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Archive for November, 2006

Man and woman(tongue in cheek)
A married guy at the office said to me today, “You single guys have it so easy”.
While there is some merit to this little titbit of wisdom, I failed to see how this had anything to do with me as I have been in a relationship for close on 3 years.
It really is all a matter of perspective, isn’t it? When you’re in a relationship, you’re jealous of your single friends. And when you’re single, you’re jealous of your friends who are in relationships and getting laid on a regular basis.
There are pros and cons no matter how you look at it.
Single guys can spend as much time with their mates as they want. Aside from their mothers, they will almost never have a woman nagging them. They can go out when they want, eat what they want, consume as much alcohol as they want, be as loud and obnoxious as they want, burp, fart and scratch their butts freely without any repercussions. They can tune their TV’s permanently to the sports channel and they do not get the silent treatment when they get a sms from an ex-girlfriend. They can watch porn until they OD on it, keep the stack of porn mags in the bedroom and no one will ever ask a single guy why he has a condom in his wallet. Ha ha. They also save a shit-load of money on buying presents and other tokens of affection.
As far as the negatives go, the major drawback is not getting laid… regularly. While no guy has ever been labelled a slut for sleeping around, it is not as easy to find someone to sleep with when you want to get your freak on. In fact, it could be a while between blowjobs. Single guys do not have anyone to hang out with when their buddies are with their girlfriends. Gaming does not count as it will further stunt your attempts at getting punani.
Life in a relationship can be great. You have someone to hold close when you sleep, cuddle up to, spend time with, share your problems with, who tells you you are sexy and charming when you are not. Someone to watch movies with, keep your life and order and who will give you the perfect alibi to watch “When Harry met Sally” without seeming like a wuss.
However… guys who are married or in relationships are constantly in danger of being accused of cheating. Is dancing too closely with another girl considered as cheating? Bumping and grinding on a crowded dance floor look remarkably similar to dry humping, doesn’t it?
Women can also be downright needy, demanding, bitchy and whiny. Then there is the whole PMS thing to deal with and she is guaranteed to be emotionally irrational for at least a week out of every month.
When you given them too much attention, they feel crowded, when you don’t, they crave it. And you can forget about ever winning an argument… it is all about the compromise.
The other major drawback is jealousy. Women will cry and nag you to no end when you want to spend time with your boys. They will get angry and threaten to withhold sex for an eternity, and write the words “dick” or “bastard” in lipstick (or mascara) on you car’s windscreen. She’ll accuse you of everything from thinking she’s fat and undesirable to leaving the toilet seat up.
Once in a while you may meet a girl who will accommodate all your shortcomings, and gives you the best blowjob/sex you’ve ever had… but she may well be a myth and sooner or later you’ll wish there was more to her than just fulfilling your fantasies.
The saying goes: “The grass is always greener”… it does however depend which side of the fence you are on. As for me, I am sticking to “better the devil you know”

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Six shooter

cowboy1. Ever spotted the perfect parking spot only to discover it is the lost breeding ground of abandoned shopping trolleys? Yeah, it happened to me on Saturday. So here a shout-out to the mo-fos who could not be bothered to return the shopping trolleys to their proper place. How about I take a dump on your lawn the next time I’m in the neighbourhood?
2. To the mate (and I use the term lightly) who asked me for advice and shouted “just drop it” the moment he did not like what I had to say. Seriously, dude… don’t ask me if you’ve already made up your mind what you want me to say. Next time, I’ll bill you for time wasted!
3. To the woman who got into the lift this morning and saw that the button to her floor was already lit up. She then proceeded to press it 5 more times! I had no idea the lift had variable speed control. Who knew we’d get to her floor so much faster?
4. To the co-worker who stood at my desk and listened in on the personal conversation I was having with my girlfriend. Just when I thought it could not get more annoying, she kicked it up a notch and proceeded to give me advice on what we were discussing. When she said, “I could not help but to overhear…” it made all the difference to me. Especially when all she could have done was walk away.
5. The genius who tried to open the door to the boardroom after I told him that it was locked. After trying the door several times, he turned to me and said, “It’s locked”. Now I know why in-breeding is a bad idea.
6. Lastly… to the manager who keeps on calling me “big guy”. I can’t think of a single instance (I mean it!) where calling another guy “big guy” could be justified, not even to show admiration. Come to think of it…. especially not when it is to show admiration.

