Celibate schmoozing with young and old Wops with funny names

Was hoping to be able to report back on my “good” porno today, but unfortunately haven’t got around to watching it. No fear, I thought, there’d at least be the entertaining tales of my antics at Teazers, which was the plan for Wednesday night. But no, the universe has conspired to keep me very close to celibate this week, thanks to a combination of work and the infernal monthly period. I guess all that will have to wait till next week, then….

In other news, I’ve taken up Italian bowls (bocce) with my sister. The team is based at the Italian Club in Bedfordview and is rated 6th best in the world, so one day I may well be an international sporting star. Suck on that, you amateurs! Apart from my sister and myself, there is one person under the age of thirty on the team, and everyone else is a short-tempered foul-mouthed short Italian septuagenarian – exactly what I intend to become one day. Call me gifted - way ahead of my time - if you will.

This weekend bears little in terms of crazy hedonism, but should consist of some good casual schmoozing – drinks with the Italian youth this evening (got to make friends with those who’ll be short-tempered foul-mouthed septuagenarian Wops with me one day), an art gallery run on Sunday, followed by bocce, and if I’m lucky, a good porn movie… keep your fingers crossed (but your legs spread), dearies!

Last note: I’ve been gathering information for an employee list at my current client, and am having many opportunities to absolutely hose myself at the names I find… Salaminah Pinkie Minkie. Indeed. And a Parmanandhan Sugananda. And a Heavy Maposa. How about Boy Kleeinbooi? Sue Moosa! And first names like Chrisostomus, or Mummy or Mumsy? God bless our colourful little rainbow nation…

An act of true love

You’ll remember my recent dismal attempts at acquiring porn with Peas last week. The Gilb reported after watching it with me, that he “threw up a little in his mouth”. Well, he called last night to tell me he’d got stuck in traffic that afternoon, and pulled into the nearest shopping centre to wait for it to die down. He stumbled upon a dingy little porn shop, went inside and asked the female assistant if they had anything good to watch with the girlfriend. He spent a tidy little packet (remember, he is currently unemployed) on it too…

I was completely bowled over by the gesture, I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone ever did for me…. And no, I haven’t had a chance to see it yet, but I’m getting all excited about it (yes, you could say I have wet cotton panties).

Lessons learnt over the past few days

1 – always take a male with when buying porn dvd’s. Just because the title sounds kinky (Horny Housewives, Wet Cotton Panties #16), doesn’t mean the content will turn you on.
2 – dirty talk during sex is usually a turn-off. “I’m fucking your ass” (no shit, can’t you see the pain on my face?!?), “I’m going to slam your pussy” just won’t cut it. A friend says she hates talk of any kind, and prefers appreciative moans/sighs. I agree!
3 – never leave said movies lying on the coffee table after viewing, you never know when your flatmate’s mom will pop round for a visit, much to the consternation of you, your boyfriend and your flatmate.
4 – don’t rely on your flatmate to warn you that, immediately after the throes of heady Sunday morning passion her mom will be popping round for a visit.
5 – don’t rely on being able to find clothes that will hide all evidence of aforementioned passion in a mad scramble to open the door to your flatmate’s mother (because your flatmate’s not home yet!!!)
6 – but do rely on the prior generation’s naivete to cover your actions. “My goodness, I’m so sorry, I must have just woken you up! Poor dears, please go on back to sleep – my daughter promises she’ll be here in a moment”.
7 – don’t rely on any friends who turn 30 to act 30, especially when they’re men. That’s just plain stupid. However, do rely on them to be as endearingly drunk at their parties as ever, and to carry permanent markers around for their bodies to be adorned with obscenities, courtesy the other 30-year-old-in-denials at the party. But, don’t rely on the permanent marker to be able to write over chocolate body paint that has been lasciviously licked off with horny tongues.
8 – do rely on great friends to cook up a storm and entertain you when you need distraction from problems. Yummy, thanks, and *burp*

Down and out, but with bog roll

Grief. What a stinking fuss. Thought I’d just publish a pic – you can guess where my support lies. Only because the reaction was vastly out of proportion with the crime.



Anyhoo. Back to the real, rational world. I’ve been slogging away on three business proposals, each of which has somehow met a dead-end. The Midas touch.

I’ve been feeling that, in a flurry of New Year’s goodwill, I’ve taken on far, far too much, and am revisiting that sensation of wanting to be hospitalised so that someone can look after me and take on all my responsibilities for a bit. But hopefully this sinking feeling will pass, and Lolo will be back to her usual chirpy, happy-go-lucky self.

Until then, a brief definition of stupidity and embarrassment:

A friend tells you his soon-to-be other half will leave her country (she's from the Czech Republic) and come to live with him in SA. "What do you think?" he asks. "Well," I say, imagining her to be an ordinary lady like myself, "you know how hard it will be for her to find work in SA - she'll probably have to work as a waitress." "Um, no" he replies. "She's quite in demand at the moment, and will be travelling internationally on her modelling contract." D'oh!

And, an uplifting moment was had when Peas informed me that she brought a little present for me from that renowned abode of that renowned SA family: a couple of pieces of three-ply toilet paper. That should last me the rest of the week! Happy flushing, y'all...

37.5

Now there’s a number. Quite arbitrary, you might think. I beg to differ. On its own, it carries no judgement. Out of context, irrelevant. Until you ask: “37.5 what?”

37.5cm; 37.5 slabs of chocolate; 37.5 pairs of shoes; 37.5 earthworms; 37.5 light-years; 37.5 dimensions; 37.5 years old; 37.5 K salary; 37.5 carat diamond; 37.5 degrees South; 37.5 seconds; 37.5 g/cubic metre density; 37.5 kg.

Kilograms.

What could you get in 37.5 kg? 37.5 litres of Liquifruit. 37.5 one kg bags of sugar. Around 75 pairs of shoes. A huge bag of feathers. An infinitesimally small piece of a collapsed neutron star. A reasonably large pile of bank notes, in any denomination or currency you choose. Not too many copies of the King James version of the Bible.

How about a sister?