Category Archives: Humor

The Superwoman crisis…

Do you ever feel like you’re fighting the snot wars? I do. All the time.

It’s winter in Africa and the little one I raise has had three colds in five weeks. Of course, I’ve had most of those colds too. Single parenthood, toppled with colds and oh, winter holidays. Because crèche here closes for three weeks?! And parents are meant to…pay even more for childcare? During COVID?

So you work from home, while blowing the little one’s nose. Over and over again.

The other night, I had the pleasure of being awoken in the middle of the night and then peed down. Literally. I was peed down. Ever tried to night potty train? Oh yeah, that.

In the middle of the night, I swore. I said a long line of unsuitable words only a Londoner would know. Then, of course, I felt ashamed of myself. So I swore at myself instead.

Some days, I feel like we’re fighting poverty, world hunger, the education crisis (on a micro scale) and a few other things at Little Angels. Some days, I feel like my movies will entertain, enlighten and make the world a better place. Some days, I feel like all the work I do in the personal development field is turning me into the next Dale Carnegie. And some days, I’m fighting the snot wars and learning how not to swear at midnight.

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Filed under diary, Humor, Musings, Parenthood, Parenting, Uncategorized

When shit hits the fan, buy toilet paper…and have a giggle…

This year’s trending words so far:

  • social distancing
  • masks
  • hand sanitizer
  • toilet paper
  • panic shopping

As a human, this doesn’t exactly make me smile. As a writer, I find it hilarious. It’s like living in a science fiction comedy where panic has turned humans into anti-bac spraying, mask wearing, toilet paper obsessed morons.

It is the year when toilet paper trumps roses as birthday gifts. Not that I ever found roses particularly interesting, unless they come delivered as a bush. You know, so you can plant them, grow them, harvest the petals and use them in cooking, baking and teas. Then, roses make sense.

Not that I object a beautiful bouquet of flowers–they’re a symbol. A beautiful symbol at that. It’s just, they don’t make my heart race, or my imagination take flight. For that, more innovative and thoughtful gifts are required.

Toilet paper, unlike a bouquet of roses, you can use. And if someone writes cute poetry on it, you may even enjoy your visits to the bathroom a little bit more.

In fact, I’d totally get behind the idea of receiving loo roll with poetry on it.

The thing is, when something like COVID comes along that has the potential of flooding hospitals with patients and kill off a small percentage of the population, not least because hospitals are struggling with resources, it’s scary.

But just as when terrorism and immigration were seen as the scariest things in the world, it’s not the scariest thing in the world.

If you Google the stats, you’ll soon figure out that cancer is a lot more frightening. However, you can protect yourself from COVID in ways you can’t from cancer. Then again, certain cancers, are caused by toxins, HPV (a sexually transmitted disease), and lifestyle choices. And those cancers you can protect yourself from, but are you?

Are you living a healthy lifestyle devoid of toxins? Do you refrain from sex with a lot of different people? Are you building up your immune system?

Even with COVID, working on your immune system is a great idea. From what I’ve learned when penning health and wellness articles, that means good sleep, time in nature, exercise, healthy meals and a life with as little negative stress as possible. Certain herbs and spices may also help you build up your immune system.

What people believe to be the scariest thing in the world, often isn’t the scariest thing in the world. But that doesn’t mean it won’t kill some people. Take precaution. But also take precaution for things that aren’t perceived as immediate dangers. Such as having a heart attack due to poor lifestyle choices. I bet overdosing on fat and sugar doesn’t scare you half as much as COVID, but it should. Statistically speaking.

Personally, with COVID, I’d rather be safe than sorry. If I can socialize two meters apart, in nature and spray everything with anti-bac, I’m quite happy with that. For now.

That, however, does not mean I’ll focus on COVID. I don’t need to listen to COVID stories all day long. I don’t need to think about toilet paper. Hey, if we run out there are magazines and leafs and this thing called washing using water.

This year has been a rollercoaster for most of us. And some have lost near and dear ones to COVID. That’s horrible. But rollercoaster rides aren’t just horrible, they’re also a thrill and can give you the giggles. If nothing else, because everything’s upside down. So let’s focus on the good stuff, not on hand sanitizer.

You can choose your own trending words for the year. Such as art, creativity, nature, family, achievement, and happiness.

