Crap in A HAT, the term "waking up on the wrong side of the bed" applies to me today! I mean its only 10:30am and I feel ready for bed, I just want to crawl into a featal ball and wake up tomorrow!

LIST OF EVENTS UP TO 10:30

1) Woke up late 7:20am, rush around like a prick

2) Forget gym gear turn around...WTF!!! I turned around for gym gear, should have left that shit...But I promised GF

3)Got to work feeling more tired because I slept longer..YA, you treat your body to a lie in and it scews you by making you a half asleep ijit!

4)GF phones, and I give her a run down of my dysfunctional family dinner last night: My Ol Mans, Girlfiends, son was around for din dins and brought his new model chick, I said that she was pretty and nice, and had half the Sharks rugga team sniffing her bum. You know I was half asleep and just chatting to GF, next thing, silence, KABOOM exposion: GF "so am I not pretty"/GF "Sounds like you really like this girl". The more I tried to placate the more I fell deeper in shit. The honest truth is that I was JUST talkin', I love GF to death (she really is quite spectacular, a Tiger though!!!!)...So GF wants to cut off my so called mind cheating balls.

5)The KILLA, i went for a nice AFP (After Fight Poo), and aaaggghhhh nice, drop off the kids whilst reading a glorious trashy schelb mag, reach for the loo paper, fuckitty FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKKKK, no loo paper, just a shred to dab the tears in my eyes! I contemplated my situation, the different scenarios that I could employ to solve the situation, finally: Peek out the door, no one there, shuffle with pants round ankles, with ass pushed out, steal the next doors bog roll and breath a sigh of relief that no one was in the loo at this time.
5)Screw today, I am going to do as little as possible, just in case the sky falls on my head

Blah

OH, OH, 6) I have to go to F%#*@ING gym tonight!!!! AGGGGHHHH

MONEY, MONEY....MOOONEEEY

So the bottom line is that money drives the world, and lack of it puts you at the ass end of it! I have just bought a house and need to "do it up", when yummy mummies used to say that, I was like: who cares...I CARE NOW, FUUUUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Doing up a house" (so elegantly coined...coined being the operative word) is a serious thing, and I look at the phrase "doing up the house" in a new light.

People have to make a hit load of moola to buy, maintain and add crap to their daily lives, I mean I just want to make my little abode liveable and keep GF happy. I got a butchers block for the kitchen, frikken rad, I can chop shit on an expensive piece of wood, SUPER DUPA. The reason I have a butchers block is all due to the interior designer (don’t call them decorators, they become vicious poodles and want to rip your hetero heart out, SERIAAAAS). I have an interior designer because, when I needed to "do the place up"; I had no friggin clue where to start, what to do and how to do it. I started to try and make it a project and do it myself, until I realized that plumbers/builders and so forth could see me coming from 10 0000 nautical miles away and proceeded to lube my nether regions for an almighty ass raping, now to some that may seem fun, to me a poor jo schmo from DirtBin, not so cool!

I found my interior designer everything happened in a blissful whoosh of emotions, I felt like I was on a before and after show, everything was "handled", UNTIL I received the cost estimate, holy crap balls, cut back on this, and this, and that...designer was having a cadenza about "we JUST have to have this and this", fuck that we can have a plastic/fake/cheap that and that etc.

I still have my expensive wooden butchers block to chop shit though! RAD.

What an insane morning, I mean I woke up needing to get pumped, and went down for a surf at North Beach Durban and it was going off, I mean it was SURFS UP DUDE!!!!

I whipped my stick off the roof of my jam jar, and into the sea. Talking crap, taking the piss with your mates, sharing waves, what a start to the day. Shaking off those crappy cobwebs that life tends to throw at you, wish I could stay out there all day...mmmmm maybe a lunchtime splash?

Agghhh feel good, also because I did the whole handyman thing at GF place last night, I strapped on some power tools and drilled, hung paintings and felt all too manly, hairs on my chest felt good, damn to all those metro-sexuals who shave chests, grow that cave man shit, let it hang out with cave man pride. Jeez, power tools are cool. I think I am going to buy some just walk around with!!!

WHAT A DAY>>>I HOPE NO ONE PISSES ON MY PARADE TODAY!

TABLES TURN!

Important people in your life need to be taken seriously. The only thing is that the current socio-environment that pervades the SA landscape has caused tons of my mates to head to greener pastures, that being said my drinking team has diminished to a token few great white African booze guzzlers (and when we drink, we do so for the first team), it is also causing my GF a host of issues, because all her OBI ONE KONOBIES (friends) have headed away as well. As all men know, when the woman in your life is upset the man gets ALL the flak, and I mean all!

Thus I was consoling and making sure she was OK, and she is ok, we all have moments when we just need to be pissed off with shit! She just hates the fact that all her best gaggle of geese has flown the coup! That’s when I got the call from the last white boozers to hit up a game of poker, now as I hit the big 30, I have slowed down the intake of alcoholic substances, NOT SAT NIGHT BABY! I was stuck to the bottle whilst throwing chips down like a seasoned poker pig, slurring the night away, a beautiful sight...UNTIL, I puked. Puking is something that is so necessary, and that’s gets you back on that horse, of which I did, I stumbled out after poker girating my hips in the most hideous fashion, although at time I felt light on the foot and a flair in my arms, what an idiot I must have looked!

My GAWD did I feel like crap the next day, I lay next to the pool with GF, the tables had turned and she was the one doing the consoling, and canoodling, with: "awww you ok, would you like some juice" etc, I had reduced myself to a 10 year old invalid, and needed sun cream rubbed, food practically fed to me (no aeroplane noise needed though...). Where as last night I was the king. AGh a good w/end, I start gym this week, why do we torture ourselves!!! WHY!!!?

Rember the old Scope mags, man they were tame, compared to what we deal with today. Some classic shit, what concerns me, is that these are the norm now for teenagers to consume on a daily basis in front of their folks, and the good ol' wank bank material for teens has zoomed right up there to hardcore crap that quite frankly bends my brain backwards, I feel sorry for kids now days, they have so much to deal with, or have they?

WTF!! Woman who breastfeeds animals, what the?

MEETING RANDOMS

So instead of me punching a client/or yapping blonds/inneficient personall or whatever, I purge through talking to random people, I find this cheaper than paying for therapy, you also dont realise the amount of free info you get from the most random of people.

Todays Random:

I am having breaky at the Whip Me, scrambled eggs on toast (NICE!) and start chatting to a sweating mommy that is having a dilemma about her kid going to boarding school. Her precious little poopsie is getting buggered up by a perpetuating cycle of underage power mongers and early developing little monsters that thrive on beating the living shit out of weaker "little silver spoon up the bum" kids. This got me vomiting up a tirade of my own experiences of Boarding School (or shall we call it Hitler youth camp), she has all the right in the world to be sweating! I mean boarding school is the best and worst of the world.

BEST:
Use the system to your advantage
Always book things in advance, eat when you are fed
Never embellish the truth (it will always came back and bite you)
Always share your tuck
You can never have to many friends
The putty ass cover thingy mibobby we made to put onto our bum cheeks, to make whippings totally painless (ha ha!!)

WORST:
Getting whipped by an over zealous 50 year old woman - this was truly bizarre
Getting whipped by the donkey who would howl like a demented hog after finishing up - CRAZY!
Getting whipped by Zappy and co, who would wait a full 5 seconds before the next lick
FORGETTING THE PUTTY ON THE BUM TO STOP THE PAIN!


So if you can handle physical abuse, emotional abuse, verbal abuse go to boarding school. Its good it sets you up for life and makes men of men, and turns good catholic school girls into raving nympho's at school socials.