Animals: here, there and everywhere.

Zebra and Giraffe are playing at Assembly tomorrow and if it's anything like their last show it's sure to be a cracker! Not sure about the guys playing after them, though. To me, pressing the play button on a cd player and then dancing around like monkeys with headphones on doesn't qualify as a skill. I mean, my retarded friend timmy can do that and he can't even speak! Anyway, lots of fun is on the way so I'm glad it's weekend... But if history's taught me anything it's that i'll wake up on Monday morning thinking it's Saturday and making promises to take it easy next weekend. Though I know that's not possible this time because next weekend's going to be even more hectic than this one! Oh well, perhaps some 'creative' writing will come from it. Unlike my sauna session last night...

I get into the sauna and holly bemoly it was hot in there. What's that all aboot? Now I know it's the general idea behind saunas but come on mate, surely if your ears start burning and you cant open your eyes, it's too hot? Anyway, my 20 minute brain-storm turned into 3 minutes of hell and I got the hell outta there! Well done sauna, 1-0 to you.

K I'm off to go be muppet master. Will explain that at a later stage... Though I think your imagination can paint you an accurate enough picture.

The death of new runners...

Recent (or not so recent, actually) attempts to introduce a new angle to my writing, failed. I thought, if I can make it as though it's not actually me who's writing, it would be easier to write. Reason being my anonymity no longer exists. So instead I'm resorting back to the single character and am just going to include writing about others. The single character, however, is going to be a pseudonym.

Enter Murray.

I was playing cricket a few years back and for some or other reason a guy in my team thought my name was Murray. I think my reaction resulted in everyone calling me Murray and 4 years later my own mates are introducing me as Murray. Not ideal since I actually quite like my real name and now have friends who can't believe my name's not Murray!

So from here on you'll be reading about what Murray has to say...

Starting with that little hit counter at the bottom. Either it doesn't work accuratly, or there's a really bored person out there who keeps hitting my blog. 11 100 hits in 4 months of not writing is insane! Either way I have new found inspiration to write on this here blog and will hopefully continue to do so on a regular basis.

I'm well aware that this is one of the more boring entries so I'm going to end it off by saying that I had to do this just to explain my new direction...

Peace.

The birth of new Runners.

Due to the lack of content on my site I have decided to introduce a few new runners.

Enter the worker...

The worker is the most dull and boring person on the planet. He has no life and spends his days earning a hard living and dreaming of a better life. His hobbies include: reading comic books, playing Lego, watching cartoons and visiting his friends at the red cross.

I don't know this person, he offered to carry my shopping bags the other day and after trying to talk to him I came to the conclusion that we can all learn from him. When I say learn I, obviously, mean learn how not to live...

Our second introduction goes to the Socializer...

Welcome socializer, lovely to have you on board to add a bit of spice to the race. The socializer is somewhat of an enigma. You just don't know what to expect from this fella. Well I guess you can expect the unexpected and therefor do know what to expect. This guy is a vibe. He will keep you up to date with what's going on around the place. You've all seen him before, he's everywhere, you just don't know it...

Next up it's the thinker.

This remarkable young man doesn't have an IQ. He went to MENSA to do the test and they asked him to leave because they felt threatened. Not settling for that he took the online test and soon after had an NSA helicopter blow up his house. He's smucking fart folks and will spend some time over the next while keeping you informed on anything and everything. He's currently working on a dot-com project that is sure to yield millions.

I think that'll do for now. I don't need an introduction. I'm hectic.

Stay tuned for what these competitors have to say...

5 Steaks and an Eggplant.

5 Steaks and an Eggplant? That probably means fokal (a socially accepted word) to the billions of you reading this but there's hidden meaning in there somewhere, not to worry.

I was fortunate enough to spend 3 awesome weeks with 4 top guys and 1 top girl (there you go) in Thailand over Christmas.

Now, however, I'm sitting at work.

With no top guys or girls.

Just me.

Sic.

To add to that I came back to a world where I'm in serious debt! My new-years resolution: Whatever. Deal with it. I'm going to steal some wise words from Churchill and say that this year I'm not going to float, I'm going to sail! Not sure how that applies to what I've been saying but... Whatever. The glass is half full. Actually that's a load of balderdash. The glass being half full or half empty depends on a number of things. The most obvious being whether it's being filled up or emptied out. If you not sure of which then the answer would be... 42. Why is that such a common question in interviews? Id love to walk into an interview and just take the interviewer for a ride.

