Life is tough and crap falls on your head…

If there is one thing I’ve learned it is not to take life too seriously. It can kill you… Like grab a fork and tickle you, kill you. Like seriously. There is nothing more dangerous than a fork and peanut butter falling on your head when you open the cupboard in the kitchen. I should totally write a post on how to wash peanut butter out of one’s hair. Because it happens. Shit happens my dear readers and it’s often peanut butter in your hair. How bloody poetic.

Peanut butter infested hair aside, let’s get down to business.

Cue University, the main reason why this blasted blog of mine is so quiet. But I repent; I do honestly try to make an effort… I promise no wait I don’t. Screw you all.

As pleasant as the thought of chasing a three legged cat down the street in my underwear sounds, I do believe I’ll pass. What? You had not suggested something so absurd? Well excuse me for assuming you’re interesting.

Another little life lesson that have been adequately forced down my throat would be not to hit morons over the head with my water bottle. You see I’m in that awkward position of choosing to study a degree equivalent to an engineering degree. Some might argue that I’m talking a cluster of crap; nothing in the world is more challenging than an engineering degree… I beg to differ. You try spending everyday getting up at half past 5, working for hours upon hours having barely enough time to pee and then going home, eating, bathing – that is to say if I even remember…(if you remember, there is reason I have dead windowsill fly collection. They seem to love me by the time I reach Wednesday and end up dead by Friday. Could be me… Could be the bug spray or perhaps Katherine carrying an aerosol can filled with au de stinky toes.)

Okay I’m lying; I’d eat my own ear before I got to bed smelly. I have no idea how I’m going to accomplish that but I will, hear me out, I will non-believer. (Here is a dirty little secret… I shower naked.) Anyway… where was I? Oh right, I was at the part of repeating the entire damn process over and over again until you eventually reach that point where you’re willing to lick a wall just because you can. Well that’s just me; I don’t know what the rest of you people do when under a lot of pressure. Me?

I lick walls and hunt carpets in the middle of the night.

Now the reason as to why the urge to use my water bottle as a weapon of mass destruction had risen in the first place is because I was in the unfortunate position of being stuck behind some two girls chattering like banshees and walking really… really… really slowly. I was irritated, irrational, female and hungry. I couldn’t help overhearing one complain to the other over the absolute atrocity of her having to sit through three hours of class before having a blessed break. Cue eye twitch. I’m lucky if I even have a bloody break. You my dear, are probably studying something like BA arts, I have nothing against any BA degrees what I do though have a problem with is people complaining about absolutely nothing. Shame you have class until half past 3? Well that’s cute; I have class till half past 6 sometimes but never mind me. Oh no, you have to get up at 7 to make class… Oh dear, what absolute train wreck, your life is ending because you can’t go out with your friends tonight because you have this foreign thing called homework. I’m lucky to even have social contact with people for 5 min a day. What the hell am I talking about anyway? I don’t know what her life is about.

Perhaps I’m too hard on this individual whose name I do not know, but when you reach the point of finding late night activities like hunting carpets entertaining… You know you are losing your mind or perhaps a pillow and finding any kind of sympathy is asking a bit too much.

That is all.

Ye be primitive.

What is more horrifying than your cell phone inexplicably dying on you?

It’s not the boogeyman picking his nose or the daunting task of finding something to watch on television… Oh no, it’s something much worse.

A power failure.

Dum dum duuuuuuuuuuuuum.

There is nothing more horrifying than the knowledge that for a unknown finite amount of time you will be sitting at home with no electricity meaning no way to charge your dead cell phone, no video games, no hot water, no television and food that might as well be still alive since the means to cook it is… is so primitive (forgive me I had a horrible flashback. It involved burned grilled cheese, the horror! I know for a fact that my wonderful oven wouldn’t have inflicted such monstrosities on that poor sandwich.)

Not to mention no lights, eternal darkness, an increased threat of boogeyman dancing, spiders (I’m not kidding, they seem to thrive on the no electricity front. Something about crawling out from underneath the rug while you try to pee strait and not fall off the toilet in the middle night with a flashlight barely making a dent in the black abyss of your bathroom. You sit there (or stand…) minding your own damn business and then bam! OH SHIT! Need I elaborate? We’ve all been there.) and of course it’s the middle of dead winter. So no electric blankets, no heaters, did I mention the no hot water?

