It's really puzzling to me how some members of the public can spend their days, their entire day, sitting at a vida. (especially the Kloof street one) There must be some sort of underground thing going on. Possible members of this 'secret society' are:
The giant-beaded-necklaces man. He looks a bit like a fat John Malkovich, he is always wearing a 'fabulous' new necklace, (that looks like something a 5 year old made) and when accompanied by someone, always seems to be in the middle of a 'fabulous' 'convo'. How fabulous can life possibly be? If all you do is sit at vida all day? What interesting shenanigans can possibly occur every 15 min?
Dragon-power-fanny-pack-slayer. Ok, so he runs a gym and is a fighting champion. But when does he find the time? He's always at vida?? Also, how does he freakin sleep? (first asian vampire?) I wouldn't want to find out what is in his fanny-pack (apparently a gun or something - ooooh) after a couple double espresso's. Should someone consuming so much coffee be allowed to have a weapon?
Not-funny-comedian man: So he has a nice car and a couple cool tats. But he has way too much time on his hands and caffeine in his urine.
OK. So maybe I'm jealous? I'd like to be able to just sip vida, have a fannypack, get a couple tats, and have fabulous conversations all day.
Puzzling that all these men are super hot. In their own way. It's a diverse and complex world out there.
I will spend the public holiday conceptualizing for my blog. (I've actually had to work the past few days, but have missed my blog dearly. I know - it's ridiculous. The concept of working instead of blogging I mean)
I shall end with an Eddie Izzard quote: Cake or death?
In fact, I'm kind of proud to lay claim to this cherished past time.
So Yes : I'm a puker.
I'm also in advertising, and these 2 things go hand in hand. There's way too much free booze on week nights for me to get away with it any other way. Several jaggies and a couple finger snacks later, I was feeling a tad under the weather last night. Was I afraid for my presentation the next day? Did I fear the inevitable hanging-like-dog scenario? No! Why? The trusted tactical puke was there for me. And today, I feel fine! (Also an THE Engen spinach and feta pie is a winner.)
(No I'm not drunk. Drunk blogging is a bit like drunk-dialing - except with more witnesses. Not a good idea.)
A junior art director just got a design accepted onto threadless.com (globally-considered-cool, tshirt design website, flippin big deal) He needs people to go on and vote for his tshirt. So that they will print it and he can win big bucks. Have a heart, juniors earn f*&k all. And if you are reading this - you ain't that busy anyway.
A sad and sudden event happened yesterday afternoon. Mushroom the Manatee left the building.
Explanation: One morning, not long ago. In a tall red building, not far from here, there was a boy called Jon. But he wasn't happy. He didn't want to be a man anymore, he wanted to be a Manatee. He wanted to play, swim, laugh, tickle, cuddle other manatees. We said, "...well how about we just call you mushroom for awhile instead?" "No" he said "I must be a manatee to feel free and happy" (Much like a transvestite or something, would say) "Oh ok" we all said. And so it came to be that we worked, lived and played with Mushroom the Manatee for around a year and a half. It was beautiful. Just like something on Animal planet. (story copyrighted - soon to be a major motion picture.)
Special times. Special People.
Song for Manatee : Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah! O-oo, yeah! All right! Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Over the weekend there was a lot of 'nemesis' discussion.
Any self respecting/relevant human should have one. Or 2 - plural, nemeses. Or nemesi, also plural. There were strong feelings about whether or not a nemesis had to be of the same sex / in the same field / within comparative distance etc. Of course they do. I mean you can't have a nemesis who is a petrol attendant if you are pig farmer. I mean, wheres the competition? Could also just get nasty. Thinking explosions, and scene from Zoolander.
A good nemesis is probably really good for your health, unless you happen to be an assassin, with an assassin nemesis for a nemesis. Or if you were a terrorist, with a terrorist nemesis. (Wondering if my blog will be picked up by the CIA, or MI5 because I mentioned terrorists. Terrorists.) (Such a rebel)(MI5 agents - totally sexy. Terrorist.)
Go forth, and find thee a nemesis. Dual. Or become the Queen of Eastgate Mall, and get your boyfriend to kill him/her for you. Strangely enough, nemesis, the word, is from the Greek word, retribution. Greek. mmmm.
Wikipedia Def = Nemesis is now often used as a term to describe one's worst enemy, normally someone or something that is the exact opposite of oneself but is also somehow similar.
