I've met so many people who think like this. I usually pick it up after one or two in depth conversations. These people probably never perceive themselves in this way. It's a sad life in which the closest friend they can keep is their own reflection in the mirror. This however, doesn't seem to bother them in the least...
If, perchance, I too fall under this category please tell me so I can perform brain surgery on myself crossing fingers that I will lop off the right portion and become a worthy human being again.
In case you were wondering, this is just a general post aimed at finding out if I am (have become) what I hate. If you think you know who I am leave an honest comment (I can take it !!! *crushes an empty appletiser can onto his forehead*)
I was cooking up something in the kitchen the other day while listening to background MTV. Well to be honest, someone else was watching MTV while I was cooking. The reason I don’t want to say that I was listening to MTV is because these days it’s quite an embarrassing place to be caught channel surfing. Think about it, most of the music is complete and utter rubbish. Advertisements make up around 50% of the broadcast content (you know the channel content is bad when you actually look forward to the advertisements… like SABC). As for moral values… well you can throw those out the window what with Beyonce constantly filling the screen with her… junk. I’m drifting; the point of this post is modern pop music.
Back to the kitchen...
There I was, innocently cooking a meal when I heard this terrible groaning noise accompanied by loads of uncoordinated bass tracks (seemingly put together by a ravenous three year old slamming his fists onto a jelly tot encrusted keyboard hooked up to cheap electro composing software…or Justin Timberland). I HAD to investigate, so I bravely left my meal prep to sneak a peek at the screen. Who could possibly make such an awful din (only worthy of an MTV line up)?
Well, the answer believe it or not, was Janet Jackson. I thought the groaning was perhaps a form of tribute to her late brother, you know, a sorrowful and mourning sister expressing her grief through the medium of agonizing vocals… I peeked for a few seconds longer to try making sense of the whole thing from the music video.
This was a very bad idea.
Mine eyes were greeted by a pair of bodies writhing against a wall. One Janet Jackson, the other, some scantily clad sweaty black dude…and no they weren’t mourning. This ‘music video’ was actually just a sex scene and the lyrics to the ‘song’ were basically Janet having an orgasm for four and a half minutes. What was the reason for this? All I could do was assume that the music industry had finally written and made several cover versions of every possible combination of words and lyrics for commercial gain. The options currently available to song writers at the moment:
1.Make up words (Rihanna and Nelly Furtado have taken this path)
2.Distort existing words so much that peoplebarely recognise them (Shakira and Lady Gaga seem to have this method down)
3.Just make random noises with your vocal chords to accompany music (Janet Jackson, above)
4.Distract viewers so much with raunchy music videos they won’t even realise your lyrics and music are complete shite (Pussycat Dolls and Madonna… just make me want to barf, it’s a miracle these tracks even get aired on the radio)
It seems as though song writers around the world have been hit by this phenomenon. There are no current tracks that appeal to me. None, nada, zilch… gone are the days of meaningful, emotive and moral music. A small part of me died as I copy/pasted the final track from my ‘New Music’ folder into the ‘Oldies’ folder.
I think 'American Pie' would be an apt song to describe days like this (by Don McLean not Madonna's treacherous cover version)
Chores… the word strikes at the heart of every prepubescent in every household. Parents say that chores build character and yes, I agree 100%, but there are times when chores seem awfully close to child labour. And since, as a kid, I hardly ever got paid for doing chores it was even closer to child slavery!
Honestly, how many kids can say that their character and morals were built on a solid foundation of SLAVERY! Now THAT’S real character building. It didn’t just happen at home, it happened at school as well. When I think back, our little school out in the styx took just as much advantage of us than our parents did. Mr Terry, wielding a referees whistle while prancing around in his overly conspicuous short shorts would order us about. “Mow that grass!” “Rake them fields!” “Cut those brambles!” “Fill those potholes!” “Paint those lines!” we even built and mended the school picket fences in our so called ‘woodwork’ classes.
When we got home from school yet more chores awaited us. It didn’t matter that we had a domestic worker, we still had to mow the lawn, prune the trees, wash the cars, clean the house, cook some food, wash the dishes, wax and polish the floors, vacuum the carpets, do our homework… and my pet hate… Pick up the dog shit! Yes on top of the list of ‘crappiest chores’ was crap itself. It was wonderful having three Rhodesian Ridgebacks in our ample yard. Less wonderful, however, was having to clean up after them… my cousin or brother and I would have to do this chore as a team. One would brandish a spade whilst the other would follow closely with the old orange wheel barrow. It’s difficult to say which one I enjoyed doing more… or less to be honest (so so difficult to favour either shoveling excrement or carting excrement… nope, still can’t decide.
