Where were you when you heard that Princess Diane was dead?

I was at a dog show in Bloemfontain — it was about 5 – 5:30am.

The dog show starts at 08h00  but you need to get there and set up and all this shit that sane people who do not go to dog shows just cannot understand.

The entire premise of dog shows is weird — it defies imagination.

I was once at a dog show which was raining so hard, I had to sit in the car with my dog.  No one chickens out of a dog show — but it was raining, like Noah’s Ark raining and I was just “fuck this” I will sit in my car until I was called.

I was showing Boston Terriers at the time, which really just need a shammie to wipe them off and you are good to go.  Easy squeezy lemon what ever rhymes with squeezy.

I sat in my cat as the heavens emptied onto the earth and watched a woman fire up the generator to fire up her hair dryer to do the final touches to her poodle.

So here is the thing — dog shows do not stop when rain falls from the heavens.  I sat and listened to this generator power up – it sounded like Eskom Level 3 output.  She dried this dog and got him sorted.

Then the dog needed to go into the ring.  Dog shows aren’t exactly hard core — but rain or shine this shit carries on. All this woman’s work, and she probably woke up at 3am to start this prep was totally washed out in about 12 seconds.

Anyway back to me and hearing about Princess Diane’s death.

We were showing Staffordshire Bull Terriers at the time — which are really easy dogs to maintain.  Quick wipe and you are done — add some vaseline to their nose and you are at the high end of maintenance.

Our SBT was pied and mainly white — so when he ran across a muddy field I had to take him and put him in the shower with me — it was just easier — then dry him off and he was good to go.   The white had to be white — until he walked in the muddy ring and was brown.  You had to be seen to actually make an effort.

He had slept the night and we needed to prep, so I took him to the field for a run — we had enough time to wash him or what ever and still get to the grounds on time.  We being me, but I am saying me like there was a fucking village behind this bullshit.

My dog was running off lead of a field.

He saw a bird and really started to run.

Like Forrest Gump run and does not slow down and runs 12 states.

I was screaming and running after him — his name was Willy — so I was screaming WILLY, WILLY, WILLY and I was running at more pace than I had.

Keep in mind it is a dead quiet morning.  Me screaming Willy in a field in the dead of the morning in Bloemfontein. Not sure that people grasped the context.  I was shit scared my dog would run off the field and keep running to Zimbabwe.

My partner was on the other sided of the field screaming that Princess Diane had died and he had to keep screaming louder because I was screaming Willy and running and thinking I was having a freaking heart attack —- it was a very confusing time.

Where were you?

Stuff that makes me snort ………. “r/roast me”

“r/roast me” posts have got to be the funniest thing going right now.

Keep in mind these are not unwitting idiots who have been innocently plucked out of obscurity — these are witting idiots.

These are idiots who decided to post a picture of themselves with a sign that says “r/roast me.”

In the event that this is not something you are aware of.  Roast me — is the equivalent of “here I am — take as much shit and throw it at me — if you can humiliate me at the same time, that would be super great. Love and kisses, bye.”

The volunteer wants to be a target for people, who are so on their A game it will bring tears to your eyes.  The commentators are people who derive all sorts of pleasure by make snarky remarks.  About said person.  And in some cases the comments are on point.

Personally I have enough problems without walking into the village square and asking people to throw smelly, mouldy fruit and vegetables at me for the general amusement of the rest of the villagers.

The people who volunteer themselves for “r/roast me” are made of stronger stuff.

This is not my absolute top ten.  I was trying to tell a friend about the first one, and I started laughing so hard, with tears streaming down my face, that I could not get the punchline out.  It took ages.  She eventually just wandered off.  That people, is the price we pay for my comedic timing.

Here are my unofficial top ten “r/roast me” — in no particular order, enjoy.  Or be wildly offended.

My number one — I still laugh every time I see this one.

Number Two

Number Three

Number Four

Number Five

Number Six

Number Seven

Number Eight

Number Nine

Number Ten

When you try to imagine yourself in someone else’s shoes …… and then you stand there in their shoes and go WTF?

There has been quite a bit of media attention around the disappearance of Anchen Muller – a 13 year old girl from Brackenfell who had told her mom she was going to an event, then staying over at a friend in Table View.

Anchen’s aunt put her details on the web over the weekend, when it became obvious no one knew where she was and there was no way to contact her.

A series of things happened that would be on the list of “what would make most parents shit in their pants” :

  • Anchen’s phone battery dies and the phone is permanently off.  (parents watching this get brown bag to start to breath into to stave off the panic attack that is looming)
  • Anchen’s mom did not have the name or number of the friend who she went with or with whom she was staying. (parents watching this uses brown bag extensively and then gets another bag as first bag has torn — also starts to throw back a few anxiety capsules)
  • Anchen’s mom did not have the address/contact details of where her daughter was spending the night or by the sounds of things a clear idea of when she was going to be coming home (other parents look at each other and go “what the fuck?” and head to the fridge for wine)
  • This shit started on Friday —- the father reports her missing on Monday.  I think this is when he found out — but I may be mistaken here.  What the hell happened between Friday and why was this only reported on Monday??
  • Your child leaves your home on Friday and if you have not heard from her by Saturday things are still cool.  In which universe does this occur???
  • This is the part I also don’t get — your 13 year old girl child leaves your home on Friday and after 24 hours of not hearing from her, or having any way to contact her, and no information you work with — you still go “Okay, well I will get a good night’s sleep on Saturday and see how this goes on Sunday?”  She is a 13 year old child —– and you have had no contact for over 24 hours and you have no contact information —— please panic on Friday already.

Short story is “She was found on Tuesday night and is unharmed” — Great. Happy Ending.

I think there were a lot of people on social media who breathed a bit lighter and hugged their own children a bit closer.  A girl of 13 pops across your facebook feed and you start looking at your own children and getting a chill.  Not a good chill, a feckn creepy one.

Could we maybe step back and look at some details and just question how things could have gone this far?  And this wrong?

I do not know Anchen, or her family.  In no way am I raining the responsibility on her doorstep — but ….. if your 13 year old (insert any age you like actually) tells you she is going out, and staying over at a friend.  And you let her exit the door without at least several hours of interrogation, various google searches, using google maps to find the house.  Getting into your car and driving to the house to ensure it exists and to speak to who ever is in the house, checking there are adults, who is sleeping where and does anyone say feature on the child molestation register —- then possibly you are falling short on parenting.  A smidgen.

Or investigative tactics — and really that is what parenting is after a certain age. Who can google shit faster and better than the other party.

As parents NOW we are better informed, and we are more aware of the dangers that face our children.  Maybe the stuff that happens now is the same stuff that happened 20 years ago – but with instantaneous information we are kept informed of each horrific incident that happens everywhere.  And it feels like our children are under permanent attack.

You can’t tell me you get “less shocked” when you hear of the violence and atrocities committed against children.  You just do not get used to that shit.

I have a 12 year old daughter — there is no way if hell froze over that I would let her walk out the door without me knowing her phone is fully charged and where she is heading.  If she walks out the door to go get something out of the garage I time her.

She would have had the lecture about keeping her phone charged, so she is always contactable.  So she contacts me every 30 – 60 minutes would be required.  If her phone was not charged, hell fire and brimstone would rain down on her.  I am close enough to being the devil I can make that happen.

I would walk out and meet the person who was fetching my child.

I would have already got the number and spoken to the person fetching my child and asked several questions around time, when, where and the how the next few hours were going to play out.

Personally I would not let my 12 year old sleep out — she stays at her dad, her granny on occasion and one friend. And that is the full extent of the people where she is allowed to stay over at.

I also have a 15 year old boy child — similar interrogation from my side if he is sleeping out.  I don’t just let him give me random information, nod and say “cool see you in two to four days….”

So back to Anchen – how does a 13 year old girl leave a house and the mom/dad/who ever is wearing the responsible pants in the house not have information on the who, what, where and so on?

How does that happen? How?

Is this the same universe where Cape Town is ranked the most dangerous city in South Africa??

Surely we read the same papers and we know that it is not a safe place out there for a girl child, or a boy child for that matter.  Actually adults are just as likely to meet an unexpected and very unpleasant end.

A 13 year old, even if she looks like a 17 year old is still a 13 year old girl child.  The public might not know that, but her parents do —- how does she get out the house??

We are talking about a sleep over here.  I would park what ever I was doing to get some clear and specific information about where my child is going.  And not as she was skipping out the door — a week before, when the plan had been hatched.

I would not trust the information I was being given — I would go and double check the shit they gave me.  Because children are children.  They are not always known for their great decision making skills, and their ability to fully comprehend the outcome of their poor decision making.

Where are you sleeping?  What is the address?  What are the parent’s names?  What are their phone numbers?

Great, let me give them a call (and this would be taking place a week before the sleep over – which my child would not be going to as she is not allowed to go for sleep overs) …. but let’s assume she is for a moment.

I would do a bit of due diligence over here.

If my child was permitted sleep overs and this was a new place I did not know — I would sure as shit not let her walk out the door before I got myself involved.

