Nothing of the sort…

I can’t work under these conditions.

And God knows I can’t be my own muse because I’m boring as fuck.  Ok no wait.  I am AWESOME. As a matter of fact if I were an animal, I’d be a unicorn / possum combo. I’d pee glitter and poo rainbows. I’d be able to hang upside down from a tree and poke you in the vagina with my horn if you made me narfy. But I am just too darn modest to write about my own escapades.

I wonder if one could buy a possum on eBay.  How awesome would that be!! He could sleep in bed with us!

Screw you eBay.

Anyhoo, this isn’t much of a blog post, just thought I’d let everyone know I am STILL alive considering that I got this sent to me today. Well played.

So anyways, while I write an actual blog post, here is a picture of a possum on a snowboard.  Because they are THAT fucking awesome.

P.S I tagged the word “whore” to this post… I want to see the stats of how many pervs are going to click on this blog while searching for “whores”, and then find a snowboarding possum.

Funny. As. Poop.

*looks left*

Hmmm a prestic snowman that a friend made for me… I’m fucked!

Anyhoo I need to share my trauma with you and why I think my colleagues are all heartless zombies who like nothing better than to eat people’s brains and kill stuff! (I may be exaggerating just a little… about the brains).

So there’s been a bad smell wafting around my office the last 2 days, like dead moose bad… so after thinking some sort of creature has died outside under our window,  imagine our joy at noticing some flies stuck to the ceiling.

Like they’re really interested to get in there… like a homesick mole.

So with much dread I alert emergency services (Barrie – our go to cleaner guy) who comes over with what can only be called a midget ladder.  Like the ones at the circus that the clowns jump off into little pools… or not… either way it was pathetic and after climbing on it he was still only tall enough to look into my belly button (We need ADULT ladders people!).  So he gets up there, loosens the ceiling board… and RATS, RAT BABIES raining on my head!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD GET IT AWAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

And then I noticed that some were dead and others were still kind of alive.  The poor things!

Ye ye screw you guys that are going to give me shit, baby rats are cute OK!  They look a little like a Joey before it develops the big fuck off kick-you-in-the-guava-feet!

And I’m all like, “For the love of God save them someone do something… do mouth to mouth!!”

And all my colleagues were doing was shouting… KILL THEM KILL THEM!

So I ran upstairs for sympathy, and all I got upstairs from my wide eyed pitchfork holding colleagues was “good, they must dieeeeeeeeeeeeee! All dieeeeeeeee! They stink!”

Well, if YOU had to shit on the ceiling boards, you wouldn’t smell that peachy either! It’s not their fault they’re rats!

The trauma! Rat baby rain…

I need to be stabbed in the eye by a rainbow now! Nothing else could make me feel better!

P.S. Taking a sick day tomorrow… The Black Plague.

P.P.S I know I know, this was a terrible post, but here’s a picture to make you feel better.

Last night being Valentines day and if you read my previous post, you’d know that Dalekins and I were going to have a “carpet picnic”.  The picnic part went down a treat!

He did champagne with raspberries, prawns with his own home made dip (oh behave!), fingers foods and to end off, Tiramisu! It was great!

But the absolute highlight of the night was that I potentially tore my foofy valve laughing harder than I can ever remember laughing before.

What a flipping hoot!

About two years ago, we bought this game called Monogamy, it’s like Monopoly but instead of Chance cards you have cards that make you do intimate things for each other.  Some as simple as complimenting the person at least twice during the next week.  Others are to plant a kiss on the cheek, or seductively eat something in front of your partner.  Now the more times you go around the board, the more risqué (Absolutely RIDICULOUS) things become.

I should have known how this game was going to turn out, playing it with Dalekins when he landed on a block where he had to eat something seductively in front of me. Now I don’t quite know why eating things should turn people on, I get incredibly uncomfortable eating bananas in company because people always make eye contact with you… Normal people do not re-enact scenes from Fatal Attraction people… it’s awkward!

Oooooh I’m going to seductively bite into this cheeseburger, imagine me biting into your junk?  WTF!

So anyhoo Dalekins picks up a raspberry, lobs it high in the air and after it hitting him in the eye twice, he finally caught it with his mouth open and then began to chew it like those people who have no teeth…

Dalekins: *wiggles eyebrows* Hot huh…?

Me: I’m never kissing you again.