It's like a parallel universe in there. There are numerous things to say on this topic, so this might be the first of many 'observations'
Scenario - I'm putting on mascara at the basin, really pleased with myself that I manage to get to gym this morning, when this old (38+) chick strides up to the hand dryer, flips her hair over like a flash-dance move, opens her legs, bends forward like a freakin giraffe at a watering hole and starts to blow dry her hair.(with a hand dryer) Worse, she starts humming some shit song or other. Really appalling. Women - I don't want to meet your maker at 7:30am. (next time I'll take a pic. Hopefully no children read my blog.)
G-string chicks - Yes, you have no cellulite. (only a matter of time) And your ass looks like a Mcdonalds burger, but it's just unnecessary to parade around, do your make-up, call your mother, ask for my deo, do a cheer, in your g-string.(that's it). It's awkward, and just plain show-offy.
Also sucks bumping into people, you kinda sorta know. Scenario - Hi 'boobs' how 'boobs' are 'boobs' you 'boobs' doing 'boobs' ?
I look forward to soapie time. 6pm or 8am. Brilliant. (Research has shown that there is less brain activity whilst watching soapies than when you are a sleep.) Love it how everybody knows who Ridge, Brooke and Thorne are, but would never admit to watching the Bold and the Beautiful. (haha - had to bold that - art director joke)
Photogenic people - love them and hate them. Love them at weddings, in thunda.com pics (as long as you look cool too) on drivers licenses. Hate them at weddings, in thunda.com pics (if you look shit) on drivers licenses. It is impossible to take a bad pic of Wayne (above). I've tried.
Cupcakes are always lovable. (Lazari's ones are the best. Thats white choc icing, i kid you not.)
There's nothing worse that a faker. I mean, hot dogs, burgers, cheese, croissants, they aren't trying to bullshit you. They're like - "Eat me and you'll be fat, but it'll be gooooood" They're straight up - down the line - Fair enough.
Then you get devil food. Food that you think is not going to contribute to your 'situation', but does. Cleverly/meanly disguised as a "fruit" or "seed".
Scenario: You go out for lunch. You think "I'm gonna be healthy today, not gonna go crazy. Think I'll have a wheat-free, egg-free, sugar-free, taste-free, date bar from Crush with my coffee. What harm could it do??" or "hmmmm, I'm still a little munchy, I'll take some yummy healthy sunflower seeds (from Crush) to work to snack on."
Meanwhile, back at the Fat Ranch: Sunflower seeds - hahaha! Might as well have a tub of margarine! Dates - hahahaha! Might as well have a chocolate! Crush - more like crush my freakin self-esteem, like Crush all hopes of thinness!
Nutritional Info to back up ranting: 100g of dates = 1180kj / 280cal 100g sunflower seeds = 2390kj / 570cal
Drives me flippin crazy. Why does everything have to be so difficult? Why can't everyone just chill out and stop spasing over the small stuff. People/clients/advertising admin/traffic department people, are really missing the big picture. Breathe. Zanzibar.
Recently, some mates and I frequented a local Neighbourhood bar. What would have been just another drunken/tactical puking spree turned into an all night extravaganza - thanks to one word - FOXY. After a couple/bottle of wine each, someone muttered the word, to some unsuspecting boy at the bar - "hey - you're a fox!" followed by a confused/pleased look from said boy. Simple, easily executed, very effective. It was like the pied-piper, every bar rat was following in our FOXY wake.
Above is a guide to help confused/slow people, as to what is & is not FOXY.
Also the dreaded "You're FOXY - - - NOT!" can be whipped out on special occasions or for especially arrogant boy types.
Go forth and spread the FOXINESS - your life will never be the same. Guaranteed.
(report back below - FOXY tales would be appreciated)
Yes, granted, some things are occasionally amazing. But how are you supposed to know the difference? When it seems everything people bloody touch these days is 'amazing'. How can yoghurt and muesli be amazing? Everyday? (long contemplative pause) I mean come on!
Definition of amazing is: to overwhelm, surprise, sudden wonder, astonish greatly. If a freakin yoghurt does that to you, well then you haven't lived. So what do you say when you really do think something is amazing? 'Oh how lovely' - because amazing has been taken by phonies and Americans the world over. Using amazing is also just plain lazy. It kinda, sorta applies to everything.
Thought process: "oh hell, I'm not gonna spend the energy trying to think of an appropriate word, I'll just use amazing again and freak out all the people I talk to all day long"
So lets wip out some oldies occasionally, mmmm? Like fabulous, spectacular, or even 'my yoghurt is nice' - that would be heaven.