I would want to go to the house – so if she is going to an event – – then I would fetch her from the event and take her to the house and meet the parents. I would make it clear that if things were not in line when we got there I would not allow her to sleep over.

End of story.

This is the part of the story where I really start to feel uncomfortable.

How does a 13 year old leave your home without you knowing exactly where they are going — have names, numbers, stool samples and have inserted yourself at least once into driving to where she is going to be staying?

I get that we raise our kids differently and whooo-haaa for that.  But there seems to have been a serious break down of information here.

A 13 year old girl skipping out the door with out leaving any information with the responsible adult.

And there is an acceptance that it is quite normal for her phone battery do die and her to not charge her phone.  So a cut in communication for a day or more is quite acceptable.  There are not enough ways to say “fuck this shit” if it was child that girl would be stapled to the floor and not allowed to go anywhere but in circles.

I am truly glad that Anchen was found.  Truly.

How she stayed in Bishops Lavis with a guy who was 19 years old is a story I probably don’t want to hear?

Who also thought she was 19 years old leaves far, far too much to the imagination.

Somewhere on Facebook someone had written the comment : “I hope that girl gets a helluva hiding when she gets home…” and to be honest, I tried hard not to push the LIKE button on that comment.

I try to think happy thoughts of rainbows and unicorns on this story.

If this girl thinks Bishops Lavis is a cool plan, her mom thinks that no information is necessary and it takes four days to report her as missing at the police station, then odds are this family is broken in some way.  And needs some assistance.  Some support.  Some immediate help  Probably or possibly a child psychologist and family counselling would be a good start.

I don’t know the background to this story – but what I do know is : 13 year old girl, missing for 5 days, no contact information for her, no responsible person in her family had any clue where to start looking for her, found in Bishops Lavis with a 19 year old boy, spent the night.

Again I am glad that Anchen Muller made it home.  As the saying goes “may the healing begin” ………….

But holy shitballs can we please take a leaf from this horror story and relook at how much freedom we give our children and that a 13 year old girl cannot be treated like an adult.  And Bishops Lavis.


There are quite a few of these updates on the web:



If you have a child at a creche you should be reading this …. ACTUALLY ALL PARENTS SHOULD READ THIS

Get a cup of tea, or several tequilas and sit down for this …. this has been rolling around in my head so much it has to come out.  Sorry, you are going to now know it and it can drive you insane.  It has been all consuming for several days now.

I have been trying to wrap my head around this.

I still have not quite got it, but it is weighing on me as a subject.

Recently I was talking to a woman.  In short she disclosed to me that she is HIV positive – it came out almost by accident.  It was part of a totally different story, so it was not an announcement.  It was in the context of a story and it was a detail in a story.

I will be honest I was not floored by her telling me she was HIV positive.  It was the knock on effects that made my eyes go a little wider and my mouth create that worried grimace, where only plastic surgery is going to get rid of the worry lines.

She is employed at a nursery/creche/pre-school school as a nursery/creche/pre-school teacher.

She is employed at a nursery school as a nursery school teacher when she does not have an ECD qualification — none.  She takes care of 12 small children (the amount might be out by 1 or 2).  By herself.

At a nursery/creche/pre-school in a fairly upmarket suburb.

I stared at her and asked her if her employer knew she was HIV positive and she said “no” …. I sat with this for a bit.

I am not HIV positive.

I have no way of knowing what her life is about or like.  I do not know what she has been through, her struggles, what she has overcome or what she has given up.  I am not passing judgement on her or her situation, or in any way indicating that I can truly empathize with her.  There is no way I know her and what her life must be like.  I do not have the ability or right to pass judgement on her.

{Context:  Back in 1994 I worked for a company and we did a lot of advertising material for the AIDS Training and Counselling Centres – as they were known then – throughout South Africa.  The various ATICCs approached us with very little information and it meant that we had to bone up very quickly on HIV and AIDS and create advertising material that was responsible, true and put the word out about how it was spread, and how it was not spread.  It meant we had to up skill ourselves quickly in an area we knew nothing about.  I had to go and buy condoms, dissect their wrappers, and look at the instructions of how to put them on safely and create drawings.  I had never been into a store to buy condoms before, so there I was with a plastic hand basket filled to the brim with condoms.  I try not to think too hard of the chemist assistant’s face as she was thinking what the hell I had planned for the rest of the week.   I embarked on a trip to London and to Amsterdam – by myself on short notice – to go and visit centers there to see how they got the word out. What images worked, what images didn’t and so on — I am not an HIV/AIDS expert, but I understand the framework I am working in as far as a lay person can.)

So back to the person I am talking to, for ease of use, let’s call her Tina.

I am looking at this as a parent. Of children.

All Tina wants to do is work with children – you can see on her face how she lights up when she talks about the children she has worked with and works with.  This is her passion.

I sat there quietly as she spoke.  Listening to her as the noise in my head got louder and louder.

I started looking at this situation in the context of (1) A business owner (2) A parent.

I said to her that if the creche owner did not know her status and if this came out – my concern is that the damage to Tina would be huge.

I said it is one thing for a parent to know and to agree to put a child into her class.

To find out later that the teacher was HIV positive and hide it from the school, that becomes the part where parents would lose their minds.  Parents (all parents) lose touch with reality around our kids — we do, we are wired that way to protect our children even when there is an implied, but non direct threat.

We lose our shit. We. Lose. Our. Shit. In the most unattractive manner.

We totally lose our ability to be rational, and kind, reasonable functioning people.  I think any teacher or principal who has had to deal with a parent in a “difficult situation” will testify to that.

I have lost my shit at a parent-teacher meeting where I was frothing at the mouth.  It was something so randomly irrelevant it is not even worth mentioning.

Parents be freaking crazy!  Like bat shit crazy.

We are talking about small children here.  An HIV positive teacher who has not been adequately reference checked — who is not being supervised in any way.  With small children.

Even though I know that the chance of transmission rate/likelihood is so small there is barely a number for it.  Even though — I know as a parent I would want to know.

Tina is aware of her status, is knowledgeable, healthy, and she takes precautions if there are open sores or a bleed. If you speak to her she is a rational, bright woman — but that said, at certain times in our conversation I found her ability to rationalize and look at a situation from other’s perspectives as deeply immature. Again I started to worry at this juncture.

I suggested to her that there is just no way that this would end well.  Just no way I could see this going in a direction with “well” at the end.

If a parent found out I would be frightened for her.  What they would do to her?

When they turned their anger towards the school, no doubt that school is not going to defend her — they are going to be in a fighting for their own survival.

If a parent found out, and then started really looking at the situation and how the creche recruits it could “sink” this creche, this small business would close in a month or two.  There is just no way a parent of an infant or a child, would accept this — and not totally lose the plot.

I know for a fact that the owner has NOT run a police clearance certificate on Tina.

Which may mean she has not run a police clearance certificate on any of the staff that are working with children.

A police clearance certificate is not 100% proof of future behaviour, but it will tell you if someone has committed a criminal offense before.

You would want to know this if you have people working with children — especially so at a creche.  There might a groundskeeper or what ever.  It is the basis for “allowing anyone near your children” – IT IS THE BASIS FOR ALLOWING ANYONE TO WORK WITH YOUR CHILD —- ASK FOR A POLICE CLEARANCE CERTIFICATE OR ARRANGE TO GET ONE RUN IF THEY DO NOT HAVE ONE.

This is where my horror started to mount — the owner of this creche has not done due diligence on Tina.  Either this means she has slipped up once, which happens.  Or she has not done this on any of her staff.

Now this is where I really started to feel violently uncomfortable.

I explained to Tina that this stuff has a way of getting out.

I have no idea who she has told and who knows what her status is.

The part where I got even more concerned is there was an incident at the previous creche she was at – technically speaking one would label this as assaulting a child.  Technically that would be the label.  If I described the situation, it sounds minor —- but I am a parent, any assault on a child sounds deafening when it hits my ears.

As a parent I know I would sh^t myself if I knew the person looking after my infant had this on their record — and was allowed to be unsupervised with 12 children (or what ever the number is).

There is no qualified teacher in the class with her acting as an assistant teacher where she is monitored.  She has been left on her own without a proper background check, no health check, no TB test, no other checks and no police clearance certificate.


Here’s the big fat but — the incident at the previous school is something that occurred in a school that had cameras. After this incident the school had no option but to let her go.

They did not disclose this to the new employer when the employer called to check the reference.  I don’t think the new principal asked “has she ever hit or caused an injury to a child” — this should be a basic question when you are doing a reference.

The previous school should have done the right thing — but they didn’t — they wrote a glowing letter of reference and recommended her on to another creche.

Knowing everything I know. That what you now know.

There is so much wrong, unfair, grossly neglectful in this story that my brain wants to have a break from my spinal cord.

At the center of it is Tina, who is HIV positive — probably contracted when she was 23.  That is no life for anyone.  That is not fair on anyone.  Here is a woman who loves children to distraction — all she wants to do is work with children, that is all she wants to do.

