know I've had a very uhm... dubiously weird relationship with cars my whole life, and not the kind where I love them more than what's normal. Yes, I know I clearly need an automatic so my hands are free to do more important things than change gears, but other than that I really don't care what I drive as long as it doesn't scream suburbia and is not a baby shit colour. I never cared what stood on the back of my cars and only started memorising it when my cousin called me and said he heard via the family grapevine that Himself had bought me a Merc and 'what was it?' When I said it was a silver one and the roof came down but that's all I know he went mad, I'm sure it's because he's a man and to them it's all about the numbers and stuff on the back. He said I'm a disgusting waste of a good car and to tell Himself he should buy me a tractor with a sun umbrella! Ok, so then I learnt it : SLK55 AMG... woohooo, still remember ;o) I came to love my little silver bullet, I really did. Aaahh Philly, the times you & I had in that car with our 'Jackie O' sunnies and headscarves - zooming around with the top down and the music blasting. You spiking our Red Bull with Goose and lighting my ciggies.... those were the days.

Then Himself pulls a fast one on me... I just got out of hospital and was a drooling mess with my eyes looking in different directions unable to focus on anything and he gets home and says -

"Congratulations on your new car babe", and I go -

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I traded your car in and got you a C63 AMG"

"What's that?"

"It's a Mercedes, come see"

So off we toodle to the garage and everyone's standing around like it's a monumental occasion and there's this HUGE motherfucking monster parked where my silver baby was just a day ago!? WTF??!!

Needless to say I refused to drive her - I mean I wasn't allowed to drive for 8 months so I think it's pretty reasonable to have expected a driver and a mini-bar to be part of the package, but between me & you I think Himself bought that car to scratch his own itch...

When I was finally allowed to drive again he seemed to be having so much fun with the 'Black Bitch' as I named her that I decided to take his car - it worked out just fine until he heard that I'd named his beloved Porsche 'Delores'. I think it's suits her, the Cayenne's have such fat bums! Anyway, we came to a 'mexican stand-off' and I still refused to drive the black car, so he sold her and took the 'Posh' back!

That's fine, I told him, but if I lose 15 kg's I want a Harley, deal? Ok, he says but in hindsight I think he only agreed because he didn't think I would manage it. I tell him 2 weeks ago I only have 5kg's left to go and he says he was joking... arrggghhhhh!! That's ok though, I'll let him think it's fine, but a dripping tap has nothing on me, nothing!! I will wear that man down, bit by bit, until I get my way.

But doll, clearly I still need a car and what I really really want is a car I can hose down inside and out for when we're living at the coast again. One that's battered and full of character that I can load my muttley's into without a care in the world... I want a really old short wheel base Landrover. I told Himself as much and he was nodding away like a bobble-head, looking for all the world like he was all ears.

Last night we're sitting in the bar and he says -

"Babe, I've been looking at cars and I've come across a really nice 4X4 that's perfect for what you want out of it"

"Oh cool babe, did you find me an old Landie?"

"No, but this is a brand new car, it's the new TATA 4x4"

"You want to buy me a WHAT?"

.... and that's when the fight started....

I'll keep you posted on who wins this one my dear Philly.

Love ya!

