Monday, June 30, 2008

A Good Way to Start the Week...

My neighbour found out her dog could hardly hear so she took it to the veterinarian. He found that the problem was hair in its ears.

He cleaned both ears and the dog could hear fine.

The vet then proceeded to tell the lady that if she wanted to keep this from recurring she should go to the store and get some "Nair" hair remover and rub it in the dog's ears once a month.

The lady goes to the pharmacy and gets some "Nair" hair remover.

At the register the chemist tells her, "If you're going to use this under your arms don't use deodorant for a few days."

The lady says: "I'm not using it under my arms."

The chemist says: "If you're using it on your legs don't shave for a couple of days."

The lady says: "I'm not using it on my legs either; and if you must know, I'm using it on my schnauzer."

The chemist says: "Stay off your bicycle for a week."

Monday, June 23, 2008

The Past Weekend...

saw me alone again, with Steph being back in Cape Town.

On Friday afternoon, I had drinks with my best non-fishing drinking buddy (I had to clarify that, or the Kosi Fishing Team would gut me). It's always good to get together with "P", as we share more in common than just a penchant for good beer and whisky. We also share views on a lot of things, enjoy the same types of music, and just generally enjoy talking kak.

When I got home, I was at a loss for what I was going to do for the evening so I jumped onto the WWW and looked up the Blues Room, a music bar in Sandton, to see who was playing that night. It turned out to be a local duet, Harris Tweed, whose young singer has a great voice and is multi-talented, playing electric piano and guitar.

I arrived at the door a little before 19h30, official opening time and took a walk around some of the shop windows in the mall. When the doors opened, I was second in the door and was a little unnerved by the big, black, bouncer seated in the entrance. What made it worse was that his left hand was wrapped in a plaster cast. Jokingly, I asked him, "So what does the other guy look like?" and in return he said to me "It's a long story", so I left it at that and made my way downstairs to my table.

I ordered my first Capn's Organ of the night (not the first of the day, as I'd had a couple earlier with P) and looked through the menu, settling on a seafood paella which turned out to be rather dry and disappointing, and full of pieces of bay leaves.

After the meal, I paid my bill and headed for the bar, hoping to get a good view of the band. As it happens, Cherilyn (lead singer) came and stood right in front of me, chatting to some bald dude who gave her a couple of CDs with song names written on the covers. The young lady is very petite, has a rather irritating giggle for a laugh, but makes up for it with her music.

Before Harris Tweed came on stage, there was a solo guitarist, Jonathan Taylor, who did a few of his own songs to try and warm up the audience. When he came off stage, he was walking through the bar and crowd, peddling his CD, but I didn't buy a copy. I did, however, compliment him on his guitar work and the first song he performed, but the rest of his songs were a bit depressing, akin to a male Alannis Morissette, all about breaking up with a girlfriend.

Harris performed for a about an hour and were given two standing ovations and returned with two encores, much to the delight of the crowd. Darryl, co-band member on bass guitar and organ, had about as much character as the floor he was standing on and didn't do much the entire evening except for smile at Cherilyn. She, on the other hand, struck up a great rapport with the crowd and had some of them giggling along with her at her own couple of mistakes.

Almost as soon as they walked off stage, I walked out the door and headed for my car, having had a very pleasant evening.

Saturday was spent watching a number of rugby matches on the goggle-box, including the rather disappointing SA vs Italy match. I reckon, after that performance, the All Blacks are going to annihilate SA in the upcoming Tri-Nations, and the Aussies will probably give us a going-over too. SA were really not convincing in their play, never getting the ball wide enough for most of the game leaving Bryan Habana to go and look for the ball, often getting himself into rucks and mauls for something to do. Anyway, at least it was another win for the team...

And, oh yes, lest I forget...the new Wheelie Bin arrived on Saturday afternoon. All shiny and black, brand spanking new with duct tape still holding down the lid, it looked a treat. Then I took it into the yard and spray painted the house number on it, so that no fucker would come and nick my nice new bin. The Wheelie Bin lady's insurance have written her car off, obviously deciding that it will be cheaper to replace, rather than fix, her sledge. And now they can also justify the huge increase they are going to slap onto her premiums too. As she left, I said to her "Drive safe" at which she gave a small laugh and got into the silver VW bakkie she was using to deliver the bin. Do you think I'm joking, you daft fuckin' cow? People like you cost this country millions every year in unnecessary effort and expense, as well as pushing up my premiums to pay for your fuckups.