But realistically, can she?  Does our social paranoia and our heightened awareness of everything around our children allow for this?

I asked Tina to approach her principal — to disclose this information on to her.  The principal has the right to know.  The parents have a right to know.  The parents must know.

Maybe the message here is for us as parents to not push the responsibility of due diligence onto those we entrust our children to.

I am not suggesting we freak out and go and do a mass burning.

I am suggesting we insist that we ask the principal of the school we have enrolled our children in for records of the teacher/s that will be looking after our children.

Reference checks, health checks and police clearance certificates checks – and anything else that would be relevant and legally available to us.  I am not sure what our rights are as parents versus the right to privacy of the teacher.

These records should exist for everyone who is at the school who has direct or indirect contact with the children.  Surely.

What do you think?

{Legally I cannot disclose Tina’s details, her school or approach her school — I can only encourage her to do this, but I cannot do this without her permission.  If you are a lawyer, and this is your area of expertise and you know differently please let me know.}


Leaving infants in cars and the Salem Witch trials …..

I was browsing through Facebook today and saw a post linking to a video that showed parents (mothers, I assume fathers never do this) how not to leave their infants in the car.

This is normally focused around running into the shop or going for a wax and deciding that maybe if your infant is sleeping, it might be good to leave the window open a gap — you know for that self regulating temperature thing – and then go into the shop/wax store, and then come back later.

{I am differentiating between leaving your infant by accident and leaving your child in the car because it is convenient}

You know in theory I can understand how this seems like a good idea.

Un-clipping the carry seat and dragging it around is not really comfortable.

An infant sleeping, should never be woken up, purely for the sanity of the parents.

It often takes you longer to “just run in quickly” rather than all the unbuckling, readjusting, finding a bottle/dummy/toy and all that.

I totally get that.

But, when you leave your infant in the car there is a certain range of things that will occur:

  1. You will be judged as lacking as a parent by anyone who walks past to find your infant alone in the car.
  2. The person you judged you as lacking is going to call a few other people over.  They are all going to stand and stare and your car and your infant, and mutter things that are unsavoury about you — and they do not even know you.
  3. They will at some point call over the mall security guy.  Now this guy will actually not really have an opinion.  He actually does not care less either way. He does not even have a gun — if he did, he might shoot himself just to get out of this situation. But he is going to be faced with half a dozen women who have worked themselves into a froth and want him to do something. This dude knows he has no right to touch your car, the baby and now he is stuck and cannot walk away.  So he will just stand there which will draw more attention to the situation.  He may even call someone on his radio and now there are two security guys staring at the car saying something like “why are white people fucking up my day ….”
  4. This is not dissimilar to how the Salem witch trials started, and when that shit starts, someone is going to be burned, and the level of actual guilt is irrelevant.
  5. Someone will take out their phone take a photograph of your car, with your registration and post it on Facebook and you will be labelled “slightly wanting” in the parenting department.
  6. Not one good thing can come out of this — not one, so why did you make this decision?

Okay, so that part will happen – what might occur is:

  1. Someone may choose to steal your car and use the fact that you have left a window open as a good way to get into your car. You understand that the person who is going to steal your car – even if it has those stupid sticky family things on it saying that god must protect your family – is not going to take the time to unclip the baby and leave it on said sidewalk.
  2. Back to guy or gal (let’s not be sexist) stealing your car – I know you put the stickie family thing on your back window and it says that god must protect your family, but he can’t do that well if you are being an arsehole.
  3. Someone might decide “hey I need a baby, and this baby does not look like it is being used, and has low mileage, so I am just going to take your baby.”  Again if you are wanting this to happen, then well done you — if not, then you are again being a bit of an arsehole.  For instance if you had a an original (not a China Town original) Louis Vuitton luggage set, would you leave it standing outside next to your car whilst you popped in to Pick ‘n Pay — and assume it is going to be there when you get back?:?  No, because you are not a stupid arsehole, you realise the luggage set costs a lot of money and someone is going to nick it.  So why do you trust the universe to keep your infant safe?  Did you get dropped a great deal on your head when you were an infant??
  4. Some idiot might accidentally drive into your car —- granted if you were in your car or out of your car, this could still occur, but imagine coming back and finding your baby mangled in car wreckage — how are you going to explain this to the god parents of your child?
  5. I am not even covering heat exhaustion and all the environmental things which could easily kill your child in 15 minutes on a really hot day —- I am parking those issues.
  6. So dude — what the fuck are you thinking — like what??  Do you remember how sore it was when this baby either exited out of your vagina or through a c-section, losing your baby is going to make these pains look like skipping through lavender.

There are series of bad situations that might occur when you leave your child unattended.

Here is the kicker, if you are reading this and you are surprised at any of the above, then how the fuck do you manage to get through the day and parallel park?

Or get your panties on under your denims every day?

I am not the best parent — some days I only just get by —- but even I am not going to leave my infant in a car unattended.  Even if I was not really that concerned with the the above, the fact that I would come back to the kloister-koek convention around my car would be reason enough to just take the child into the store with me.

If you have to watch a video on what ever platform which explains to you how not to leave your infant in a car, then NEW RULE — you really are not ready to have an infant.  Or you need to give your car keys to someone a tad more reliable than you.

If you do understand how to not leave your infant in a car, then why are you sharing this video?

Which one of your friends is that stupid that they will need this video?  And if there is that friend, then do not do a general share, tag that stupid person in your life.

This brings me back to survival of the fittest.

If you can drive a car – this means you must need to have some brain activity going on.

You managed to pass a written test, then some sort of a practical test and get the licence. You probably had to fill in a form or several, take money out of your wallet and pay someone, and get a receipt.  You may even have some sort of a loan system going, so you would have to understand interest rates and all sorts of confusing shit.

I want to almost exclude people with a CF and a CFR registration here — I drive behind these feckers nearly every day and they are like super villains.  Rules of the road and basic safety do not mean shit to these people.

They do not wear seat belts.  They swap lanes without indicating.  They reduce speed to 60km on the R300 in the middle lane for no reason — so you are bearing down on them at 120km an hour  – because they are in the fast lane —and you need to think fast or you are going to end up in their hatchback.

Their kids stand between the seats.  No seat belts.

I am particularly fond of the ones who have safety seats buckled in, but the kid is bouncing around the back seat — oh the fun for the paramedics at a later stage.

They are lost at 4 way stops.  Circles are out of their range.  How freeways works is beyond their range. They drive 60km in any damn lane they choose.  And at night they have one light in front — if you discount the inside light in the car that is on.

I don’t know why these people with these particular registration tags do this.  They are rebels — I am totally going to exclude them as I have no idea how they got their licences and how their children have lived this long.

Defies reasoning and I think there needs to be a study somewhere.  But I don’t have time for this on this blog, so let’s just exclude them and give them a few free “what the fuck are you doing” signs.

There was a series of activities going on here, which normally indicates you may have scored above 85 in an IQ test — but somehow you still manage to think that leaving your infant in a car unattended is a super good idea.

If you are that person, and I believe there are a lot of you — because SOMEONE TOOK THE TIME TO MAKE A FUCKING VIDEO AIMED AT YOU —- then please leave a comment and explain the logic here, because it escapes the rest of us.

For those who get this video on their social media stream, can I ask, you do not share this video.  It is the same as the person who does not wear a seat belt and does not buckle up their passengers.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the universe going “fuck dude, I actually can’t do anything here” and let’s leave them for natural selection to sort them out, and for their blood lines to maybe stop.

These people are not going to make it through day one of the Zombie Apocalypse, so why are we trying to save them.

There is no way in all of the green earth that this woman (embarrassingly it is always a woman) is going to come back to the car and go “thank you, you group of ranting woman for bringing attention to the fact that I left my baby in the car” …. doubtful.

Odds are she is going to tell you to go fek yourself, and then threaten you with a lawsuit (way too much television) if you take a photograph of her car.  Then she is going to reverse and hope to kill at least two of you when she does that.

This is a message at times to step back and let natural selection do what it does well.

If you are religious then look to the heavens and park this in his court, if you aren’t then shake your head say something like “m*therf*cker” and just get on with your day.  There will be one less person using our valuable water resources soon, and that is good for all of us.

I mean seriously what else are you actually going to do here?

Mom Person and Dad Person have a huge fight at the Spur — and forget there are 6 children sitting between them as they start to attempt to throw furniture around.

I saw this video footage yesterday on Facebook.

If you haven’t it will move across your feed on Facebook in the not too distant future.  It’s pretty much all over the show right now.

It has also been published on You Tube and I am supplying the link below so you can go and view the footage if you like.  My issue is that this “situation” has turned into a “Black mom vs White dad in Spur | HUGE FIGHT #HumanRightsDay” –— many of the comments start off sort of okay.

Soon the comment thread turns into a litany of racial slurs and it pretty much goes pear shaped from there on in.

I may be really naive, and I might not understand what is happening in this video, but I am not looking at it and seeing a racial interaction.

I am seeing two adults, who appear to be parents, behaving in the worst possible versions of themselves in front of their children.

