Welcome to Blogdisney
It seems that while I was watching copious episodes of Waking the Dead and Wire in the Blood last night some sort of thing happened on here. Dear Amagama Boys: if the intention is to make this an all ages, Disney blog, you could have stated that up front instead of letting us dick around trying to get comfy in the new space. We like the adult content, we like that we can swear, we like that we can blog about sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll, with impunity. I see in the disclaimer it says people must be 12 years or older to blog here. Twelve? Come on!
So, Tafelberg gets in trouble because he says “fuck” too much. Can we all spell B-I-G B-R-O-T-H-E-R? Will I end up the delete queue because I say “cunt”?
I moved into this site specifically to avoid fluffy bunny rubbish. I think many of us did. We had a great little community. You appear to have decided to clean up, thereby destroying the moderate sized dysfunctional family we had. That’s OK. Some of those people we didn’t really like anyway.
If this is now a DisneyBlog, I think you should be straight about it. Tell us what the plan is. First we have loads of tech issues, but the die-hards hang in there (me being one of them) and now it seems there is censorship. Which I won’t hang around for, I have had enough of censorship in my life so anything that remotely smells of it sends me running. So, please be clear so we can start looking for a new home if that is necessary.
Hermitisation
My children are off to their dad for the weekend and Artist is going to Durban to see his dad, this means I am home alone. I can barely contain myself with joy.
Yes, I should be going with artist to see his sick dad, but I have something on at work on Monday so just can’t. My plan is to stock up on yummy food, get a whole score of DVDs and lock myself in for the two days. I may well not even get out of my jammies. I will not need to speak to anyone, get up for anyone or cook for anyone (not that I do much of that anyway).
I really need this time on my own. I always enjoy it but it doesn’t happen very often really. The bliss of being a couch potato for two days is not to be underestimated.
Blog for Sale
The little Technorati widget Basilisk suggested says my blog is worth more than US$6k. Excellent. Anyone want to buy?
PayPal accepted.
I need to upgrade to a bigger, less sluggish blogsite.
Get your own blog evaluation at: http://www.business-opportunities.biz/projects/how-much-is-your-blog-worth/
Cheers Basilisk
K Chasu: the happy office fairy
Today I get to do my favourite thing: write letters to my employees telling them they have a pay increase. I know it sounds kind of lame, but really there is nothing better than letting people know they are appreciated. I may be a perfectionist and give them a hard time and refer to them as minions once in a while, but these are excellent people and I love and respect each of them.
Even better is that not one of them will be off toyi-toying because it’s low. I have always believed that loyalty is very much tied into what people get in their pay cheques. Obviously there are other rewards like praise and lunches and things, but at the end of the day: money talks.
Purple Dot in Pain
If a doctor ever took a full body xray of my Purple Dot, they would think she is an abused child. This springs to mind because she fell at my mom’s house and broke her finger this morning.
Not long ago she fell off a dining room table (don’t ask) and broke her arm. Before that she fell off the jungle gym at school and broke the other one. She lost the pad off a finger slamming it in a door, she has a cracked skull from a swing colliding with her head and a nasty burn on her leg from a motorbike.
As a toddler she constantly looked like she was growing a cluster of horns from bumping her head. I can’t tell you how many times I have been to the emergency ward with her.
With Kit it was oncologists, but she never hurts herself.
Purple Dot has yet to figure out what her body’s limitations are. So, my mom has had her at the hospital today because I have been in meetings.
Better go home soon and nurse her.
Kamikaze Yaris Drivers
Woke up this morning to the snow, about half an inch thick in the garden. Utterly beautiful, so I trekked outside in my pink fluffy slippers and dressing gown to investigate. What a great start to the day. Then I encountered, on the way to work, one of those bloody annoying Yaris drivers.
I can just picture the sales pitch:
Yaris dude: “Ya – these are lekker man. Super powerful, you can even take on a Subaru.”
Buyer: “Seriaaas?”
Yaris dude: “Ya, it will klap those Subarus and Audis.”
Buyer: “I’ll take one.”
This is the only reason I can find that every single fucking Yaris driver feels it has to take me on. I am a fairly aggressive driver, but I can be. My car is fast, powerful and safe. Yet these funny coloured Yaris efforts hurtle along like mad things, rev at the lights in a “come on I can take you” kind of way and then do their best to edge in front.
