Emergency Lane Anyone?!

Aside from feeling as though I was high?  Cracked lips tingling and all!  Day 2 went off without a hitch.  I literally floated through it.  I feel lighter already!  No, I don't.  When on diet?  Spur yourself on with lies.  It works.  I don't know whose turn it is to drive today?  Where am I?!  Oh yeah.  In the kitchen staring at two eggs boiling.  The ham and I?  Last night.  Had a staring competition too.  After I’d eaten about five slices in the kitchen?  I walked to the lounge, took my saucer of ham, set it on the table.  Walked back to the kitchen, took my saucer of ham, set it on the counter.  Walked back to the lounge, took my saucer of ham, set it on the table.  I sat down on the two-seater couch.  Turned to the saucer.  Raised my one eyebrow.  It retaliated by just lying there.  On the saucer.  Looking hammish.  There's just so much ham you can eat 'til you start feeling like a pig.  An unhappy salty pig full of ham.  I'm not tryna feel like anything other than a slender giraffe right now.  That ham had to go.  So I ate it, and when it came down to the last two slices?  I walked away.  Strutted off like the slender giraffe I aspire to be.  And now, our diet bus has turned the corner into Day 3! 

Laterrrrr that morning…..

Did you feel the suspense in that?  I was like, “Laterrrrr that morning…”  My fingers typed that in that deep, suspensy, movie voice.  What would the world be like if our fingers could talk?  Do you think they would all have the same pitch or would your baby finger have like a very squeaky child-like tone?  Annnnd, found out whose turn it was to drive.  Mine. 

I need some help.  Can someone tell me who takes an emergency lane off of a freeway to make space for a taxi/bus lane?  Before the World Cup in 2010, we had an emergency lane.  My thought on the emergency lane was that it was for emergencies.  Did you think the same thing?  So you could be confident that when your tyre rolled off or your vehicle caught on fire, you’d just veer off the fast lane and shimmy on over to the emergency lane.  Traffic would be only affected for as long as it took for you to shimmy on over.  Unless?!?!?!  Other cars caught on fire and it was your cars fault.  It would take a little longer then.  And there would be a lot of finger pointing. 

But now?  We don’t have an emergency lane.  For a bicycle?  YES!  A bicycle could fit in that little space between the yellow line and plants and barrier thing on the side of the freeway!  But ofcourse, bicycles are not allowed on the freeway.  So that’s a waste.  You’re just allowed to run across it.  And then wonder why you’re now able to see seventy metre’s down from where your starting line was and your legs are still running, on their own on the other side of the freeway.  “Because that car just came out of nowhere and I was running, across the freeway…it didn’t even stop!  It saw me.  Now I lost my socks.  ‘Cause they were on my legs.”  I’m sorry but if bicycles are not allowed to run, spin, wheel or whatever on the freeway, where the cars are free to drive without worrying about a stop street coming up or a traffic light, you should not be on the freeway trying to cross it.  That’s what they built the bridges for.  Let’s allllllll sing, “If you’re lazy and you know it, clap your hands!”  Meanwhile, where’s the laziness when you’ve lifted a big boulder, walked up the stairs of the bridge and waited.  Patiently.  Lifted it again?  And threw it over onto the car driving underneath it?  Ran back down the stairs of the bridge…and robbed the person?  Ohhhhhhhh, okay…you were feeling frisky that day, okay.  We all understand now.

I got a little carried away there, so let’s get back to the fact that if your car breaks down, you have to fix it in the lane that it broke down in!  That’s why the freeway was backed up today.  A taxi, those $#@&^ taxis!  It broke down.  So up to that point, we were short a lane.  I was singing.  I didn’t care.  My toes cared because they got numb from having to change gears from two to one, one to two, two to one for about thirty minutes!  

Normally you see the thirty passengers and three goats standing around outside the broken down taxi.  Worn and worried.  Frown lines deeper than Randyl’s door given dimple, because they’re gonna be late for work, or goat farming or something?  Some take a smoke break and rightfully so.  Others start thumbing a ride from passing cars….LOL!  Noooooh, they don’t.  And I only saw one picture a few years back where there were goats and people came out of a taxi.  Wait, I’m going to see if I can find that pic and post it….here you go....

This morning though, I think all of the passengers ran to work.  One or two may have rode the goats but there was nobody but the conductor and the driver trying to fix…something. 

Rambling On…

Okay, so, Debbie almost had a heart attack from my last post.  No, she's not invisible or a figment of my imagination.  I admit, sheepishly, that I have many of those but, no, she's not one of them.  She commented on my Facebook Rambling at Random page..."Noooooooooooooooooooo--You just need to learn to prioritise your time betta...Or make the blog a wee bit shorter,then u can focus on the book too...You CANNOT leave the blog readers in the lurch...Lol..Good luck with the book."  When someone says, N with so many o's like that?  What's a girl 'sposed to do?! 

So?  For Debbie, and my other blog readers...both real and imaginary.  My favourite imaginary reader is Ellen Degeneres, by the way.  We're mutual fans.  She waits with baited breath for my next post.  More than she looks forward to her own show!  How's thattt!  I don't have the heart to disappoint Debbie and Ellen, so I'm going to try shorter blogs and see how that works out. 

My thumbs just have soh much to type about!  ^_^!  Much atype about nothing!  I remember seeing that movie with a friend of mine when I was young.  In the olden days, HA!  Much Ado About Nothing!  They were not lying when they used the word nothing!  I blame us.  We had a choice.  But in our defence, we were trying to check whether we possessed some kind of theatrical culture but after that movie, I knew, mine hadn't developed yet.  It was still in that 2-week shrimpish looking stage.  And now, it's cold and I've run out of sweetener.  It's like de-javu!  Let me reflect for a moment on what brought about these nostalgic feelings...Ahhhhhhhhhhh yes!  I felt just like this throughout that movie!  Miserable and bitter! 