I am not 100% sure who belongs to whom – the guy in the blue shirt appears to have a female partner, who is trying to calm him down without wanting to get in his way, and she has a young daughter who is being pulled backwards and forward behind the male person.

This little girl is being taught that when someone hurts her on the playground, then daddy is going to go in without any sense of restraint.

Daddy (I am assuming he is the daddy person) is further teaching her that not only is it acceptable and encouraged, but to scream and swear at someone who has upset you — but if you can show an attempt at wanting to hit that person — and then add a smirk, then that is even better.

Dad guy, what the fuck do you think you are teaching your girl child here??

Double points if you give the impression (again I am not sure of what he is capable of doing, or whether this is done for effect) that you can throw furniture around.

Daddy person is screaming, showing excessive level of violence, no self control, and is teaching his daughter it is quite okay for a grown man to attack another grown person, in this case a woman.  If Dad person can throw in a little smirk to indicate he really gives zero fucks, that is just Benoni enough for everyone.

The Woman/Mother is not innocent in this exchange.

She is sitting at the head of the table, furthest away from the Daddy person.

Seems a safe place to be — Daddy person clearly has been working out on “arm day” and seems to have double upped on what ever medication that makes you really get totally fucked off whilst at a Spur.

Mother person is not going to sit there and take shit from Daddy person.  No, fuck that, she spurs this situation (see what I did there?) on and it escalates.

I wish to remind you if you do not see it, but there are SIX FUCKING CHILDREN BETWEEN HER MOUTH AND THIS GUYS FISTS.

As you watch the video you notice two of the kids dive over the furniture to move to another seat with a bit more space between them and the ranting Father person.  The other four children just sit there in stunned silence.

This is the part where I totally lose my shit.

Daddy person is an arsehole with some impulse control problems.  I have also been at a Spur where some kid was attempting to beat the shit out of my child.

Unfortunately the Spur assistants/helpers cannot lay a hand on any child, because that will set off the Apocalypse.

I have also felt the urge to go over and beat the child and the parent who did not monitor their child senseless.

This is my Spur story —- no violence unfortunately, but an overriding urging to say the F word, but I didn’t — I was in the kids play area and going off my face at a delusional mother seemed the less ideal place and time.

  1. I have often felt the over riding urge to slap parents at the Spur upside the head  — however I have realised that there is no way this situation will end well, and the best thing to do is if you feel you have some restraint is to go over and mention it to the mom/dad calmly  —- but in the three occasions I have done this, I have never had a calm response.
  2. In the one incident this child was climbing on the half wall in the play area, she was a fairly solid 5 year old girl.  The Spur Assistant probably said to her a dozen times “please do not climb on the wall” – but this little girl gave zero fucks and was jumping off the wall only the bouncy castle.  And with her bulk, the bounce would bounce everyone else who did not weight in at 60 kilograms right off the castle.  In my case Georgia who was just over two years old.
  3. I asked the little girl to stop doing in — I swear to you it was in the nicest voice I had.  This little girl ignored me totally and climbed back on the wall, to redo the exercise.  Again this is after me already going to peel Georgia off the glass – which was where she had been bounced to and put her back on the bouncy castle.
  4. So here was little girl again — doing the same thing, that the Spur Play Assistant had repeatedly asked her not to, and I was now into my second or third explanation that she was not allowed to jump from the wall, and explaining to her – again really nicely — that she was going to hurt the other children.
  5. She just got ready to launch herself again.
  6. Her parents are sitting at a table right next to the play area, right next to the glass, so they can see their liebchen launch herself off the wall.
  7. I put my hand on her ankle — I just put my hand on her ankle — I did not squeeze it or hurt her —- though I did feel an overwhelming urge to push her backwards so she would fall on her stupid head off that fucking wall. But I resisted — I looked around like I was looking for her parents, but no one was coming.  I rested my hand on her ankle and said again “please climb off this wall, you are not allowed to jump off this wall.”
  8. She looked at me rather sulkily, climbed off the wall and left the play area.
  9. I thought, great, that was handled quite well. The Spur Assistant smiled a thank you and I continued to watch Georgia not be thrown against the glass.
  10. Then the mom came in with her crying child.  The mom was accusing me of hurting her child and scratching her and causing her an injury.  The mom was going off her face.  The child of course was now crying along, because the more she cried the more upset the mom got at me.
  11. You know when  you think you are being “punked” and you stand there with a bit of a smile, then you realise actually you aren’t.
  12. I tried to explain to this mom who was basically accusing me of child abuse that I did not hurt her daughter, I put my hand on her ankle as SHE WAS TRYING TO JUMP OFF THE FUCKING WALL ONTO THE BOUNCY CASTLE which is where children who did not weight 60kgs were playing.
  13. The mom however did not see this as being a problem.
  14. Somehow my resting my hand on this child’s foot, because her fucking ears weren’t working and I thought if she could just listen to me and stop doing the jumping then we could all be lekker.
  15. She also did not recognise that her daughter had been told more than a dozen times not to jump off the wall.
  16. The mom was not going to calm down — I seriously stood there and tried to calm her down, but she was already into the “I can see no reason here because you abused by child…”
  17. So, the reason you have heard this story, is because I do not touch someone else’s child.
  18. I however do lean in and talk to them in a menacing voice that scares the living shit out of them.  I feel fuck all — if it stops a kid who is repeating a behaviour, that may cause my child harm or another child, and parents who do not manage their children, then I am happy to step up and give them a little whisper.

This video footage is being painted as a racist incident.

This is a bad parenting incident and both parties behaved badly.

The Mommy person for me is actually the biggest problem — she is responsible for 6 children.  I am not sure if they are all hers.  It does not matter, they are with her and she is responsible for them.

She is escalating a situation between herself and a man person, who is clearly strong and angry enough to do some damage.  She continues to escalate the situation and remains on the far end of the table with 6 children between her and the aggressor.

Listen, if you feel you have to get involved in a fight, or want to take on someone at the Spur or where ever you hang out.  Totally up to you.

When you are doing it with six children in the way between you and a clearly escalating situation, then you clearly, clearly have lost the fucking plot, and you have shown yourself to be lacking. In every possible way.

The Man Person is an arsehole.

I appreciate he is unhappy because his daughter has been hit or assaulted in the play area.  If you have been to a Spur Play Area, you will realise this is a common occurrence.  It is not pleasant or right, but it happens.  There are loads of children playing.  There is generally no parent supervision and the Spur Play Assistant has very clear rules that she cannot physically touch a child.

The Man Person should have gone over to the Woman Person and said “May I talk to you for a moment please?” and then pointed out the problem, and a suggestion of how to resolve the situation.

The Woman Person when feeling attacked by the Man Person should not have got her shit on and seen how she can escalate this — she has 6 children in her care.

6 children watching this.

6 children at risk to an injury by  a demented guy who is being pushed and pushed, and looks like he could flip a fucking Spur Table over with just a bit of motivation.

If Woman Person wants to get into a rumble, then she needs to leave the table, and move this situation away from these children.  Stop to get someone to oversee the kids whilst she takes this “rumble in the fucking suburbs” outside.

But no — she remains behind 6 children and continues to turn this from a minor fracas to a total shit storm

Both adults handled this badly.

I  feel both he and she should be banned from Spurs.  I do not think he is more wrong than her, I think they both acted irresponsibility.  And no doubt feel they are both in the right.

I have seen people comment about how it is Spur’s fault and they should have got involved.  Please can we stop doing this – disolving the guilty party of guilt and assigning it to someone else.  Spur is not to blame here — these two people in this video are to blame.

Individually.  And together.

The rest of the cast are guilt free —- let’s keep the blame where it belongs.

Let’s also not turn this into a racist thing — sure there were racist slurs thrown, it can be expected.  But this was not a black/white thing.  

This was bad parenting.  Bad adulting.  And bad conflict resolution.

I really hope that somewhere in this there is a neutral party who can discuss and unpack what there children have witnessed.

I think that is where I am naive, I think these children will just absorb this into their psyche and think it is okay for grown ass adults to physically fight with each other, call each other names and basically behave badly —-


I am still excited about voting ……….

It is the run up to the Municipal Elections on Wednesday.

I have checked I am on the roster. I know where I must vote. I have my ID book.

I am excited at the prospect of voting.  I am looking forward to Wednesday.

I have been given this right because there were thousands of people who fought for my right to vote, and who died to ensure that it is something that is given to every citizen of this country.

A hundred years ago (far less, but that is not what this is about) as woman, irrelevant to what my colour was, I did not have the right to vote.  My voice did not get a chance to be heard.

I was born in 1972.  I lived through the apartheid era.

I lived through some of the worst times in South African history, but I am one of the lucky ones.  I got to live through it.  I got to see our mistakes.

I got to be proud when we became a democratic country with a democratic elected president.

I got to stand in the queue when millions of people who had never had a chance to vote, got that chance.

I remember that day.  And every time I stand in a queue, I smile because I remember how monumental that day was.

And it makes me happy.  And proud of how far we have come.

