Oops

Number of times been stranded without petrol: 2

Yes, I've officially run out of petrol a whole two times. It's staggering! It's a female stereotype that I admit to being a victim of.

The first time was because I wanted to find out how far my car could go without filling it up. It was a small Renault Clio 1.4. however, it used to take ALOT of petrol, some R230 worth (South Africans will understand why all the bitching and moaning about the fuel price). It never really got to me because I could do between 600-700 kilometers on a full tank.

So one night I decided to break the kilometer barrier. The shining orange light came on the night before whilst driving to some club. (I used to chance it only from the previous night coming home from work).

I was really anxious when I turned on the ignition to drive home. A shot of adrenaline shot through my body. I was determined to add a few more km's to the chart. I almost made it home too!!

This Saturday was stuckage number two. (Before I continue, I’d like to make it clear, that it wasn’t my fault. It was my sister’s car. I only drove there. How am I supposed to know that it NEEDED petrol?) We had just finished mashing it up at some club in Jozi town, when we made our way to the car.We jumped in- me in the passenger seat- and my sister turned the ignition. Nothing.... Nada...

Luckily the dude that organized the party, pointed us out to some other dude that could be of assistance. This dude looked way dodge, my first instinct was to brave the walk to the petrol station, muggings and all. My sister telepathically convinced me otherwise- two little people and a group of armed men- I wasn’t really in the mood.

I hope number 3 never comes!

Bbbbb...oring

Today I'm going to pretend to be boring.
Maybe people will believe me.

Sometimes I do feel like I'm boring though. (Maybe I am, or could I just be plain old BORED?) Let's look at the word BORED. It refers to having no mental (or for some-physical) stimulation. I hope I haven't become numb to these mind prickling forces. That would be tragic indeed. Imagine a life of complete and perpetual boredom.

In this book I'm reading, the crazed psycho-serial-killer, Simon, refers to boredom as a rat. It gnaws at you, preying at you from the darkest corners of your mind. This diseased infested being contaminates; until you succumb... And when you think it can't get anymore, it drags you- kicking and screaming- to a place you'd rather not be.

Blah, blah, blah... I know I AM bored and boring today (I'm not too sure which is worse), no pretending here.



Forget that... this picture actually makes me feel, much less....ummm...

Splatter slooshes

Q: What happens when you have too much time on your hands?

A: Crazy, obscure, mental pictures brew inside your head, fighting to make their way out.

When these visual manifestations do break free (after years of being rolled up and left in the corner), the result can be catastrophic.

I remember picking up the brush, and mixing, mixing until the bottom of the palette had a hole in it. Wooshy wrist movements followed. Hours passed, my clothes became more and more soaked with different hues of the rainbow.













P.S. Remember to clean the brushes after use.

Greenies

Nasal explosion, as the fumes rise from the palate to the inside of your sinuses. If it's really strong the crazy tingling travels up to your head and pulsates over your scalp. Once you've gotten used to the sensation it becomes addictive.

My new found drug is the gunky green paste that masks itself sneakily as avo. I used to hate the taste of it, but now I could consume a whole bowl of the stuff. I've even resorted to putting it on and in lots of the food I eat. Wasabi mashed potatoes are my ultimate fave, but I have to admit it is a bit potent on cheese sandwiches.

Who needs cocaine, when you have WAH-SAAA-BEE (say in Japanese accent)!

Back in Business

I've been a lazy git for the last few months. Haven't looked into a computer screen or felt the plastic keys under my finger tips. I love holidays.

But alas!!! I'm back touching my "abc's". Back to the mine dumps. Back to my lovely blog.

P.S. I'll post something more readable soon. Promise.