Anyway, I pottered about the house a bit, watched the afternoon game and chilled out with a cold Capn's Organ and a hot curry I put together earlier in the day.

On Sunday, I woke up about 8am, and decided I better get up and do some more odd jobs about the house and ended up cutting some wood for the fireplace, as it's quite kewl on some nights. I reckon I just about cut enough for the week, so my back has some time to rest before I have to cut some more.

Once I'd showered, I dredged on some jeans and a long sleeve shirt, zipped up the leather waistcoat and donned my crash helmet and went for a leisurely cruise on the Marauder (the new model is called the Boulevard). I ended up going all the way up to Roodepoort area, then turned back through Cresta, Randburg, Fourways, Kyalami and back home along the Old Pretoria Highway, in total doing about 75km. So much for a short cruise. My butt was killing me by the time I got off the bike.

The evening was spent in front of the telly, with a fire burning in the Morso and I ended up going to bed after the Spain/Italy Euro 2008 football match (it is "football", and not "soccer", and should remain so). Italy just did not want to win the match, and I bet Wreckless is a bit disappointed this morning as he is of Italian descendancy. Sorry time leave the prima donnas at home and bring the World Cup winning team instead.

Anyway, I went to bed and read my book for a while, putting the light off and listening to the cat purring in her bed on the dresser next to me, a little after midnight.

Hope you guys all had a great weekend too...

Eishkom are starting their shit again, I see...

During the Euro 2008 game between Spain and Italy (sorry for you, Wreckless) we had eight (8) power failures, ranging in duration from two to about ten minutes.

And now, this morning, we've already had one as well. I wonder how many we'll end up having...

Thursday, June 19, 2008

IMPORTANT!!! Motorists beware...

of intersections (at night or day) where you are stopped in poor light, or there are obstructions blocking your view of the surrounds of your vehicle.

I was on my way home from Action Drinkit last night, having only had five drinks over the period of the game and after-game drinks. Certainly, I wasn't in any way drunk. I was, however, very alert as most of us are these days. And just as well too...

I pulled off the highway at the M1 South, Woodmead offramp (over the highway from Makro), stopped at the traffic lights and noticed two black dudes standing on the inside of the road. One was selling bunches of roses and didn't approach me, so he was no threat. The second, however, was quite well dressed in jeans, hoodie and beanie, and looked at what I thought, was me. Afterward, I realised he was actually passing a signal to his accomplice who was in the bushes behind, and to the left, of my car in my blind spot.

He came up to my car, pleaded hunger and I ignored him at which I also got an eerie feeling and looked left to the passenger side. At that exact moment, his accomplice, who had come out of the bushes, looked in my window, briefly at me, then at what was on the passenger seat. All that was there, luckily, was a plastic carrier bag with milk in it. I looked straight into number two's eyes and it was amazing how calm and emotionless he was, like it was just another day in the office.

I immediately realised what was happening and gunned the car forward a couple of metres, at which both of the black fuckers moved towards the rear of the car. I then slammed the car into reverse and gunned it backwards, knocking the first guy on his arse, but not hard enough that he and his mate could not run away into the bush where number two had come from.

I then went forward again, through the red light and moved slowly toward the next intersection, all the while looking for them coming out of the bush again, but they never showed themselves.

I carried on slowly, got onto the phone and called the SAPS to report what had happened and they said they'd send a car to investigate. Whether they did or not, I don't know as I went straight home.

A few lessons for those of you out there to remember, should something like this (hopefully not) ever happen to you:
1. Always be alert, regardless of time of day or night, or location;
2. If you see someone suspicious, do not focus all you concentration on him, but watch your side mirrors for his companion/s.
3. Watch out for suspicious persons making strange signals to someone you can't see;
4. Make sure the first suspicious person knows you are aware of him. I pointed my index and middle fingers at my eyes and then at him, to show him I was watching him. As in my case, however, it will not always deter them;
5. If the location is poorly lit, do not come to a complete stop, rather keep moving slowly forward, check the intersection and then go through the red light;
6. If there is a camera at the intersection, stop. If something happens here, you can move forward and hopefully get the camera to take a picture of the fucker who is trying to infringe upon your rights to safety;
7. Keep the SAPS emergency number on your phone, 10111. Save it as the first number in your phone book, so that it is easily accessible;
8. Report all incidents of this nature. The more that are reported, the more that has to be done by our lazy SAPS and the more of these fuckers might get caught;
9. If you are not already, become a member of eBlockwatch (it's free and nationwide) and report ALL incidents to them. They have serious connections into the SAPS and they are successful in many cases of bringing criminals to justice.