GeeGee xxx

Bollies On The Dance Floor

2010-08-24T00:06:00.000+02:00

Geeg,

Ohh Ahh Mrs.... Last night I had a momentary 8 hour lapse of maturity. I shamelessly threw my age away and before I knew what was wrong with me it was too late to rectify the situation and I didn't really care to either, those blinkers, like my nickers are now huge :). My reputation was sitting in a dark corner laughing her head off, pointing her finger at herself dancing like a replica, albeit a heavier slightly lined one, of her younger, prettier single self 20 years ago. Oh who the fuck was I kidding doll, there was a certain evil kind of magic in my 3rd bottle of Moét and I was running headfirst into it, willingly! Fortunately we were VIP guests (in this club full of children), mixing with the "Artists Only" and I lied like a shrew :) I was a writer getting all kinds of acclaim from other famous ones and I just could not stop.. I had an enthralled audience of early twenty somethings who were raptured with my fearless name dropping.. Did you know that I single handedly polished up Guy Ritchies "Lock Stock & Two Smoking Barrels.." that I helped Dominic Dune research his articles for Vanity Fair and got the fast track on all Hollywood gossip and yes indeed Paris Hilton was born a hermaphrodite (thanks for that Geeg, never forgotten that one). I had a passionate 4 hour affair with Johnny Depp in a Parisienne restaurant called Flottes and that he told me that he loved me (of course that was clearly gratuitous) and that Leo likes his woman 'hairy' in certain places!! I did I did I did :) I knew I could get away with it, some pupils were clearly very very dilated.. and you know how a good chat goes down then!! I was a bit disappointed that I wasn't challenged over my fantasy life but I thought about that today and can only surmise that perhaps they thought I had a touch of dementia, being so old and everything..
But the price is being paid, oh how it is being paid today...I do not belong in clubs that do not have crystal glasses and humidors and waiters in crisp lovely back & white attire that are as discreet as a married man and his secretary! When I met up with my lovely old Uni friend, I almost longed for that cyanide pill when introduced to her friends, yes, our worst nightmare.. "The Lollipops" I thought my night was going to be spent slowly drowning in talk of facials, manicures and money . They sized me up in two-seconds flat, I felt like I'd been stalked with the intensity of a serial killer!! But the watch, sunnies and rings did all the talking doll and I found myself being bathed in lollipop love... Oh my how this town is pretentious, I'd forgotten in my reclusiveness just how steeped in it, it is. The women.. ! They watch the door like Albatrosses, who's walking in, who is with who, who is wearing what, who is cheating on who.. I was imagining a chainsaw in the middle of the table, spinning around decapitating heads that just kept on talking.. I could have skewered a few of them on toothpicks as an entrée doll but the Botox after taste would have probably killed me! I'm pretty sure they keep syringes of it in their handbags and every time they have a wee break, they have a Botox refresher because as the night was progressing, they looked as if they were getting younger and glossier, like little show ponies! Moèt does cure all and after knocking back a few glasses rapido, I just went with the moment and that is how I ended up in a club with some 'fans', I had to entertain myself doll, had to! I remember walking through the main bar , getting such bewildering looks from the kids and you know what had to be done, you know what is coming right, yes I did! There was a group of lovely shiny young things standing at the bar, their eyes getting larger at my approach and I said "This is my place Kiddo's, ID please, now, all of you!" Doll, they scrambled in pockets and purses, muttering but pulling out their books and I was "Shit" I'm in no state to do maths now, maths.. Oops..get out iphone quickly and walk away! So I did, can you picture the looks of relief! Jeez, I dodged one there :) All in all I had a good time even though I had to improvise at times. I am paying the price today, my tongue sticking to my lips, the dribbling, the confused mess my brain is in (as you can tell just by reading this, maybe this was not such a good idea..) although my hair still looks relatively great, but my one eye keeps wandering off on its own... So my ange'..
Beluga is good, but not what you have pictured, but we shall go there when you are here, eat some lollipops! xx
ps
Just remembered that there was a photographer there, she took a few pics.. Oh hell, I do not wish to see my image splashed across some internet add for 'Mature Meeting places for the Insane, half price for a glass of 'What the fuck are you doing Here' .....