As for this Winter, damn Winter!  This one’s been like punishment for what we did in Summer!  God is like..."I know what you did last Summer...here!  Take THAT!  Crack your lips when you least expect it, you little Summer Sinner...of mine!"  That's what I love about God.  He punishes you while being affectionate.  "Of mine..."  That’s when you know you are loved unconditionally.  I was sitting and testing Damon last night and everytime I sucked my lips, there was a fiery sensation in a new spot.  I wasn't testing him outside?  In the cold, cruel elements?  We were right here on my bed.  And my bed's not outside either!  Said to myself, "Now that's what you call skilled vengeance.  The ability to cause a persons lips to crack while they're indoors, testing their son on Natural Science!  Gotta learn how to do that with the kids!"     

And whether or not you want to, you will be a passenger on my diet bus.  We have 12 days to reach our destination to the land of skin and bones!  Because I've reached Day 2?  Not only do I get to enjoy that sense of accomplishment?  I get to add wholewheat bread to my breakfast today!  Yayyyyness!  Drank so much coffee yesterday, it sent me straight into a deep two and a half hour slumber by 1.30pm!  And here I thought, I'd be hypers!  Being a teapot, my body was clearly coff-used, and terrified!  Petrified enough to scare some fat away, I hope!  At one point, I sat cuddled up against my mum on the couch thinking, "Are my ears supposed to be sore?"  A voice told me that they might be detoxing, I dunno!  And even that?  Could have just been Day 1 hallucinations.  It’s possible with all of that coffee…and boiled egg…and CHOKE…spinach.       

Rascals and Realizations

Is there something wrong with NOT trying to take what belongs to others? Is there something wrong with NOT invading the privacy of others? If some of us can do it? Why exactly can't everybody do it?!
This rant stems, not from my diet, but from the visit I just got from my neighbour who came to warn me to make sure my kids and I are careful when coming in or going out our own property because the unsavory characters are "operating" in our area! Aaaaaaaaargh!!!!! The lady next door, was woken early hours of the morning when she heard noises and when she got to the window? Two guys with cutters and a hammer were trying to cut threw her window or burglar guards and when she confronted them, they looked at her like, "fuck you gonna do?" Thankfully, there was a male in the house, whom she called and that was the only time they left!

Now my question is, who wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, "Wow! What a stunning day today is? I think I'm going to pack up my power tools and terrorize someone in their home!" I don't. Millions of people I know, don't! Well I don't actually know millions of people. Don't be technical. This is really not the time. I'm on diet, I'm scared, plus that spinach I had to eat earlier made me very angry.

So now that everyone is aware of my mental state, back to the subject at hand. I have an opinion, which IS? If you can plan CRAP like this? Why not plan to pack your credentials on a page and go out and look for a job!?!? Thing is this though, our caliber of thieves? Premium! They could get a job in no time. They're intelligent, innovative, perceptive, think out of the box, know how to operate heavy machinery or pull off heavy jobs with light machinery, can easily hack into sophisticated security, plus they have since found a better use for discarded CD's...just, brilliant beyond compare!

I've been contemplating this for a few days now but hearing what has happened just a few steps from my own front door has made me realize something. I have to cut back on my blogging. Not stop altogether, but daily blogging? Nope! You're looking at this post like, "So what you're saying is? Less blogging is gonna stop the boogiemans from coming?" No. If the police can't, less blogging won't either but this is the situation. I am a single mother with all the duties that a two-parent household has. There is never a time when I am sitting and just writing for hours on end. I write when I have a gap in my day, like when I'm on my way to work, before I leave for work, before I go to bed, at babyshowers, while I'm bathing, etc. It's what you could call, stolen time, MY stolen time. Time that I have every right to steal. From myself! Because it's mine. But I now see that it's time that I really have to make, count. If not for me, but for the two people in my life that depend on me and will always look to me to have things together and in some kind of working order.

The truth is that I've slacked off on my novel and it keeps giving me the evil eye! I like to be liked. It bothers me when ill-feelings are directed at me. And knowing that I'm not in good books with my...book? I can't take it! And when I hear things like this, it means that I've gotta make a better effort. Since I have set up my blog, my second book has started collecting dust, not more words on more pages. But because my book is not as talented as our criminals are, it hasn't yet come up with a way of writing itself. Which sucks because it would have made life a lot easier and I could have continued having the fun I've been having with my daily blogs.

But more importantly, each one of us are where we are because that's as far as our pockets will take us. That's just how it is. If I don't work harder to pave the way for a better life for my kids, nobody else will and they'll be stuck right here in this very place, at the mercy of people who place no value on anything. Be it your possessions or your life! And worse? Here? It's been made far too easy for people like that to thrive. I'm well aware that money can't buy security, but it can buy you choices. And if I've given them nothing up to now? I need to give them at least that. I'm not sitting here saying that my books will be overnight successes? Neither am I saying that they won't. But I'm holding onto the faith that they won't be written in vain and just like the lotto, you'll never win if you don't enter! I don't wanna leave them knowing that I didn't try. Afterall, I wanna enjoy heaven. I love singing and dancing so I don't wanna miss out on any of that 'cause I'm crouched in a corner, holding my cheeks and distorting my face, guilt ridden about..."I was too damn busy blogging! Now, I've left them stuck in that awful place without the choice to leave or stay!"

My blog will definitely not go a week without a post or mayyyyybe two, but I just need to invest some of that time in The Switch now. There are six months left of this year, and by December, if I'm lucky, I can have it done and then I can come back to Ramble Responsibly on a full time basis! Wish me luck...!
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Cold Case

My diet begins today. I'm sitting in bed sipping on black coffee and sweetener. That's all I can have for breakfast. Coffee! That I NEVER drink. If I appear angry or hypers or just not myself? You all know why. Myself loves chocolates and they're not part of this diet! I am therefore, a woman scorned. For the next 13 days. That's all I have to say about that!