They can’t win. I am in a Subaru. They are in a Noddy car. But they try. I have nothing against Toyotas – lovely things. Reliable, quick, handle well – but why, dear God why, do they all think they are in some sort of a bling pimp-mobile with nitrous powering the engine?
I will avoid Yaris drivers in future. Find a back route. They are dangerous in a kamikaze sort of way.
Aghast…
My mother had an old, large vanity case. It was dark green with a shiny chrome buckle and had intrigued me for a long time. When I was very small it had been full of old lace and buttons from mum’s childhood and that of her own mother’s. Many a happy hour had been spent poking through it and matching the contents, pondering the history. For some time now it had been on the top shelf of her dressing room cupboards, far out of reach. Until the evening my brother and I were left with a babysitter and I went exploring.
I was a nosy child, always looking through things that I had no business with at all, which caused much consternation and endless punishments, but it was me.
Having scaled the shelving and teetering on tiptoes I gripped onto the vanity case and pulled it onto the floor. At 15 years old I was not ready for what I found.
Inside that vanity case was a lace and satin corset, browns and creams, with suspenders for stockings; a leather breast thing with steel hoops for the breasts to stick out and a latex body suit. There was also a black dildo.
There is nothing like realizing your parents are having sex. Not just any old sex, but strange stuff. I felt awkward around them both for years.
Antidepressants, OCD and blogging
So, in my full blown attempt to stop smoking my doctor gave me a prescription for an antidepressant called Paxil. It’s stronger than Zyban and specifically designed to rid us of OCD behaviour, such as smoking. What I didn’t bargain on was a slow dwindling of my OCD need to blog.
I just can’t be arsed – bit like it is with the cigarettes really. I can’t decide if this is good or bad. It has meant that I wrote two strategies since monday, attended a company breakfast at the Grace without fidgeting, have not been online at night and am sort of participating more. Even went to yoga on Sunday morning.
I hadn’t thought of blogging as OCD in any way, but seeing that the drugs seem to be slowing it down, it clearly is.
Will poke my head in when the mood takes me, but I won’t be on these things forever. Never fear blogbuddies – I’ll be back.
A new non-smoker
I stopped smoking about 36 hours ago. Might not seem like long, but when I smoke I don’t get to three hours without having one. It’s funny – I am in a delightfully silly mood, no crankiness. Just a strange disconnection from time to time which means driving is a bit dodgy. I literally zone out.
So, I read that Alan Carr book and went yesterday for Nogiers Therapy which worked for me last time I quit. The withdrawal is there, but not too bad. Like a hunger pang, but I have to not eat. I know if I do I will smoke again cos I hate to be fat. I drink water instead.
It feels pretty good, I do miss it though. It seems that the more times I do something without a cigarette, the easier it gets. Like cups of coffee, food – as my brain learns it is not getting a fag after, it will stop wanting one. Habits can be unlearned.
My Artist is still smoking, so I have grave doubts about how long I will be able to hold out. But I am just doing it in the moment, not having a cigarette right now. Same way I did giving up booze some years ago.
Humming along…
I am tired of Subarus. This is the fourth one I have owned. New plan: I need a Hummer. Have just visited the website and plutzed all over the place for the Hummer Luxury effort. I will get a black one with chrome finishes and a black interior. Yes, a pimp mobile. I called the dealer in Fourways and they cost a lot less than I thought they did. The Hummer Base (entry level) costs R375k. The luxury is a hundred grand more.
Can I afford this right now? No. But in ten months my Subaru will be ready for a trade-in. I have had it just over a year and it is getting on my nerves. I never liked this one as much as the previous one. Can’t be arsed with the paint colour either. It’s a metallic blue and scratches easily. Stupid boot design too.
Anyway – I want a Hummer for various reasons including size and safety. But mostly, I want every prick on the road to see my car and be aware of it. Plus the fact that I could squash beggars and not even feel a ripple as I do it is quite attractive.
Play around blogbuddies on www.hummer.co.za. You can custom build a virtual one.
Can I wait a year? Think I might start phoning vehicle finance people and see what I can do. But wait! Maybe I can get a proper Humvee?