When things change, you have to find opportunities in things that present themselves in the now. Such as opening a bidet business, or manufacturing your own toilet paper. Or why not create a new exercise routine at home, launch the online business of your dreams, learn to grow your own vegetables, or finally meditate daily?

You’re your own boss. Now more so than ever.

No, you might not be able to travel to the other side of the world. But there is so much to be thankful for. This isn’t the plague and we aren’t living in the 1500s. That’s a starting point.

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Filed under diary, Happiness, Humor, Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Musings

Go a little wild already — why acting like a cave woman is really the way to go…

Welcome to the pity party. It’s a certain kind of glorious celebration of all our flaws and misfortunes, where the champagne flows together with tears, complaints and general misery.

Here’s the deal. I don’t know about you, but I, myself, and several of my friends, acquaintances and even people I’ve overheard talking in general, have been known to complain.

For example, you know the person who’s terrible with finances, but would like to become a millionaire (that’d be me), yet have never picked up a book about mindset and money, nor about how to manage personal finances, nor gotten a budget app. The person who can’t keep a boyfriend for more than two weeks, but would like to get married, yet have never ever read a book about what healthy relationships are all about, engaged in personal development to learn about themselves, or gotten therapy. The wannabe entrepreneur who isn’t running a business (also me), who has never picked up a business book, nor takes steps towards launching their business. The person complaining about being fat/unfit, but who won’t eat healthily, nor exercise. The person wanting to be in excellent health, but who smokes all the time. The person who’d like a job they would enjoy more, but who is not educating themselves, nor trying to work their way up the company, nor looking for another job. The person who wants great sex, but have never told their partner they’d like to try something different, nor picked up a book about sex, or sensual pleasures. The person who is feeling like shit all the time and would like to get happy, but does not attend therapy, nor read personal development books, nor attend personal development courses. Possibly they also don’t eat well, nor exercise, nor sleep on regular hours, nor have a healthy social life, nor engage their brain in interesting tasks, nor practice meditation and mindfulness, nor spend time in nature. All which are scientifically proven to improve one’s mood. The person who’d like to live in a fancy mansion and always complains about their apartment, but have never ever tried to decorate the place better, or improve it in any other way.

In short, there are a lot of people who want certain things and complain about not having them. They also have excuses for why they don’t have them, be it excellent health, or smashing finances. It’s a matter of time. A matter of money. A matter of not having the education. A matter of it being too difficult. A matter of someone, or something, getting in the way. A matter of…whatever the heck it may be.

I have excuses for the areas in my life that aren’t what they couldn’t be. A lot of them. They aren’t so much excuses as they are reasons. I don’t have great financces, because I spent all my money trying to rescue a child with PDA from himself. Ways I thought I should live life. But one day you wake up and realize that unless you flush those reasons, those behavioral patterns and those “look what got in the way” down the drain, you’ll never live a better, happier, healthier, more financially secure, more pleasurable and more fun life. You can wave goodbye to your dreams, your hopes and your desires.

I’ve been filling my brain with personal development lately. I’ve also been really annoyed with some other people not getting their shit together. And by listening to personal development books and making certain distinctions, while studying other people’s patterns, I’ve also seen my own.

There’s always an excuse not to go after your dreams. There are always habits that will get in your way. There are always people who will get in your way. And there is always going to be shit happening that’s going to derail you for a while, or be annoying as F. But there is only one way of getting to where you want to be — do everything in your power to get there and stop at nothing.

If you spent one week, just one week, focusing on a goal you want to achieve, letting yourself be derailed by nothing, how far would you get? If you ignore the house that needs cleaning, the bills that need paying, the lawn that needs mowing, the Netflix movies that need watching, the… If you just focused on that one thing, how far would you get? And if it was a matter of your mother needing surgery and you finding the money in 24 hours, how far would you get? What lengths would you go to? When the stakes are high, we usually get very creative and resourceful. When we think we have till forever to get off our asses and do what we know we must, we usually don’t move.

Move. Run. Go.

Your life is now, not tomorrow.

And if you really want to get that guy naked — there are no excuses. Just act like a cave woman, club him down and drag him to your bedroom. If he doesn’t like it, you weren’t meant to be. Now you can start fantasizing about someone else. (This is a metaphor. Don’t club him down. Just whip his ass and tell him to get his clothes off. Pronto.)