Went to my niece's baby shower yesterday. Yeah, yeah, you can say it. People are getting married and having babies left, right and centre in my family! We should be at a head count of a thousand by now. That's what happens when your granny starts off having eleven children and blames the fact that they had no TV. Then goes on to close the justification process by saying, "We HAD to find something else to do to pass the time!" FUN FACT? You can only use that one for as long as we don't know what the word, horny, means, so...BUSTED! And I sang that word in capital letters in a high lingering tone!

By the way, has anyone seen a uterus running around? Or lying still? Somewhere? We just wanna do a quick check before we put my aunts missing one on a milk carton? Inbox me, please? And thank you, in advance for any leads you might give us.

My cousin has three breasts. Thank goodness, he's not a she! Heyyyy, I got it! Maybe the third one is my aunt uterus? Lemme jusssss....write that down. I need to remember to ask him if there's anything he'd like to get off his chest.

Thing is? She went to the hospital some weeks ago for pain in her abdomen and they did a scan. They put gel, looked, put gel, looked, put gel, looked, finished the gel, and still nothing? I'm sad to report that her uterus is officially lost. At the shower yesterday, Ali felt her arms and back and everything for any strange lumps? Not there. We even kept our eyes peeled, driving home from the shower.

She was telling us that after the search to locate it via ultrasound failed? She got all frantic, asking the nurse, "Where's my uterus? Where's my uterus?!" And she simply told her, "Look? Let's not worry about that right now. Let's rather see to what you came here for?" O_O! I was still looking at her, laughing, like this, haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahaha! And feeling cold! Thinking she was gonna say the nurse was just making a little jokey-joke to take her mind off her runaway uterus, but that was IT. That's bad. That is badddd! If anyone SHOULD give a damn about a persons missing organs? It's a nurse! Could be that she was having a bad day and was probably thinking, "Pfffffft! Last 15 minutes of this shitty shift? Plus now I gotta walk alllllll the way to the shitty storeroom for more shitty gel? You still tryna send ME on a shitty uterus hunt? Not. Gonna. Happen! Sheeeittttt! Best I can do is let you know if I happen upon it on my shitty way there and back!"

Doc eventually diagnosed Aunty with gallstones. I should have been an investigator 'cause immediately, I started coming up with theories! I'm thinking, it got tired of just sitting there, bored, and needed a change of scenery so it carefully planned its escape and that it was actually pieces of her uterus PRETENDING to be gallstones. They're pretty smart, those things! I wouldn't be shocked! I wouldn't! They are almost single-handedly responsible for the existence of both the human race and some of the animal race! The mammalistic ones.

And you're free to argue, but only if you're holding her uterus in your hand. Other than that, my theory goes. Uhmmmm-m! That's my story and I'm sticking to it. And like a good investigator should, I'm sticking to my second theory too. Unlike my aunts uterus that got unstuck from wherever it's normally stuck to and somehow, mayyyyyyyyyyybe, is disguising itself as my cousins third breast?

Quick question? Do men have breasts? Doesn't sound right to say it like that but if I just say chest, then it sounds like he has three chests! Ag, I'm just gonna go with what normally has a nipple until I'm given the correct term. I could just google it but? I don't want to. 'Cause I'm on diet! I'm not sure when last she saw it because we were still young, the first time I found out about his unique chest. So this might very well be one of those 30 year old cold case situations.

Just thinking.....my heart and stomach organs are on the opposite side of my body and I have a 34 year old lump on my forehead? Cuz has three breasts or man-chest-things or whateveryouwannacallit? Aunt's uterus performed its own rendition of Prison Break? Randyl's deeper dimple was given to her by a door? Summer was born with red streaks in her black hair? My sister transformed into public transport while she slept. Repeatedly! Wendy falls UP stairs? Repeatedly too! Sunshine only sweats on one side of his face?

Is it me or is something seeming a bit off with this picture?
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Modern Day Rodents

Ali sent me an interesting, and I don't know if you can really call this interesting. Me? I view it both as interesting and whatthefuckish. I love when things are whatthefuckish! Makes them interesting! But she sent me a page full of adverts yesterday. Real adverts for healers or something. On a real leaflet found in one of the real local newspapers. So now you know I'm keeping it real up on this blizog! HA!

I sat at my computer trying to make sense of some of them because…besides the fact that they're just. Senseless. It was tough for me to fathom that these are REAL services being offered but more importantly, that people have so little faith that they actually believe this stuff.

One of them, well alllllll of them say that you pay some person money, right? And he/she helps you with all different kindsa things. One of the things that two of these people can help you with? Issssss? Waiiiiiit for it.......................

"Hiring Rats that helps you financially." I've copied that out of there, word. For. Word. …………………………………………………………………………………………….. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………O_o………???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ………………. Rats traps and cheese? No? No more? Maybe the government has come up with a REE policy...and it's against the law to trap the little furry suckers...in your home. Like you can't kill the burglars in your home unless they kill you first. As if you invited them and then just all of a sudden became a bad host?! But anyway, yeah...remember to throw a punch ONLY once you're dead. Maybe our beloved government decided that rats would be a more useful part of society as financial advisors? Who trains them? I had to go to Damelin. And now I'm picturing a class full of rats studying finance. Calculating up a storm on their little rat calculators and writing in their little rat ledger books with their little rat pencils, so cute man, debiting the bank account and crediting the office equipment account! Maybe this man or woman gets Ratatouille to open a chef school and they get these Ratatouille graduates to set up restaurants in your yard and pay you rent?! That would be a form of financial help! I don't know? It could be any of these but I'm trying. SOHHHHHHHHH hard right now.