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First Impressions

People Are Strange When You’re A Stranger” — Jim Morrison (The Doors)

Sharing FoodOn Sunday evening [S] and I went out to dinner with one of her co-workers and her husband. They had just moved to Johannesburg from another part of the country and were eager to make new friends. I was initially not keen on the idea, but she’s been pestering us (meaning [S]) about it for weeks. In an effort to get her off our backs, we finally gave in.
We settled on a nearby restaurant we had always wanted to go to, which was for me an unexpected bonus.
We arrived at the restaurant at 7 and settled down to a bottle of wine. We made small talk about this and that, which was good seeing as we hardly knew them. The husband seemed pleasant enough and I found that we actually shared a few common interests. Despite my initial misgivings, everything had turned out fine… or so I thought.
After about 20 minutes of talking, the waiter arrived to take our orders. [S] and I ordered what we would like to have for dinner when the co-worker lets rip with what I consider to be the mother of all embarrassments.
“I am really not that hungry”, she said, “We’re just going to order one thing and share it”
My ears went red! The waiter must have accidentally swallowed a large quantity of his own spit, because he started coughing loudly.
What the fuck did she mean by “they are going to share a meal”? Were we perhaps on Survivor South Africa or is there a food shortage in the country that I was not aware of?
I let my eyes glide the various items on the menu and what they cost (all of which seemed reasonable). Perhaps our companions felt they were a bit too steep and could not afford it? If that was the case, I would happily have paid for all of us. In fact, I would have been more than happy to feed my balls to pack of hungry wolves if that’s what it would take for them to let go of this silly notion.
[S] glanced at me nervously and whispered under her breath that perhaps we should do the same thing.
I shook my head at her and confirmed our order with the waiter. There was no way in hell I was going to let them blackmail me into doing the same.
Let’s be honest. Sharing a plate of food in a restaurant is only cute when you are a teenager. If they wanted to share a meal, let them go ahead and do it. I had my reputation, which isn’t much, to consider.
As a last resort and despite the incessant humming in my ears, I playfully tried to coax the woman into ordering the smallest meal item on the menu, but to no avail. She did not want to budge and I was beginning to feel like I had just followed Alice into Wonderland.
I was most disappointed in the guy for allowing his wife get away with this, but he seemed ok with her unconventional decision. How utterly fucking charming!
Needless to say, the conversation was a bit strained after this. This little incident has just fucked up the entire week that lay ahead of me. That’s definitely the last time I’ll be seen in public with them.
Good luck with making new friends.

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Life with Venus

VenusSometimes women are too polite and conflicted for their own good, especially when it comes to their girl friends. As a consequence they are doomed to suffer in silence which will inevitably lead to an early(?) death… or an ulcer or something equally nasty. Oh wait… that is what men do!
Nevrtheless, let me illustrate.
My gf is very close to the girls she hangs out with. They do everything together, well mostly everything, and know one another’s darkest and deepest secrets.
On Saturday night, two of [S]’s friends had a night on the town. Only they did not invite her along. As a result she spent the evening with me, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but I get the distinct feeling she would have preferred them asking her along. Even if it meant turning them down in favour of me. Either way, they went out without asking her and she never got to make that choice.
Now if this had happened to me and my friends, I’d enquire politely (taking care not to drip with sarcasm) if they had a good time. I would laugh at their little anecdotes and perhaps even chew them out for behaving scandalously. I would also ask them straight out why they did not ask me along. They would act surpised and prolly say that it did not occur to them or that they thought I wanted to spend time with [S]. At which point I will call them a bunch of shallow bastards. They will resent my assumption that they did not want me along and the discussion will end abruptly when one of them finally tells me to stop moaning and move onto something important, like the K-Fed/Britney Spears sex tapes.
Come next Saturday, we will all hang out in some or other pub. The whole debacle of the previous Saturday would be long-forgotten and we would not speak of it again. Problem solved.
Not wanting to seem needy (as defined by KN), my girl has decided to remain quiet and elected to go on an internal “bender” as to why they did not invite her along. Are you shitting me? Racked with insecurity she came up with a heap of excuses… none of which makes sense to me. In fact, it sounded a lot like white noise. She even went as far as assuming that perhaps the bonds of friendship are not as strong as they used to be. (I love my girl, but at this point I almost laughed). My argument is that she is spending too much time on analysis when she should just get over it and move on.
Phew… and I thought our relationship was complicated!
Men just want a quiet life… which is why we invented Boys Night Out to rid ourselves of our inner demons and stop us from thinking.