I also remember how so many people felt we would go the same way as Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, how we needed to prepare for the biggest civil war ever experienced, how “they” were going to come and take our properties, our lives and our children.

Then we voted.  And we went home.

It was okay.

I am not denying that we have experienced our share of violence, political or otherwise – we are not a perfect country.

I am not suggesting that it has all been unicorns and rainbow farts.  I am however getting really exhausted by the amount of shit that is shared on Facebook.

Any article that indicates that this election may not be free and fair is shared, and shared and shared some more.

Does anyone actually stop and read the article, properly and then ask themselves, what benefit is there in sharing this crap? This information that at a glance can be seen as total twat material?

So why do you choose to share it.  What good will come out of sharing this shit on your time line?

No, it appears that the joy is in the sharing.

The adding to the “noise” that our elections are flawed and do not matter.

That my vote has no value.  That your vote has no value.

My future is in my hands on Wednesday.  I get to cast my vote — my vote.

And everyone else in South Africa gets to do the same thing.

Can South Africans who are not fleeing to Canada this week, just take a breath.  Remember how far we have come.  What we have achieved.

What we have become, even when everyone expected flames and blood shed.

I am going to case my vote on Wednesday.

I am telling my children that I get a chance to have my say in the direction that this country heads.  I get one vote.  I try to make them excited every year about voting, so that when they turn 18 they want to run up and vote —- not sit back with glazed eyes and mumble apathy.

What are you teaching your children by putting this shit on your time line and breathing out this negativity?

You get to vote.  Even after all the shit you have shared on FB, you get to vote too.

Instead of wasting your time sharing shit on Facebook, stop, go and do some actual research.  Ignore the big headline with the crap copy in it.

Start for once to believe that South Africa is probably the best place to live — well it is for me.  I am not blind to what is wrong in this country, but I am optimistic that South Africa should not be discounted just yet.

Listen if Canada rings your bells, then take a flight and go there.  Like now.

But try not to piss in the pool that the rest of us are sitting in with our G&T’s whilst we wait to cast our votes.

Wednesday is coming —- cast your vote!!



“The whole mall is fucked up …”

“The whole mall is fucked up …” truer words have never been uttered before by a spokesperson – alive or dead.


Godfrey Mashakgomo, we salute you.  I have spend time stalking you, and I am really hoping this is the first of many many “take no shit” approaches to things that are fucked up.

You are our hero, our oracle.

I am not sure how you are still a Mall spokesman — I personally think you should be snatched up by a corporate who give you free rein.  They won’t need to tell you to speak the truth, because your truth is unquestionable at this moment in time.

I admire your use of the word FUCK.  Eloquent.  Not too vulgar, just the right amount of “see what happens when you put a few million liters of water on a mall roof” and I think we can agree that more people have read about Tembisa Mall that would have had you erred on the side of “right speak” ……

When you say “the mall is fucked up” I immediately understand the extent of the problem.  I saw the pictures of the roof, you are right that mall is fucked up …… there is just no better way to say it than you did.

I get it.

I see it.

If I had more PR companies that contacted me and said “listen this product is total shite, but give it a go, you may like it, we fucking hated it over here —- but see what happens …. write a review, don’t write a review, we actually do not give a fuck” ……….. I would probably be more inclined to actually read the press releases, and possibly even take a sniff of the formaldehyde.

Unfortunately their well worded emails bore the shit out of me, and I want to run them over with my car.  It would be a mercy killing.  They show no signs of life anyway.

Godfrey Mashakgomo — well done.  Well fucking done!!!!  You have put Tembisa mall on the map.

I hope that people are scrambling over each other to offer you spokesman position — actually fuck spokesperson positions, maybe you can just be a commentator on the political situation or something ……  I can’t think what, but I have a feeling we have not heard the last of you (I pray we have not heard the last of you).


its all fucked up


Read the original comments here:


And see the picture of the mall that is “fucked up” …………

Dog fighting is a strong indicator of a society in decay ….

{article supplied by the Cape of Good Hope SPCA/DBV}

Join the fight against dog-fighting!

Dogfighting is illegal in South Africa in terms of the Animals Protection Act No. 71 of 1962 (2) (A) but the progression of this activity to the level of organised crime makes this hard to infiltrate.

We need our communities to be vigilant and to report incidences of suspected dog fighting without hesitation.  You may make a report anonymously and you can be assured of our secrecy.

DogFighting Poster


Dogfighting is not only a problem of cruelty to animals; dogfighting is also part of a criminal subculture that can involve other criminal activities such as illegal gambling, drug related crimes, theft as well as contributing  to the destruction  of  communities. Illegal gambling is an inherent part of a dogfight, and because money changes hands, weapons are common on the scene.

Children are often present, and besides the inherent danger of the situation to a child, their witnessing such premeditated acts of cruelty lead to an ever growing desensitization to violence.

 as it promotes and encourages a culture of non-empathy.

Contrary to popular belief dogfighting, which originates in Europe, is not limited to gangsters and informal settlements, it in fact transverses all segments of the South African population.

  • “Street”fighters, often associated with gangs or unemployed youth, engage in dog fights that are local, informal street corner and back alley spontaneous events triggered by insults, turf invasions or simple boredom.
  • “Hobbyist”fighters are slightly more organized, with their average ability dogs participating in a number of organised fights a year as a side-line for both entertainment and to attempt to supplement income. They tend to breed their dogs extensively and have a ready supply of puppies for sale.
  • “Professional”dogfighters tend to breed, raise, train and fight their own dogs at a set location in matches arranged well in advance. They operate nationally and pay particular attention to establishing and promoting their own winning bloodlines.


Most dogs used for organised fighting purposes in South Africa are . Historically bred and known for their known for their courage, loyalty, high energy levels and non-aggression towards humans. These traits, which make well-bred and well-trained pit bulls good companions, have unfortunately been exploited by a criminal element, unscrupulous breeders and by irresponsible owners and trainers who encourage unbridled aggression in their animals via both their abusive training methods and the introduction of human aggression via crossbreeding.

Abusive training/ management methods include:

  • Pit bull dogs that do not exhibit suitable fighting potential or are reluctant to fight sometimes have their mouths taped shut and are used as bait dogs for dogs in training. One bait animal can be used repeatedly for this purpose. A bait animal’s teeth may also be removed to prevent the fighting dog from getting injured.
  • Due to many of these animals being highly reactive and dog aggressive natural breeding is not possible so to breed and ensure the longevity of a bloodline and the income that this generates, an inhumane rape stand is used. This involves strapping down an unreceptive female Pitbull onto a purpose built rack so that she is unable to move or refuse a mating by a male.
  • Chains and Weights:Dogs have very heavy chains and weights wrapped around their necks, so that they build neck and upper body strength by constantly bearing the immense weight of the chains.

pit2-300x300 pit1-300x300








Dogs that are born, bought or stolen for fighting purposes are often neglected and abused from the start. Most spend their entire lives alone on chains or in cages, only knowing the attention of a human when they are being trained to fight, only know the company of other animals in the context of being trained to attack and kill them.

In the fight against dog fighting our Inspectorate is currently engaging with the SAPS to bring a halt to this crime and to curb the trafficking of animals to Angola and Namibia.

In the last financial year alone, we investigated almost 8 000 cases of animal cruelty, many of these involved either the suspicion of dog fighting or were in response to tip-offs of dog fights in progress.


Support – their events, and their campaignscape of good hopehttps://www.facebook.com/CapeofGoodHopeSPCA/

When do you tell your children about the wolf in the forest?

little red riding hood


The brutal and senseless rape (I am sure there are several other terms I should apply here, but let’s leave it at that for now) and murder of Franziska Blöchliger has affected us all.

I think we got lulled there for a bit thinking that the never ending summer and sunshine, and the carefree world we inhabited was real.

As South Africans we are all too aware of the rate of murder, rape and general disregard for life in our country feels like it is at an all time high.

If you read the news, listen to the news or read a street sign with the headlines of papers, you soon realise that this bubble we have created is just a bubble, and sooner or later it will go the way of all bubbles.

Burst apart and leaving us feeling exposed.  And then reality will creep in.

I know bad things happen.

I know there are some really bad people out there.

I know that innocent people die at a staggering rate, each day in this country.

I know.

But life distracts us with the stuff that we need to do to get through the day.

If you are like me, you get caught up in your day to day life of paying your accounts, ensuring that your TELKOM account is not cut off.  You do not run out of wi-fi before month end and you somehow manage to get through the day with all three children still alive, and your sanity intact.

Trying to understand your child’s mathematics home work so you can help, and basically doibg everything you can to just get through the day, so you can fall in to bed and go “fuck I survived that day,” and then set your alarm to wake up and do it all again.

Being caught up in THAT stuff makes you forget about the “other stuff” that is happening out in the world.

If I had to know how many children are raped each day — how many high school children are bullied, beat up and in some cases left for dead every day, I think I would not be able to function.

If I had to know how many children go to school hungry and leave the day with no education, and still hungry, I would probably end up in a catatonic state.