The other one? Ali and them always find these strange things too! From a different advert…."Vagina back to small size & dry." Uh-uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Do not veer those see-ers of yours towards me. I say again, look not to me for an explanation for I am in rightful pain. It hurts in all the wrong places just thinking about that one. And just because I try to be fair, as I still sat there staring at my screen, my entire head tilted to the left because even as I copied THAT TOO, straight off the flyer? I was trying to check whether if I change position of my head…narrow my eyes…cause them to blur a bit and look THROUGH my screen? You know how you foolish you looked when you tried to see those 3D pictures some years back? Same as that…all I was trying to do is see if it'd read differently, but no. No. Doesn't. Didn't. It still read that once you leave there, you will have a small, dry vagina and you wouldn't have to wait long to start feeling as though you're carrying around the Sahara Desert. I was left with visions of dry, barren land and sandpaper. So I say? Good luck with that!

Moving. Right. Along. To Ali's favourite. "Stop the backing dogs!" And no, I didn't misspell that. They did. Truth is? I haven't a clue if they even mispelled that or not! Even though I know my way around a keyboard a lot more than most things? I studied it for a second, just to make sure. Hmmmmmmm? The common typing errors are hitting the buttons right next to, below or above, the ones you intended typing, but there is an entire row of letters on the keyboard between "r" and "c". So? Does that mean, they meant backing? Or does it mean that they just felt like…not backspacing. Musta been a Friday. I also don't feel like doing any extra shit on a Friday. Orrrrr maybe there are dogs out there that are the ones who are having issues with this? Gimme seven fresh bones and I'll sort out your problem. You will never have to deal with.....Dogs that run backwards again or...maybe they're backing dogs for the group, The Top Dawgs? Voices have been a bit off lately, and.....Ay I'm honestly grasping at straws here! Alllllllllllllllll of this know-how, but don't know-how to check spelling before placing ads. Tsk, tsk, tsk! And you have the audacity to ask people to believe that you can do more...complicated things? Like the financial rats? How about you go out and pay someone who knows how to, "Make words spell-check themselves?"

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Seriously People?

Messages were flying around today about the Cuttings serial rapist/killer being caught? Turns out that's not true, so that sigh of relief that I, along with many others! Breathed! Was a wasted one! Thank you Tania for taking the time to call the station to verify these stories! And not only that? Someone has begun spreading broadcast messages and facebook messages about the killer being someone I grew up with? Clinton Eddie! I couldn't believe it because I don't recall him having a single cruel bone in his body! Upon digging? Directly with his family! I find that THAT too is not true! Which is just pathetic and troubling! I am seething to the point of tears with anger because human beings have lost the plot! Totally!

And all that this means is that someone's put an innocent mans life in danger and that the resident serial killer / rapist is still on the loose! Probably laughing at all of this bullshit going on! Sigh! And possibly found his window of opportunity to strike again since everybody's attention is on the wrong person! Sighhhhhhaaaaaaaaargh! And I'm sighaaarghing because this kind of behaviour is just uncalled for and for Clinton whose picture is circulating as "the killer whose been caught", its the beginning of a horrible, unnecessary nightmare which could end just as fatally as the young girls who have been raped and murdered!

People? There is a man who has our nerves on edge all week as far as being paranoid in our own homes! What is sitting around making up stories going to do? What is disrupting a serious investigation gonna do? Besides get more innocent girls and now add to that list, an innocent man, killed....obviously you don't have a daughter or a niece or a cousin to worry about!

You know what? I can't talk about this anymore because as Geese would tell you, this type of thing? Links far to close to my own very deep, dark fears and nightmarish thoughts relating to my own kids. Just like any other parent, I'm sure.

Goddddddddddddd! I mean? Talk about not knowing how to Ramble Responsibly!
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Obliviously Blind

Today is Thursday, 7 June.  Awwwww, I know.  I know!  You're so fortunate to have me around.  And me?  I'm just as fortunate that my date is displayed on my phone, enabling me to share such crucial information with you.  ‘Specially when you haven't yet hung your 2012 calendar up because you keep forgetting to bring it home from work and every morning you remind yourself to remind yourself later to take it on your way out but you keeeeeep forgetting to remember to remind yourself so it just becomes a vicious cycle of reminders that you never remember and remembering what you forgot once you get home only to find the spot you’ve reserved on your wall just for your calendar is still empty!

Shewwwwww!  That was a thumbful!  Give. My thumbs. A minute....to catch their breath!  So proud of the way they've learnt how to write and spell like this.  Annnd tell you the date!  Awwwwwww!  You gotta be mindful to always encourage your body parts when they're doing something right.  You'd be half the person you are today if it wasn't for them.  So make sure that you show them the appreciation they not only deserve, but that they've earned too!  Not to mention that they've stuck by you through thick and thin, big ups to the hips, thighs and ass for that...whoop whoop...in richness and poorness, through sinus and in health...Til death do you part.  And if you've become an organ donor like I have, that last bit then becomes literal!  And I only did that in case one of those 1 in 8000 people needed my right heart valve that actually should be my left heart valve.  It’s alright though.  Wrong sided valves and all, I’m still a well oiled machine!  Just like any normal person!  But I don't really mind, not that I'd be able to protest, but I don't really mind if they use my eyeballs too.  I have exceptional eyeballs.  They're still round and everything.  Plus I'd be able to see when I'm gone, which is rare but not impossible...if they use my eyeballs. 

I almost had a hernia believing that my eyesight had quickly become regressive over these past three weeks.  Driving after the sun had set was feeling rather prickly.  The road just looked darker than normal.  Even with street lights.  I began rationalizing it in my head about the fact that I'm not 25 anymore and that maybe my eyes were the first to find that out.  I kept reminding myself to put my night-driving glasses in my car and just like the calendar, they're yet to get there!  Mournfully, I turned my ageing eyes to the moon for guidance!  I was grieving my lost eyesight.  The moon knows my way home.  It's been following me for years now.  Just.  Could.  Not.  Accept that I was losing vision so I took it out on the on-coming vehicles by cursing at them for having their lights on.  In the dark.  That was until last Friday when Sean was like, "You know one of your headlights aren't working!"  Haaaahahahahha!  That's what I did!  I laughed.  And frowned at the same time.  I wonder how I looked, laughing and frowning?  My eyes couldn’t see me.  But I thanked him and told him how relieved I was that I wasn't going blind...every night! 