In the words of an old TV series police office (Hill Street Blues, I think it was), "Be careful out there..."

I got a video-linked chain mail message...

on my Facebook page the other day. As I get quite a few of these, I don't usually browse them until a few days later or when I have "nothing else" to do.

This one, however, got me sad and a little bit annoyed at the same time.

Most of us who have the internet or watch news on TV will probably know about this story, but I want to relate my thoughts on it. They are, as usual, my personal thoughts so don't take offense...make up your own opinions rather.

This is the text that goes around with the video:

"First, please be self-prepared for the following video..
It's really sad about the fact that...the world is unfair..
The last photo of the vid shows that an eagle was waiting for the child to die so it can eat his meat... this photo was awarded for the Pulitzer in 1994... It's taken by a photographer, Kevin Carter, who died of depression after 3 months from taking this photo... The most important message is: Help those whos in need...We should be grateful that we're the lucky ones... Dont waste any food and water anymore... PLEASE SPREAD THIS OUT AND PRAY..PRAY FOR THOSE WHOSE IN NEED..!"

Here is the video that accompanies the above text:

Yes, it is sad, but I want to correct a few misconceptions created by the author (knowingly or not, I'll never know).

Firstly, The "eagle" in the video is actually a vulture. Eagles seldom eat dead flesh and will preferably kill their own prey. Vultures, on the other hand, will seldom kill their prey but will wait patiently while it dies.
Secondly, Kevin Carter (South African journalist who took the photos) did not die of depression. He actually committed suicide by gassing himself in his own car. The reasons for committing suicide may have been brought on by depression, but that did not kill him.
Thirdly, and this is my own belief, prayer will not help but if that's the way you do things don't let me stop you. The only way things get done, or rectified, is if the human beings in the disastrous situation manage to help themselves, or other human beings in a position to help, actually do. Ultimately though, prayer will achieve nothing except help the person praying feel better about him/herself. It certainly won't create a better frame of mind in a life-threateningly hungry child.

In case you're interested in reading more about Kevin Carter, here's a link to a very comprehensive article. Perhaps some of you remember that there was a song written about him too, by the Manic Street Preachers?

Hi Time Magazine
Hi Pulitzer Prize
Tribal scars in Technicolor
Bang bang club AK 47 hour

Kevin Carter

Hi Time Magazine
Hi Pulitzer Prize
Vulture stalked white piped lie forever
Wasted your life in black and white

Kevin Carter x3

The elephant is so ugly he sleeps his head
Machetes his bed Kevin Carter Kaffir lover forever
Click click click click click
Click himself under

Kevin Carter x3


my new Wheelie Bin arrives on Saturday morning, at 09h00.

Or, at least, that's the information I got from the Wheelie Bin Fucker-upper lady.

Time will tell...

Friday, June 13, 2008

The Wheelie Bin fucker-upper...

lady is avoiding me.

I've spoken to her on the phone and I've texted her three times to get the SAPS case number to me so that I can go to Pikitup and get a new wheelie bin.

The only thing I've heard from her is that I should send her the details of Pikitup so that she can go and organise me "a new bin asap".

This got me thinking:
- She never reported it to the SAPS; or
- She gave the paramedic a blowjob in the back of the ambulance so that he didn't take a blood-alcohol test; or
- She spun the SAPS a story that had nothing to do with alcoholically-challenged driving habits; or
- She has a contact in Pikitup

Personally, I think it's the third option (could also have been the second) and she doesn't want me to see what she told them. If she thought for a little bit too, she would know that I could make life seriously difficult for her and her insurance claim if I don't get a new wheelie bin sometime in the next couple of days.

Best for her if she gets in her car...oops, she can't, it's in the panelbeaters...gets in a taxi and gets her ass down to Pikitup very fuckin' soon.

That's the only way I'm going to go away and leave her to sort out her shit.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

For the benefit of Fishman...

and any others who want to see the photos of the deceased Wheelie Bin, browse down to the end of the posting I made about the incident...