I would not be able to worry about my car sitting in the repair shop forever.   And the “surprise” bill I will be getting soon.

I would not be able to worry about all the other million things I worry about each day.  Which appear trifling now.

I watched a video earlier this week of a child in high school bullying another child in high school.  There were no weapons involved, it was some boy smacking another boy around.

The video made me feel ill and left me uneasy.   I had to stop before the end —

My son is in high school.  I think when you see something that you can easily relate to your own child or your home situation, it strikes a chord and your world gets a little wobble.

I did not bookmark the video and tried to go back to see if I could find it to link it here — but instead I found hundreds of others that made me realise that I cannot actually take in what the media (social or otherwise) is presenting to me each day.

My brain exists in its own bubble.

I cannot have that bubble burst.  That bubble not only protects me from little scrapes and scratches, that bubble {also} insulates me against the real world.

I know there is a wolf in the woods.  Red riding hood made it quite clear in her story.

The fable warns us to always remain on the path.  Not to stop and pick flowers and not to talk to strangers.  The story that has been passed on for generations gives us the message “stay safe” if you follow these rules.

Franziska Blöchliger followed the rules.  She was with her family on a well known path, We have all walked through Tokai forest. There are hundreds of people who run/jog/horse ride there every day.

Normally you are looking for tree roots that will trip you up and your biggest concern is falling and scuffing your knee.

At which point in this conversation do we start to talk to our children about what actually exists in the forest?

Do we tell them that they could be brutalized.  Raped. Sodomized. Murdered. And their bodies discarded a few hundred meters from their families who are happily walking.

Do we tell our children to be extra careful?

How do we tell our children that this is the forest that they face, and we cannot, even as their parents, protect them from what lives in the forest?

Sharon van Wyk over at The Blessed Barrenness  wrote this blog post that went viral, and basically ruled the world – http://www.theblessedbarrenness.co.za/dear-mr-mrs-blochliger/ …. I read this blog post and it made me profoundly sad.  Just sad.

I was not angry.  I did not give myself the space to think that “that” could have been my child.  One of my girls.  I was sad at the inhumanity.  At the fact that nothing you can do can protect your children.  Even if they are a few metres away from you.

We are at the mercy of what lives in the forest.

I felt this weight of sadness.  I kept thinking what and when do I tell my innocent girls that there is this horror in the world that exists.

Do I tell them so they can protect themselves?

Do I tell them so that they see this as a warning never to stray out of my eye sight until they are …. what, what age is it safe for your child to jog down a well known path in a well known area of forest?

This walk in the woods was not a fairy tale with a happy ending.

It is just filled with horror and indescribable pain and heart-ache.

I do not think any of us who heard the Franziska was unaffected.  It made us all sad, weary and exhausted.  I think as a nation we all cried – not symbolically – but with real tears at a waste of a life.  A child killed.

I usually talk to my children about things that happen in the news, so we can break the events down, discuss them and they can understand what is happening in the world.

I cannot tell my children about what happened to Franziska Blöchliger.

I cannot tell my children that I cannot protect them from the monsters that murdered Franziska Blöchliger.

My son is two years younger than Franziska Blöchliger.

Do I break his bubble and tell him about what can happen to a girl walking in the forest, who felt safe and protected. Until she wasn’t.

Should I tell him that he is not safe — anywhere.

I am absolutely without any power to protect my children.

The wolf in the woods has proved that he lurks and waits, and nothing you do can stop him if he is going to take you.

How do I explain this in terms that my son and daughters will understand, when I cannot understand it.

What do we tell our children?



Three men formally charged for Franziska Blöchliger’s murderEarlier today, police confirmed three men were being questioned in connection with the murder.





So this Scotsman gets on his bike ……

It does sound much like the beginning part of a joke, but the punchline, I am almost sure involves an arse that goes numb forever and no doubt a case or two of malaria, or some other ailment.  Unfortunately I do not think of unicorns and glitter farts when I think about biking across Africa.  Cycling from across Cape Town will probably result in you losing your bike, and that is all, if you are lucky.

My brother Bruce is one year one month older than me —- so my mom didn’t exactly wait long between child two and child three, but that is another story.  For another day.

Bruce it appears is far braver than I would be ever.

Bruce has decided to get his arse on a bike and cycle from Glasgow to Cape Town, and he starts this little jaunt on the 19 November 2015.

No, unfortunately not on a dare made at a pub late at night, it’s an e-bike, and unless e stands for e-toll then I am pretty much out of this technically speaking.

The story was published in SCOTLAND NOW


The one on the right is Bruce MacLeod the one on the left is his e-bike.  I have a feeling that the bike and his nether regions are going to build a long, and lasting relationship over the next few months.

CYCLING from your workplace back home doesn’t sound like a huge challenge but it is for Scots businessman Bruce MacLeod – as his hometown is in South Africa!

The adventurer sets off on his epic 12,500-mile (20,000km) journey from Glasgow to Cape Town, SA, next week (November 19) as he attempts to smash a world record for the furthest distance travelled on an electric bicycle (e-bike) pulling a solar trailer.

If he completes the expedition, which will be split into two legs (Glasgow to Paris and Paris to Cape Town), he will set another record – and become the first person to cycle the length of Africa on en e-bike.

By doing so, he hopes to raise awareness and funds for the Purple Heart Network (www.phn.org.uk ), a climate change charity he co-founded this year to address social and environmental injustices at home and across the globe.

Father-of-two Bruce, who is of Scottish descent and was born in Cape Town, said: “When I tell people about my plan they say ‘I wouldn’t do that, why are you doing it?’

“I know I am not 22 anymore. I am a 44-year-old who has a young family, a new business and responsibilities, but this is my last hooray to craziness! It is now or never.

“I am not even a cyclist! But this challenge doesn’t require me to be, I just have to go from A to B. I am a strong person physically and I have a strong frame of mind.”

Bruce admits to having lived a life of adventure – he even applied to be a Cowboy in Montana – but he has never attempted anything so ambitious, until now.

Read more here >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 


So that’s what my brother is up to.  Yours?

When grannies rock.paper.scissors it on dating sites ….

I found this thread running on Facebook.

You know the place where “if you love your sister” image pops up, and you are emotionally blackmailed into sharing a horrendously photoshopped image, just so everyone knows you love your sister/dog/cat/granny/aunt or what ever else.

That Facebook.

I found this thread last night and holy shit balls it gave me so much joy.

It is parading itself as images from a Russian dating site.

Initially the images were the only things that were funny, but as the day has progressed the comments have got downright hilarious and without a doubt this has been my favourite image of the day.

Here is the image:


granny_dating sites

I think I might have found my tribe.

Check the comment that ran just on this image:



You can go and look at these comments and the others over at : https://www.facebook.com/hintmag/photos/pcb.10156191321425261/10156191308660261/?type=3&theater

Here are a few more of the images that were posted, and no, I do not understand what is going on here either – let me know which is your favourite, or don’t and log onto Russiancupid.com and send the person a message:



































I do have stuff to blog about … but now I am out of time …. so just quickly now

There have been some really cool things that have happened, which I do want to blog about – but things are a little bit hectic on the work/earning money to buy bread and cheese front, so I just have not had a chance to sit down and put some words into any sort of order.

Quick update/overview/shit I am sorry, there is just not enough time to get more words together:


Everest 3D : Say this recently at @numetro.  Holy shitballs was this a good movie.  It was brilliant.

The film opened the 72nd Venice International Film Festival on September 2, 2015, and was released theatrically on September 18, 2015.[4] It is based on the real events of the 1996 Mount Everest disaster, and focuses on the survival attempts of two expedition groups, one led by Rob Hall (Clarke) and the other by Scott Fischer (Gyllenhaal).

I still sat at the edge of my seat the entire way through.  I contacted a friend John who has been up Everest and a few other vertical shaped mountains and he commented that the terrain was very “real” — I took that to mean, yep, it is almost the exact same as being there.

You know how you see something amazing then you go “I want to do that one day” — this was nothing like that.  I am quite happy here on sea level, without having to dig up possibly empty oxygen bottles in the snow.  Yep, later for that as a plan. But great movie.

Blog Meet-Up : There was a blog meet up.

Not like a big thing with gift bags and awkward sponsor product discussions, but the kind where you drink wine and argue about whether it is okay to test beauty products on animals or whether we should just eat them and turn them into shoes.

It was actually just a lovely dinner with girls who blog, used to blog, might never blog again siting and shooting the breeze.  I can honestly say I liked everyone.  The one thing we had in common was we all seemed to dislike other people.  Which is sort of sweet, endearing and could be a very successful Valentine’s Day card.

Sharon blogged about it here – http://www.theblessedbarrenness.co.za/we-went-away-i-came-home-fatter/

Here is the photograph of us ….. for reasons that are unclear the entire universe appears warped and we all have zombie eyes in various stages of “I am going to eat your face….”


It really was a lovely evening.

Apologies for the not quite everyone smiling at the same time — it was that point where cameras were going off, you did not know where to look, to smile and well you needed to sip your wine because your face was getting sore sort of moment.