Never occurred to me, once, that my car would be the one with ageing eyes.  Who checks their lights anyway?  Dunno about you but I've never started up my car in the dark and then jumped out to inhale the beauty of its frontal view!  I just figured that cars had everlasting globes.  Hint, hint, car makers!  Everlasting globes would go a long way into helping a person not to think that they're losing their eyesight after 5pm everyday!  I should sue, someone.  For three weeks of trauma. 

I know what their argument would be though;

Defendant’s lawyer, “Are you telling me that you have never seen a vehicle with one headlight out?”

Me, “Is that a trick question?”

Defendant’s lawyer, “It’s a question that will determine whether you had a right to be traumatized when all you could have done was check that your headlights were working!”

Me, “Still sounds tricky.”

Defendant’s lawyer, “I repeat.  Are you telling me that you have never seen a vehicle with one headlight out?”

Me, “You say that like I’ve been telling you things, and I haven’t even greeted you.  Your Honour?  Badgering the traumatized sue-er?”     

Defendant’s lawyer, “Ms Kell?  Have you or have you not seen a vehicle with one headlight out?”

Me, “Like hanging out, or…?”

Defendant’s lawyer, “Out!  Not working!  Off!”

Me, “Supercalafragi….!” 

Defendant’s lawyer, “YOUR HONOUR!!!!!!!!!”

Me, “Whaaaaat?  I have nothing to say…unless my lawyer is present!”

Defendant’s lawyer, “Look, I’ve read your blog…and your lawyer is sitting right there!”

Me, “Oh!“

Defendant’s lawyer, “Have you seen a damn…sorry Your Honour…have you seen a vehicle with one headlight NOT WORKING?”

Me, “I’m not saying that I have or I haven’t, but if I did, I could have been thinking that the car was load shedding.”

Defendant’s lawyer, “Ms Kell, load shedding doesn’t apply to cars!”

Me, “Are you sure?”

Defendant’s lawyer, “Really?  Ms Kell?!”

Me, “Look, Eskom keeps saying things like the usage is too high and use lights sparingly?  So, if I did see that, it would be me thinking…”Wow, what an obedient, considerate citizen!”

Defendant’s lawyer, “It’s common sense that they mean electricity at home since vehicles don’t use electricity!”

Me, “What’s common is that these people caused me three weeks of pain…well not painnnn pain, but heartsore pain, and trauma because I thought I was going blind because they gave me a defective set of lights.  And some vehicles do use electricity…geez, where have you been?” 

Defendant’s lawyer rubs forehead, “Defective lights?  How old is your car?”

Me, “7 years?”

Defendant’s lawyer rubs forehead, “And someone told you that you wouldn’t need to replace them at some stage?”

Me, “I don’t know anyone by the name of Someone?”

Defendant’s lawyer rubs forehead, “Good Lord!?”

Me, “Awwwwwww....He’s the best!”

Defendant’s lawyer rubs forehead, “Can you just answer the question?  Pleassssssse?”

Me, “What question?”

Silence in the court as the defendant’s lawyer bursts our crying from frustration!

Myyyyyy Word!

I just saw that I have 54 pages of blog entries on my word document!  And 20,050 odd words!  Whoa-NESS!  That's like typal diarrhea!  I've become a very type-ative person these days!  Heh-heh-heh…Oxford would take me into custody and throw me into dictionary jail right now for these words but that would just be discriminative on their part.  I also want to be able to invent words.  Not because I’m a Coloured, it means you can jus….Come near me with handcuffs and I'll ask you to spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!  Thatttttt’s it.  Stopped you right in your tracks, didn’t I?  Put an abrupt end to your arresting expedition! 

If anyone should be arrested, it should be the person who came up with that word.  Not I!!!  For IIIII?   Have not set out to bamboozle my fellow lads ‘n lady’s!  My words have meanings!  They have no depth but they have meaning.  That untidy word can't even fit in the dictionary!  If they wanted to use all the alphabets they could have just come up with abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz!  The effect would be the same, wouldn't it?  Incomprehension!  Because?  What does it mean?  Doesn't mean you're super!  Or fragile!  You can’t be super and fragile at the same time.  Super is like Superman!  Superman was never fragile!  He never faced the bad guys and was like, “Look, we can fight but you didn’t have to say that I look feminine in tights!!  That shit hurt my feelings mannn!”  And I’m almost certain that it doesn’t mean expialidocious! Hold on a second…it just came to me….it means WTheeF! 

Correct me if I’m wrong but I'm yet to meet an expialidocious thing or person.  I still have time though!  I'm only 25 plus 7 x 2 years old!  Can't wait to say to someone..."Wow!  You're just such an expialidocious person!" Or "Mmmm-mm!  That was very expialidocious of you to say!"  And just to show you the fact that there would be no difference in my above-mentioned suggestion?  It would be the same as saying, "You're just such an abcdefghijk person!”  Both very clearly illuminate the WTF-ness factor, you know? 

My only hope is that someone doesn't act cute and names their baby after that word!  I, both realize and respect that we want our kids to have unique names, but come-on now, it’s not about punishing the little angels.  That would be even more tragic than the word itself!  But if you insist on going to extremes, then use my suggestion!  Least your child would know how to spell his/her name and so would the rest of the free world!  Name me that and the first thing I would learn to say is…”You know what?  Just.  Just call me…”IT” or “THE BABY”

Wait!  Wait!  I thought I’d research that word…this is what I found:

It is from the song in "Mary Poppins"(1964), suggested as "something to say when you don't know what to say."  The word is a neologism, meaning it was created (for the movie), but variations existed as early as 1949.

Root Meanings
A semi-serious analysis of each part of the word can produce the alternate definition, which roughly means - Atoning for educability through delicate beauty.