Interviewer: Is the glass half full or half empty?
Me: Yes.
I: What do you mean yes? Thats not one of the options.
M: Ok. 42,then.
I: Again that's not an option. It's either half full or half empty.
M: Yes.
I: Well which is it then?
M: Fantastic.

It's such a stupid question. What's in the glass? If it's a glass of cat piss then I'd have to say it's half empty. Coca Cola on the other hand I'd like to say the glass is half full. There really aren't enough variables in the question. I reckon the correct answer could actually be undefined.
I'll run it by the brains trust/financail advisor later and keep you posted.

Return of the King

I got over writing on this blog, in case you were wondering, but now I'm over being 'over it'. So until I'm over being over being 'over it', random groupings of words shall magically appear on this screen. It won't be me writing, though. I've decided to leave my doppelganger (write that down) in charge.

Expect the unexpected.
Any 'structure' that once existed has gone out the window.
From now on it's just random.

Starting with...

My apartment smells of rich mahogany. (A word not found in the MS Word thesaurus - a tool facebook should implement for an alarmingly large number of users)

So there you have it, rusty at best but it's a start.

SABC - Full of 'ideas'.

I was flicking through the TV channels last night and what did I see? (coming fourth to carry me home....) SABC broadcasting something on three (coming fourth to carry me home... Swing low.... Sweet chariot... Coming fourth to carry me.... Home...)

Sorry about that, I got a little caught up in the moment and am just preparing myself for the upcoming cricket season. I'm sure there'll be more about that in future posts.

As I was saying, though, I was flicking through the channels and there it was... Matric revision up next after whatever rubbish was on at the time. This, on its own, is a random piece of information but coupled with the fact that the program was only finishing at midnight it may seem a little more interesting.

My question: Why the hell schedule Matric revision when all the Matrics are sleeping?

Not the best idea they've had thus far.

How the 'Mighty' must fall.

The Chuck Norris phase seems to have finally come to an end. Don't get me wrong, some of the jokes were quite amusing but it is good to see we're all moving on. What we're all moving on to troubles me a bit, though.

Vernon Koekemoer...

I'm sorry but I struggle to see the funny side of this phenomenon. I think it's quite ridiculous actually. The marketers have seriously crossed the dead-ball line on this one. In fact, they didn't cross the line because they were on the wrong side of it to start with.

When watching TV last night, a commercial break showed some new Vernon Koekemoer protection scam on your cell phone, I nearly cracked. The fact that people actually subscribe to these 'free' services by texting to the 5-digit number is bad enough. Do they not see the little block in the corner of the screen that says only 'R65 a week'? Come on kids, Eco's 101: There's no such thing as a free lunch...

More interestingly, blogger is playing mind games with me at the moment. My paragraphs keep jumping into the middle of other paragraphs. Google, this isn't funny. Cut it out. And by 'cut it out' I don't mean literally because that's what's actually happening. I mean stop cutting it out!

DSTV - Full of ideas.

Last night DSTV decided to run a few tests in the land of tv, it was quite interesting really. During House (now on in place of Boston Legal. Nothing can replace that quality show but House comes close to it) DSTV attempted to break the world record in advert breaks! Holy moses they really were pushing it last night. At one stage the ad breaks were longer than the actual show. Ridiculous. This did give me time, though, to uncover another little test DSTV were performing in tv land. MTV and VH1 became one. Two channels playing the same music with a 10 second delay. At first I thought it was a freakish coincidence but then it occurred to me that DSTV were, in fact, attempting mind control. I say attempting because it damn near worked! For 20 minutes I sat there, eyes glued to the tv, fascinated at what I was witnessing, wondering how long it would take for them to realize what was going on. Thankfully, though, I was pulled away from it all by Phillip.

Who's Phillip? Well he's the guy who installed our home security system. The same home security system that triggers its alarm whenever it feels like it. It can be 3 in the morning or during your favourite tv program and BAM. It's as though it too has a mind of its own and just likes reminding us that it, not us, is in control.

More interesting news: I'm reading a quality book at the moment. Full review in good time. It's a George Orwell book called... Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Need for speed.