This game just got more ridiculous as we moved around the board. Dalekins lands on a block entitled “Massage parlour”, and I’m groaning already because this would entail me having to get my arse up to do the massaging, yes yes I know we’re supposed to be all romantic but I’m not fucking 12 anymore, and I have been sitting on the carpet for an hour with my legs in a funny angle, my hydraulics doeth protest!

Dalekins: YE BABY!!! A sensual back massage you owe me! BOOM, that just happened!

Me:  A sensual massage you say? Am I supposed to massage your back with my vagina!?

Dalekins: *goes on all fours and puts his hand up for a High 5!

Well that was me.  Finished.  I couldn’t even breath I was laughing so hard.

Dalekins: Tash, your tears are dripping on my back. It’s not sexy I’m not going to lie.

The evening kind of just ended after that because I just couldn’t control my giggles with every card I picked up after that.  I think Dalekins and I missed the point of this game entirely.  You be the judge, here are some of the things it suggested we do:

Undress your partner, go to the kitchen and get a box of Cornflakes.  Now put the cornflakes on her breasts and on her “love cup” (yes they called it a love cup) and get to munching.  You’ll never want bacon and eggs again.  Really????

How awkward would that trip to hospital be to get a cornflake out of my husbands throat.  “Well Doctor, he was eating his cereal out of my love cup and he just started choking”.  Need I point out, there is nothing worth choking about on my love cup, it would be the cornflakes fault ok, let’s just be clear about that!

Want to get down and dirty? Go outside make a mud pit then lie naked in it with your partner and go for it! Now I can only assume what they meant by GO FOR IT, but I am assuming they have never met my 2 dogs who would think this was the funniest game ever and having a 40kg dog jump on your junk to join in on the game would be… unpleasant. Secondly, gravel in your poonani… just saying.

Take all the mirrors in your house and put them around your bedchamber (we have a bedchamber because we live in the 1800’s?), now you can watch yourself make love.  That’s awesome, there is no way I am pulling all my mirrors off the walls to put them around the bed.  A Hand mirror it will have to be, and good luck with getting a good angle with that thing. Small flashes of butt crack every now and again will do NOTHING for me I assure you. There it is! Now it’s gone! There it is! It’s like playing genital peek-a-boo.

Oh and my favourite one, the one that made Dalekins spit his champagne out in my face when he read it:

Pretend to be sex toy sales people. Invite all your friends over, once everyone has had a few drinks, get naked and then do a dual demonstration for them with your partner using the sex toys on each other.  Then invite your friends to join in.

Wha?

If the game is called “Monogamy” why are you trying to involve other people!?

Worst game ever. Twister and Olive oil it is next year.

So it’s Valentine’s Day! The day you’re supposed to sing praises about some fat baby that flies around naked and shoots people in the arse with the proverbial love… spear? That sounds dirty.  And mildly disturbing…

No one should ever be shot in the arse with a love spear.  Unless you’re flaming.  In that case, you’re having a good day! Me on the other hand, dipped in the pool of heterosexuality I am, anything coming near my rear in the shape of something long and hard would only elicit a screeching “That’s my assssssssssssssss!” and an ultimate punch to your nuggets.

Anyhoo, so people have been asking me all morning what Dalekins and I have planned tonight?  When I tell them we’re having a ‘carpet picnic”, they start grinning like idiots.  We are literally going to be sitting on the floor eating finger foods and drinking some wine, so why is it that everyone starts wiggling their eyebrows and pelvic thrusting at me!

*looks up at sentence “carpet picnic and finger food”*

Sigh. Fine Whatever. I’ve got nothing.

Seriously though for some weird reason, everyone seems to think Dalekins and I are “that couple”.  You know the ones.  You’re worried about going to their house because you’re almost sure when you walk in the door you’ll be asked to put your car keys in a giant bowl and you’ll be asked to stir your drinks with dildos and you’ll be slipping on all the lube just randomly lying around!

The wife will sit next to you rubbing your leg and all you want to do is fling yourself on the floor in a mock epileptic fit ready to swallow your own tongue  if need be!

Indeed.

I was literally asked by one of my colleagues today whether I was bringing out the big guns tonight, opening my cupboard pulling out the selection of whips, handcuffs and extra-large strap-ons, and told to make sure that I make Dalekins safe word something difficult to pronounce.  Something in German perhaps.

*blink blink*

(Just FYI Dalekins, I’ve chosen to rather go with Welsh, your safe word tonight is: Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch)

What about me screams kinky biatch I ask you?