But what gets me the most of this big mess is nothing else than the soul sucking boredom of it all. What the hell am I suppose to do with myself the entire day? What do people do when they have no technology to entertain them? In my defense I realize that there are people out there that deal with this on a daily basis and to them I say: “Well done. I applaud thee.” But that is simply not the point. I am a spoiled child with access to technology on a daily basis and my question is: “How does one entertain oneself when technology has inexplicably bit you in the butt?”

The answer?

Things to do without technology:

  1. Write a story… with your bare hands. That’s right, look for a pen, it’s a tangible, long, thing object that is usually about 20 cm long more or less that when you scratch on a piece of paper (a thin white sheet, you need this as well.) it  makes a mark. Magic! Now go, be the next Stephanie Meyer.
  2. Write a song. It’s like writing a story only the difference is that this can be used to inflict mass horror on people by singing it. So if you ever feel like being hunted by pitchforks and the power happens to be out, this is your means to a very painful end… and possibly finding out what the definition of “Run Like Hell” is.
  3. Wash a car. Time to get down and dirty… like with mud and shit. Get your head of the gutter honestly what do you take me for? A llama-llama? I think not. Washing a car is an entire process on its own and will be elaborated on a later date. For now take it as an excuse to stalk that super hot neighbour of yours and ask him/her for help on washing your car or someone else’s car or the cat’s car. Whatever floats your boat?
  4. Stand on your head and try to lick your toes. It’s harder than it sounds, trusts me. This should waste a few hours, for added effect you could invite over your cute neighbour and try to light your farts on fire but this should only be done in the clutches of pure, undiluted stupidity.
  5. If you have a sibling (like me) that is even more useless than you are during a horrifying crisis like this, play a board game. Something likes chess. If not really your thing or your brain-cells struggle to understand the concepts of intellectual pwning, you can always tie your sibling to a tree and throw them with the board pieces…
  6. Take a nap. Also commonly referred to as a horizontal life pause. Even the most simple minded of beings understand this concept and should I not have to elaborate on the art of napping.
  7. Get a hammer, some wood and some nails… and make something. What the hell did you think I was going to say? Go after your arch-nemesis and have a tea party of death involving a hammer and a lot of screaming? Noooo, bad murdered in the making. We do not kill people. We help them into the afterlife.
  8. Light a candle and fry marshmallows. Ignore the strange colour your marshmallow takes on. I’m still alive so I can say with certainty that it will not kill you. I think. I might be dead already but I’m not sure.
  9. Watch a movie. Ha ha… ha ha ha… ha ha ha ha. I’m sorry I had to.
  10. Read a book. My brother absolutely hates reading but when desperate times call for desperate measures you’d be surprised as to what you discover you can and cannot do. Like reading a book. After spending some time ignoring him flat while he wandered around the house listlessly I held out a book to him and urged him to read it. He actually liked it. So shut up you “I hate reading morons”, the revolution will get you!!

Last but not least…

If all else fails, eat a peanut.

The nonsense of tertiary institutions.

I’m alive.

No wait, that’s a rock. The rock is not alive. I’m alive. The rock isn’t. Now that we have established that little titbit of useless information I greet you peoples of this world, honoured chickens and of course peanut butter sandwiches… all of which are very important.

Look I have valid excuse for not… you know… not writing anything of value for uhm… months… it’s called.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.



I would put in an audio clip of that scary music that plays right before you (the imbecile in some movie) open the damn door but imagination is much nicer. I hear it has cookies. Come to the daerk phase my minions, we have cookies. Spiders are not welcome.

Now this is aimed at all those teens out there that can’t wait to get out of high school. When your acquaintances which can not be yet classified as your elders (give them a few months of tertiary education and we’ll talk again.) tell you that you should enjoy high school while you still can… listen to them. No… They’re not trying to cramp your style, or smother your ego. They speak the truth. Oh, if only I had listened to that wise person whom I can’t remember from a nik-nak (it’s a chip by the way, ohhh cheesy goodness…) he or she spoke truth! Repent, REPENT! The end is nigh!

What are you muttering about you deranged lunatic you might ask? Well all I can say is that university has been interesting to say the least. Now I’m not quite sure how the school systems work in other countries but here in Sunny South Africa where we dress like Eskimos when the temperatures drop below 18 degrees Celsius. (What can I say… we’re pansies in the winter? Not that our winter can really be classified as such, but can you blame us? Snow is a fairy tale is some parts of this country and only extreme weather brings it along once every thousands (I’m exaggerating) or so years. ) We have three levels of education as to say.

