Stuff for the end of the year

25 12 09

1. The moral of the story is never to trust people who delay eating or do not eat at all. Why invite people over for lunch at around 12:00 with the intention of feeding them at only at 15:15, if at all? Why provide absolutely no nibbly bits before then, instead allowing people to become drunker and drunker with nothing to soak up the alcohol and its induced verbal diarrhoea? Christ almighty, what kind of freak believes drinking and eating should be an either-or situation???

 2. This is a photograph of the Christmas present given to my friend’s father, by his sister. I can’t begin to fathom why anyone would think this would be a nice gift for anyone, let alone for a highly intelligent, worldly man (who happens to love the whole of his pet cat very much)

3. The latest advertising billboard and TV advertising campaign for the 2010 Soccer World Cup is staggeringly inane. Viewers are asked to buy into the idea that after the event, at least we’ll be able to say that ‘we were there’ when it took place. Despite not liking The Beautiful Game, I am not at all negative towards next year’s soccer world cup. I hope fervently that it will be a success for our country and that in the process of making it so, people get to watch some entertaining games of soccer.

However, to suggest that it is such a defining moment in history that we should attend matches just to be able to tell our children and strangers in the line at the ATM that we were in S.A during the 2010 Soccer World Cup, is ridiculous. Unless I’m at a stadium sitting next to Julius Malema and Jimmy Manyi, who die as a result of a Cristiano Ronaldo instep kick gone awry, I can’t imagine proudly bleating “I was there!!!!”

4. Got a gorgeous pair of Havaiana slip-slops from my dear buddy at her wonderful JewTheist Eve dinner last night.


The joy of inane competitions

17 12 09

If you’re thinking about entering a pie-eating contest in the UK, you’d better be sure you’re not on any performance-enhancing drugs.

See, apparently the World Pie Eating Championships in Wigan bans competitors from using gravy as a lubricant, which has led to some competitors using cough medicine to help the pies slide down instead.

The manager of Harry’s bar, which hosts the competition, said this ‘secret weapon’ lubricates the throat. Tests have shown that the cough mixture can knock two seconds off the time it takes to eat a championship pie, according to some or other British website.

Apparently contestants are allowed water.

This year’s winner, Barry Rigby, took 43 seconds to finish his pie. He said he eats about 20 pies a week.

I’ve participated in a number of eating competitions with friends and family before, comprising the following:

-The maximum number of Marie biscuits one can eat without water

-The maximum number of marshmallows one can fit in one’s mouth

-The maximum number of Wick’s bubblegum pieces one can fit in one’s mouth

-The largest spoonful of Tobasco sauce or wasabi one can consume without crying.

The event that ended the ‘how much can you fit in your mouth’ competition was when we moved onto massive serving spoons, and my sister and ex-boyfriend managed to shove a giant trowel  in their gobs.

I knew I was beaten and therefore am now looking for another form of competition which will make me look like I have an IQ of 50.

Any suggestions?

Happy Birthday, dear person we’ve never met and who we hope will buy our product

14 12 09

The crap thing about one’s birthday is the number of automated birthday greetings one receives from organisations one has very little interaction with, and whose management wouldn’t recognise you if you ran at them with a stick.

Nothing makes me feel more like a loser than being wished happy birthday by SMS or email by my doctor, insurance brokers and complex’s property managers.

Here are two special messages I’ve received via email over the past couple of weeks, ahead of tomorrow’s marvellous day:

Exhibit A:



*Company I really have dealt with only once, about three years ago* is sending sincerest birthday wishes to *my title, first initial and surname* on 771215

On this special birthday

Many things we wish for you;
May the hours be blessed
With friendships fond and true.

May your dreams all be fulfilled;
You reach your every goal;
And at the ending of the day,
May peace touch your heart and soul.

From the * Company I really have dealt with only once, about three years ago* team.

Exhibit B:


On behalf of us all at *loyalty club for a book concern which gives you about half a cent for every R3000 spent*, we hope that you will have a great birthday celebration this week. We trust that your next year will be filled with much laughter, and plenty of good times.


*loyalty club for a book concern which gives you about half a cent for every R3000 spen*

Not even offered a voucher to buy one of their books. Hmph!

Tomorrow I must bring in a cake to work. I’m thinking Marmite-flavoured Swiss roll. Or perhaps I nice Tobasco torte.

The least desired job in Russia

08 12 09

It’s been a while since a Russian story appealed to me, and this is certainly a goodie:


Moscow’s outspoken mayor on Tuesday blamed meteorologists for failing to predict thick snowfall that paralysed the city’s road network this week.

Moscow Mayor Yury Luzhkov is extremely displeased by the work of the Metereological Centre, which couldn’t even give an accurate short-term forecast," his spokesman said Tuesday, the Interfax news agency reported.

Weather forecasts predicted one centimetre (0.4 inches) of snow on Monday evening, but in fact 12 to 15 centimetres (5-6 inches) of snow fell, the spokesman for Luzhkov, Sergei Tsoi, said.

"To err by a factor of 10 is unacceptable," he added.