Yours truly,

Dizzy Blonde — aspiring entrepreneur and millionaire


Filed under achievement, diary, Goals, Humor, Insights, Inspiration, Inspirational, Motivation, Personal Development, personal growth, personal stories, success

Why a mop (yes, a mop) is totally going to make your day…

I just got a text saying I qualify for a weekend of free gaming. Now, had it been free chocolate, ice cream, or massages, I’d been down. Or you know: buy whatever you like for your home and body at the V&A (Le Creuset, here I come). Or, at the very least: the mop and bucket I know I need to buy today (because it’s 20% off for Black Friday — when you have to buy something as boring as a mop, do it on Black Friday…). But no, free gaming.

This text annoyed me. Basically, because I’d really like a weekend of free…something that’d be useful. And I have a migraine. And I took the kid to the doctor’s for a checkup after being stuck in a traffic jam and lost half my workday because of this. And I’m waiting for an international transfer to clear so I can have my car back. It’s supposed to clear today. Today. It says it’s taking longer than expected. I was gonna cruise home, the sun in my hair, sing along to Jared Leto, or Rihanna, enjoy the rays dancing over the ocean and…have my car back. Because I really need it. I also really need sex, cuddles, $100k, a new wardrobe, a Vitamix, an air conditioner, a roadworthy and…

But then, it’s really sunny outside. My kid is doing well. He got a free gift at the doctor’s (hello Mr Giraffe and cool sunglasses). I’m super inspired by my career. I’m filling my head with every personal development book there ever was (thank you audio books on Scribd). I am getting my car back, be it today, or not. And someone just smiled at me. A stranger in the office. Smiled and said goodbye. And her smile totally made my day.

You see, sometimes we get stuck in a rut. We start thinking about something we want. Today I got stuck somewhere in between a boyfriend and my grandparents coming back to life. It was an uncomfortable position. Particularly with the migraine.

Yesterday I was on top of the world, because I managed my thoughts. I was so excited about life and work that not even leaving my charger at home faced me. I just kept doing what I could to move forward and accomplished a shitload of things. Today, instead, I felt overwhelmed by deadlines, bills and sexual frustration. Or love frustration. And somehow, in the midst of it all, I really wanted my grandparents back. Possibly because I did have a migraine and was thinking about all the things that would make me feel better. So on the bus I spent an hour feeling sick and miserable and wanting anything from ice cream and long lost grandparents to hot men to perk me up. I could have none of that on the bus, so I just got more and more annoyed. Then I started getting annoyed about lost time for work. Then I started freaking out about deadlines and bills.

This is the power of your mind in action. Take control over your mind and you take control over your life.

When the woman in the office smiled at me, I suddenly remembered how beautiful life is. How wonderful people can be. And started feeling ever so silly about, uhm, being annoyed with texts for free gaming.

Today we got a new family member: Mr Giraffe. He’s pretty small, cuddly and perfectly goofy. That’s a blessing. So is 20% off a bucket for a mop. Why focus on anything else?


Filed under diary, Humor, Mindfulness, Musings, Sarcasm, The Mind

Shhh, don’t speak about it: mortifying humiliation and bikini shots…

I did something incredibly blonde for my birthday, which involved uploading a bikini shot to my business account on Instagram without explanation, as I fell asleep by my phone. I mean the account where I normally post poetry for my business and refuse to do the “selfie promotion” thing. That. 

You see, the day before my birthday, I went to bed late, as I was up preparing a GoFundMe campaign for my child who has PDA (pathological demand avoidance disorder, which falls under the autism spectrum and he is in desperate need of expensive treatment — you can read about it and watch my video in my birthday blog). Which was well and all, but on my birthday I was tired and got into bed around 8:30pm. But my sister was chatting to me on the phone for a long time and then I was trying to upload this video I’d made for Instagram about my fundraising efforts…and fell asleep.  

When filming the video, I thought no one would click on a blurry image of a windblown person. So I thought I’d upload an image from a birthday two years ago where I’m standing on a beach in Athens, which looks a hell of a lot nicer than the windswept me (wearing a cooking apron to boot — my late gran gave it to me and I needed a moral boost that day while cooking) of the other day. You know, using the nice pic as the first part of the story and using the video as the second part. I also thought it was brilliant as I could crack a joke about this blog being naked and all that and I wanted to link the video to the blog I wrote on my birthday about fundraising.