Yesterday, on my way home, the guy in front of me decided to do an emergency brake test.
Post-test analysis shows that:

A. My brakes work.
B. I have the reflexes of a cat.
C. I have a short temper.
D. My right-middle finger is slightly bent.

A little further down the road I realized the reason for this little exercise. Standing on the side of the road was one times evil speed camera. No flashes went off, thankfully, but it nearly caused something far worse. The rest of the ride home was spent thinking of ways to eliminate all speed cameras. I remembered an article I read a month or two ago…

Top this for a speeding ticket.

Two British patrol officers were involved in an unusual incident, while checking for speeding motorists on the A1 Great North Road.

One of the officers used a hand-held radar device to check the speed of a vehicle approaching over the crest of a hill, and was surprised when the speed was recorded at over 300mph. The machine then stopped working and the officers were not able to reset it.

The radar had, in fact, locked on to a NATO Tornado fighter jet over the North Sea, which was engaged in a low-flying exercise over the Borders district.

Back at police headquarters the chief constable fired off a stiff complaint to the RAF Liaison office.

Back came the reply in true laconic RAF style. “Thank you for your message, which allows us to complete the file on this incident. You may be interested to know that the tactical computer in the Tornado had automatically locked on to your ‘hostile radar equipment’ and sent a jamming signal back to it. Furthermore, the Sidewinder air-to-ground missiles aboard the fully-armed aircraft had also locked on to the target. Fortunately the Dutch pilot flying the Tornado responded to the missile status alert intelligently and was able to override the automatic protection system before the missile was launched.”

I know you're all thinking 'Stupid bloody Dutch pilot. Shoot the bastards!' But that's a bit rude. Also 'laconic? What the hell does that mean?' Well the MS word thesaurus gives concise as a synonym.


Anyway I came up with something far better. I managed to get hold of Jacob and have put in an order for one times radar jamming device and one times Sidewinder ground-to-ground missile launcher. I just have to figure out a way to attach these to my car without them looking too obvious. Maybe in the sauna later I'll figure it all out. That's where all my hair-brained ideas surface. Will keep you posted.

Sic weather!

I got up this morning (as opposed to... not getting up or getting up this afternoon, perhaps), went to the toilet (as you do first thing in the morning) and found myself standing there thinking 'jeepers is it me making that noise? Aim for the side of the bowl rather, you're going to wake the neighbors'. I realized after I'd finished though that it wasn't me and that someone was standing on my roof with a hose pipe. No wait it wasn't that either. God was having one fuck off big wee outside. This is getting ridiculous now. I think the dams are full so that's enough rain for this winter. Please leave.
Everything seems to stop when the weather is like this. Even the oke who sells beads under the bridge took the day off. He hasn't done that since the arrival of his only competition - the beggar who stands 10m further down the road.


It's a bad time for rain because it also interrupted the tennis a few times yesterday. How hectic was that tennis? I can safely say that that was the best game I've ever seen, let alone the best final. Imagine being there. Sitting with 14 998 other screaming spectators and Gwen Stefani. What an awesome scene that must have been. Half shouting Roger Roger... The other half shouting Raffa Raffa... and Gwen Stefani. Just sitting there. Looking at her nails. Not clapping, not smiling, not even enjoying herself. Spoiled little girl. The camera's didn't do her any favours but come on. If you're going to go watch the final with your husband who just happens to sit in the family's box next to one of the players' girlfriend, then you should at least act like you're enjoying yourself.


And now, as I have to go play in the rain, I'll sign off.

Awkward silence.

So I'm sitting in the sauna last night after a chilled gym session, contemplating life and feeling sympathetic for turkeys on thanks giving, when in walks a fellow heat-seeker.

Me: Howsit?
FHS: Howsit.

A few moments of silence passed by until he next spoke.

FHS: Hot in here hey.
Me: I think that's the idea...

We both chuckled and looked forward once again. That was followed by silence and it became increasingly awkward to be in there. The barrier for when it becomes too late to strike up a conversation passed. I'm not sure how long that takes but there was no way either of us were going to find out. It became more a game of chicken for me wondering who would last the longest. I won, of course.


More importantly, I'm going to Thailand at the end of the year. Shame, I know.

Cripple Fight.

Jimmy and Timmy fighting over their latest discovery

Fact: Rain + Night = People driving like morons.