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Lucky Luke?

Call me!I don’t have anything significant to blog about, but I feel compelled to post something. Well, actually I do… I could do the “8 things about me” meme I got tagged with, or do a follow up on Saturday’s funeral, but I don’t I am too lazy to do that.
Instead I will share with you a strange episode that happened on the weekend.
My long-time mate, Luke invited me to have brunch with him at a trendy little restaurant on Sunday. Luke and I have been mates since university and had remained good friends ever since.
Brunch was not my idea of hanging out, but he insisted that we meet. We had not touched base in over 3 months and he’d be leaving for a 2-month stint in the Saudi Arabia soon. Seeing as I had nothing better to do, I agreed. He also said he would pay and it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. (He he… does it make me cheap?)
The restaurant was only half-filled to capacity, which was a blessing. I don’t like crowded restaurants. It is my experience that service levels and the collective intelligence of the staff is inversely proportional to the number of people present.
By the looks of things most of the patrons were hung-over, but let me not me judgmental. Just because I stayed in on Saturday night, it is no reason to be nasty… let alone jealous!
We had placed our order with our waiter who was a young guy and kinda chatty. He was a nice enough guy as far as waiters go, but Luke and I just wanted to hang out and shoot the shit by ourselves without him hovering over us.
To keep him busy and away from us, I ordered a glass of Chardonnay. Those who know me will know that I don’t like Chardonnay, but a Vodka Martini at 11 AM on a Sunday morning somehow seemed somewhat indecent. Not that I actually cared… I just wanted to make it seem that I had a measure of decorum. I also ordered a bottle of sparkling water just in case I could not bring myself to actually down the Chardonnay.
He finally left and brought our food. He came back a few moments later to make sure everything was good, as a good waiter should, especially when he expects a good tip.
“Well if you need me I’ll be in the back having a cappuccino, he said as he walked away. Then he did the oddest thing. He winked at Luke and lightly placed his hand on his shoulder.
“Did he just come on to me?” Luke asked as soon as he was out of earshot.
“I’m not sure”, I said. “It seemed like it, but then again, he could just be working his way up to a good tip”
I changed the subject and we settled into eating our meals. I was not going to spend the morning discussion the sexual orientation of our waiter, so I launched right into, “so what’s happening with you over the next few months?”
We caught up on old times and what been happening over the past months. It was pleasant means to spend the morning. Just sitting there and catching up on good times, past and present. One seldom realises how much you miss out on and how important it is to keep in touch with your friends.
After two hours of laughter and taking the piss, we called the waiter over to settle the bill and leave the restaurant. The waiter walked us to the front door (odd again) and just as we passed thought it, he handed Luke a piece of scrap paper and said, “Call me”.
Ba-boom! The balls on this guy! I dunno who was more surprised… Luke or me. Luke took the paper from him and we waked away without talking. He crumpled the paper in his fist and dropped it on the ground.
When we got to our cars, I looked over to Luke and said casually…. “So, I guess your social calendar just filled up?”
“Yeah, I guess so”, he shot back and with that we packed out laughing. We laughed so much that both of us ended up sitting on the tarmac. We eventually said our good-byes and drive off.
This incident made me wonder; what made the waiter think it was ok to approach Luke (the consequences could be dire!), and could it be considered harassment if a waiter, male or female, comes on to a patron at a restaurant?
I also realised that I am somewhat of a bigot. Had it been a cute waitress, I probably would have high-fived Luke with an enthusiastic “Attaboy!”, instead of laughing about it hysterically.
It is rare (strange?) that you come across someone you like who actually has the balls to let you know that they like you, even more so when that person is of the same sex.
Perhaps, I need to recalibrate my moral compass? It is something to ponder, don’t you think?