Primary education a.k.a. primary school:

This stretches from grade 1-7 where you get to kick other children on the shins and get high on sugar much to your mother’s horror. Where you think you’re the coolest little… uhm… [Insert good descriptive word other than shit] (I’m trying to be a good example to the young… okay young, young people that skulk around on this website.) the world has ever seen when you hit 3rd grade and the lower grades are so beneath you… until you hit grade 4 where you’re at the bottom of the food chain in the senior hierarchy. Fast forwarded through those long torturous years where basic math nearly kills, break time is marked by the blackness that is the mystery of how exactly your lunch managed to crawl out of your lunchbox that your mother packs in for you and of course don’t forget that tyrant that teaches history. Like I care what happened to Mapungubwe (Google it, the wound is still too painful.). Until you reach the seventh grade. Oh how this time is characterized by your superiority, how the little ones quake in their pants when you and your posse walk by. This of course all happens in your head. After all what does a bunch of seventh graders know about snogging? Cough Cough.

Secondary education a.k.a. high school:

Need I say anymore? You swallow hard as you hold onto your mother’s hand for dear life, you were the cat’s whiskers a few months ago, and why are you clinging to your mother now you pansy?  You cannot deny the weakness in your bladder or the fact that they’re HUGE. Matrics, oh the humanity! Your mother gives you a big kiss on your forehead not bothering to wipe the lipstick off and THEY grin with malevolent glee as they notice the pink splotch and kindly show you in to the hall while laughing in their non-existent beards. (Our high school teachers actually cut the guys’ hair and have razors ready if the guys’ beards get too long.) Initiation is… laughable, only now that I am older and somewhat wiser can I laugh at my high school experiences. I’ve already whined and moaned about high school enough while I was still attending it if you’re really interested in a third world country’s education system. High school doesn’t really prepare you for much if I have to be honest. Everything I’m learning now have absolutely nothing to do with what I was taught in high school yet they continue to insist that it is necessary for whatever the reasons they may think. I don’t think that the government thinks at all but you know… Africa. One thing is for sure we still have a hell of a long way to go before we can validly be classified as an information society… (Look at that, useful information that I did not learn in high school…)

Enjoy high school while you can if you are still attending because here in South Africa the next step is… University.

Now I really need that scary audio clip.

To be continued. Hopefully…

I’m still alive here…


This is awkward. Not really, you probably have no idea what I’m talking about since the probability of you ever returning here once you have seen this obscurity that is my non-existent-existent blog is zero to none. So welcome Random Stranger to my blog. Yes, yes I know. I’ve already done the whole introduction thing of hello world, this is me and my blog which I am convinced will be the most awesomest thing ever (as is every other aspiring blogger out there)… like a year ago. You can keep hitting that previous posts button until you find it if you’re ever curious enough. But your laziness is apparent and I’ll spare you the pain… so don’t do it. That’s right, don’t hit that button, don’t you dare. There is nothing of interest. I am starting anew. I haven’t been on this site in months because I’m a horrible person and a damn lazy one.

But I have a valid excuse this time.

Yes I do.

Your eyes are going to fall out if you keep rolling them around like that. I swear one moment you’ll be doing that whatever whoever you are and your random ass blog I so accidentally stumbled on and the next moment… BAM! No more eyes for you, you must look really odd staring up at yourself. Watch out for the eye eating budgies while you gape like a goldfish at yourself. You should probably go the hospital though; I hear randomly losing one’s eyeballs is bad for your health. What? I caused this? Nonsense, I was just here minding my own business and contemplating whether I should make a valuable contribution to society by writing something meaningful… Which I’m like totally doing now for your information. FYI.

Right… where was I? Ohhh, that’s right. I have this perfectly valid excuse for staying away so long. What was it again…? Oh yes… It’s a little thing called I have no life anymore a.k.aUniversity. That’s right, I’m one of the big kids now, see my awesome My Little Pony backpack and shaky legs. I’m totally owning this. No? You don’t believe me? Pffft, who needs you anyway, Random Stranger, you don’t know me or my dead windowsill flies. That’s right, I’m awesome and I collect dead flies.