I made a huge leap in my work life : I have been planning, thinking, trying to motivate myself to start a training arm of my business, but to be honest I have just been too damn scared.

I kept finding reasons why not to, which all started with “yes, I know, but………..” and then I didn’t.  I did my first training workshop today.  I felt sick with the ”
worry of failure” and could only imagine this turning into one huge disaster.

It wasn’t.  It was really great.  I walked away from today’s session knowing I had made a difference in these women’s lives.  Even if it was a small one.

It really made me feel good.  I wanted to high five myself for finally getting it done and starting.

Jana from Moomie:  I am meeting with Jana from Moomie later this month.  She sold the idea as me meeting her for coffee.  I have not broken it to her I do not drink coffee, but getting together for a Rooibos sounds a tad insipid, so I just went with it.

Jana is now talking about a youtube interview ……. right, that should not go well at all.

Will keep you updated if it goes well, I look fabulous and can form words.  Alternatively we shall just never speak of this again.

Right now : I have a touch of light flu.  I have a large wine glass in hand, I am aiming to a hot bath (because by now hopefully the geyzer will have hot water ….. the challenges of living with a dozen bodies) and I am going to lie there and read my book.

In case you are not aware there is the Nando’s Presents Mass Hysteria 2015, Artscape Theatre Centre (14-25 October) – tickets range between R185.00 and R270.00 per person.  I love stand up comedy, so I am really looking forward to the show. Pop along and grab some tickets > or see if you know a sponsor who can organise you a set of freebies. {I do not know anyone of that inner circle.}



Okay that is enough from me.



I actually just wanted to just post this little meme – then I got carried away and wrote stuff.  It made me laugh.  Things that tap into my warped version of reality make me smile.



Later chickens, I need to find some hot water and lie in a bath until I fall asleep.

For him to find.

I have been a bit distracted as of late with putting together blog posts, so I do apologise for that.  I haven’t quite got over the writer’s hump I am feeling, so not sure when it will be “programming as usual” ….. it won’t be today.

I have however decide to shamelessly steal this from For Reading Addicts …. but I went along to look where it had come from originally:

When I worked at BMP, the Head of Television commuted in from
Brighton every day.
He started reading The Exorcist on the train.
He said he thought it was the most evil book he’d ever read.
In fact, he said it was so evil he couldn’t finish it.
So, at the weekend, he went to the end of Brighton pier and threw
it as far as he could.
So I went to the bookshop.
I bought another copy.
Then I ran it under the tap.
And left it in his desk drawer.
For him to find.
As Dawn French says, “If it’s funny it’s not bad taste. And if it’s bad taste it’s not funny.”

Credit to the source: Dave Trott’s mischievous seeding of Creative Mischief
Read more at http://adland.tv/ad-books/dave-trotts-mischievous-seeding-creative-mischief#EsCJtFRs2LmfWLAp.99

Atelophobia …… Did you know this was even a thing?



Where do I sign up for this club?  You know how you thought you were just crazy and had insane thoughts, then you find out there is an actual word for it.


A bit like this.


People lost their minds when I threw a cake out of the window.

People. Lost. Their. Minds.

I do think all of those people with a few more insane neighbours got together and established this group on Facebook “South Africans Against Dagga and Satan” – I don’t know much about dagga, but when exactly was it linked to Satan, but there is a group here with that being a clear link.

Are we not linking sacrificing virgins, and graffiti and I don’t know cauliflower rice to Satanism?

How did we exclude everything else that makes up the 10 commandments, but somehow manage to get left with dagga and Satanism?

Well that is the groups name, but today they have decided that #stikeez are the work of the dark underlord ….

I guess if you give it a title and a Facebook page, you can make it so – this one truly exists with nearly 16 000 members.

I am a bit shocked to see people who I know on this site, but I am going to assume they are there for investigative journalism reasons or pushed like purely to see what the fuck else they come up with.

They ran this post:  {if it is meant to be satire and using humour, it has failed — if it is actually a really warning against an association with #stikeez and satanism, then dear god we need to all have some medication and a little lie down}


Recently, we have been receiving reports regarding small toys, given to children by tellers at an ubiquitous South African supermarket.

We decided to investigate.

“These things are disgusting!” So says a renowned demonisticologist we approached, who prefers to stay anonymous due to his reasonable fear of the all-powerful Pick n Pay management.

“These ‘Stickeez’ are clearly miniature demons,” he continues. “There can be absolutely no doubt these are not harmless toys but satanistic fetishes, designed to soften up our children for subsequent satanic penetration.”

{RM : Satanic penetration ….. erm, this is starting to make me uncomfortable}

Why is Pick n Pay trying to get our children involved in the occult? Are they also behind the recent emergence of the Mozambican demon game “Charlie Charlie” in our schools? The answers to these ‪#‎important‬ questions remain unclear.

One thing is definitely NOT unclear, however:


{RM : Well, there we go, I guess we are all in this together and need to go out and buy a set of cloven hooves and possibly a horn thing ………I don’t know how this works ….. is it an automatic membership as soon as you give them one stikeez or do you wait until you get your membership card in the mail …….. I am so confused}


Please also note that, thanks to the amazing technical prowess of Pastoor Hennie, you can now use a simple and secure online ordering system to buy ‪#‎OFFICIAL‬DAGGA CONFISCATOR and ‪#‎SLATTERN‬ t-shirts and vests online, using a credit card or instant EFT.

Simply go to: http://officialsaads.wix.com/store

Personally this seems like a rather weak attempt to sell some rather sad t-shirts.  However I do see the value of the Official Dagga Confiscator …. sounds official …. must be legit.


I feel sorry for Larry at about this point.  There is just no way he could have seen it going this way.

{the real possibility exists that this is a fake page — but then what am I missing —- why take the effort to put together a Facebook Page that is neither funny or clever ….. again feel free to let me know what I am missing, as I am missing this entire thing }

Woolworths stepping up to a change in the way they merchandise their store ….


I have written about Woolworths on several occasions – in general I am quite complimentary.

They are my sole supplier of Chuckles, and then there is their rotisserie chicken which is actually finger looking good — not like the other chicken, which once eaten makes you want to deeply consider retching as an option to finish the meal.

I have as usual strayed away from my point.

I can’t recall where this original conversation started but the discussion was about the way Woolworths (and most retailers) pack the small, impulse purchases along the line of where you are waiting for a till to open up.

And the mayhem it creates with parents with young children.

I for one, have often thrown in items whilst standing in that same queue that I do not need, but I do that “eeeehhh” sound and then toss it in my trolley.

It happens.  It’s a phenomenon that has been observed among shoppers, and it’s the reason that Woolworths and other retailers do it.

Basically retailers know so much about us and our behaviour that they arrange their stores using various models to ensure they aim us to the product we probably want.

I love the idea of retail psychology and why we behave a certain way.  There are words like “bum brush” and it appears it is not only me that smells clothing as part of the retail process.

We are all animals, who behave along a fairly clear line of expected behaviour.  Sure there will be the odd person who comes along and goes left instead of right (or right before left) on entering the store.  I can’t recall which is the correct way we “naturally” go and stores design and merchandise accordingly.

The point of the matter is they (the retailers) know what we are going to do, they guide us to do it, and then place products in front of us that we cannot resist.

This long intro brings us to the of RUNNING THE GAUNTLET to the till to pay when the aisles are stacked 3 or 4 levels high with sweets.

You can hear the whining all the way down the aisle, the teeth gnashing and the eventual reverting to crying in frustration.

And that is just from the parents.

Usually the “let’s part with a lot of money after this queue” moves reasonably quickly, but no matter how quick it goes you will have a child going “Mooooooommmmmmmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee …….. I waaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnttttt this, can I have thiiiiiiiiiiisssssssssssss……….. please, mommie please, mommie please… ”

Mommie is repeated to the point, where ever human being is now staring at that child, thinking ugly thoughts.

“Mommie please” is usually done in an escalating whining voice, dragging each vowel out, and only stops after sufficient people have turned around to stare at the child (not the mother, we all feel for the mother) but we stare at that child a bit like those children act in The Village of the Damned.  Group “think” and together we are hoping that that child instantly falls asleep.  Or disappears.  Which ever is easiest.

Not dead sleep, just sufficient sleep immediately so the whining can stop.

{this is without a doubt why I wear a head set permanently and listen to music at a volume which could be referred to as slightly too loud}

We feel for the moms and dads ….. because shit balls it is not an easy adventure. If you have kids and you have attempting to leave the house to exchange money for goods, then this has happened to you.

If it hasn’t, then either you are lying or you are really able to switch off to your child like no one’s business.

I have a very simple theory about whining and it is probably rooted in my theories behind dog training.

If you are seriously thinking about having a child, get a dog, say three years before.

Spend the time training your dog until you have a well behaved dog who listens to commands, goes outside when you say, does not hop onto the furniture unless invited and also does not fucking eat the couch when you are out.

