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Slut?Overheard this conversation between the gf, [S] and one of her friends.

Friend: I like everything about this guy. Pity, I don’t stand a chance with him.
[S]: Of course you do. You are being too hard on yourself.
Friend: The only reason a guy like him would go out with a girl like me is because he thinks I’m a slut.
[S]: Well there you have it. Prove him right… then prove him wrong.

I don’t need to worry, do I?

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HidingDuring our lunch break yesterday, a close colleague and I went to the mall to get something to eat. WE stopped of at one of those fast-food joints that has a take-away section, but also has a sit-down area where you can eat your food, should you feel like it.
We were almost at the front of the queue, when he unexpectedly freaked out.

HE (covering the one side of his face): Oh shit… oh shit… oh shit!!
ME (alarmed): What’s the matter? Did we forget something?
HE: That girl sitting over there. I don’t want her to see me.
ME (doing some serious rubbernecking): Which one? Where?
HE: The blond sitting over there in the corner… with the red blouse on.
ME: I see her. How do you know her?
HE: I kinda tried to pick her up in a bar last week. Things went really well, she gave me her phone number and I promised to call.
ME: So what’s the problem?
HE: I never called.
ME (smiling): Why not? She‘s really hot.
HE: Uh, yeah… there’s a slight problem. I already have a girlfriend.
ME (amused): Ouch! I forgot about that. You should’ve just told her the truth.
HE: I know that now. (Insert gf’s name) had a major fallout earlier that week. I truly believed we were over. I was feeling kinda low and I enjoyed the attention. It’s nice to be desired. The next day (insert name of gf) and I sorted things out. Calling back seemed wrong. What would I have said to her?
ME: Erm… “I had good time last night, but I am not ready to get involved”
HE: Wise ass! I know… I’ll put my glasses on so she won’t recognise me.
[He puts the glasses on]
ME: So… what… you’re like Clark Kent now?
HE (anxious): Shut up and walk. Let’s just get out of here.
ME (disappointed): But what about the food? I am friggin hungry, dammit!
HE: I’ll stick you for a proper lunch tomorrow.
Me (giggling): Dude, you are seriously messed up. I was so looking forward to seeing you squirm.
Can I use this to blackmail you next time I need a favour?

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The finer things in life(click on picture to enlarge)
When [S] called me in a frenzy of excitement this morning to tell me that she has won tickets to a wine tasting evening at a well-known restaurant in Rivonia, I groaned loudly.
“Oh honey, can’t you donate the tickets to someone who cares about that kind of thing?” [Silence] Needless to say I did not score any points in that intricate game of relationship etiquette.
Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a bit of culture as much as the next person, but being a bit of a “boykie” who grew up in the southern suburbs of Cape Town, wine-tasting does not exactly feature high on my list of things I would rather be doing with my free time. My idea of stepping out of my comfort zone is having fancy cocktails with unpronounceable names in an upmarket pub.
I have only been to one wine tasting many years ago. It took me less than five minutes to realise that I did not belong. Even back then the main attraction was the prospect of drinking large quantities of wine (which did not materialise) and not having to pay for it.
What does fascinate me about these evenings is the elaborate rituals and terminology used by wine experts when they’re telling us what to drink and why.
First we had to learn the basics of wine tasting. We were taught how to pick up a glass, delicately, holding the base of the glass between the thumb and the first two fingers and not as I tend to do, with a nonchalant grab.
Next, you have to learn how to swirl with small circular movements of your hand to let the air in and allow the wine to breathe, which quite frankly looked faintly ridiculous to me. Picture the Queen waving to the crowd from the balcony at Buckingham palace with a glass in her hand.
We were shown how to hold our glasses up to the light and appreciate the subtleties of colour in our wine. We applied noses to our glasses, breathing in the bouquet. We took delicate mouthfuls, swirled it around on our tongues and then spat them out (what a waste). By that time I was ready for a large Scotch, but it was not to be.
The rest of the lesson was more like a lesson in anatomy. We were told that wine had a nose, body and legs. Wine had a robe, a bouquet, a personality, an essence.
And if that was not enough, it was also required of one to describe what you had just tasted. So, as we dutifully sipped and spat, the wine expert provided a running commentary on the wines under review.
The first wine was velvety and bold, even a little bosomy. The second, earthy, but generous, with hint of black pepper (how is a hint generous?). The descriptions became more and more bizarre – vanilla, oak, grass, truffles, hyacinths, violet, sun-ripened strawberries, liquorice, vetiver, potpourri, galbanum, vintage leather, wet dogs, skunks, baby vomit, cat pee an old gym socks. Asparagus?
What surprised me most is that there was never a mention of the main ingredient. Grapes. Apparently they are not considered exotic enough to gain a place in the wine-lover’s vocabulary.
Over the years, I have avoided wine tasting like the plague. Not that I have many opportunities to go to these things. What with me being a mere suburban nine-to-fiver and all.
I know when I’m out of my depth. I’d much rather head for the nearest bar, hunch my shoulders in concentration, and raise my eyes to heaven over an ice cold beer.
I am a cultural wasteland. [Cue the tumbleweed.]