To add insult to injury, our dogs were fed the cheapest dog food on the market. Y’know the stuff that contains 95% bulk and 5% nutrition (we knew this then because it looked the same going in as did it coming out, had pretty much the same texture and I swear the same quantity). This was the dog food you could only buy in 50kg hessian sacks. I felt sorry for our dogs sometimes, the diet gave them a ton of gas. I can say with quite a large amount of confidence that these dogs farted more than they barked (and they barked at pretty much everything and everyone!).
In any case, I spotted one of our dogs taking a dump on our lawn today and it made me think about the ol’ wheelbarrow and spade routine. I thought to myself “EEbEE, you’re a scientist… think of something that could make that Satan spawn chore a bit easier”. Then it hit me, like a sack of… well you know…. The answer was so simple and so effective. I called it the “Poo Auger”. The doodle below illustrates my geniusness!!!
See!!! The poo just gets buried where it lies. Not only is it easier than shoveling and carting but you also end up fertilizing the lawn! You can even take your “Poo Auger™” camping so you can easily hide all evidence of that boskak you took after eating bad potjie. I will be taking bulk orders for the “Poo Auger™” order 10 or more and get a free 2ply camping toilet roll dispenser!
So back to the chores, I’d hate for everyone to think that I was tortured as a kid so I’m going to come clean. The chores didn’t actually take much of our leisure time or even effort come to think of it… it’s just that we HAD to complain bitterly when we got chores. This was purely to avoid being given more chores... I’m sure our parents would have piled on the work if we showed any signs of enjoyment while doing those things “EEbEE enjoys mowing the lawn, he should do it more often”.
All I can say is that when my own kids are growing up, they will each get a shovel and wheelbarrow set on their 6th birthdays (or should I make it 5th?).
Last month I got quite concerned about little Charlie Basset. He stopped eating! After showing zero interest in his morning kibble I decided to consult the Basset manual. The manual basically describes Basset Hounds as humble priests that only bow down to an alter of food. The manual says, and I quote “…you can train your Basset to walk on water for food…”.
Needless to say, I paged straight to the sickness and wellbeing section of the manual. I carefully read through all the known health issues and symptoms and simply couldn’t find one that matched Charlie’s behavior. The closest I got was gastric torsion; this happens when your dog eats too much air and it gets trapped in the GIT causing massive discomfort, pain and… loss of appetite. The manual said it can be fatal in a matter of hours. So I picked up Charlie and massaged his belly while holding him upright all the time listening for the movement and release of trapped air…
Nothing…
What could it be???
I wasn’t convinced by the symptoms, he was still as playful and happy as the day we got him. No signs of discomfort either, just a loss in appetite. 12 hours later his bowl of food was still untouched. He wouldn’t even eat his special treats or even sausage!!!
I spent that night checking on Charlie every hour for signs of stress or pain to no avail. He seemed perfectly healthy. The next day he ate a little after being messaged for around 20 minutes but it was only about a ¼ of his usual quantity. By that evening I was convinced that I should take him to the vet. I was so close to loading him up into my bakkie to the vet before I noticed something… There…
…between his legs…
This dog had a serious boner!
Could it be??? His love of food has just temporarily been blocked out by…
...other needs…
My Charlie is growing up so quickly *sniff-sniff* (I'm listening to 'Alphaville - forever young' and crying helplessly right now)...{no, not really, what do you take me for!?}
I chose not to go to the vet and instead monitor his… penis… till I got an answer. That very afternoon I got a sign (I'll leave out the desciption here to address my TMI comment from a previous post). Charlie tried to hump my leg as I was brushing his coat. Slightly disgusted but less worried about his condition, I retired to bed to have a good night’s sleep. The next day, I was able to draw a pattern, every time I gave Charlie attention he got a boner! By the afternoon he was humping the edge of his tyre bed.
Sigh! (…of relief more than anything)
All is well now, I guess his hunger took over from his hormones after three days of eating a fraction of food.