Dalekins and I are perfectly normal with some kinks but seriously you will not hear “Spank me with your spatula baby!!” resonating from our house… You’re more likely to hear “Seriously are you going to keep your glasses on, you are NOT Clark Kent you know…” and “At least take your socks off!”

Too all the haters of Valentines Day, stop cutting out your ex lovers eyes from old photographs – You’re creepy, go out and cuddle a bunny or some shit.  Get some joy in your life.  Don’t make me whip you!!!

And to all of those who are heartbroken today and feel alone, chin up, come to my next party.  FYI:  Wrap your car keys in masking tape, it makes choosing more anonymous and wear your rubber undies!

And to my darling hubbykins!  Happy Valentines Day!!!

P.S If you dont know what an ultimate Punch is:

Today was that day for Dalekins!

I often find myself thinking up the perfect murder plot.  Like beating someone to death with a frozen leg of lamb, cooking it and eating all the evidence! Bam take that mofo’s try prove that in court! And this morning I found myself yanking open the freezer looking for aforementioned leg of lamb, finding only a frozen chicken boob and lobbing that at Dalekins head instead! We make do with the tools we have at hand!

Why you ask am I trying to maim Dalekins? Well 2 reasons really.

First of all, Dalekins has this habit of eating all the awesome snacks we have in the cupboard and leaving me only…one. I’ll be craving some nuts for example, fabulous, I know I bought a full bag just yesterday!

*opens bag*

*moths fly out*

*one lowly little nut sits stuffed in the corner of the bag*

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss……..!!!

“Dallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllle *&%$#%$@#%$^$^$%##!!”

“Wha?” *munch munch* “can thalk mouf full…”

So anyhoo… it’s because of this very reason why we no longer have any Nutella in our house.  Ever.  He will flat out eat an entire tub in an afternoon leaving me only the fumes.

So when we went grocery shopping the other day, he sneakily hid a tub of nutella under the washing powder and when I spotted it he assured me (swore on our first born) that he would control himself this time.  That he would NOT eat it all in one day, it would be an “occasional snack”

Hmmmm….

Zoom in to this morning when I felt like having some nutella on my toast!

*opens jar*

*moths fly out*

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!! Dallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllle!!!”

You see, he was nodding at me when I told him he needs to control his chocolate cravings which made me think he understood.  But all he was thinking in his head was:

If that wasn’t bad enough, after moaning at him for eating an entire jar of Nutella, I pick up my car keys stomp towards the door to leave.  He picks up the broom (that was leaning against the door) and yells at me.. “Well you’re not going to get anywhere if you leave your car behind” and thrusts the broom in my face…

…….

…

*blink blink*

You see, we moved into our brand new house and were left with a beautiful garden, and now after getting two hulking Boerbul / Ridgeback puppies, who are 7 months but act like 2-year old terrorists, our garden /grass now looks like shit!

Seriously I don’t know what is in their pee, but it must be like some form of hydrochloric acid, the ones you see in the movies where those guys are wearing hazmat suits and then the acid messes on them and you see them banging on glass while they beg you to “Just let us out for Gods sake mannnnnnnnnn!” while their faces melt off, you know the one?

Well yes, that is what my dogs are wee’ing all over the grass.  And they do it in the same fucking place all the time, so now my garden looks like a Twister mat with all these polka dots of dead grass everywhere! The one section is even starting to resemble a smiley face!

When I walk out and see the dead grass I get angry and then they run up to it, tongues wagging out and give you that “Look-what-we-made-you-mom” face that makes me feel bad about strangling them.  Fuck!

Stop fucking up my garden! And why must you eat everything, and dig holes to China! Seriously, what are you trying to findddddddddddddddddd!

We buy these brats a gazillion toys to amuse them during the day, you literally cannot take a step in our garden without stepping on something squeaky or spikey or some sort of rope attached to a cows hoof  that threatens to wrap itself around your legs and fling you into the pool when you walk past it (the dead cows revenge for stealing his shoes maybe?) so why oh whyyyyyyy do they act like they have nothing to amuse them and rip our plants / grass to shreds?

…and then there was that disgusting fly catching bag thing we put up in the tree to prevent the flies from bugging our “poor little babies” while they run around and play all day (translate into “fuck up our shit”) which they pulled down (because they’re the size of  small horses now and can jump really mofo-high) onto themselves which just meant that coming home after work I had 2 pooches who smelt like a rotting whale carcass jump on me to give me loves… thanks.  I think.  No I take it back.  No thanks.  You stink.  Fuck.

