I’m sorry Mily

Today is the day that I have to put my doggie down at the vet.

Mily, I’m sorry boy.

• I’m sorry I wouldn’t let you hump Susie’s head.  But to be fair, she didn’t like it very much
• I’m sorry I laughed every time you got frisky with the tree instead
• I’m sorry you went blind and walked into things all the time
• I’m sorry I kept playing ‘pina colada’ knowing you would howl everytime because there is a note your poor little blind doggie ears couldn’t handle
• I’m sorry I couldn’t find anyone who would take you and love you as much as I would
• I’m sorry I forgot to feed you before I went out last night, that would have been your last meal you know.  So this mornings cheese was instead, I’m sure you wouldn’t have minded, you like cheese
• I’m sorry the fleas irritated you so much, I sprayed you often enough and fed you tablets to kill them, but they liked your blood too much to stay away
• I’m sorry Flea’s two boy doggies took a shining to Susie and you had to run around protecting her all the time
• I’m sorry I shouted at you when you vomited on my bed.  Thrice.
• I’m sorry I laughed at you this morning when you lifted your leg to pee outside and fell over because you lost your balance, old man.
• I’m sorry you have to die because I was retrenched and need to give up your home.  People don’t realize how retrenchment effects a persons life, especially yours.
• I’m sorry you didn’t get to see 2008 like I will.  I’m sure it would’ve been your best year, you were so happy here.

I love you my big blind boy.  I hope you enjoyed living with me all these months as much as I enjoyed living with you.

I am in love

With the lead singer of the Parlotones.  I have no idea what his name is, but his eyes freak me out in such a good way.  I have bumped Ryan Kankowski down to a lower pedestal in order to have this dudes babies.  Brangelina’s kid can kiss our kids ass in the looks department.  Combine my brains, wit, humour and beauty with his eyes?  Pssh, no contest.  Har har.  I mayke a jo-ke.

Seriously though, that band definitely deserves the title of South Africa’s no. 1 and their energetic performance on stage made up for my sore feet, standing up in an over crowded club that reminded me of being back in the school science lab, and getting hit on by weird looking vaalies in muscle vests with crocs on their feet.

I have to sign off now and go roll into my bed.  A Breakfast in Pita at 2am from Bimbo’s is hard work to digest, yo.

Fuck it, I’m traumatised.

Jesus.  I hate being a female sometimes.

Today I decided that I have looked like a monkey for long enough, and went to go and replenish my stock of veet.  While in the fem products isle, I grabbed a box of tampax.  You know, just so that I have it handy. 

Just as I turn around, I walk slap bang into a dutchman closely resembling an equal mix of the powerhouse gym freak dog and Vin Diesel, and as luck would naturally have it with all things Sheenafied, the box of tampax flies right into his shopping basket.  Excuse me while I just popmyhandintoyourbasketandgrabmywomanplugs thankyouverymuch, thinks I.  "No wurrrrries chick, I see vose fings all the time wiff ma sister haha" says he.  I turn around and scurry to the till, muttering under my breath, talking myself out of a red flush all over my cheeks "Self," says I, "stop the fucking train, its natural to buy these things, goddamit, don’t blush!"

The Spar manager spots me and comes over to greet his customary greetings and unfortunately says hello right to my tampax box.  His face goes blood red.  ‘Ag shame, I think the manager is embarrassed’ the stupid cashier says to me.  Yeah, no shit, Sherlock bloody Holmes!

In my hurry to get the hell out of there, I drop my car keys and they slide right under the counter.  As I bend down, my skirt gets hooked on a randomly placed screw and tears just as I bump my head on the stupid credit card signing place block type thing that they always have slap bang in the way of where you are trying to pay.

I grabbed my packet of female goodness, slung it over my wrist, one hand bunching up my now torn skirt, the other clutching onto my car keys while rubbing my head, and the entire walk across the parking lot I felt eyes burning into the back of my skull.

Life is so unfair.  Why can’t normal things happen to me? 