Now, the problem was that my video was longer than the stories permitted on Instagram. So I realised I’d uploaded a bikini pic and half a video. I immediately pressed delete, then tried uploading it as a regular post instead, so as to be able to keep the entire video — but fell asleep while it was “sending.” 

I woke up this morning to the unwelcome news that 50+ people had watched the story I’d “deleted.” 

I fretted about this for a couple of hours, then I started laughing. You see, we’ve had electricity problems for months and while the City of Cape Town has come to fix it, I think three times now, it’s still not working. As my landlords also pulled out our electric water heater, but failed to install the gas one, I don’t have hot water either.

So today, I boiled myself a pot of water to pour over my head as a “shower,” then legged it as I couldn’t blow dry my hair and my son was coming home and if he were to see me leave, he’d have a meltdown and refuse being left with the nanny. Of course, where we live in the woods, the GPS sometimes gets confused, so my Uber driver wasn’t parked by my home, but at a nearby estate. Fearing my son would make it home in time to see me, I was hiding behind a palm tree outside the neighbour’s (whose address does work on a GPS), with soaking wet hair. 

I think back to the time I walked past the lines into Hollywood nightclubs…or for that matter, standing on a beach in Athens feeling glam…and I think about hiding behind a palm tree, waiting for an Uber, sporting clothes I’d put on without buttoning up properly and soaking wet hair…and I laugh. As I was standing behind that palm tree I found everything amusing, including weird bikini shots on Instagram.  

When I recorded the video for GoFundMe, I felt like I spoke about the problems in our family openly for the first time. Putting it to words yesterday in a blog on here, even more so. It was a big step for me. And honestly, I didn’t feel I could do that until Friday, when a psychologist explained to me what’s going on. Prior to that, I’ve had so much self-blame and felt so embarrassed, that I didn’t know how to phrase it. Where do you start? With him stabbing the wall with a knife when asked to have a shower? With me holding him down and screaming on top of my lungs that he’s never going to hurt my family again? With him trying to teach his almost three-year-old brother that I’m a bitch and a cunt and…? 

Yesterday, I started seeing the comedy in it all. Now that I know the most likely diagnosis. Now that I know he doesn’t hate me, nor that he’s not psychotic, or mean. Now that I know that there’s hope for him to be the kind, loving, child that I love. Now that I know that it isn’t my fault that he’s aggressive. Now I can speak about it. 

And when you think back to all those times…him crawling on the floor in supermarkets, him turning the doctor’s waiting room upside down, him breaking the flowers at my favourite coffee shop, him swearing at random strangers… All those times I felt mortally humiliated…they are funny. The suffering he’s been through — the reason he’s behaving like this — is not funny. Nor is the damage he’s caused to people emotionally, or the amount of furniture he’s broken. But, I’m sure you can see the humour in trying to explain to some hot guy why your child just had an absolute fit in their shop. 

My former principal at drama school, Sam Kogan, used to say that when you can see things through the lens of humour, you know you are no longer affected by them emotionally. When you can crack a joke about the trauma you’ve been through, you are free. I used to think you couldn’t crack jokes about the bad things in life. That you had to take them seriously. But, by the end of the day, when you see your own ghosts and ghouls that haunt your mind as hilarious, instead of frightening, or sad, apparitions, you are, in fact, free. You are no longer dictated by them. I’m very thankful Sam taught me that.

I’m not saying I will never again be mortified by something my child does. Most likely I will. But if I can learn to let go of how society thinks he should act, if I can learn to have sympathy for his condition, instead of being frightened of what others will think, then I will be all that much stronger dealing with it. We have a long road ahead where he learns how to handle his condition and overcome the anxiety and emotional misconceptions holding him back, but there is light. There is hope. And there’s me in a bikini on Instagram. 

(Update: yesterday he had a really, really bad fit with the nanny which resulted in him taking it out on himself in the most destructive manner possible and I was mortified. Once again I didn’t know what to say to people. But I explained. And they understood. And we got help. Because it’s all quite understandable and logical once you understand his condition. Now the emergency plan is being put in place for his treatment. And thanks to friends and family donating funds, we may come out it without financial disaster.)

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Filed under autism, autism spectrum, blonde, Comedy, diary, Family, Humor, Special Needs Children, Thoughts

A (hilarious) letter to the Universe from a single mom…

Dear God, or Universe,

I think it’s about time we struck a deal for single mothers. Motherhood is hard on anyone, being single makes it equivalent to climbing Everest. In high heels. Balancing a bottle of wine on your head. So I have decided it’s deal time and below I outline the requirements of this deal. I have ten.