HELLKOM

2010-08-19T09:04:00.001+02:00

CoooWeeee Duck!
Hola Capabro! Sweetie darling, I am missing you terribly! You are like one of my limbs, an internal organ, eyelashes, everything I cannot possibly live without, so much so that Hot Shot has momentarily taken your place and Im actually talking to him for longer than 2 minutes at a time. I think he is in complete and utter shock and I can see him literally looking for cover as soon as I go any where near him! I'm pretty sure it would be a different story if I were to talk about tits, Asian girls and Top Gear ;) As if I don't know what the sick bastards (oops, there! I said it) porno preferances are, please :) all those bullets are going into the semi-automatic for stockpiling purposes ;) Erm... Where was I, hahaha! Yes, You Dearest Gee! Darhlink get well soon so I can hear your laughter resonating through my mobile, and I will have joy back in my life, we will bury bodies together real soon cowgirl, Hee Haw! Loads of love xxxx
Phills

Graham Norton - Raunchy Phone Call

2010-08-16T12:39:00.004+02:00

Philly daaarling!

Hunney, you know how much I absolutely despise Mondays which doesn't really make sense seeing as I don't have a boring job and a boss I hate to get to anymore - I know, I know, I'm a spoiled bitch, but so are you ;o) Maybe it's a mental kick-back to those hated school days when Monday morning blues would start on Sunday night already or maybe it's because all my 'partners in crime' have to work so they can't have fun with me.... another reason I need to get back in the same city with you my beloved Philly!

Anyway, I was trawling through youtube and came across this clip on Graham Norton - a bit raunchy for a Monday morning, but fuck it! Russell Brand taking the piss out of a phone sex worker.... I couldn't resist! I need to start the week off with a bit of a laugh.... You know how much the two of us love a good prank call (especially when pissed) but really ange, next time we must remember to hide the number! Getting a call from the cops on a massive hangover is NO fun!

I don't know what's gotten into me the last few days, but I really feel like getting up to no good and Himself says I've been very cheeky lately ... lol! So what you gonna do about it mister? Spank me? Phone my mother? Hide my credit card? Oh no wait, you've done that last one already...

Have a lovely week babycakes - and fingers crossed someone buys this heap of a house!

xxx

Graham Norton - Public Restroom Prank

2010-08-16T12:34:00.001+02:00

Love the ladies from Cagney & Lacey!

Where's the FUN gone?

2010-08-16T11:51:00.004+02:00

Dear Philly,

This dreaded 'super bug' has me in it's claws and has dug in like an Eastern European chic on an old man with a fat wallet and the bitch ain't letting go... Needless to say I look luuvvveerrllyy - like a make-up artist on crack has done me with raccoon eyes, red eyeliner and bright pink blusher all over my nose and mouth area. Sexy... I don't know why they call someone that's sick a 'patient' - there's nothing 'patient' about the whole process, not for me anyway! I haven't had a good stiff drinkie in ages (not a good stiff anything come to think of it - too sick!) and that just won't do... life is too short to be so deprived of fun.

Anyway dahlink, have a great weekend and spare a thought for poor Himself who has Morticia Addams as company this weekend....erm...

Have posted a clip of Loni Love performing for a bit of a giggle ;o)

Love ya!

GeeGee

P.S. I hope 'Hellkom' gets their act together so you can be back in full swing dolls, missing you here....

Absolutely Fabulous - Drunken Antics

2010-08-13T17:52:00.008+02:00

Sweetie Daaaarling!

Watching this clip brought back so many mad memories of our antics through the years....

The night we went through several cocktails and 9 bottles of Bollies at Monkey Valley Resort and the security went door to door to find out which chalet we 'belong' to. Remember how unimpressed our husbands were? So we each took a bottle of Champers for refreshment on our walk back to the chalet and had a little rest stop or two along the way, what's the big deal?

The time in Barcelona we wanted dimmed lights because the lounge was clearly too bright to listen to Van Morrison and we hung your bra over the light and it caught fire. Who knew the smoke detector was that sensitive? Oooh Missus, I thought Hot Shot was going to nip our friendship in the bud then and there....

The night we went out and had gone miles before we realised the headlights were off and it took us 20 minutes with a lighter to figure out where to switch them on.... No wonder our husbands decided we need a driver!

The morning we were bored and got blotto for breakfast and decided it's a good idea to go and have our hair bleached - we didn't really think that one through did we?

