Signalling Intention

Those who drive in this country must notice one glaring error in the ways the driving instructor instructs their students! That is the method of signalling! Or perhaps those cheap Protons or expired Datsuns do not have any indicator levers. That is why some books still show the diagram of you signalling with your arm. How charmingly archaic!

Just earlier, one bedazzled person indicated left and entered right. That was after meandering on a straight road. Or perhaps he had someone or something grabbing his bejeebies and they were being pulled off. The horror of it!

Or perhaps people in this city has the aversion of signalling where they are going. They, perhaps, expect everybody to possess mindreading abilities like Professor X. Well dears, if I do have that ability, I will not want to read their minds. Imagine the amount of moronism that one would have to contend with. Remember what happened to Prof X in the first X-Men? Exactly!

Bossy Hell

Well, our story begins with the "humble" person who got a job as a top manager in a chic, ball busting company. In the beginning all was hunky dory. Before long, she mutated into a serpentine creature complete with flat head, flat face and flat breasts! Her tongue forked and she gnashes her pearly whites with relish. Oh yes, she grew an extra limb in the guise of a snivelling yoakle tightly attached by his nose to her bumhole.

How power corrupts...

Case no. 2: Take the head waitress that became the manager. She reigned hell in her department. Her hair piled up into a bun that towered above the clouds and a spare tyre around her waist the same size as her boobs. Yes everybody, Queen Hell resembles the Michelin Man. Complete with breasts. Her ability? To automatically lower the morale of her staff just by being present.

And what about the "simple" man that became the Director? His ego grew as his hair did and soon no cap, hat or building could contain it. The ego I mean. Could it be the witch behind him prodding his prostate forward or just the lure of more cash and power. He screams for attention and lashes out where he wants while sitting on his leather throne.

Power corrupts and turn some people into creatures that should be thrown deep into some dungeon and have the key destroyed... Become the Boss and you can make anybody's life hell. But don't forget: the path is narrow and the slightest wrong step will plunge you down into some abyss lined with sharp spikes and shards of broken curses...

The Case Of Missing

As I pulled on my new sexy t-shirt, I suddenly got thinking...

Really strange how humans are. Give them something and it's never enough. Take for example shopping. How many times have people lusted for the new It bag even though their budget allows only potato crisps and sand for breakfast, lunch and dinner in the next three weeks. No matter that we are dying of starvation, just give us the new handbag. Perhaps the starvation was intentional.

Anyway, enough digression. What the topic is about is missing what we don't have. The ex-husband, ex-boyfriend, ex-wife, ex-lover, ex-cat... The list goes on and on...

Have it, we take it for granted. Not have it and we whinge and howl like a banshee on speed. The reason is we are never thankful or happy with what we have. Those extension freaks, the emasculated men, the freakazoids... Us, me... All have the same thing in common. Just can't appreciate what we have.

Just the other day, I was panting after minor exertion - the reason was an onset of a cold. Yes, health. You have it and you don't think about it like peeing without excruciating pain and blood spurting as a kidney stone tries to find its way out. Or like not missing water until the champagne you were guzzling suddenly made projectile vomitting a sport and your body a desert of dehydration...

Have it, appreciate it; admire it and love it. You might just miss that earlobe you think was too big when it drops off one day.

Now that I rant and rave, I think I shall go online and get some new tops...

Friday Night Blues

Once upon a time, there was a little boy called J. He would travel the world and the seven seas looking for fun. Some would use him, while others abuse him. He would wallow in misery and sorrow but always thought to himself that sweet dreams are made from these experiences. One day his prince will come and sweep him off his feet and they would ride off into the sunset in the prince's Ferrari.

That was twenty years ago and now the little boy is not so little. Yet he still behaves like his shoe size and cycle through use and abuse, Touch n Go etc etc. You know how it goes...

Alienating friends one by one became his professional job. Soon his castle crumbled and he moved from a cardboard box to another. Both physically and mentally... Yet he presevered to look for that elusive thing called love...

If Mother Goose had his way - yes, Mother Goose has to be gay - then J would live happily ever after. But the world is a cruel place and you turn into a bitch. Or else you become the victim of some sad mascara streaked soap opera which in the end devours your soul as well as your wallet.

So J prowled the bars and the clubs on a weekend marathon which starts on a Friday night. Many have observed and noted how sad life is when you are in those shoes that J wears. Well, expired Bata shoes the wrong side of chic IS bad...

Well, so what of J? He still prowls the streets along with the sad desperados looking for L-O-V-E. For now he still have his youthful looks. But how will he compete with those younger, tighter 20-somethings or those ladened-walleted-Botox enhanced hotties? Not much. Especially when all he wants are Ebony Gods with a million and one requirements to fulfil.