Is the Cape full of Jollers at the moment or are Joburg drivers really better than Cape Town drivers? All I know is that the roads in Cape Town are a nightmare in this weather! The volume on my car radio hasn't been past 15 in weeks. This seems to make trips so much longer!


Come people enough is enough now, lets work together on this.

It's not that difficult.

The roads haven't moved, it's just a little rain.


(If the picture above doesn't make sense don't worry. It's directed at the jimmy who ended my anonymity, gave me writers block and pretty much fucked up everything.)

The dreaded phone call.

I've just made that dreaded call we all fear and hate. The one that involves much preparation...

Step 1: You move your couch next to the phone (unless you have a cordless phone, in which case moving the couch would just be silly).

Step 2: You make yourself a cup of tea and maybe a sandwich.

Step 3: You cancel whatever plans you had for the next hour or two.

Step 4: You take your cup of tea, sandwich and phone to the couch and get comfortable.

Step 5: You dial 10219...


This is followed by 'breath taking' music, much waiting and, if you're really lucky, a conversation with a moron.

Take this mornings operator for example:

Call operator: Heello #genius# speaking how may I help you?
Me: Hi there I want to report a faulty ADSL line.
C O: OK. One moment please. (a minute later) OK what is your telephone number.
Me: #1 800 3825 3223# (that might spell something rude)
C O: OK. One moment please. (at least 3 minutes later). Yes your line is faulty.
Me: Really? Oh I thought it was working fine.
C O: No it is coming up on my computer as faulty.
Me: Ok. Can you fix it?
C O: No. I have to pass it on to our technical support.
Me: Ok. Do that then.
C O: OK. Anything else I can help you with?
Me: No no. Just the faulty line for now, thanks.
C O: OK. Have a good day.

This was followed by more waiting, though not as long this time, and a conversation that was far less entertaining. Bottom line is the guys that telkom outsource all their problems to are on the case and my line should be up and running sometime in August. Cool. If you're wondering how I'm writing this now then wonder no more. It's called 3G HSDPA...

Our boy trying to concentrate in the midst of all the chaos.

Morning after mumbles.

This morning I was woken by the voices in my head when they decided to have a go at each other.

Voice of reason: Yup. That's what you get for drinking so much last night.

Satan: Shh. I'm sleeping.

V o r: Well you better wake up because the doorbell's ringing. I think the maid forgot how to open the gate.

S: For fuck sakes princess. It's the GREEN button!

V o r: Yes that's it. Screaming makes the headache go away.

S: Whatever. Last night was a blast. Don't act like you didn't enjoy it.

This conversation went on for a while until finally Satan agreed to leave. No doubt he'll be back on the weekend though.

My usual morning after routine followed which went a little something like this:

Step 1: Check phone for clues as to what transpired last night. Check also victims of drunk calling/texting.

Apparently I phoned someone I met on the weekend. She didn't answer. Thank Christ. Though she wouldn't would she because a: it was 3 in the morning and b: she didn't answer the first time I called and still hasn't replied. Not sure why she gave me her number.

Step 2: Get up and stroll into the kitchen to rehydrate (Big word, I know). Check also the rubbish bin to see what I bought to eat on my way home.

I found a Barcello's box. Thanks guys, I'm sure it was good. Also an empty packet of chips. Hmm. That's interesting.

Step 3: Go outside and check car. Make sure that a: it's there, and b: it's in one piece.

Well it was there and in one piece but on closer inspection it appeared to have had some interior redecoration. Cheesey poofs everywhere! Note to self: never buy Cheesey poofs for the ride home. They're a nightmare to clean and messing is inevitable (Another big word. Hectic, I know).

Step 4: Make a few phone calls to make sure I still have friends and that they're still talking to me.

It would appear that I was relatively well behaved last night...

Step 5: Find food and drink and go max out in front of the TV for a good hour or two.

Nothing better than watching TV the morning after. Things are so much funnier. Even Casino Royale struck the funny bone.

Classic line of the day comes from the scene when Bond, James Bond, meets Vesper on the train... "How was the lamb sir?". "Skewered. One sympathizes".

Just brilliant.

Till next time...

Word association.

Exams - Done.

Holiday - Welcome.

Drinks - Umm... Ya.


That's all. Just thought I'd share that with you. I'm sure tomorrow will bring with it a few stories.