I’m never going shopping for woman things again.  Serious.  I will hire someone to go in for me and I will stay safely in the car.  I’m serious. But the good news is, my legs aren’t hairy and monkey like anymore.  Smiley face.

Status update on where I am

I’m meant to be packing up my house into boxes but with the heat here today I have exactly a little bit less than half of sweet bugger all motivation or incentive.  I’m also supposed to be euthanising Milo at the vet today, but my heart is just not in it and the thought of having until Monday keeps me putting it off until then.  I know I should do it sooner rather than later, but I just can’t shake the thought of how horrible it is going to be holding a living creature while it dies like I had to do with Kiera.

Jiminy Cricket offered to take him for me, but I feel so bad that he won’t be with someone who loves him like I do.  I think I will take the morning off and go with.  Yes, thats what I will do.  Come Monday, I will pucker up my big brown eyes and be a big girl who don’t cry.

Aside from getting into bed at 3am this morning after dancing up a storm and watching my friend Wallnut gate crash the live band’s stage and take over the microphone, I am tired because of all the stress I’ve had lately.   I don’t need to list the last two months dramatic events, but you all know how badly I want to run away and have a holiday.  The good news is, the tickets have been booked and I leave for Cape Town on the 10th of January.  Yay for a different climate, new faces, a new bed and less stress.  I’m also hoping for some dandy distractions and business on this blog with regards to advertising.  Have you noticed the new tabs at the top of this page yet?  If not, go have a look, tell your friends and help a girl out yo!

There’s love in the air, if you haven’t already been slapped with it by reading my two friends Glug and Angel.  Guys, I can only wish you the very best of love, life and laughter.  I couldn’t think of two better people hooking up and I am proud to say that I know the latest and newest celebrity blogger couple   Well done, you two.  Its great news and every time I find myself slipping a little into the depression bucket I think of you two and smile, so thank you.  I’m really bummed that I can’t make it for new years like I wanted to, but will definately make a plan to see you in the flesh before I fly out to whichever foreign country I am going to soon.

So thats it really, now you know where I am at with my plans.  I’m moving back into my old flat at my parentals place until I go to Cape Town, so if you have any spare Xanax, Prozac, Heroin or even Rescue drops, please send now.

Okloveyoubye
xoxo

PS:  I will be blogging for the time being but there might be a period of a few days where I won’t be in which you can imagine me scrounging through every laptop retailers basket from here to timbucktoo looking for a good deal as the one I’m using now belongs to my company and I will be leaving within the next few days.

A thinker post

Ever wondered why you make an effort with someone when you aren’t sure if they’re worth it or not? I don’t often wonder, but I am now.

I make an effort with every single person I meet, be it online, in person, at the shop or out and about with my mates.  I give each person common courtesy and am polite unless the person deserves less.

When I met Andrew, we had read each others blogs for a while before, and had a fair idea of who each person was.  I was cute and cuddly and sweet (har har) and he was an asshole.  He admitted to lying all the time, showed no respect for woman and generally just came across as horrible.  Yet.  When he spoke to me, he was different.  He would hate to admit that, but he was gentle and kind and caring.  When he finally came clean and told me he’d fallen in love with me, I was shocked.  This went against everything his blog stood for.  He was a player in a flashy car, when I met him, he was dating three girls at once.  He loved no one.  Yet here he was professing his love to me.

One of the first questions he ever asked me was ‘why bother with a liar’ to which I replied ‘who says I’m bothering?’ but the truth was, I did bother.  I took hours out of my days at work, home, sitting at friends houses, to talk to him and probe deep into his soul, and he let me.  I got to know the real Andrew, and it both scared and excited us.  Andrew was worth it.  I’ll never regret meeting him or falling in love under such strange circumstances.

Its not always so rosy though, is it?  I mean, aside from Andrew ending up dead, things were perfect for us, but that doesn’t always happen when you make an effort with someone.  Sometimes, you can really put yourself out there and get nothing back.  Or you can get a little bit back, but then just when you think you’re getting somewhere with someone on an intellectual level, they turn around and bite you on the ass.