Ok, ok, I’ll stop now. I came here for a reason.

Dear Random Stranger and any non-existent returning guests.

I sincerely apologize for staying away so long yet I cannot promise you, my adoring Random Stranger, any regular posts but I’ll certainly try, while wearing my undies upsidedownupdownleftright. They have pink toads on them… or is it llamas? I can never decide.

Just a bit of useless information and an excuse.


How to hunt a toaster.

We all know what they look like, small… shiny… and capable of mass destruction if you ever are dumb enough to stick a fork in there.

A toaster is a small land crustacean and it is generally shiny and box-like. The toaster has an aluminium exoskeleton with up to four slots that make up the mouth. Protruding from the outer shell is a lever that is pushed down to consume prey. Also present is a dial determining how much of the prey is to be consumed or rather “roasted.” The toaster’s natural habitat ranges from kitchen counters to the back of creepy-stalker-dude-that-still-lives-with-his-mom’s scary, dark room. On the evolutionary tree, toasters are very closely related to appliances like the microwave. Toaster ovens as you would naturally expect are in fact NOT as closely related to toasters as one would think but more closely related to the oven, however toaster ovens share DNA with toasters which strongly suggests that they share an ancestor. Toasters are ferocious predators that prey on hapless creatures like sliced bread, loafed bread, bagels, waffles, pancakes, occasional paper money and even a few fingers if it’s really hungry.

So, you’re probably wondering why the hell you should know any of this. Know thy enemy my dear student for it will help you in your conquest when hunting these dangerous predators.

How to hunt a toaster.

Gather all your supplies and make a checklist of what you will need.

Hunting toasters is a serious business and your wits will be tested. Compiling a list of supplies is crucial in your conquest of slaying these dangerous and menacing creatures. You will need a spatula to slap the appliance away if it would dare to come too close, a plate to ward off any deranged attacks from flying crumbs, a knife to impale unsuspecting loafs of bread to use them as bait and lastly a fork if it ever leads to the last fatal confrontation. I sincerely hope for your sake that never happens.

Make sure you have your mother’s permission, hunting marshmallow, the right ammo, stylish sunglasses, emergency butter, oven mitt, extra underwear and anything else you deem necessary.

You can’t just jump right into the fray and start slaying toasters left and right. Have you met your mother? Exactly. Now unless you want to be hit over the head with a wooden spoon or worse I strongly suggest you get her permission to kill the uncivilized toaster in her kitchen. If that is out of the question, bribe her with a spa date and hope and pray that she’s the forgiving type. When hunting toasters, always bring your marshmallow with you as a morale boost or something to lick seductively in case you need to seduce the coffee machine… we’ll look the other way. Toasters can only be killed with homemade spoon bows that use half rusted spoons as arrows. Anything else will only piss it off and might just singe your eyebrows. Stylish sunglasses is a must for menacing poses while hunting out these aloof creatures, trust me, the toaster doesn’t want some fashion NO-NO moron hunting it. Emergency butter must only be used… excuse me I lost the script. Figure it out. An oven mitt is crucial when wrangling the hissing toaster, don’t want to burn yourself on hot toast, now do you? And please… for all intents and purposes, when taking your victory photo… wear appropriate clothing… No one is interested in your Hello Kitty undies and yes I’m talking to you male life forms.

When stalking your toasty prey, make sure not to fart.

The process of hunting a toaster is quite simple.

Step 1: Find a corner.

Step 2: Peer around the corner.

Step 3: Lick the wall and wink at your marshmallow.

Step 4: Marinate yourself and stick jelly babies all over your body. This will disguise your scent and make the toaster unable to smell you.

Step 5: Lick lips in anticipation while trying not to freak the cat out.

Step 6: Do a burrito roll into the pantry while humming your own personal theme song.

Step 7: Search for the toaster.

Step 8: When the toaster has been spotted, take out your spoon bow, have the butter ready, stab the bread and lastly do not look down… there is a spider crawling over your big toe but that is not an issue right now.

Step 9: I’ll wait while you silently freak out and try to drown it in the sugar.

Step 9.1: Are you still busy with that spider? Honestly just step on it or something. Oh really? You forgot to wear pants? What did I say about undie photos?

Step 9.1.2: Oh the spider is dead? Took you long enough. Okay, okay, ready your spoon bow.