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Oh, for Fuck Sakes...

Anonypoes, go and get a fuckin' life, or even better still come this way and I'll put you out of the miserable one you are so desperately trying to hang onto at the moment. Come here and let us cull YOU, you fuckin' halfwit.

Folks...if you've been following the desperate story initiated by this Anonymous halfbreed on Fishman's blog, Fishman changed his settings so that anonymous comments were no longer allowed. Now the fuckin' wanker has forced me to do the same thing to my blog, due to a comment he left earlier, as per below...

"Is dit hier waar die twee groot "jagters" uithang.

Fokken moffies!

En o ja fishman, dit was fokken lekker om jou vrou in die hol te naai terwyl jy die wildsvleis uit gesort het. volgende is die divemaster se vroutjie!"

{sigh}.....I deal with enough stupid people on a daily basis, so I'm not even going to grace this fuckwit's comment with a reply, except to say that if he (you know what...I think he was newtered at birth by his Boksburg-inbred maid and the father he never met, so he has some pent-up sexual frustrations) ever came into contact with "vroutjie", she'd carve off whatever was left of his "manhood" (he obviously doesn't have balls) with that lovely set of kitchen knives she has, then rip open his neck and shove that poor little one-incher so far down he'd shit it out the next time he had a good fart, and his pavement-special mongrel which was licking his arse at the time would grab it and bury it in the backyard, rather going hungry than debasing himself to that level.

Fuck off, asshole. Or register yourself as a blogger and come back so that we can trace you...

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Lost in Translation...

or just plain fuckin' stupid?

We sent a high-level questionnaire to a Nigerian client recently, trying to establish where they want to build a disaster recovery computer centre, why they want to put it there, and what distance it was from their primary centre. The client came back to us and said that it was to be built 25km from the primary centre....fair enough.

The next question read as follows:

"2. How was this distance arrived at?"

The client's answer...

"CAR odometer"

I was rolling on the floor laughing my fuckin' arse off for 5 minutes after reading that reply. We're dealing with the Nigerian rocket scientists here...

Saturday, June 07, 2008

"My Wheelie Bin's been totalled, man..."

That was what I said to the head vulture (first tow truck guy on the scene), but I'm getting ahead of myself...

I was rudely awoken at 04h30 on Saturday morning by a noise that sounded like someone taking a waste skip (big rubbish bin thingy) full of tins and glass and tipping it upside down.

At first, I thought I was dreaming but couldn't remember what I'd been dreaming about. Then I thought that maybe one of the bridge supports for the Gautrain Bridge, about 1km from the house, had finally succumbed to bad construction practices and come crashing down into the river, cranes, bad constructors, and all. But something bothered didn't feel right.

Reluctantly, being the proper start of winter, I pulled on my gown and slippers, walked to the kitchen window, and saw...nothing.

I thought I might as well let the dogs out for a pee as I would then be able to sleep through to 8am, when the gardener was supposed to arrive. After letting them back in, suitably relieved, I looked out the kitchen window again, and saw...a little black lady in a tracksuit walking past the front gate. She got to the right hand side of the drive way and I was thinking "A little early to be going for a jog, I think", but then she turned around and started walking back down the hill again.

Curiosity got the better of me, so I opened the garage door, walked out into the dark, cold morning air and pressed the button for the main gate to open. Getting to the edge of the street, I noticed that our wheelie bin was totally destroyed, lying under the lamppost. At first, I thought that this little black lady and her mates had thrown a firecracker into it and it had exploded which would explain the noise that woke me up, but then I looked down the hill in the direction she had gone...and noticed her car lying on its roof on the opposite side of the road, about 50m from where I was standing.

Properly awake by now, I shouted down to her if everyone was okay and she replied in the affirmative. I trotted back in the house, got the cordless phone and dialled 082911 for the emergency services. Then I dialled 10177 (Metro services) and walked back down to where she was standing, perplexed, next to her upside down car, which now looked like a big sledge. From five feet away from her, I could smell the booze. I asked what had happened and she said that she had swerved out of the way of an oncoming car that was on her side of the road. "Yeah, right", I thought.