Sometimes trying to get someone to open up and befriend you back is like drawing blood from a stone.

Sometimes, people just aren’t worth the effort you put into getting to know them.

I won the war against Wimpy

And now I am smug.  Bitching sometimes does come in handy, especially when you order a sandwhich and it takes one hour, forty five minutes, three phone calls and a sparring insult-swapping session with the manager.

I sit here munching on a free bacon, cheese, tomato & onion sandwhich which I will wash down with my free coke.

Take that, mofo’s!

All my life I wanted to be …

… a lame house wife on TV who smiles like she has a carrot stuck up her bum when advertising devestatingly exciting cleaning products such as veet, preen & toilet duck cleaners. 

I wanted to wear sensible clothes with buttons all the way up to my neck and have my hair in a bun with perfect court shoes and a frilly aprin around my waist. 

I wanted the ‘All-American’ husband and the average 2.4 children (one boy, one girl and one bun in the oven) while driving in my family station wagon. 

I wanted to be average and smile for the camera and make millions at home either roll their eyes in jealousy or vomit in disgust.

Not.

I just want to be me.  Simple and strange and different.  I like that.

Searches that lead (weird) people to this site

1.    Slipper hurt my foot.  (Well Shame, you poor person you.  Please explain to me how Mr. Google can assist you with this current problem?)

2.    How to get drunk girls home with me.  (Well, Sparky, this is how:  make sure your nails are clean, because no woman in her right mind will let you touch her anywhere with dirty nails.  Once that’s sorted, ensure your person looks presentable and that you are not a sex freak look-a-like.  Girls don’t really like that much.  How you actually get the drunk girl to your actual house I don’t actually know.  Maybe you could ask Jeffery Dahlmer, you sick Fuck!)

3.    Woman in KZN looking for audult fun.  (The place to go:  Teasers.  You can’t touch them much, but maybe if you sit on your hand long enough and call it Foxy, you might find some loving with a difference once you get back home.  Jerk off.  And its adult.  ADULT.)

4.    Famdamily.  (I have one of those too!  Except, mine is slightly bigger than yours and my dad can kick your dads ass.)

5.    Portable Pussy.  (It was a joke people, sheesh!  On a serious note, I thought only my internet mate and I were this insane, you don’t actually believe those things are real, do you?)

6.    Doing dead people hair for funerals.  (Wow, that must be a totally awesome job.  Not.)

7.    Things to do for boyfriends and girlfriends.  (Well now, one or two things you could try:  1.  kamasutra 2.  handcuffs.)

8.    Something dying inside of me.  (Dear god, did you eat a frog?  I hear those things can’t live long inside you. Get medical assistance, guy, like now!)

9.    Is my son doing crack?  (Jeez, lady, I dunno!  You should get one of those drug checker thingies.  That might help.)

10.   Going home to Jesus.  (Well, lets hope he cooked me an apple pie, yo.  He’s good at that.  I’m so glad I married Jesus. Sigh)

11.    I am busy spring cleaning (well good for you! You missed a spot, right there behind your anal tendancies)

12.   Fuck off stupid bitch (well now! didn’t your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap when you were so rude?)

13.   "i’m worth more than that" (you keep telling yourself that, sunshine)

14.   Rhyme sheens (leans? cleans? preens? its not that hard really)

15.   They make you lay on a cold hospital bed (You could always ask them to warm up the hospital sheets?)

16.   I am a boy and i was a girl (wow.  Now there’s some ingredients for confusion. Sorry for you buddy)

17.   Are you sarcastic? (Who, me?  Never. Evar. Like, never, ever, ever. Pssh.) 

18.   Wossa virgin?  (Someone who doesn’t like bumping uglies)

Marykissedmyass on Dec 25th 2007

• A torch to shine some light onto the future
• Baby oil to slip in and out of trouble
• Rennies to relieve heart ache
• Panado to take away the stress
• Wine to make you merry and juice up the body
• Hugs to spread the love

This is what I wish for each and every one of you.

Happy Marykissedmyass everyone