The wee hours after that company function at my house we found that cheap red lipstick someone had left behind and drew clown faces on each other, not knowing how it stained - we couldn't leave the house for 3 days!

The time we were visiting you and the two of us got plastered in the jacuzzi, completely losing track of time and conveniently forgetting Himself and I had a 8am flight back home. You and I polished a bottle and a half of Jose Cuervo tequila and watched the sun rise. I will never forget how pissed off he was at me although I still don't see what the big deal was... I made the flight didn't I? So what if the national cricket team was on the same flight and I was a very unflattering shade of green - it matched their outfits! So what that people sniggered as they walked past me when boarding the flight? Is it my fault Business Class is up front?

Aaaah dearest Philly, so many more stories to tell but right now I have to get my ass in gear - my boys are going out for a dad & son day and I'm teaching my future daughter-in-law to cook today, wish me luck!! You know how much that son of mine loves a good meal, so it's my duty as his mom to make sure he doesn't live off take out one day ;o)

Have a fab weekend further darling!

Love ya

Gee Gee xx

P.S. I've told Himself I want a fridge exactly like they do for our bubbly when I'm back in your neck of the woods!

Bollies Darling, Bollies..

2010-08-12T15:50:00.001+02:00

Cows Bail $$$

Gee Gee darling darling,
Love that, our alter ego's in a nutshell!! Reminds me of a certain time darhlink, when we drove across 'the wrong side of the tracks' looking smokin' hot in your white Merc convertible to remind 'Betty BlowJob' of where she really belongs on the 'Totem Pole'.. I will never forget the look on her face as we drove up on to her lawn, music playing, sunnies on, long blonde hair blowing in the wind, sunlight catching our diamonds as her kids ran around us like we were shiny new toys, totally mesmerized while she was busy trying to suck in the muffin top and pull her 'badly in need of a dye job' hair back into some sort of order! She certainly ate dust that day doll!! God we were good!!!
As for Himself and Big Shot, they secretly live for our mis-adventures and dramas on the high seas, why do you think their wallets are always stuffed with so much cash darhlink, it's our bail money!! Remember when you are finally back here where you belong, pack a nice neat little 'Overnight Jail Bag' so Himself can keep it in his boot for emergencies! We really must find an ingenious way to stash 'Goose' so it won't get confiscated...
I expect good news soon my lovely she-devil... xxx

Absolutely Fabulous

2010-08-12T11:16:00.001+02:00

Philly dahling....

I saw this on you tube yesterday and it had me in pieces!! There's a part in the middle where you think it's over, but carry on watching... I remember more than one occasion that we've found ourselves in similar situations, especially in that little red soft top car I had. Himself says he's not sure it's a good idea that we live in the same city again but I say "bring it on"!!! We will NEVER behave or go quietly! I told him I would have that carrot up his ass surgically removed once we're back at the coast or he could do it willingly, his choice... *cackle* ;op

Have a great day snoobles, love ya!

Gxxx

Welcome back My Gee !

2010-08-11T18:50:00.000+02:00

Who me???

Honey chile', whatever would give you the idea that I would try and talk you into coming to the gym with me, my fragile part- bionic woman? Oh Scoobles, I would never intentionally put you in harms way, I could not imagine seeing pain on your lovely face again, you endure your fair share every day honeybee and I wouldn't want you to go through those horrifying incidents that happened in Barcelona either remember, we were so shaken up! All those skinny women who were 'tripping' down the stairs suspiciously, I can only say thank goodness we were close at hand when they all happened and we were able to climb over them onto our treadmills that had become readily available, they were like gold! We needed our cafe con letche and croissant au chocolate after such diabolical gym experiences! It has taken us a while to even speak about the tragedies, do you still have that gold watch you found under that one we accidentally rolled over with our tackies? I still have that diamond, unusual that nobody claimed them, but we did leave the country not long after that. Oh well.. I do have a free day pass if you want to come for a look, scope the place out, have a coffee? xxx