The snowfall came after a month of abnormally warm temperatures in Moscow. On December 2, the day-time temperature was 8.1 degrees celsius, breaking a record of 7.1 degrees set in 1898 and preventing the brown bears in the city zoo from going into hibernation.

Scrambling to react to the sudden snowfall, the city authorities failed to clear roads promptly and traffic jams on Monday evening stretched over 900 kilometres (559 miles), traffic web sites reported.

"The city services did their job, of course, but such blunders cost a lot and can be the subject of critical analysis at the highest level," Luzhkov’s spokesman said.

In October, Luzhkov caused controversy and amusement when he suggested that planes should be used to seed snow clouds as they approached Moscow and cause the snow to fall outside the city, easing the work of city street cleaners.

I like the idea of punishing weather forecasters. I’d particularly like to punish Simon Gear, whose smarmy manner, irritatingly high-pitched voice and enormous forehead irritates me. For that matter, stock exchange traders and economists should be punished if their predictions regarding the price of gold and oil, and the value of the currency are at all inaccurate.

My proposed punishment schedule would look as follows:

First offence – public acknowledgement that his/her career is based almost entirely on guesswork

Second offence – as for first offence plus donation of section of liver destined for use by former health minister, Manto Tshabalala-Msimang.

Third offence – as for first and second offences, plus being forced to purchase and listen to “100 hours of the best of Julius Malema’s speeches – the early years”.

Fourth offence – death

For those who elect to skip the punishment for the third offence and proceed directly to death, their last meal will be a Steers toasted cheese and tomato at 23:35, with added heartburn.

Deck the halls with stumpy twigs and a couple of dead leaves

07 12 09

It seems residents of Sacriston, County Durham in merry olde England were mightily fed up with the second-rate Christmas tree their council organised for  their viewing pleasure. Thus they were given this tree (see right).

Yes, this was the replacement for the bad tree. The first tree was apparently even worse than this bush enclosed in a frame with sad little lights.

The article on explains that “… when the new tree arrived, it was barely any taller and bore a striking resemblance to the original tree”.

I feel sorry for the stumpy trees. They look very much like what I can get to survive in my pots. Where’s the generosity of spirit the season requests of the God-fearers to love every tree the same, no matter what it looks like? Aren’t mangled, snarly shrubs as worthy of hugs as their tall, slim relatives?

That is a remarkably hilarious photo, though. I’m going to show it to my rose bush as a warning of its future  if it doesn’t stop dying and start blooming.

The social event of the year, apparently

04 12 09


End-of-year party time. We’re getting gifts. First aid kits, I believe. Kinda like Orange Rottweiler’s aunt who got her entire office fire extinguishers, as well as her brother (the rottweiler’s father)… three years in a row.

People who never wear dresses are wearing dresses today. It scares me. I’m kitted out in my off the shoulder red denim jeans (see previous post’s comments)


Another lame study

02 12 09

To steal a line from one of Ricky Gervais’s characters in Extras, the authors of this study must surely have been having a laugh at the public’s expense when publishing these findings. The latest in ridiculous studies (not of the medical variety) contends that the end-of-year occasion “… is the most important event in the female social calendar, ahead of friends’ weddings, dates and New Years Eve parties.”

This is very obviously the truth. I mean, come on, it sounds right, right? There are, however, some esteemed events even higher up on the totem pole of ‘da best things ta do’ than the office Christmas bash including, but not limited to, the following:

– Cleaning out a seething pile of cat shit from a litter tray

– Giving oneself an enema

– Sniffing the sneakers of a homeless person

– Brushing one’s teeth with a toothbrush that’s fallen into a used toilet … after the user has eaten asparagus.

The study further asserts that on average, women spend 72 hours shopping for an outfit, 96 hours getting in shape, 23 hours beautifying themselves, 63 hours taking advice from friends, 48 hours shopping for accessories and 12 hours on hair styling, including cuts, dying and blow-drying.

How I know that this is not true is because no woman would have any friends left if she spent EIGHT SOLID WORKING DAYS’ worth of time asking her friend about what she should wear and how she should do her hair.

The most obvious flaws of this ‘research’ are that is assumes the following:

–  that people largely like their colleagues so much that they look forward to spending precious non-office time with them while they’re drunk and randy.

– that women prefer being with their colleagues to any other social event.

– that the women surveyed in this study have lives that involve friends and family and travel and movies and dinner and and and. They very obviously do not.

My favourite part of this article is the concluding section entitled ‘Louise Roe’s Christmas Party Style tips’. So let’s see… the aim of the office end-of-year party is to get chatted up by colleagues? Even if you happen to fancy someone at work, is showing your boobs while wearing silly hats (and a red dress, obviously) and quaffing cheap wine really going to amount to anything more than a Christmas Shag in the venue’s bathroom, if you’re lucky?

Well, it’s my office’s end-of-year lunch on Friday and I clearly have wasted precious planning time with regard to my attire. Ok, friends, do your womanly duty (and manly duty – I would never dream of excluding the men who might help me in my goal of kerfuffling in the bathroom with a colleague): should I wear jeans or … jeans? Red jeans? With red lipstick, perhaps? And lots of rouge.

Yeah, I think so!