Step 10: Take aim and shoot the toaster. If the spoon bounces off, that’s okay, spoons were never meant to kill toasters in the first place and you should probably start running now.

Step 11: I hear toasters have an appetite for retreating heels, I wonder if that’s true.

Step 12: Oh you’re hiding in the closet? Some toaster hunter you are, pfffft.



Sooo what, it’s been like four weeks. Hey don’t look at me like that! I was busy, yeah I was busy… Oh what. now you’re rolling your eyes. What if a marshmallow ate them? How’d you like that eye roller? Pffft ridiculous. I do actually have a valid excuse. It is called… END YEAR EXAMS. Baduuuum! Yeah you heard me, yours truly was in the evil clutches of pieces of paper that will determine my life as I know it… I screwed this up… I would have been screwed well and truly…. SO want to know how I survived? So do I…

How to choose a pencil.

Consider how you use a pencil.

What do you do with your pencil? Do you write? Do homework? Do you clean your ears with it? Do you stab people with it? Do you use it as a lightsaber and pretend to be half peanut ninja? Do you press heavily or lightly when you write or draw. Do you prefer a fine line or a bold one? (Marshmallows or peanuts.) Do you tend to lose, loan out, chew, or mistreat your pencils, or do they get stored safely in a cup or pouch or in a dark corner in your pants? Do you carry your pencil in a pocket or purse where a sharp point could do damage? Like stabbing the chocolate you keep hidden there? You know a pencil mark on chocolate is not very appealing. Do you wear the erasers down to a stump or tend to lose eraser caps? Do you erase very little, so that the eraser dries up? Do you like chewing your pencil?

Notice what you like and don’t like about the pencils you already have around.

If you are anything like me, you’d probably have pencils lying between the couch cushions, in the fridge, stabbed into mushrooms, glued to the ceiling… You know, perhaps but only perhaps when you bought that pencil it meant something special to you at that time and finding it in your heart to give the pencil covered in your goldfish’s saliva a second chance might just solve your pencil problems…

Decide between a mechanical pencil and a traditional pencil.

Mechanical pencils don’t need sharpening, but they do need a supply of the right size lead. You know those flimsy grey little sticks that snap easily and stab you unexpectedly in the finger whenever you innocently reach into your pencil case for your hidden stash of eraser ammo? Traditional pencils don’t need evil little sticks but they do need the comforting embrace of a pencil sharpener. And what do pencil sharpeners do to pencils? They excrete pencil droppings alllll over your desk, so really the choice is between pencil poop or being stabbed for the rest of your life.

Convenience is everything

When you are sucking your thumb for answers you can’t have a bothersome pencil, you need a quiet one that just lies there obediently while you useless grope for answers in the dark recesses of your mind only to find that you stashed cheetos there. What did you do? Shove them through your nose and then forgot? At least you have a snack and can maybe create cheetos art on your paper.

Look for other features according to your needs.

Does it have a built-in eraser? Is there a little cap to chew on when staring off into oblivion? On a mechanical pencil, does it advance by clicking the side or the top, or by some other means, such as twisting or angrily throwing it against the wall? How sturdy is the construction of the pencil? Does it snap when you hit the moron sitting next to you over the head? Does it have a comfortable, soft grip? How much does the pencil cost? Does the pencil shut up when you are trying to think?

Pencils are very important equipment with which one must complete one’s exam paper. What’s the point of an eraser if you have no pencil to make it miserable with?


Biology… or rather how to fail school.

Ah school, who needs it anyway. It’s not like you need an education and just winging it with Google as your support is a sure fire way to show the world what smart really is… I mean come on, who needs algebra when it is perfectly sane to microwave your cell phone and “hope” nothing happens because you know in that pea sized brain of yours that your “education” ensure that nothing stupid will ever happen. But wait… you are in school, how horrifying. How are you suppose ensure that your smartitude stays is place when it is slowly being corrupted with the stale air of your classroom.

How to fail school.

