What it means to be Swedish

30 11 09

This Swedish Member of Parliament’s pronouncements on Sweden’s freedom of speech had me guffawing at my computer screen:

Sofia Bothorp, a member of Sweden’s Green Party, has scandalized the nation in the name of freedom of speech. While attending a meeting on what it means to be Swedish, the politician declared that Swedishness includes being able to “lick pussy in the morning and suck cock in the evening if you want to.” She further noted that the tradition of freedom of expression in the Scandinavian country allows her to make jokes about both God’s “impotence” and Allah’s “little dick.”

I’ll say one thing – Parliamentary sessions have never been as interesting in Sweden as they are now.

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Happy Anniversary, Email

27 11 09

Today’s the 38th anniversary of the first email ever sent. American scientist Ray Tomlinson apparently kicked of the electronic mail phenomenon by being the first person to send an email from one computer to another.

Thirty-eight years ago.

That astonishes me because the first time I heard about email was, I think, was in 1994, and I only ended up sending an email in 1995 – almost a quarter of a century after it was first conceived. My first email, I believe, was to my friend Wayne who’d emigrated to Australia about a year before, and this sadly ended the handwritten correspondence we had had going.

In commemoration of the date, the Dutch have been encouraged too give up email for 24 hours today, “in a bid to improve efficiency and foster greater personal contact with co-workers”. This is according to Belgian 42-year old Gunnar Michchielsen who contends that email mail disturbs efficiency and disturbs personal contact between colleagues.

Gunner obviously doesn’t know my office, where personal contact between colleagues largely is disturbed in nature, and that the existence of email is what gets me through my work day in tact and leaves me, arguably, no less sane than the previous day.

Without email, I’d be left little choice regarding whether or not to engage with my colleagues’ sarcastic jabs at one another, and with their moments of insanity, inanity and absurdity.

Without email, my friends would not be able to hear about the latest shit going down in my workplace and not be able to reassure me within minutes that it’s them, not me, even when it *is* me.

Without email, I wouldn’t be able to be ridiculously amused by comments attributed to pictures of cats.

Yes, tone is problematic at times in email and meaning is sometimes lost through this medium of communication, but I do not believe for a second that not having email would improve my relationships with my colleagues. So VIVA EMAIL, hail to thee Send/Receive button, you complete me.


I owe, I owe

25 11 09

Just as well I didn’t rush out and spend the R48.00  I was led to believe I was owed by the S.A. Revenue Service on Friday. This was after using its tax calculator to establish what I owed on my tax, or what was owed to me, when I submitted my tax return.

Having determined that I was owed the princely sum of 4800 South African cents by SARS, I brazenly declared “I’m rich! Drinks on me!”, despite being at my mother’s home at the time where the drinks, therefore, are obviously on her.

Imagine my dismay today when SARS informed me that I, in fact, *owe* R49.77.

The horror.

I’m thinking about taking a second job to cover this exorbitant amount I owe. Thus far I’ve selected five possible positions:

1) Seeker and capturer of garden snails.

2) Door-buzzer presser at a spaza shop.

3) Superglue vendor at the corner of Jan Smuts and Conrad drive.

4) Selector of music for hotel lifts

5) Roller-skating waitron

I gots me some options.


Hell, cont.

24 11 09

This weekend was the wedding of the individual at the centre of this post.

And so, in 10 points or fewer, the wedding:

  1. Standing around after the ceremony, prior to the reception, is awkward and painful if one does not have a date to talk to and the bride’s friends are not overly welcoming.
  2. Being put at a table where you know no-one, despite knowing at least five or six of the bride’s friends, would be hurtful if you give a crap.
  3. People who actively play to stereotype are boring and mildly offensive. Case in point: the two flatmates sitting next to me who believed they *were* Will & Grace.
  4. Electing to run a wedding reception as though it’s the 1950s, in which all speakers are male, is offensive. Not only is there never – ever –  a need for the father of the bride, the uncle of the groom, the best man, the master of ceremonies and the groom to speak, it leaves one wondering where the hell any woman fits into the scenario. Where are the women?
  5. When the M.C has to ask people to laugh at his jokes, it’s time to try something different.
  6. Announcing the couple as “Mr and Mrs **insert only the groom’s first and last names**”, without a shred of irony, is sadly pathetic.
  7. Leaving as soon as dancing begins is the only way to salvage dignity at a dinner-dance affair.

Next time I’ll be busy washing my sister’s hair.


The lesser known method of birth control

20 11 09

A thought to take with you during your exciting weekends:

A  sex survey in the U.K has found that more than one in 10 people do not realise that a woman can get pregnant if she has sex standing up.

Bugger the Pill, condoms, IUD etc … these brainiacs have gravity on their side. Sadly, they are most likely to breed and breed and breed some more.

Bon weekend!!!

 

 


Iced WHAT biscuit?

19 11 09

I am sure most  South Africans who were kids in  the 80s would immediately recognise Iced Zoo  Biscuits (unless their parents insisted that they  consume no refined sugar and gave them  carrots instead).

As I began eating my way through a packet of  them last night, it became more and more  difficult to accurately identify the ‘animal’ iced  onto the surfact of the biscuit, and less and less  likely that they were, in fact, animals.

See, for example, exhibit A to the left.

Have you studied it?

Good.

Now what the hell is it?

Blobby the blob-like…whale? swan? Macaque monkey?

Did the machine responsible for squishing the icing through an undefined animal-shaped mold go haywire?

Best suggestion wins this biscuit – I’ll post it to you before it goes off or I eat it.


Baaad jokes

18 11 09

A lovely person I know is feeling down today, and because I know how much he loves [or hates? can’t quite remember;-)]lame jokes, I’ve included a few here:

A duck walks into a pharmacy and says, “Give me some chapstick and put it on my bill.”

(Actually, I know the above is one Blue Dachshund will like)

Q: What do you call a pig with three eyes?

A: a piiig

Did you hear that a boat carrying red paint and a boat carrying blue paint crashed into each other? Apparently the crew were marooned.

A policeman stopped a man who was walking along with an alligator and ordered him to take it to the zoo at once. The next day the policeman saw the same man with the same alligator.

“I thought I told you to take that to the zoo,” he said.

“I did,” said the man, “and now I’m taking him to the movies .”

Yesterday after work I ran into a colleague as I was walking out of a liquor shop with two bottles of wine tucked under my arms. I fear I looked completely disheveled as I made a joke about just stocking up for my nightly binge. She didn’t laugh, I don’t think.

In other news, some of the fecking dickheads at my  company have decided to place the hard canopy that belongs on the company’s delivery vehicle in one of the very few undercover parking spaces we have at our disposal. Upon spotting this morning that the last open space was occupied by the bloody canopy, I decided to park there anyway, leaving the entire front portion of my car sticking out. I’ve been told now that the offending bit of bakkie has been removed, and that I can now move my car further back in the parking space, thereby allowing others to be able to leave.

oh dear, I can’t seem to find my car keys.

Bother.