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I’ve been tagged again… OH BOY… by none other than Terri, the ‘Irish‘ Saffa, to blog about my quirks. Please no more, I beg you!
So here I go again, baring my soul and risk people looking at me funny. Oh what the heck… they already do. Oddly enough, a self-confessed “wacko” like me has surprisingly few quirks… or is 15 a bit too much.

  1. I line things up with the edges of my desk, like the piles of paper are always square and in the exact corner of my desk
  2. If I have a lot of change, I’ll put some in each pocket. Then I’ll thrust my hands into my pockets and try to count them simultaneously by feel alone and add the totals in my head. The problem is that other ppl, think I am touching myself. Once, while waiting in line at the bank, a woman kept looking at me. I got so pissed at her that pretended to have an orgasm. I think she almost fainted. (Be warned: I have no shame!!)
  3. Whenever I think of something bad, or wrong that could cause bodily harm, I always clench my fists and will shake my head once to rid myself of the thought.
  4. I will purposely refuse to do something because I fear I may not be good at it. Then I go and do it anyway because I cannot bear not knowing.
  5. I’ll flirt with anyone and everyone, just to see how far I can push the other person’s boundaries. It’s a game to me and things don’t always work out as planned. There are many times when the other person pushes me beyond my boundaries instead.
  6. Let’s get weird… I cannot wear the same piece of clothing like a jersey or a jacket or trousers/jeans more than once unless it has been washed/cleaned, even if it is not dirty. If I have to take off my socks for some reason, like when I go swimming or walk bare feet, I cannot put them back on again.
  7. If I see a lot of numbers, I try to see if the numbers are somehow related. Like if there is something that I can add, subtract, multiply, divide, etc. to get them to all be connected to one another.
  8. I can’t fucking stand it when people are too close to me or look over my shoulder when I use my computer.
  9. I have to be the one to pick up a girl. If she tries to pick me up, I’ll tell her to fuck off even is she is the sexiest, cutest thing on two legs. I’d hate myself afterward, but that is how I am.
  10. I hate kissing family members at reunions or parties. Those of you who are South African will know that the traditional custom is to kiss on the mouth. Yikes!! I hate that with all my being!
  11. When I get up in the morning, the very first thing I do is take a shower and brush my teeth. I am not comfortable facing anyone until I’ve done that.
  12. I can imitate the voices of almost all the Simpsons’ characters and if I hear someone say something funny on TV, I will repeat it and say it exactly as they did and with the same accent.
  13. I hate people with dirty finger nails. Get thee to hell, thy gravedigger!
  14. If I visit your house and your bathroom is dirty, I will refuse to eat or drink anything that you offer to me. Irrespctive of how hungry I am.
  15. I am always on the side of the underdog, because I like people beating the odds and do extraordinary things.

So in carrying on with tradition, I will, without shame, pass the baton to the following ppl: Omid, Kyknoord, Ekapa, Andrea and That Man. IITQ… consider yourself spared!
Don’t hate the player, hate the game!

(PS… regular posting will resume after the commercial break)

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