The roots of the word have been defined as follows:

·                super- "above"

·                cali- "beauty"

·                fragilistic- "delicate"

·                expiali- "to atone"

·                docious- "educable"

So?  “Atoning for educability through delicate beauty.”   O___O!!!!!!!  Really?!?!  I see you’re one of thosssssse!  Couldn’t just.  Atone.  You had to be all educability about it, huh?  And then they say…”It’s something to say when you don’t know what to say.”  At least now we know what to say when you’re on that first date and you all of a sudden find that the silence has become loud and uncomfortable!  Blurt out, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!!  And don’t forget to smile okay?  Even when the waiter comes around and you’ve unexpectedly found yourself sitting alone without enough money to pay the bill.  At least now you don’t have to be all, “The bastard!  He just left me with the bill!  I don’t know what to say!!!!!!!!!”  Now you have no excuse, because you have something to say when you don’t know what to say!  And?  Keep using that line until the evening becomes so outrageously progressive that you’ve said it to the waiter, the manager, the security, the police officer and then finally, the nurse at the psych ward…

I now depart with a measure of sadness…based on the findings of my research, it has just hit me like a ton of alphabets.  I will never ever be able to say, "Wow!  You're just such an expialidocious person!"  I would be saying, "Wow!  You're just such an to atone educable person!"  

Ay. 

Cold, Caves and Clobbers

You ever wonder what it was like to live in the era of the Cave people?  All I visualize is being clobbered over the head with a big clobbering thing and then being dragged by my hair into a dark cave.  I get an instant headache.  And then?  No jeans?!?!?  What a hollow existence that would be!  No life is completely fulfilled without denim!  If you can conquer and skin a big beast of an animal to make an off-the-shoulder man-dress, why can’t you skin…the…?  Whatyoucallitagain!?  The…the animal that gives you denim?!  Denimal!  We have one of those at the Mitchells Park Zoo!  Hehehehe…Same Zoo that my mother was poking the Crocodile with a stick to see if it was real.  Until the security got involved.  And sheeeeeeeeeeee was meant to be in charge of us all.  Sigh....    

I'm thinking about this because I'm feeling cold.  Don't you think about cave people when you're cold?  No?!  When you're wearing bellbottom jeans?  I figured at some point everybod… oh. Okay.  (shrug my shoulders) Each to his own then, I guess.  

And this is how I know that I would never have survived that era. I only wear a dress under duress really and thinking about a world where I would be forced to wear one every day come rain or shine?  I wouldn't even come out of my mother’s womb!  Every time she they would do an ultrasound, I will hold up my sign stating..."I shall swim for an eternity in the water's of my mother's belly until that dress law has been overturned!"  Not even the jaws of life would get me outa there.  Come looking for me and I will be planking up against the ceiling of her womb until they gave up their search!  She'd be pregnant for life!  Breached?!?!  Would have nothing on me!  That would be the end of our lineage right there!  I'd crawl into her back and hold her spine hostage if I had to!  Imagine if when women fell pregnant?  Their backs expanded and not their tummy's!  ROTFLMAO!  You'd see some statuses that would read...

"That awkard moment when your eyeballs are strained from trying to see your second trimester ultrasound!" 

Or

"What do you think of this gynae?  Did a scan of my baby, behind my back!  Mxm!"

Was there Winter in the Cave era?  I don’t think so. Not once have I seen a caveman in a coat and scarf!  Brrrrrrrr…but imagine if there was Winter!  O_O!  I'd be banished to a life of constantly hearing my teeth klaklaklaklakla-ering, and as punishment for using my mother’s spine as a bargaining tool?  Soon as I reached the marriage milestone, I'd have a constant headache because my cave husband would have no manners.  He didn’t even ask for me.  They just gave me to him because they were holding a grudge over that whole pregnant for life thing.  People were really petty in the cave era.  In my unborn mind, I was standing up for my rights and for a little bit of fun, thought I’d get a head-start on hide and go seek!  Everybody wants a proactive child who knows how to have fun, don’t they?  Well?  Not my cave parents.  It turned out that they would give me to my cave husband who wouldn’t know how to speak to me because he'd believe that actions spoke louder than words.  And that dragging me home until my ass was left skinless would somehow equate to “I love you, my darling wife who I didn’t even ask for!”   And I know my tenses are all over the place right now….just go with the flow.  Don’t be all English examish.  I’m just nervous in case my cave husband comes home and finds me sitting here blogging. 

In my humble cave, can I use the word, abode, to describe my cave house?  In my humble abode, there would be no, "Honey, could you brush my skins please?  Such a beautifully domesticated wife I have!"  Instead he would bring me his skins, throw them on the floor in front of me, “grunt” and all I’m thinking at that point is “Geeeez!  Were you born in a cave with all of that grunting!?”  So when I look at him hesitantly?  You know how when you stare at your husband as if you didn't quite hear him properly?  Secretly answering your own question and trying to figure out whether he said “new ring” or “chicken wing”?  All that wandering off of the mind?  Back in the cave era?  Wasn't allowed!  So, ofcourse!  

CLOBBBBER!!!  

Then once I managed to peel my head off the floor, it'd come to me, what he said, what he meant, what he wanted would come to me...as easily as the staggering migraine, "Ohhhhhh, you wanted me to brush your...?  Silly me!"  But I'd be doing all of my thinking in cave language!   In Cavelish. 

No Dogs Allowed

I've now studied Grade 6 Mathematics for the third time. In my life. Was I born to be punished by academics? Isn't it enough that history has scarred me for life by way of instant amnesia? Or that I dropped Geography for fear of being slapped for yawning? Or chewing? Two natural human reactions to boredom and having something in your mouth?