The only thing that will happen tonight: sex, sex and maybe no sex. It is a cruel motherf*&%ing world after all. And there are more Js out there than we really know about...

Land Of The Emasculated Men

Somehow, somewhere along the way, men have lost their way. And in the process of losing their way, they lost their gonads as well. Well, it’s so rampant how they do things and not able to deal with the consequences. Oh, yes, what about the way they suddenly pretend that nothing has happened or thinking five million years about buying the new vacuum cleaner or not. Jeeez..!

Take Marlina for example. Stupid girl that she is, started going out with another woman’s man. And what blissful life they had until he suddenly can’t cope any longer and cut her off her oxygen so she slowly dies of suffocation not knowing what is happening. Ok, so he suddenly came to his senses and want to do the right thing. Is the right thing means stringing her along like a puppy stuck to a leash?

No, people! It’s because he had no balls to come outright to the girl and dump her. Yes it may be painful but give her more credit than that! She’ll cope. She’s young, pretty and rich. So go back to your pimply other half and let Marlina get over you and get a better man. If they exist, of course…

And the gay men are the same too.

Look at the case of Paul. Professional philanderer and liar. When he was spurned, to cover his skinny non-existent arse and pass the shame, he bitched and back-stabbed his naïve lover. And what about Jamal – or James as he likes to be known. Acts like a nice guy; says he’s a nice guy; acts all responsible when his gonads had gone out the window with his brains – despite being in the medical profession. “There’s nothing wrong with us”, he said to his about to be dumped lover about his “steady relationship”. Yeah right! That’s why you spent those nights in another person’s home and have your dick in their mouth half of the time?

The exploits these people are of epic proportions. Maybe one day their physical balls will drop off just as their metaphorical ones have…

Vision O' Death

As many of you are aware, there had been an amazingly drastic number of people having delusional episodes. These so called A-listers have probably lost something like 1 kilo and multiplied it by ten at each conversation they have. Why, some even claim that they are on a 500-calorie-a-day diet. What are you? A famine stricken sicko in desperation for attention???

Okay, let's look at scientific proof: at a certain level of caloric intake, the body actually switches to famine mode: low metabolic rate, fat storage etc. Our temples want to keep fat for future use. It will start to devour muscles to sustain survival. And in these people's cases, their brain matter as well.

Back to our story: this so called slim socialite decides to don a backless dress. Someone should arrest her! The mental scars she left some people with are astounding! Her “svelte” figure proudly exhibited Swiss rolls on each side of her waist. Yes darling, you are SO slim, you make Roseanne Barr look anorexic. Try harder. Maybe next time you'll succeed.

Oh yes, the same socialite was seen prancing around in a fantabulous dress in a glam avenue of a mall the other day! Again I implore someone in authority! Arrest her! She’s got crimes against those designers! Not to mention GBH to those poor clothes. Hey! It's clothes abuse and in some countries it is punishable by death!!!!

Thought of the day: Modern medicine is great! But I think some stupid doctor has altered the Prozac dosage for the deluded socialite and made them feel too good about themselves.

Friendly Complaint

So the phone rings. Oops! It was on silent and the call was missed. Well, it's not a perfect world and so sorry that your shallow excuse for a phone call cannot be entertained. The rest of the world has a life to get on with.

Just because you forgot what size of g-string that would not chafe your cellulite challenged butt, then you drop us mere mortals a line? Or to find if that chicken-neck exposing plunging dress is available in any other colour than the puke vomit green print of some leprechaun nightmare? Hello, who picked up your sorry ass when your husband decided to have a woo-woo-ha-ha orgy with the umpteenth teenage jailbait slut that caught his fancy?

HELLO!!! We are not interested!

So when you receive a call from some "friend" that somehow remembered you because their spouse has flown back to some god-forsaken sorry arsed town in somewhere not remotely interesting or that "pal" who suddenly dialed your number because husband #561 has gone back to the lap of his dragon wife; let the call go unanswered.

Don't answer their text either. It's not being bitter or bitchy: it's you standing up for yourself to that poor excuse of a pathetic human being who had ingratiated themselves to your life and subsequently relegated you to some distant galaxy when they have something else to occupy their mouth, tongue and hands.

Unless you have suddenly found yourself marooned on some desert island and being repeatedly raped by a 600-pound native while simultaneously being force fed faeces enriched marijuana broth and making shadow animals with your hands, WE ARE NOT INTERESTED!

Tell them to get themselves a shrink. This shop is closed for refurbishment. No one by the title of "friend-in-need" is welcomed when we reopen. So when they quote that to you, tell them: "Some friends in need are full of shit". And if they try to pawn off some freebie vacuum cleaner, you know where to tell them to stick it up to. Or just don't bother and save some sms money...