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February 07, 2013
It's (pre) Friday!
Yes, this is yet again a pre-Friday edition as it is
Wednesday Thursday as I type. However, this may be none of your concern as it might indeed be Friday as you read. The situation could therefore be slightly confusing.
Should you however have happened upon this blog not knowing who the heck is what, and have no actual concern about the day, OR (like me) you are totally confused most days about what day of the week it actually is (and therefore this scribble isn’t helping any), like everyone else you’re kinda befuddled. In short, if you know today what day will be tomorrow while remembering that yesterday was actually the today when written about on
Wednesday Thursday, you’re doing well.
Alternatively, you don’t care and read on regardless.
So things have been a tad out of control so far and it’s not getting any better. The previous editions (that actually made it onto the blog) were miracles in themselves – and not of the good sort or standard. More of the kind that scrapes through when every action hero and Indiana Jones wannabe already went “Oops, too late!”
So, by Jupiter, I decided to try the pre-Friday route. However, even that is starting to go pear-shaped – seems every man and his dog (Cocker Spaniel) needs something done – urgently! On top of that I was almost murdered by Woolworth – twice! Nono, not IN Woolworths, BY Woolworths!!
You see, parking in this little hamlet of mine is always an issue – more so over holidays. With the BIG corporates moving in, “developing” parking space into shopping centres and shutting us off with huge booms and money sucker boxes, we’re left little choice than to shift our vehicles hour by hour, parking lot to parking lot, covertly, or use the bus. No buses in this little hamlet though. (and apparently I don’t really have to move the car so often – according to my colleagues I can leave my car in one spot. In the sun. All day… WTFluff??!!)
Anyhoo, back to the murdering. You see, this morning arriving at work and unable to find a shady spot for the car, I was forced to park in the most prime and shady free parking spot in front of Woolworths – beautiful! When I eventually returned there – many hours later – I wanted to buy cake for the kids (as you do when stealing parking and feeling guilty about it). So I bought cupcakes. And two shirts.
However, when trying on a shirt in the fitting room, the sleeves immediately wrapped my arms into a contortionist grip, the back rolled up and fused my shoulders to my ears, while the collar went for the jugular rendering me immobile and partly suffocated. Twisting every way and back didn’t help either – only exhausted me more. I felt like Houdini in a straitjacket. Well no, that would imply I had the ability to get out… I wasn’t going anywhere! And I was slowly losing consciousness. When things started going dark – through brute strength and desperate determination – I managed to undo some buttons on the shirt – with my teeth. OK, so at least now I could breath, but my arms were still wrapped tightly around my head, turning numb and losing all ability. I’ll spare you the details: suffice to say, if anyone were to record what went on in that cubicle I would most definitely have made a star appearance on YouTube’s Most Talented Breakdance charts.
Upon dragging myself from the cubicle, arms dangling helplessly at my sides, face red from exertion (and chafing) I grabbed the bag of cupcakes… well, kinda limply pawed at it with a helpless, lifeless limb until one fell out. I needed the sugar. With a flick of the tongue I had the cup off and cake in my mouth...
And in waltzes murder-with-vicious-intent-attempt #2: who in their right mind would place a second paper cup on a cup-cake?! Who in any mind??!!
Again, gonna spare you the detail, but when I eventually came to – with a sudden jolt in the midriff, in the steely grip of a gargantuan boere-tannie with tree-stump arms wrapped around me, my feet dangling inches above the floor, and a shop assistant 5 meters away with a soggy paper-cup on his face – I knew I had outstayed my parking. These corporates are mean!
Fortunately I’m married to judogirl and this is an almost everyday occurrence – a lesser mortal would probably never have made it out of there alive (or intact)!
So it’s been life as usual.
Thank you for the contributions received. It’s quite a cosmopolitan mix today: Australian Spin (no, not Shane Warn – political spin), dating in Africa, money from Japan, faceless sex everywhere, and a blonde orders a beer in Brakpan.
I have also included a set of very effective neck exercises as my pick of the week, very generously supplied by the Lawman. Thanks also to friend moonstone, babydoll and Staminos.
Have a grand weekend!
Politics, Aussie style
Doesn’t matter whatever industry you’re in, there are always the odd little bunch who are hard at work trying to give the rest a bad name. But then I think of politicians and realise that we really have a long way to go before we join their ranks. And what they are best at is the spin they place on events. The following story explains it better than I can:
Judy Rudd, an amateur genealogy researcher in South East Queensland (Australia), was doing some work on her own family tree. She discovered that ex-Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's great-great uncle, Remus Rudd, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Melbourne in 1889. Both Judy and Kevin Rudd share this common ancestor.
The only known photograph of Remus shows him standing on the gallows at the Melbourne Jail.