That reminds me! Yesterday, Randyls bbm status was, "sick like a dog..." When I read it, it caused me to instantly question the world around me! It was THAT deep! Someone came up with that term and I'd love to know who it was! I use it myself at times, just like the rest of humanity does in all their different languages but whose dog was just always SO damn sick that it inspired a term that has now been used, generation after generation? Barking like a dog, I totally get. 'Cause dogs bark for a living! Just like we yawn and chew and should not be fearful of pain thereafter! But? Sick like a dog? I...I struggle. My frown lines deepen. My eyes narrow while my lips become lobsided like a sick dog...! Sicko! I'm sure the owner had the nerve to nickname it that too! Herrrre Sicko Sicko Sicko! Sit, Sicko! Sick dog! I'd be sick too if I had an owner like that! A dog somewhere should come up with a term for those types of owners. Those that make them sick and them come up with everlasting terms at their expense! It would be a sweet revenge for years and years of negative publicity!

I just realized! Dogs almost always seem to stroll, sometimes, sickly, draped in underwear! Into my blog posts! I'm gonna have to work on a sign! NOT ANOTHER DOG...IS WELCOME ON MY BLOG! And yessss, YES, for those of you who don't know my dark side! BWAAAA-HA-HA! I'm a poet, and my mum didn't know it....she was mortified! Not that I kept my talent to myself, but because I didn't keep my misery to myself! I should have reminded her that misery loves company but after she scolded me like I was two? I was afraid. And married! A big married galoot afraid of her mums anger over her miserable poetry! "You better stop writing those poems!" And my ex didn't help the situation EITHER! I tried to blame him. I raised my eyebrow closest to him and flung my head discreetly in his direction. He caught me and defended himself with, "At least I inspire you!" I almost bit my tongue. Now that I think of it, I should have put salt in his morning tea the next day but my jaw was still clenched from silent rage. I knowwww, I know that that shouldn't have stopped me 'cause no-one makes tea with a loose jaw, or just a jaw...their jaw...and I'm kicking myself right now for not thinking about it then! As hard as you can kick yourself laying face down on your bed! I did that at work once! Not...lay face down on my bed but I put salt in my co-workers tea when he was in a meeting! And nope, it was no mistake! I did it on purpose! He was acting like a BOSS and I had to show him who's the tea stirrer in the office! Nothing like watching someone NOT being able to react to something when it's practically impossible not to spray the client across from you with your first big, hot, salty sip! Victory was mine as I turned and walked out of the boardroom!

My eyes are now closing and if I don't post this soon while it's still the 4th of June, Michel-le' is going to send me another threatening message! She sent me this just now..."No ways aunty u can't keep a person hanging like this, 1st u missed Sat no blog!! Now monday is almost over!! No fair! Tell us anything, even if its what u had for supper lol"

Now that's aunty-niece love right there!
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Drag Dogs and Old Queens

Annnnd I'm back! My nieces wedding yesterday prevented me from coming up on here and blogging but that's okay. I won't hold that against her! It would be rude since she fed me and clothed me. Well no she didn't actually clothe me but she did give me a reason to get a new outfit! I had absolutely NOTHING to wear. When they heard that I had a wedding to attend, all the clothes in my closet disappeared, or hid themselves, except for one set of underwear and heels. That show of loyalty brought tears to my eyes! Or was it the pain of my feet in those heels? I think they were bullied by my underwear to stay and decided to take their displeasure out on me yesterday!

Not wanting to wear the same outfit twice is not about pretending to be royalty or it simply being against the fashion law to wear what you already have. It's about the joy that buying a new outfit brings. Women are so uncomplicated. We're such simple creatures. Pieces of coloured cloth brings us joy. Geese feels the same way...almost! A piece of Coloured brings him joy too. The part I really hate about buying a new outfit though is having to pay for it. I wish they'd remove that negative part of the exchange. Imagine being able to walk into a store and when you find that one outfit that just "speaks to you"? They only speak to women, I've never heard a man talk about having a conversation with clothing! Then you could just take pick it up and take it home. Like a stray dog. Ahhhhhhhhhh...the sun shines brighter just fantasizing about that!
I don't pick up stray dogs, though. One Christmas day, my nieces and my daughter found a stray dog while we were at my grans. It looked sick and forsaken and bedraggled and was wrapped in woman's underwear. Maybe it was an male underwear model and was traumatized by having to sport granny panties. You would too if you were being forced to be a drag queen. Those kinds of decisions should be your own! So it ran. Fast. To a residential area. Where our kids could find it. On Christmas Day! Sneaky bastard! Even he knew that 'tis was the season of giving...or taking... stray-granny-panty-wearing-male-underwear-model dogs home!

And was it Christmas Day? Could have been Ma's birthday. Or Mother's Day? Forgive my lack of being able to distinguish between the three, since Ma's birthday, Mother's Day and Christmas Day look like triplets. Identical and impossible to tell apart! It's disturbing, the similarities! Small house, 6-seater lounge suite, 50 odd people trying to sit on them all at once, camera flashes, random mayhem, needing to go to the bathroom, scared to lose your seat, holding in your pee, bladder infections. The doctor knew. "So? Pain in your lower abdomen? Frequent bathroom visits? Burning sensation when you urinate? Hmmmmmmm...You guys were over at your grans this weekend, huh?! Here, take these and you should be fine 'til the next visit!" Either way, doggy spent the rest of his day surrounded by family he didn't know from a bar of blue soap and all was right with his little world again. He now lives pantyless in a mansion on Beach Road and is in full health thanks to Leigh! They should make a movie...Pretty Dog. Same story, different species! Vivian Ward's probably also living pantyless in a mansion right now. We'll have to wait for Pretty Woman: The Pantyless Afterlife, to know for sure!