She had lost one of her shoes in the accident and started rummaging around inside the car looking for her mobile phone to call someone. I asked where she stayed and it turned out she lives in the complex literally 200m down the road. She said that she could not find her phone but wanted to call her sister to tell her what happened. Problem was, she could not remember her sister's number (see, technology and cell phonebooks aren't always best - how many cell numbers of people in your phonebook can you actually remember?) but she did remember her boyfriend's number. I dialled it for her and handed her the phone. Needless to say, he did not believe her and I took the phone from her and basically confirmed her story to him. We asked him to dial her mobile so that we could find her phone. That done, her phone had been lying right on the floor next to her, well actually it was the roof seeing as the car was upside down. She retrieved the phone and a small black book and started punching in numbers.

It turns out that she actually dialled her insurance (why that early, I have no idea) but while she was on the phone, the first of the vultures arrived, literally five minutes after I placed my call to the Metro guys. I asked them how they got here so fast and he said that her insurance had called her. I then told him that was crap and that she was on her phone to the insurance at that moment. They were either notified by a contact on the Metro servies side (who would get a kickback) or they were monitoring the police radio frequencies, both of which are illegal. Needless to say, the vulture could not reply to my statement and walked off with a smile on his face.

How the car ended up on its roof, became clear to me. We have a few large rocks along our pavement (to keep the bastard taxis off our lawn) and she'd done something like drop her phone or fallen asleep behind the wheel, but she was most certainly speeding. How she'd swerved, or why, is a mystery to me (not for one moment do I believe there was a car coming toward her on her side of the road) but she'd hit the first rock which landed a full 3m from where it normally sits, lost control, totalled the wheelie bin, just missed a lamp post, and hit a second rock on the opposite side of the driveway which had caused her car to flip over onto the passenger side and onto its roof, sledging its way 45m further down the road (I paced it out today). The second rock was found about 10m from its normal resting place. If you drew a straight line between where the two rocks originally lay, she must have missed the lamp post with millimetres to spare.

Anyway...I stood around for a little while, all the time watching my breath condensing on the cold air and started feeling the cold creeping under my gown, at which I thought "fuckit" and walked back into the house. I sat for a while, waiting for the police and emergency guys to arrive, noting the times of all of them. The first to arrive was the fire engine, 40mins after the call (it's standard practice for Metro to send out a fire engine to car accidents). The second was the ambulance, 45mins after the call. The police didn't even bother to arrive, as I found out later in the morning. I waited in the dining room until the fire engine and ambulance, then the tow truck with righted sledge in tow, all left and then went back to bed to read for a while. No way was I going to be able to sleep at that point. After about 15mins, around 06h15, I turned off the light and was woken by my alarm clock at 07h30.

Around midday, I wandered out of the front gate to retrieve what was left of the wheelie bin and found the number plate of the big, expensive, sledge. I pieced it together and went in to get my camera so that I could claim for the bin. These things cost around R900 a piece and there was no way I was going to foot the bill for it. When I got back out, I noticed that the number plate had gone. At first I thought that I had taken it inside with me, but then noticed the little figure walking up the hill, number plate waving in her hand.

I whistled at her to come back and talk, and she reluctantly started coming back toward me. I asked her how she was, looking at the big coffee jug that she was carrying in her hand. Obviously a hangover, I thought. She said she was fine and when I said that I had noticed that the police hadn't arrived to record the accident, she confirmed that they hadn't and she was on her way down to the Buccleuch Police Station (2km away from us!!) to report it. I told her I wanted a copy of the police report and the case number so that she could claim my wheelie bin in her insurance claim, and I could see she was thinking along the lines of "my car's almost a right off and you're worried about your wheelie bin, you dumb fuckin' honkie". I'm not letting her off with it and will be popping around now and then, or calling her, so that I get my new wheelie bin.

As you can see by the photos, the damage to the garden is minimal and will be sorted out this weekend. The wheelie bin, however, is a goner...

Thursday, June 05, 2008


Rajpat (father): "I want you to marry a girl of my choice."
Son: "I will choose my own bride!!!"
Rajpat: "But the girl is Bill Gates's daughter.."
Son: "Well, in that case... ok"

Next Rajpat approaches Bill Gates.
Rajpat: "I have a husband for your daughter...."
Bill Gates: "But my daughter is too young to marry!!!!!"
Rajpat: "But this young man is a vice-president of the World Bank."
Bill Gates: "Ah, in that case... ok"

Finally Rajpat goes to see the president of the World Bank.
Rajpat: "I have a young man to be recommended as a vice-president."
President: "But I already have more vice- presidents than I need!"
Rajpat: "But this young man is Bill Gates's son-in-law."
President: "Ah, in that case... ok"

And that my friends is how Indians do business...