  1. Always arrive late. (By doing this you ensure that you miss everything important because the important is usually said in the mornings when you are trying not to be early.)
  2. Never slip into your desk quietly.  Instead, make a “big production” of entering the room by interrupting the class in session, dropping your books on the floor, etc. (Eating armadillo poop in front of everyone, picking at your ear, licking the hamster… things like that will ensure that your teacher is pissed very quickly and you might even get a free ticket  out of there… detention. Oh wait that only applies for after school. Oh well, more school!! Not what you were aiming for… Yeah I have no advice here for you.) Better yet, don’t have your books with you.
  3. Never bring a pencil to class.  Always borrow someone’s and forget to give it back. By the end of the year, you will have an entire collection of different sized pencils, an array of pissed off fellow class mates and a failure. Well done.
  4. Never bring notebook paper.  Let other people spend their money on paper and you just keep borrowing from them. Look you’re saving trees here right? If you don’t buy your own notebook paper you’re saving trees right? Right?
  5. Never, ever, do your homework.  All the other kids will have done the homework differently but you? You will have done nothing. Nothing every time, so much nothing that the teacher will have to admire your consistency.  If you keep this up you’ll be awarded a failure.
  6. Lose your textbook the first few weeks of school so you will have an excuse for not reading your assignments. This is part of not doing your homework. If you still have the books the teacher will sniff them out like a bloodhound and then what? You’d actually have to do your homework – sort of – but if I “lost” them, then there is absolutely nothing anyone can do. Poor anyone and a nice failure for you.
  7. Say, “This is BORING!” loudly every five minutes or so, especially if the classroom is quiet. This might not earn you failure, probably a hard slap; however this will contribute to a failure if you follow the above steps.
  8. Ask, “Why do we have to do this stuff?” as often as possible. You’ll have to listen to the teacher preach to you as to why all the crap we do in school is important but at least at the end of the day you will have a perfect non-perfect reason to fail school.
  9. After the teacher says, “turn to page 36″, say, “What page?” Not only will you slightly annoy the human being standing in front of you, but also ensure a looming failure at some point. Of course this is all moot if you lost your books…
  10. When your group or partner is depending on you, show up unprepared. Better yet, don’t show up at all. You’ve got better things to do than some boring assignment, let them do all the work. You have purple squirrels that shoot gumballs from their eyes to chase across highways.
  11. If you absolutely can’t talk in class, fall asleep instead of working on your next assignment. You want to go to CandyMountain right? So? What better way to do it than go to sleep in the middle of class. It’s not like anything important is going to happen in any case so why should you care?
  12. Irritate the student that sits in front of you by banging the back of their chair or making strange noises. You’re sending a message to the aliens. There is no better way to do it than that method… You might get slapped, but the aliens man… Or perhaps you want to let the local cockroaches know that the mission has been compromised or… maybe… you just want to irritate the “idiot” in front of you.
  13. Stay up as late as possible so you will be sleepy in class. You can’t go to CandyMountain if you’re well rested. What better way to ensure the possibility than staying up late counting your teeth and stuffing cookie crumbs in your ears?


Welcome to Africa

I’ve already done a post more or less like this one but there are so many mysteries and myths surrounding this beloved, scorching continent I live on that I just had to extend it and blog about it once again. I live in South Africa, a little country at the bottom of Africa that is known for its biltong and pet lions…

Without further ado… Myths and misconceptions about Africa.

Africa is a country.

Look we all know you are a natural born genius and all but honestly, have you looked at a map recently? Do you see those 54 independent, unique countries that dot the CONTINENT Africa? Here let me provide you with glasses and solid hit over the head. Do you want guess how many languages are spoken in Africa? Did you guess 200? No? Shame on you, I’m really starting to wonder whether you got your education from a human being or a retarded monkey-donkey. The CONTINENT Africa is a lot bigger than most people think; in fact you could fit the USA into Africa three times. How is that for math?

Africa is dangerous and violent

Have you seen my (non-existent) weapons armoury? I make a habit of killing at least one person every Sunday because, hello? That’s what Africans do, isn’t it? We are a violent, bloodthirsty nation with nothing better to do than kill each other and eat bugs… Yeah no. Ignore the wars, pirates and children soldiers the news keep shoving down your throat. It’s the news, they tell you its good a day and then continue onward to contradict themselves, ignore them. Africa is as violent as any other continent. (Yeah you heard me North-America, Asia)

Africa is filled with dangerous animals roaming freely

Did I mention my lion named Fluffy? No? Probably because I don’t have one… because you know I have the will to live and not end up on Fluffy’s dinner plate.  If I had a pet lion I’d be dead and my bones used by Katherine to hit people over the head. Animals don’t roam free in our cities. Sure there are crocodiles living in the water hazards of some of our golf courses and rhinos graze just a few miles from the centre of Nairobi but for the most part our animals are safely confined in reserves and national parks where you as a tourist can happily snap away at them with a camera while your children nag you to pet the lion.