But before that, as a single mother I solemnly swear to do my best to raise brave, good hearted children who are willing to work hard for good causes and who take personal hygiene and good manners seriously. So seriously they may even grow out of their farting phase. This is tricky given I’m raising three kids who were born into a drug den, but I am doing my best. When they swear at me in two different languages I just swear quietly in  my head in five different languages. See, I am really loving and zen about it. 

Now, onto the deal. 

In return for being a single mom, I should get some perks. I mean you understand I need some supporting structures in place in order to pull this off, don’t you? 

Great. Let’s strike a deal. 

  1. A dishwasher. This is crucial, really. Right now I do the dishes three times a day — once after every meal. And given Cape Town is suffering from a water crisis it isn’t just a waste of time, but also of water. There must be a better solution. 
  2. Wine. Ample amounts provided at any hour of the day. When in need, you deliver. 
  3. Coffee. No woman can live on wine alone and it’s a well established fact that you work better and faster when caffeinated. Given the size of my kids’ bills, you better keep it coming. 
  4. Free education. It’s hard enough to foot the feeding bill, so please help me out here. I have one kid with special needs who I have forked out a ton of money on in the shape of therapists, assessments and tutors, one brainy one who attends ghetto school (which really is not cool given last time I checked the kids were hit by the teachers and the teachers by the kids and my kid is starting to have an attitude about school, which is understandable) and one who is in crèche and who started swearing fluently before he turned two, so he must be smart enough for a scholarship. 
  5. Full body massage. At least once a week. Ring a bell for foot massage would also be handy. You see, not only do I cook and clean which keeps me on my toes a lot of the time, I also crawl around the floor looking for toys, carry around a two-year-old, play on the beach, carry the laundry, partake in epic nappy battles (really, it’s always interesting to see who wins — me getting the clothes off the toddler or the toddler keeping them on) and all sorts of other demanding tasks. 
  6. Stress relief. Now, you can get creative here. In fact, I like creativity. But I’d rather like it if it involved fun arty stuff, dancing, adventures, sailing, hot tubs, or escaping the children at least once a month. Because any good mother knows that they need time alone to do the om, namaste, I’m so zen it’s like totally cool thing and drink wine without the possibility of someone cracking a farting joke or pooping their pants. 
  7. A constant supply of essential oils. To keep away the nappy smell and get rid of bacteria naturally. I don’t like to poison us all, but nor do I want to catch all the cold germs they pick up at school. I also happen to calm down when blending perfumes, so it’s a win-win really — the kids get a mom who might not snap at them at the least provocation (such as painting the floor with orange juice), no one gets a cold (or low and behold: a stomach bug) and the house smells nice.
  8. Only nice men in my bed. Preferably one, who is constant. You see, I’m busy. I really don’t have time to run around town in high heels hoping to bump into Mr Right. Especially as I’m prone to being dizzy and blonde so I topple over whenever I see a hot guy. This leads to embarrassment and injuries. Those don’t go well with child raising. And I mean it really shouldn’t be that hard to be with one man, should it? If I manage to raise three kids from a township in Africa I should be able to manage one man. Preferably one who swears less than the kids and has good bedroom manners. And by that I mean really bad ones, if you get my drift. But otherwise his manners should be impeccable. A man in your bed is also vital, given your time to exercise beyond cooking and cleaning from morning till night and playing with the kids is minimal, so you need exercise in bed. And only doing bedroom yoga gets boring fast. Tantra on the other hand… 
  9. A great career. The aforementioned bills are really important — they need to be covered by an income. I’d also like to enjoy my time when working as otherwise I’ll be grumpy, which means the kids won’t like me much, which will be a disaster as I’d quite like them to love me. 
  10. Love. When you are sore, whether in your soul or your muscles, there is nothing more rejuvenating than love. I’d like it in heaps and mountains. Please. I’ll return it in equal amounts and more. Keep the good people in my life raining down.  

That’s it. I’m not averse to bonuses though — feel free to add things like free chocolate and adoption lawyers, an ample supply of clothes for the kids, as much time in Paris and Los Angeles as I like, meals that cook themselves and a hot tub with rustling palm tress and stars overhead. 