Dogs are a fabulous introduction to having a child.  There are many similarities.  Seriously if you can get it right with a dog, train them, having a loving relationship with them, but they still know you are the alpha male, then you are nearly 80% there to parenting.

Children are basically designed to get what ever they want.  Do you think they are made with those super big heads, large innocent eyes and the pout so they are good at manual labour?  No.

They are designed to play on our emotions — which may also explain why Donald Trump has done so much with so little and continues to up to this point.  Potential President Elect?  I think that is the sound of the four horses of the Apocalypse right there <makes clippety clop sound with coconut shells from Monty Python skit>.

I know the right words are “guide” and “nurture” but it is almost the same thing.  You are teaching your child not to go outside when you say no, not to climb onto the table when you say no, not to lick the dog when you say no, and most importantly not to fucking eat the couch.

The trick to training a dog, and a child, is to never give in. Not once.

Once you have set a rule/a line/a this is as far as this shit is going to go vantage point.  Then stick to it, even though you want to give in.  Even if you decide “listen I am so over this shit, just let the child have 100kg of straight sugar and I will mainline it in ….” even then, stick to your guns.  Hold back.  Hold firm.


Once you give in, your child learns that the issue is not whether you will give in or not, because you are going to give it —- eventually —- you have just proven that, the question is simply “when” — and when means that the whining and crying needs to be kept up until the point is reached where you go “fuck it, have it already….”

Kids are clever little people.  Even though they have mucus on their faces and can sit in their faeces for 3 hours and have little in the way of verbal communication.  Babies are baisically lumps of lard we carry around for months before they start to exhibit some sort of a personality and are able to keep some of their body secretions inside their body.

When I look at babies I am often left wondering “how the fuck did we become the top predator in this food chain ……. I mean crikes ……….”

Back to the original point – parents trying to get through a stressful shopping experience, after work, trying to rush home before they get food going and having to keep saying NO, NO, NO, NO the entire way down the check out aisle is exhausting. Add a second or third child into that trolley and it becomes the Jim Rose Circus in no time.

For them.  For us.  For everyone except the retailer who is going to get a few “fuck, yes, take it ….. fuck it” and then this reinforces the way the aisles are designed.

In a not so suprising announcement Woolworths have opted to pull sweets out of these aisles – you can read it on their Facebook page

Parents? Good news. We’re going to remove all sweets and chocolates from the check out aisles.

We know that the ‘kids gauntlet’ is a real challenge for those of us committed to teaching our children healthy eating habits… and we want to help make that easier.  Read more about it and people’s comments on their Facebook Page.

— they have not told us what they are going to put in it’s place, so we wait with mild anticipation.

Woolworths I personally think this frees up a lot of space to keep a few bottles of wine displayed.  What would you like to see in their check out aisles?

Anyway, well done Woolworths, you have several moms smiling in joy, and several people who only remember to buy jelly beans whilst standing in the same aisle feeling really annoyed.

Now they are going to need to abandon the aisle and go and find those crazy good jelly beans.  {That crazy person running whilst abandoning her children in the queue would be me if that ever pops up on your security video feed.}

You can’t win it all.  But at least you aren’t losing …..right?

Woolworths, seriously though what is vagina oil …. and why is it harmful if swallowed?


The one where the woman got kicked in the face …. because of me

Yesterday something happened which will remain with me for quite some time.  Forever possibly.  It’ll be that thing that I lie awake at night thinking about and wondering if I had acted differently would the outcome have been affected.

I interview at public places – so it might be a McDonalds or a Mugg and Bean or a where ever.  It’s convenient, and I also like the fact that I am in a public area when I am meeting someone who I do not know.

Yesterday it was at a McDonalds, I use the same one regularly and I know the staff at this point, and it is comfortable.

My social anxiety does make it a challenge to interview, and added to that if I interview in an unfamiliar place it makes it more so.

As with most of these places there are usually several self appointed car guards, who exchange their time of staring at your car to ensure that no harm comes to it, for a few rand.

Now, the idea of car guards is not an issue for me.  I am a good tipper of car guards, and especially the other guys who help push your trolley and unpack your bags into the car.  Those guys I love!!  Especially when I have bought a few 25 kilogram pool salt bags.

So we have established I have no issue with both these entrepreneurial arms of the work force and the services they render.

These particular “car guards” who frequent this particular McDonalds are more of the class of vagrants, who have nicked day-glo green bibs and stand around looking like they are in various degrees of enhibiration the later the day gets.  But hey, who am I to judge.  Leave me in a parking lot staring at cars with a bib, and odds are I will be drinking wine through a straw by 09h00.

I don’t expect much from “my” car guards. I like them to say hello, and then make overtures of how they are going to protect my vehicle against what ever might happen (I don’t necessarily believe this sales pitch), and then when I return I like the person to match me to my car – because that tells they remember me, and maybe they have actually taken superior care of my car.

Then I also expect “my” car guards to not be fighting and screaming and screaming things like “jou ma’s se poes” (for those outside of South Africa, it is basically a reference to your mothers genital area ——- and you know when someone lays that down, that this shit just got real).  It is often the preamble to “what are you going to do with that knife?  Stab me?

The car guard “syndicate” at this particular parking area is made up of two men, and one woman.  I often hear the woman going off pop, and screaming things that make me smile and also sort of make me walk faster to my car to get in and push the automatic lock system.

Yesterday it happened again.  I had seen a skirmish had started between the one man and the one female.  Her appearing like the aggressor from my vantage point. She was the only one throwing things, smacking and swearing. The guy sort of stood there and stoically took his beating, with that look on his face that said he had already given up on this life shit ages ago.

I looked at this and figured, if they remained where they were I could walk past and get into my car and not get involved.

There was a lot of “jou ma se poes” going on and a few other colloquialisms which I did not quite get.

When I reversed (whilst the car guards were showing me how to reverse …. its a service I don’t particularly need, but I leave them to do what ever they feel comfortable with} I rolled down my window and said to them that I am a regular here, and I see them often, and generally I do tip.

I explained that whilst they fight and carry on in the parking lot like this, I am not going to tip them.  The one man mentioned something about the woman, and how she was the other man’s girlfriend.

{The woman was not there at the time, she had sauntered off after the screaming and swearing}

I told him I did not care whose girlfriend she was — and this is where I made my critical error in judgement: “Whilst that malletjie (mad person) is here and carrying on like that, I am not going to tip you guys.  Sort your shit out.  Everyone in the restaurant can see you and it really is not cool.  Get your shit together guys.”

I drove off, and they waved, and I thought “okay that’s done” – I was then sitting in a queue where there is an exit onto the main road out of the restaurant parking lot.

I see some movement to my left and I take a look over.  I see the woman from earlier sitting under a tree, doing what ever you do when you are homeless and are sitting on your mattress under a tree in a McDonalds parking lot.  She was moaning and swearing and gesticulating with a certain amount of fervour.

The guy (possibly her boyfriend) was walking over to her and he too was swearing and gesticulating.

I thought to myself, she is going to get up and beat the shit of this guy, pretty much like I saw her do before in the parking lot.

I was wrong.  Not for the first time on that particular day it would seem.

This guy walked up to her, I could not hear what they were saying as I was too far away and my windows rolled up.  I saw him kick her – right in the fact.  She fell the floor trying to move into the fetal position. He then continued to KICK – with all his might – KICK HER in the face.  She barely had time to bring her hands up to protect her face.

She tried to scramble away, but that exposed her abdomen and he did that kick thing when you bring your foot down and stamp someone rather than kick them.

I sat there horrified.  And mute.  And paralysed.

I am not sure what else happened, as the cars infront of me had moved and the cars behind me were hooting.

There was no where for me to pull off on the side and go back and try and do something.

I was horrified, and realised that my telling the guys that I was not going to tip them whilst they acted like hooligans, was directly translated into “while that woman is making a scene you guys are not getting any money!”

I drove away shaken, not knowing what to do. And feeling this deep veil of guilt that I had been the cause of this woman getting the living shit beaten out of her.

I also could not go back by myself into that situation.  By myself.  If that guy was happy to beat the living shit out of someone who he appeared to have as a girlfriend, what would he do to stupid me stumbling in being all moral high road and shit.’

So, no I did nothing.

I did not call the police.  I was sure telling them there were two bergies/vagrants who were having a fight would get about as much interest as whether the fire pool was really necessarily over at the Zuma Manse.

I am sorry I got involved. If I had kept my mouth shut, it probably would not have happened.

that thing

Valentine’s Day Gift Ideas ………..

Its a tricky kind of year – what to get that man in your life when it appears he has everything.

You just bought him shit for Christmas, and that was hard enough because he seems to only have one interest — and it will usually be something that either requires golf clubs, cycling shorts or a fishing rod.

As a selfless gesture and to assist you not wasting any further time out of your daily schedule to try and find something for that guy of yours, I have found the gift of gifts.

Valentines Day


It does come in three manly colours.

It also has the added purpose of being great if you every notice “plumber’s bum” on your guy.

I do have a question about the press studs though …. but this picture does not feature that level of detail.


I seriously don’t make this shit up ——->> order yours here.