Africa is poor and disease ridden.

Let’s ignore the fact that I, as an African, have a computer, and a home, and I go to school. Let’s ignore all the millions of other people in my city that lives in their own homes, have jobs and watch their kids play rugby on the weekends. I’m dying by the way… yeah; I didn’t get that last piece of pie so I’ve decided I’m dying of depression. Oh… you thought I was dying of sickness weren’t you? Yeah no, we have hospitals for that, did I mention our hospitals? No? Well now you know. Malaria you say? Nah, we have bug spray for that. Aids? Don’t tell me you don’t know how to avoid that… In Africa, you are more likely to die of sun exposure because you were under the impression that sun block was unnecessary than something as uncommon as malaria and all the other sicknesses that we are plagued with daily. Yeah, riiiiiight. We have our poor like any other country; we have our diseases like any other country.

Africa has no history

Riiiight, no settlers, wars, struggles for power or chicken scratch on our cave walls… because we never did that did we? If you believe that evolution really did happen then there is nothing like the Out of Africa theory because we are a historical stump of a continent. We never did anything; in fact we just got here. Hey guys look at that, they have rocks here, look at the pretty rocks, such pretty rocks…

It’s always hot in Africa

Oh look at that… a lion in the Johannesburg Zoo with snow on its head…

How to do Prom

Freaking out and standing on your head about finding a prom date? Worried about how much your limo is going to cost? How many chickens you still need to chase?

Ahh prom or as we call it here in Sunny South Africa: Matric Farewell. Mine is over and now I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Between all of the movies and TV shows about the big night, it’s easy for silly stereotypes and super high expectations to suck the fun out of what’s supposed to be an awesome celebration of your senior year of high school.

But you don’t have to fall into that trap or stand on your head. Here are some of the biggest prom misconceptions — and all the reasons why you should not, under any circumstances, lose sleep over them this year or drown your goldfish with your stressful sweat.

You Need To Have A Date
Look having a minion to lord over and order around is fun and all but you don’t need one – not really. Having a minion isn’t going make the night more fun or less fun… it kind of just depends on you and what you make of the night. Don’t let the night and all its annoying little expectations get you down. You are a strong, independent human being and you don’t need some minion to have the best prom of your life. No, you need a fish. A big, slimy fish to carry in your purse or man bag so that you can scare people with it… because that is totally normal.

Professional Photos Are The Only Way To Go
The best kind of photographs aren’t ones that are staged with cheesy photographers and cost an arm, leg, every vital organ in your body and your goldfish — they’re the ones you take of yourselves, laughing with friends and sharing in impromptu memories. I can prove it:



The first was taken by my mother, who by the way is not a professional photographer,  in my grandmother’s garden and the second by a friend… Now I get to pet the goldfish on the head.

Limos Are the Only Means of Transportation
There is an unlimited amount of creative ideas to get to prom and you don’t need a boring old limo. Have a carriage drawn by an array of spitting llamas while holding a cutlass and shouting deranged gibberish at the clouds.

Everything Needs To Be Traditional
Prom does not need to be one big, traditional experience based on annoying stereotypes and expectations from your parents. If you want to take the goldfish. Then take the damn goldfish. You and your date (minion) don’t have to look like matching daisy skippers to make the night work. If he wants to wear a belt made of tacos and you a fishbowl on your head, then what is stopping you?

Fancy Prom Attire Is A Must
Just because all the other girls and guys feel the need to look exactly the same just in different colours, doesn’t mean you can’t wear a unicorn flavoured tomato on your head while dressed as a pink pastry. Spending bucket loads of money is not a requirement; in fact it is quite crazy and stupid. There are many ways to dress all fancy like without having to sell your organs.

You Need To Spend A Lot Of Money 
Oh yes, selling all your organs and spending all your money on “crap” that everyone says you’ll need is a genius idea. Riiiiight. You don’t have to spend a crap ton of money to have a great prom. Using things that you already have creatively is a brilliant idea and you will definitely be unique because hello? No one else has the same kind of crap in their house available like you do…

Your Entire Grade Will Come Together And Become Best Friends Forever.
This is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard. Everyone will not come together and sing ridiculous songs all happy snappy because hey! It’s prom and we all love each other. Girls will be checking out each other’s dresses in silent contempt, guys will be sizing each other and comparing dates. This is human nature, deal with it. This is why we have friends, so that we can hang with them and not pay attention to the underlying tension that is always and will be always there among teenagers. Whatever.