On the back of the picture Judy obtained during her research is this inscription:
“Remus Rudd: horse thief, sent to Melbourne Jail 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Melbourne-Geelong train six times. Caught by Victoria Police Force, convicted and hanged in 1889.”
So Judy recently e-mailed ex-Prime Minister Rudd for information about their great-great uncle, Remus Rudd. Prime Minister Kevin Rudd's staff sent back the following biographical sketch for her genealogy research:
"Remus Rudd was famous in Victoria during the mid to late 1800s. His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Melbourne-Geelong Railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the Victoria Police Force. In 1889, Remus passed away during an important civic function held in his honour when the platform upon which he was standing, collapsed."
(now THAT's spin even Warnie would be proud of... when he’s not swearing at other players… or having another face-lift… Go AUS!!)
Dating in Africa
Two veld mice (a field mouse by any other name, but this is Africa after all) are snacking on a lost and lonely packet of cheese-puffs while chatting about their boyfriends.
The one veld mouse takes out a picture of her boyfriend and shows it to her friend.
“Ooh, he’s a sexy wee devil, isn’t he? Look at those dark stripes over his broad shoulders… wow, very handsome!” her friend says.
"Thanks. And he’s a real gentleman too. But show me what yours looks like then,” says the first veld mouse.
Her friend mouse takes a picture of her boyfriend from her little mouse handbag.
The veld mouse takes one look at the picture and exclaims “But that’s a bat, for goodness sakes!”
Shocked, her friend grabs the photo, looks at it, and hisses “That lowlife! And all this time he’s been telling me he’s a pilot!”
Shorts (you may want to have a beer or two before reading these…)
I was in the jungle and there was this monkey with a tin opener. I said, 'You don't need a tin opener to peel a banana.' He said, 'No, it’s for the custard.'
I told my mum that I'd opened a theatre. She said, 'Are you having me on?' I said, 'Well I'll give you an audition, but I'm not promising you anything.'
I visited the offices of the SPCA today. It's tiny: you couldn't swing a cat in there.
I phoned the local ramblers club today, but the bloke who answered just went on and on and on…
This policeman came up to me with a pencil and a piece of very thin paper. He said, 'I want you to trace someone for me.'
I phoned the local builders today, and asked, 'Can I have a skip outside my house?' He said, 'I won’t stop you!'
Now let’s exercise…
The following exercise regime was developed after years of research. The studies proved increased neck mobility and range of motion particularly in men (age group 12-97). Some candidates suffered severe muscle stiffness after participating in the study for the first time, although the fatality ratio was low (and it is believed the candidate involved actually had a neck fusion BEFORE participating in the study). Therefore, take care when considering to participate in strenuous exercise if you haven’t consulted with your medical practitioner first.
Repeat this easy-to-follow exercise regime as often as you like, and you too, could soon look like yourself… with a better, healthier neck!
The actual exercise chart follows as my Pick of the Week – enjoy!
In my continued effort to educate on the ever changing state of current global financial affairs, the following best describes the concept of Forex Fluctuations…
I was at my bank today.
There was a short line: only one lady in front of me – an Asian lady – who was trying to exchange Yen for Dollars.
It was obvious that there was a slight communication gap between client and teller and a lot seemed to be “lost in translation”.
The lady was a tad more than just a little irritated as the communication gap started to get to her. With hands going everywhere, much like an Italian man’s, she asked the teller, "Why it change? Yesterday I get two hunat dolla fo yen. Today you only gimmi hunat eighty dolla? What wong - why it change?"
The teller, having reached the end of his explanatory ability, and at total loss for words, shrugged his shoulders and in his best bank employee manner said, "Fluctuations."
The Asian lady stared at him, through her hands in the air, and shot back, "Fluc you Europeans too!” and stormed out.
Beers, Blondes & Boobs (and not necessarily in that order…)
A blonde walks into a bar, sits on a highchair and orders a beer. The bartender fills the mug and slides it down the bar. It hits the blonde woman's boobs and beer splashes all over them.
The bartender shakes his head, goes over, retrieves the mug and licks the beer off her boobs.
A guy two chairs down looks on incredulously.
Each time the blonde calls for another beer, this happens.
So after the third beer, the guy is more than anxious to help the bartender out.
As the next mug of beer hit her boobs, the man jumps up and starts to lick her breasts...
Without blinking she decks him!
He lies on the floor moaning, feeling his bruised jaw, “Jeez lady... what’s wrong? You let the bartender do it?”
“Duh,” says the blonde. “He’s gotta licker license…!”
Pic of the Week
Neck Exercises 101
Follow me on twitter @waynnesworld for regular updates and random thoughts