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Yet Another Sad Statistic in Shit Towne...

Friends of ours became another crime statistic the other day, when four armed bastards (carrying AK47's) invaded their home just after lunchtime.

"T" had just left to fetch the kids and had left her maid, "P", to let some contractors in in her absence.

Here's T's recollection of the attack...names have been removed: "K" and "N" are T's kids, aged about 11 and 4 respectively...

"We had a nasty incident on the 9th May. We had an armed robbery at our house. Four guys armed with AK47s. They came at lunchtime just after I left home to fetch K from school. We were expecting 2 contractors that day so P let them in and they gained access. N was at home with P. I got home 15 minutes later and didn't even suspect that the car parked just outside our front door was ominous. I got out the car and saw a chap coming out of the front door carrying Dave's hi-fi and the next minute there was another guy at my side with a gun asking for my car keys. Poor K was sobbing in the car. I managed to get her out and we were told to get inside. He then bound our hands (except for N, thank God) and I had to show him where the safe was and where my jewellery was. I then joined P, K and N in the TV lounge and a guy stood at the door with a gun pointed at us for about 25 minutes. The main guy then came and told us that he had to lock us up and I was so calm, I jumped up and said that he couldn't lock us up in the house as we have the old fashioned door knobs which lock from the inside. I suggested that he lock us up in P's room as she is the only one who has door locks that lock and unlock with a key.

They locked us up in her room and she has 2 windows where the biggest part of the window is burglar-proofed and the top smaller part is not. I pushed the bed back, put paper on the floor and proceeded to knock the window glass out. Managed to squeeze out of the window and ran to the kitchen to get a pair of scissors to cut off the binds. Got everyone out and then phoned the police.

They took my car but abandoned it outside Soweto. Nothing was touched in the car, K's school bags were still in the car, nothing missing. So I was quite relieved. We are all still a bit shaky and I am taking N for play therapy as he has taken it really quite hard. He is very scared that the "bad men" are coming back.

So we have a lot to be grateful for because I really thought they were going to shoot us all! I shake all the time, hope that it passes."

Steph spoke to T and she talked her through the whole incident. T said it's uncanny how your spirituality kicks in (she said she now relates to Steph's situation) and how one's intuition kicks in together with the fact that you realise you need to stay calm. T's counsellor said that is what saved them. The guys spoke very good English and were well dressed. They believe it was the guys doing renovations that had something to do with it. Poor N freaks out every now and again when he sees a black guy with a beanie in the shops or anywhere. They're sending the kids for counselling too.

One of the sadly good things about this country is that if the situation was any different, in that house robberies and hijackings were an uncommon event, more people would be getting hurt, or killed, during them. The fact that they are commonplace probably saves a lot of lives as people remember previous incidents. It's just really sad that the kids were involved as well...they will take the longest to recover.

In the meantime, the fuckers who committed the robbery are still at large...

People can say what they like about how bad the so-called Xenophobic attacks are that are still ongoing (and no, I don't condone the attacks), but I think these house attacks are being committed by locals who are blaming illegal aliens for them to take the focus off the true perpetrators, who are just too organised for them to be committed by refugees. Also, if the attacks were carried out by refugees, would they not use these same weapons on the locals who are attacking them as a means of self-defence?

'Tis a fucked up country we live in, I tell ya...

Just Leave it to my Bruthafromanuthmutha...

to find these sort of things. My posting about flavored toothpaste urged him to send me links to some of his favourite toothpaste sites. Him living in the USA, I can understand why he would have some of this toothpaste in his bathroom cabinet.

Here's Toothpaste World...I kid you not. Check out the "Partystore" link...

According to my Brutha, there's also meat-flavoured toothpaste for dogs. How pathetic is that? Leads me back to my other posting about stupid people...

Love you too, dude. Hurry back to Africa...

Monday, June 02, 2008

More Thoughts on...


If mankind is so clever, how come we don't yet have toothpaste that tastes like a hamburger, or a chocolate milkshake? Or a beer, for that matter...might just help some alcoholics' craving for the taste.

I'm tired of having my toothpaste taste link's horrible.

More Thoughts on...


I used to think the world was full of people doing stupid things.

Now I'm convinced the world is just full of stupid people...