Embracing yer noobiness is probably a bad idea…

Ahh the wonderful world of the socially incapable. I am not referring to you genius, I am merely referring to myself and I. It has been quite a while since I’ve entered the world of online gaming. Quite an experience to be honest. I mean come on, what’s not to love of being textally abused by your fellow players. There is nothing like it, I tell you. (Did you notice it? The sarcasm dripping from my voice? Ahhh Steve would be so proud. ) Now anyway, sarcasm and duck tape aside – I have recently been acquainted with a word. That word got me thinking,

Recognize the different meanings and variations behind the word “noob”:

  • noob /n00b – an annoying player (i.e. a beggar, whiner). This does not necessarily refer to a new player, but they often go hand-in-hand. Like cheese and world domination.
  • Newbie – A new player. This is as non-insulting as it gets. Se
  • Newb – Abbreviation of “newbie”, but often confused with “Noob”.

Use an appropriate, original username/character name. You want to be special just like everyone else and if you are going to insist on creating an unoriginal totally not original username then you might as well be a sheep and smash your face into the ground everyday. If you are a famous person one day, you want to be named as AwesomeDude/Dudette not Iamaretarderpersonwhoreallyhadnothingbettertonamemyself. Seriously how the hell will you ooze awesomeness if you are named that? You will not my good madam/sir.

Don’t chat in L337SPEAK. “|3375|>34|<! 5 4|\||\|0’/!|\|&!” – you’re probably wondering what that means. Well decipherer it for yourself sucker.

Don’t beg for help. In general, it makes you look pathetic. Most experienced players, (who probably began with nothing and made their way up without begging for anything) won’t give you anything, anyway. If they could drag their asses up to supreme unNoobiness by themselves, you could probably too – probably. If all else fails eat a peanut and lick a hamster for good measure.

Be patient. If you asked for help, it may take a while for someone to respond since you know… Must not die and embrace noobness. Keep in mind that other players aren’t required to help you if they don’t want to. You are not the Queen nor are you marshmallow which means you better pray and hope the other players are nice or you could just offer them cookie crumbs and pictures of your toenails.

Do not post questions or requests in an annoying manner. Keep punctuation to a minimum, and mind your spelling and grammar. Shouting “Help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!111″ won’t get you very far. As in you will leap the distance before ceremoniously kissing the floor’s metaphorical behind 0.1 feet from your starting point.

Use appropriate English punctuation. Just because we are online, doesn’t mean you get to abandon your schooling and leave it commas and what not. You are doing everyone a favour if your sentences are not one long torturous poem of “Look at me I can’t spell squat and using commas and punctuation is for total noobs and I’m just going to keep on typing and typing and typing and typing until the world eventually erupts in glorified cheese sauce and I’ll be the cheese sauce overlord and you will all lick leaves in my glory…”

Spell correctly. Don’t abbreviate or deliberately misspell words. Contrary to belief, it does not make you look any cooler to do so (beep – idiot alert) —it makes you look very immature and chronically stupid. If you really want to ask for someone’s help, then be respectful and take the time to type out normal English – you know… something we can understand and not require aliens to decipher.

Do not spam. In online gaming, spamming refers to the act of repeating something over and over again, as in copying and pasting “I need help!!” several many times. We got it the first time, yes we are ignoring you, no you can’t have my cookie crumbs – it’s mine. MINE.

Do not post garbage. This would include keyboard gibberish (“dsagterhgr,bds), or general nonsense like saying your cat just had kittens in the middle of an online match… Dude we don’t care that your cat just gave birth to kittens. No, I would rather not see you licking a cow’s tail. What? I really do not have the time to watch a tree eat a dog.

Don’t whine. Whenever the floor is wiped with you in battle or some sort of combat please stop whining about it. Just take the loss and move on and if you don’t we will come for you in the middle of the night and spray hairspray all over your lamp shade and then light it on fire before ceremoniously killing the fire and drooling on your sneakers. I am warning you.



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