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Dreaded weekend

CrowI have blogged about my irrational fear of dead people before. Necrophobia or the fear of dead people as it is called is the bane of my life. Other than that, I am perfectly normal… he he.
It seems silly that a grown man should feel this way and I know it is completely irrational, but then so is a fear of spiders or small spaces for that matter.
When my Mom called tthis morning to tell me that a sister of my dad had passed away last night after a long illness, all I could think about was the fact that I would have to attend the funeral. Bugger!
Sure I feel sad and my heart goes out to her family and what they must be going through at this time, but if I had it my way, I would rather not attend the funeral… at all.
Unfortunately for me, I am regarded as close family, and it is expected of me to be present. I really have no say in the matter. Come hell or high water I’ll be doing what is expected of me and hating/dreading every minute of it. It is on occasions like these that I wish I could hit the fast-forward/skip-to-next-scene button.
Of course I will also do my damnest to scheme my way out of having to walk up to the coffin to pay my last respects without appearing insolent. Over the years I have come with a few novel ideas on how to avoid walking past the open coffin; all of which I am able to do at the drop of a hat. Yeah, I can be quite the actor when I have to. I doubt my father will happy with me and those who know of my affliction (namely my own family) would probably think me childish. I can only hope that my dad (and I am really only doing it for his sake) will understand and that my presence there would amount to being supportive.
I dread the day when one of my parents passes away. When that happens, I will have to deal with my phobia and get on with what is expected of me. Hopefully when the time comes, I will be grief-stricken to such a degree that it will override the phobia I have.
On Saturday morning, ChittyChittyBangBroek will put on his most heroic face and slip into the role of the good son, in spite of the sweating, irregular heartbeat and general feeling of nausea. .
Half a bottle of vodka or a fistful of valiums may help (I truly am that desperate!), but that will surely raise a few eyebrows and reinforce the negative perceptions and prejudices that already exists.

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cell phones humpingI was just about to sit down and have dinner last night, when my cell phone started ringing. The LCD said it was from a private number. My first instinct was not to answer at all, but then I thought it might be important, so I answered anyway.
“Good evening, sir” said the voice on the other side. I hate it when people call me “sir”, because I instinctively look around to see if my father is standing next to me.
“I am calling from MTN”, he continued. MTN? Dammit, I thought, please don’t tell me that that my cell phone account is overdue or that the debit order has not gone through, coz that will really piss me off and spoil a perfectly good evening.
“As a valued client of ours you have been selected (more likely my name was drawn out of a hat) to receive an MTN credit card…”, and he launched into a speech of how their card is underwritten by a well-known South African bank (who I do not bank with) and how much credit I will receive upon accepting the offer… blah, blah, bloody blah.
My brain stopped functioning rationally after he uttered the words “credit card”, because the idea of receiving one from my cell phone service provider just seemed like something out of a Neil Gaiman novel.
Not wanting to be rude, I politely explained that I already have two credit cards in my possession and that I really do not need to acquire more debt. (How polite am I, huh? Mom would be so proud!)
This did not slow him down one bit. I guess when your salary is dependant on the commission you make, very little would. He went on about how there are no annual fees and that the card would be delivered to my home within 48 hours. All he needed to do was to check that that my personal details matched up with what they had on their system.
These people, if I can call them that, never cease to amaze me. They only choose to hear what they want to hear and any negative sentiments on your part are conveniently glossed over. What the fuck is wrong with cell phone companies anyway? Aren’t they satisfied with screwing us out of our hard-earned money with their overpriced call rates and 24 month contracts?
Desperate times, desperate measures. So I said… “If you can stop being a tool and take your head out of your arse for one precious second, you may have heard me say that I am not interested in tasking up your offer.
Please hang up the phone and move on to your next victim!
I am about to have an incredible three-way with two girls called Amber and Tiffany and unless you want to listen in and wank yourself while we’re going at it, I suggest you hang up… right now! If not… please enjoy!”
He hung up.
(chitty 1:cell phone service provider 0… and the crowd goes wild!)

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