Yours truly,

A dizzy blonde and blessed single mother who is sometimes really tired. 


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Filed under Comedy, diary, funny, Humor, jokes, Motherhood, Uncategorized

I feel like a change…maybe I should become a lesbian???

Cover of "Sex and the City: The Movie - E...

Sex And The CITIES…

Warning: sexual, potentially funny content.

I mean, it’s like anal sex: whether you’ve done it or not you are screwed. If you have done it you are a slut, if you haven’t you are frigid. On the other hand, if you screw men, you have men trouble, but if you screw women you don’t get to screw men. Like Charlotte said in SATC – my vagina would be depressed. I mean it’s like life is this constant frustration. Unless of course you find Mr Right who gives you no problems and you get laid for the rest of your life by the greatest shag around, that keeps getting better. Naturally I don’t need men to be happy, it’s just so much easier if someone else carries the shopping for me, rubs my shoulders at night and keeps my vagina happy. And of course you could do just the sex, but that’s like saying you want one piece of chocolate, when really you want the whole bar.

And then there’s the question of what city to live in. In LA everything is totally awesome and in London nothing’s too bad, which kind of sums it up right there, apart from the fact that even though LA is awesome London has everything awesome in it. It’s like that bitch that has Mr Perfect inside her, whereas lovely gorgeous next door is shagging a somewhat alcoholic, fame obsessed nobody with too big a car and an even bigger ego.

My choice of cities feels like my choice of dream marriage: on the one hand I’d love to drive to Mexico on a bike (OK, the man driving, me on the back), get hitched in really high heels and the sexiest skimpiest dress on the planet, drink tequila all night and have my honeymoon in oblivious bliss to the world, high on chocolate, sex and chili. On the other hand I would love a fairytale wedding in France with a hundred people, or more and a honeymoon which is the deepest spiritual journey on the planet, connecting my soul with my husband’s. I always figured I could get married with the aid of tequila first and then do the proper vow once I’ve grown up enough to handle the pressure and need a bit of a lift in my every day life. I mean weddings tend to perk things up. If nothing else you can argue with your mother in law five times a day.

My choice of ideal wedding is kind of like marrying an Angelino v.s. marrying a Londoner (who’s preferably of exotic breed – you need a house in the sun and some HOT blood if you are to survive that town): with the Angelino you feel sure they will file for a divorce and make you a millionaire, whereas with a Londoner it may actually last forever. I guess it depends on what your priorities are.

Life is confusing. Like you want the bad boy and the romance and the skyscrapers and the open fields all at the same time and bohemia and luxury. Like snow and 80 degrees farenheit.

So time for a change? Well the lesbian thing is outruled by logic: I can’t take prozac for my vagina. Marriage ain’t gonna happen anytime soon, so that’s outruled too. That leaves moving cities. Well, who knows? I don’t. Maybe I should just try a new pair of shoes first? Prada, Prada… Where’s my sugar daddy when I need him??? Or at least a bad boy with a pure heart???

“The universe may not always play fair, but at least it’s got a hell of a sense of humor.” – SATC

Miranda Hobbes: If he goes up your butt, will he respect you more or respect you less? That’s the issue.
Taxi Driver: [to Carrie] No smoking in the cab.
Carrie: Sir, we’re talking up the butt. A cigarette is in order.
Samantha Jones: Front, back, who cares? A hole is a hole.
Miranda Hobbes: Can I quote you?
Samantha Jones: Don’t be so judgmental. You could use a little back door.
Charlotte: I’m not a hole.
Carrie: Honey, we know.


There’s a reason becoming a lesbian is out ruled by logic. Or men. Like this.

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Filed under Humor, sex, Uncategorized

