They should put prizes in tampon boxes ……

prizes in tampons

 

They really should ……

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You are a bit special aren’t you ….

ugandans

Possibly why I behave as I do …. {sigh}

This one made me snort this week – it so could explain so much.

Have a good weekend everyone!!  If you hadn’t realised, then here is a huge suprise for you – Monday is a public holiday!!

Maybe why Treena shouldn’t be allowed to have sex …. let alone a baby

I seriously wonder at some people some of the time — yahoo questions and answers does often make one realise that there is indeed stupid questions … and people who really should not be permitted to breed …. ever

{Like Reluctant Mom’s Blog – pop along and show your like by voting for Mommy Blogger Competition – fairly easy and painless}

Over Population ….

This image taps into my idle mind ramblings of whether it is right or wrong to have one child or three children, and whether as parents we are “permitted” to raise an opinion, based on our rather awkward position on the matter.

I think it is very easy to grumble about the state of the world with poverty, global warming and Justin Bieber – but when it comes to examining the world from your vantage point one chooses to have (or not have) as many children as you can afford {or would want to,because you can.}

It sort of gives the finger to what ever is happening in the world.

Do I think that with three children our carbon footprint is a tad big, and that we have added to the strains on the planet rather than lessened the strains had we chosen to have none or just one?  Definitely.

I wonder if the argument would be that no one should have more children, because there are so many children already and so many that need good homes.  Pick one that is already here, rather than add another?

What ever the argument, our intrinsic programming is that we have a desire to reproduce (not to just have s.ex but to propogate the specie.)

To have a child {usually of our own DNA}, to continue our line, pass on our unique genetic code to the next generation.  We often choose to do it for fairly selfish reasons, and it is all about us and the mini-me we hope to one day meet.

When faced with the gurgling bundle of newborn, the selfishness is all but forgotten, and we just hope that our imp will never sing a Justin Bieber song, or do drugs!

Though drugs might be forgiven.

{like Reluctant Mom, please pop along and vote over at Kidz World Blogger Awards}

Cousin’s marrying …. sage advise

This evening the girls are in the bath.

Georgia is explaining to Isabelle about “when she marries her cousin” …

So I scream through: “There is never an occasion WHEN it is okay to marry your cousin.  NEVER.”

Connor pipes: “Never marry your cousin, there will be something VERY wrong with your children.  VERY.”

Sometimes kids say what you struggle to express, in the most eloquent and succinct style possible.

 

<have I told you how much I really like my kids ….. of course I love them, but I like how funny and clever they are….>

Silent Sunday …

I saw this on this site and it made me snort a bit.

So the other day at the police station …..

I will confess I seldom have reason to go into police stations.  This might be a fortunate set of affairs, or it might be robbing me of some rich culture in my life.

Sunday morning I needed to go down and report my “stolen car keys.”  It appeared that if someone walked up to my car and went bleep-bleep-bleep and drove off with my car, insurance would not be so keen on having any further discussion with me unless they knew beforehand that I was no longer in possession of said car keys.

Kennith’s mom played taxi and first we went and checked my car was still where we left it.

It was – happy moment.

We then spent two hours combing the area I had been “just in case” I might have lost it.  No luck with “hide and seek” so off we went to the police station to open a docket and get a case number.

My first impression was that internal decor really could use some sprucing up.

I also like the guy in the corner who was checking his gun.

Then my eye rested on the officer taking statements in a full bullet-proof protection vest.   That made my mildly nervous that this might not be the safest place in town.

I finally got my turn and explained my situation.  Officer George was very helpful, a bit perplexed, and went to ask advise from a detective.

She then returned with a rather large wad of paper that we proceeded to fill in and sign.

Whilst this was going on – there were various characters entering and leaving the police station.

The charge office door was directly behind me – which always makes me nervous as I cannot see people entering.  They tended to fall in to the police station, rather than open the door and enter through it.

At one point this guy comes in and he is in a lather.  Basically his story is that he has been threatened, and some guys who live near his house have threatened him with death and a good bludgeoning.  He is afraid and needs help.

The police officers ask him to take a seat and calm down and they will be with him shortly.

Let’s call him Jan for ease of future reference.

He sits down, and then keeps standing up every 3 – 5 minutes having a total rant.

A lot of it is in Afrikaans and he is using a lot of slang, so I am getting that he is agitated and he has a gripe.  Jan keeps clutching his side, and I am convinced at this point he has an Uzzi in there and is going to mow us all down, or he has been stabbed and no one is attending to him.

I am feeling quite concerned for Jan. I am feeling quite concerned for my safety, and envious of the police man with the bullet-proof vest now.

The police officers keep telling him – in a real calm voice and calling him Sir/Meneer to “please sit down, calm downa  bit, and we will be with you shortly – just sit down, rest and catch your breath”

They continue with my statement – and I keep glancing at Jan, thinking that I feel sorry for him, as he is clearly in distress, but the officers seem to be acting like it is all business-as-usual.

Close to the end of my little “docket opening” the charge office bursts open, and there is this bedraggled women carrying about 12 really heavy shoprite bags.  Accompanied by another man with about 3 shoprite bags.

She starts screaming – and not using good Afrikaans – at Jan – but going off like, well what ever it is that goes off in the middle of Kuilsriver if you are missing most of your top teeth, and mix your languages with ease.

Police officers do look up now.  One saunters out the back and ask who are you “screaming lady in the very bright pink hoody?”

Let’s call her Mary.

Mary it seems is Jan’s wife.  Jan is very hungover and well a bit “gerook” as she explains.  The reason he is at the police station is because he is too lazy to walk back to their house and hopes to organise a “lift” with the policeman, by making up this story of being “stalked to be murdered.”

The man standing next to Mary is Jan’s brother and he confirms that yes Mary is Jan’s lawfully wedded wife (he actually used that exact phrase) and Jan is gerook, and he has left them to carry all the shopping by themselves as he is lazy.

Jan’s brother used several other colourful references which were lost on me.

Jan had another little episode, but another severe look from Mary, had him decide to get his arse off the white plastic chair and rethink this particular plan.

Jan left with his wife and his brother – I noticed still not carrying any of the shopping bags.

My guess is Mary is going to smack him over the head as soon as they are out of the charge office with the day old French Loaf she had in her packet.

My statement was done.  I was told they would sms me the case number and I could go.

No matter how bad my day was, my guess is Jan was going to be having a far worse one.

Funny Friday #2

Behind The Awkwardness: Fish Out Of Water

This was my birthday present– fins and a mask.  I’m not sure what is the most awkward part of this photo…my sister lurking in the background, my unenthusiastic stance, or the arrows on my suit pointing to my hoo-hoo.”

(submitted by Andrea)

The Sunbathers


It’s the most important day of your life… for you.

(submitted by Jeremy)