Anyhoo.  Love them to bits and this whole story above was a lot of digression into my actual tale about coming home and seeing the manky long grass that’s half dead yesterday.

So I pulled out the lawn mower in a fit of fury! Screw you grass, I will make you my bitch! And mowed the lawn, IN MY WORK CLOTHES!

Dalekins came home and steered clear of me.  Partly because he came out to see my mowing aforementioned lawn in my work clothes, swatting at mozzies,  mumbling about “me having to sort shit” and “killing the dogs” and “fuck you grass” and “all my princess dreams have come true” with sweat pouring off me (very sexy) and a face like thunder.

It was AWESOME! When I was done I pulled my top over my head and ran around the garden like I’d just scored a goal.

So I’d like my honorary penis now please.  No I won’t use it.  It will go in a jar on the shelf, next to my honorary ball sack.

This is when they were still tiny.  And well behaved.  How can you not love those faces!

Happy New Year by the way!!!

This issue seems to be pissing off a lot of South Africans and I just don’t understand the mass horror over this issue.

Some comments from the News24 thread:

“When SA has the highest rate of rape and sexual violence ..and they consider this?????????? Who ever came up with this idea shud be shot in cold blood.”  (Bad Porn!! Murder is ok though?)

“Christians, we need to PRAY real HARD, march against such evilness and Cry that God may touch the hearts of these perveted minds…the world is getting more and more rotten – that means our GREAT struggle continues….”

Yoyoyo. This is going to ruin the beautiful South Africa. Guys we have to agree that we aint Americans,BRITISH OR EUROPEANS. (What? We’re not open minded?)

Da day of judgement is here ppl souls have been sold to da devil (Ahhh so TODAY is the rapture… again.  Really?  Really really?)

Stop being so fucking judgmental people. People are commenting about praying for our souls, South Africa will be in ruin, Our children’s souls will be lost, God help us all, rape and sexual violence will increase.

What the fu…?

If you don’t like it, don’t buy the fucking decoder. If I buy it, please don’t feel the need to pray for my salvation.

If you’re worried about your children being ruined, then maybe you should be practicing some active parenting.  Yes I know, now you will have to stop just plonking your kid down infront of the tv.

Each to his own.

Unless you can hear my nekkid wrestling midgets from next door, it’s not really bothering YOU is it?

Your thoughts?

And now I’m hungry… *sigh*

Anyhoo, I couldn’t think of anything useful to write today. So why write anything at all you ask? Well… You not the boss of me kaaaaaaaaaay! Ok no wait you kind of are, come bacccccck!

So I thought what could be a better thing to write on but the 5 reasons why Justin Biebers vagina is bigger than mine.

Yes I am sad to say that I did Google this for about 5 minutes some solid research on this topic and can therefore be seen as the leading expert on all things pertaining to Justin Bieber’s giant vagina. But don’t panic, I have had a good “Jik” bath and my eyes have finally stopped stinging, so I am good to go, and can share this useful information with you.

1)      His middle name is Drew. I know right? That’s what your parents do when you are graced with a hermaphrodite baby and are not sure whether the winky or the cookie is going to be more dominant, so you give it 2 names.  Unfortunately they chose the winky name first, and it’s too late to change it now.

MY middle name is Billy-Jean.  How cool am I? I am the only person that is technically allowed to do that WHOOP WHOOP sound that chicks do when an awesome song comes on at a club because clearly this song was written for me.

2)      His favourite drink is Vitamin Water. What the fu…? Mine is Klippies when Im in a fighting mood, wine when I’m trying to be pretentious and Caramel vodka when I want to sleep under a table.

The fact that he is a child still is just no fucking excuse I’m sorry. You’re a tweeny celeb, you should atleast have injected heroin straight into your eyeball by now and buried 2 hookers.

Big vaginaaaaaaaaaaa *whispers*

3)      His favourite word is “shawty”! Bitch – you are 5 foot 3 (that’s a midget to us in the NEW WORLD using the metric system) I will fuck your shit up.  I could use your head to rest my beer on little munchkin. (Actually I have no idea how tall 5 foot 3 is, cause I’m a size 7 so my 5 foot 3 might be bigger than yours?)

4)      He does that stupid hair flick CONSTANTLY! Stop doing that!! Unless you have Tourettes, (in which case I apologise) if it’s irritating you that much put it up with a banana clip or some shit!