MUST I really be watching the 60th Anniversary of the Queen's crowning right now? My first attempt omitted the "n"...I'd hope she hasn't been crowing for 60 years. Talk about laryngitis! Yawwwwwwwwwn! My mother always finds new and exciting ways to torture me. And I take it simply because I am a good daughter. And I'm afraid of hell. Although I feel like I'm in TV hell right now. Then she says: "Nobody's ever tried to assassinate the queen huh?" Not, "What a wonderful ceremony!" or "Doesn't she look spunky in her old age?" I mean? Is that even like a normal thought anyone should be having on the Sabbath? Watching a celebratory event? I don't even know why I'm even looking at the TV. It's just encouraging her. Now she switched the channel. People are running some race and someone's talking about not getting government funding but they're persevering nevertheless. What has that got to do with a race? I guess I'll never know since the channel's been switched A-GAINNN! Al Gore didn't even finish his sentence, the poor thing, before she switched it again! She was not receiving that Global Warming story. The queen on a boat is more important. Annnnnnnnnd there ya go? Back to the queen waving from a boat now! Somebody rescue me? Please? OMG! O_o! Now she's telling me about Kylie Minogue wanting to have a competition in honour of this event with Kate Middelton's sister Pipa for whose ass is better. I'm now going to post this and then force my eyes shut.
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Helllllllo June!

It feels as though I just posted about Friday on Wednesday and yet here it is again.  Meanwhile, I woke up convinced that it was Saturday!  Errrrrrrrrrrrrr >_< ! 

Today marks the last month of the first half of year 2012, which means that some people are almost halfway through the painful afflictions of their New Year’s Resolutions while others have just abandoned them.  Ditched them by the wayside with nary a care about how that makes a NY Resolution feel.  Exactly like a rock would if you kicked it, I'd presume.  It’s all about being sensible.  And when I say sensible, I mean, realistic.  And the keyword is try.  Never make an outright resolution to do something.  Try gives you room to fail without the guilt of simply quitting.  

Unless your New Year’s Resolution is to break your New Year’s Resolution then by all means, reach for the brightest star in the sky of improbability.  Commit yourself, to yourself and whomever else you were bold enough to tell it to without using the word try.  You might have jusssss looked up to view the pretty little yellow birdie tweeting on top of your head when they began snickering to each other about how for 2012, you shall be elected President of an unnamed, sparsely populated country which you planned to immediately name, Manna.  Unless your name is Moses and you were born in a year that has BC before it, the chances of that happening is well below never and ever.  And without a doubt not before or after the world officially ends, this year.   

And don’t look at me gasping like, “How can you say Moses was the President?”  I never said that.  I am merely asummmmmming!  Which is what you do when you're unsure.  We actually were not told who the President was so I’m free to believe what I wish until I am told otherwise.  Freedom of belief through lack of knowledge and plenty of assumption!  A rather deliciously dangerous mixture right there!  However, I do know that there was a King!  Here we have Kings annnd Presidents and an abundance of wives and offspring to match.  Kings that we never ever…okay nevermind, all that’s important is that we have Kings and Presidents here.  So I've now demonstrated, very easily, that my assumption is not impossible. 

And if he wasn’t, then he should have been.  I would wholly support a man who freed me and my people from a wicked Pharoah and then guided us through parted waters.  Can your President do that?  He won’t even have you over for tea...or me!  Not even on the sidewalk in front of the White House, or wherever our President lives this week.  Is it Soweto or Sandton?  Aldorado Park?  No?  Aahh well, long as he is in a house, that’s all that matters!

Talking about the White House…we walked for nine hours straight.  Me and Ali.  Ali and I.  Both of us.  Not even the Comrades Marathon lasts that long!  Touring The National Mall, is not for the faint at heart, lemme tell you that. You will faint and be heartsore because it’s not actually a mall.  They make it look only as big as an A3 page in the brochures.  Oooooh-wooooo believe it NOT I telya!  Plus it was hotter than hell!  No, that was Vegas.  That's why they call that Sin city.  Washington was a lot cooler, more like just blistering!  Nine hours walking a mall that has no stores in the blistering heat with jeans on?  My mouth curved downwards and that's not a good thing!  Would I do it again?  YES, I would!  Only because I love wearing jeans. 

Now in Vegas?  They had a mall that sold jeans!  With aircon.  Ohhhhh, don't be so literal!  How can jeans have aircon?  Although you'd make a killing in Vegas if you sold jeans with aircon!  And we were banished to that beautiful mall because we were afraid that we would start blistering. Reminded me so much of Washington.  DC Tourism are displeased right now with me sitting here telling you that a blister reminds me of Washington but hey?  Nobody said call it a mall.  I'm a woman scorned and those kinds of things?  I do take literally!  Don't you know the saying..."A hungry woman (led to believe that she's going to a MALL), is an angry woman."  No?  SMH, you really need to read more. 

Las Vegas though?  Who thought that the desert would be so hot in Summer.  No-one told us.  We were tourists!  We only know our weather.  Too many secrets and not enough shade.  We saw first hand that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas...I never contemplated for a second that that would include any relevant info about its weather too!  Plus we wore sweatsuits!  That was just cruel.  Did you know that they serve drinks free in the casino's if you're gambling?  Even if you pretend to be gambling!  Make sure that when you place your order, that your dollar bill is facing the slit of the slot!  I'm not a drinker on any noteworthy level.  I'm like the tittle on top of an “i” written with a stuttering pen, as far as drinking goes but I thought, “Aaargh, what the heck, I’m in Vegas, I’ll do azzzz”  Let my hair down.  It was short and didn't even touch my ears.  More importantly, I needed something to take my mind off just how my body was sweltering under my sweatsuit!  My only plan miscalculation there was that I completely missed the fact that it would send my discomfort level skyrocketing!  BUT?!?!  I was saved by good company.

And because we were on a budget, we stayed in a hotel, The Frontier Hotel and Casino, that was about to be demolished...we each said a silent prayer that the sun would set at 2pm, pleeeeeeeeease, we said, but also that everybody involved with the demolition had their dates and schedules in sync.  Since I'm not emailing these blogs from my office in heaven, they did a great job of it.  Kudos!  So in essence we were like The Last of the Mohecans: The Final Frontier! I was thrilled to see the back of Vegas though. Not because its a horrible place to visit, I just quite enjoy my eyeballs unfried.