My hair is always up or out of my face because if it’s in my face, I’ll CUT you!!!

5)      Fuck I’m running out of reasons here. Oh wait.

Besides, my mummy never met her dad, he passed away while she was in the womb so this could not possibly explain her “daddy issues” or how in the hell I tied that up with her love for all things dead and sparkly.  Haaaaaaa bet you all feel bad for laughing at my mums love of vampires now huh!

Don’t laugh at my mom – I’ll cut you!

Yes.  This post IS going to bounce all over the show because I have just had my first hit of caffeine in months and my brain is pinging around in my head like a pinball. No jokes about my brain being the SIZE of a pinball thankyouverymuch!

Anyhoo, where was I…

Ah yes.  Twilight!

So I book tickets for a few of us ladies to go and watch the latest Twilight – Breaking Dawn.  Yes I am vaguely embarrassed by this admission.  But then I think of Jacob’s 8-pack and I get over it.  But then I start to feel slightly like a peadophile.  Damn you Hollywood!! *shakes fist*

*phones sister*

Me: So I’ve booked us tickets to go watch Twilight

Sisterkins: Oh fuck no! I am NOT watching that shit!

Me: But mom wants to! (see how I lay the blame on mum)

Sisterkins: Fine, but you’re buying me TWO boxes of popcorn!

Me: What the fu…? Since when do we resort to extortion? What are we, the Gambino family? You be careful now missy, I have an Italian surname now, I can take you!

Sisterkins: AND I am NOT sitting next to mom!

Me: Why not?

Sisterkins: Because she makes that disgusting “sssssssssssssssssssssthhhhhhhhhhhhh” noise every time she sees one of those stupid sparkly vampires take their shirt off.  It grosses me out!

Me: FINE! (Now I’m feeling nauseas because I’m imagining my mother and Edward in a tryst! Eeeergh dead puppies dead puppies!)

What a load of poop! I was fine until these wolves started talking to each other with their minds – while growling.  Really?  I can’t even do that pat your head while rubbing your stomach thing, but these beasts, who don’t even have opposable thumbs, can growl and be telepathic all at the same time?

Em… it is telepathic when you speak with your mind eh? Or is it when you set shit on fire with your mind, I can’t remember. Or is that Pyrotechnics?  Fuck… they both have a “T” in okay!

And Why God why does Bella ALWAYS look so pained… she’s walking down the aisle biting her lip like she’s holding in a huge fart!  The whole time while she was doing her “walk down”, I was thinking, just let it go lady for fuck sakes… blame it on the dog! (Twilight – Breaking Wind.  Is that too lame? I can never tell!)

The only pleasure I got from this whole exercise was looking over at my mom every now and again (because yes, I too didn’t want to sit next to her and listen to her grossy gross sexy times noises every time she saw Edward or Jacob) and seeing the huge smile on her face because SHE absolutely loved it!

Love you mummy, even though you drag your daughters with you to what can be deemed as porn in your mind.  You do realize that the one is dead and the other, an animal, and I am almost sure that is illegal in most countries!

Dalekins: Why do you ALWAYS give me the Pear and current fruit bar?

Me: Because you like pears and currents and I don’t?

Dalekins: I heard you say just last night how much you love pears!

Me: You sir are a liar, I do not like pears and currents are like raisins and raisins are from the devils bum so I would never say that.

Dalekins: Luckily I recorded the conversation!

Me: You record our conversations?

Dalekins: Oh yes, for these exact arguments when I need proof?

Me: Proof of what?

Dalekins: That you love pears!

Me: I do NOT love pears.

Dalekins: But you said….! I’ll send you the recording!

Me: *waits for recording*

*listens*

Dalekins in creepy high-pitched-been-kicked-in-the-nuts-voice: “Hi I’m Tash and I just luuuurve pears so very much!”

*goes back to Dalekins voice*

Dalekins: Oh isn’t that lovely, you can have the pear fruit bars then!

*Recording finishes*

Dalekins: And yet!! There it is again! In MY lunchbox, the flipping pear fruit bar!!

Me: *confused face* For the  love of all things ungrateful!!  I would never say that number one because I don’t fucking LOVE pears, and you make me sound like a drag queen who’s tucked his junk in between his legs! So screw it, from now on you’re getting dry mouldy bread crusts in your lunchbox!!”

Dalekins: Fine! But who doesn’t love pears! Is it because you hate the Cape?

Me: Wha…?