Hugh Hiscock and Co…

Harry Anis worked late at the lawfirm Tittsworth & Grabbe, to avoid going home to disputes with his wife, Sue-Anne. He really liked Anne Ahl, his secretary, who would bring his lunch from Mrs Cheri Pitts’ restaurant, where the menu was created by Al Fresco and Al Dente. Harry Anis was a good lawyer, but felt threatened by the upshot, Mr Cockshott, whom also liked Anne Ahl. The owner of the firm, Mrs Bossom, tried to console him – he may be older, but he had won cases against Jack Haas, Dick Tator, Sue Yu, Anna Sasin, Rob Banks, Rich Guy, Lou Pole and Jed Dye. Mr Cockshott had only won against Eddie Bull, Corey Ander, Chris P. Bacon, Pepe Roni, Kandi Apple, Sue Flay and Brock Lee. Still, when Harry Anis felt too threatened by Cockshott, he’d go to his friends Dan Saul Knight, Kerry Oki and Brandy Anne Koch to have chat. They’d tell him to stop glaring at Anne Ahl (who was really into Mr Gene Poole) and sulk about his wife and instead go and have some fun with Fanny O’Rear, or Bonnie Beaver, at least when their buff brothers Hugh Hiscock and Dick Bender were out of town… And, by the end of the day, there was always his mother, Liv Good, who made him smile and his childhood sweetheart Mrs Ben Dover, who always did what he liked. By the end of the day, as Laura Norder always said: it was all in order in a peculiar way.

Funny names….really funny names…

Cockburn, Dick Bender, Bullcock (former teacher of mine), Bossom (someone I called today), Cocks, Dick Tator, Cockfield (don’t get lost amongst the flowers guys..), Hugh Jass (huge ass), Dick Bush (…shave…), Cheri Pitts,  Dan Saul Knight, Cockshott, Al Dente, Brandy D. Cantor, Al Fresco, Anne Al (that was a friend of mine…), Anna Sasin, Constance Noring, Brock Lee, Corey Ander (…there would have been a break-up…I intend to marry Carda Mom), Annie Howe, Butterworth, Neil Down (my darling!), Mary A. Richman, Forest Wood, Ben Down, Lou Pole, Eileen Dover (maybe I did…uh…), Bonnie Beaver, Rob Banks, Price Wright, Dinah Soares, Brandy Anne Koch, Chris P. Bacon, Corey O. Graff, (be mine..) Matt Tress, Daryl Rhea, Lily Pond, Leigh King, Levon Coates (don’t, please…), Dick Hunter (great job!), Jack Haas, Harry Anis, Kandi Apple, Harry C. Beaver (peeping Tom..), Dr. Hurt, Sue Flay, Eddie Bull (may I add chocolate darling?), Emma Royds, R. Slicker, Raynor Schein, Lewis N. Clark, I. Ball, Pierce Cox, Sue Yu, Earl Lee Riser, Pepe Roni, Kent C. Strait, Easton West,  Pierce Hart, Pat Downe (working in the airport, are we???), Oliver Sutton, Laura Norder (can I have an audition please?), Fanny O’Rear, Gene Poole (take a dive…), Harry R. M. Pitts (and btw. Pitt is cock in Swedish…Brad Pitt…), Rich Guy, Holly McRell, Raney Schauer, Kerry Oki, Paige Turner, Sy Burnette, (hey dad, here’s my new boyfriend…) Jack Goff, Jed Dye (…to know is not enough, one must do…), Justin Inch, Liv Good…
Kudos to

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A bad sense of humor…

WARNING: These are potentially the worst jokes and insights I’ve come up with thus far. I blame it all on Hubba Bubba. I take no responsibility for the content, your reaction to it, or anything else. Thank you.

Everyone in this town is part of AA. Not because they have a drinking problem, but because they want to date the stars.

Sex is easy, ‘cuz it lasts five minutes to five hours. Love is tricky ‘cuz it lasts a lifetime.

One has to be thankful to the people whom teaches one what one does not want, or wish to be.

Poor people make art they hope the rich people will buy.

Everyone who has found their inner babe come to LA to make the physical change for their inward transformation.

You went from a small, soft marshmallow to a Snickers Bar and I take full credit for the transformation.

Most bad men are pleasing and most good men unsatisfying.

The best networking opportunity you can find in LA is called Rehab.

In London if you ask someone how they are, they will invariably reply: not too bad. They have to come to LA to find out what “totally awesome” is all about. Where to go to find an honest answer I don’t know.

Everyone serious try to forget their sins. Everyone laughing live for theirs.

Total anarchy is when five single men and five single women are left alone on a deserted island. Total sophistication is when five married couples are left alone on a deserted island with five separated houses. All with open back doors and a lot of late nights at the office.

It used to be easy to keep a nice profile. Now you can be tagged in a hundred photos over night.

I love your sex drive honey, please know your destination.

Everyone can love a stranger. To love your own shadow is much more challenging.

The best dinner date I ever had was when the dinner was the date.

“You’re bad in bed” really means “You didn’t please me.” Selfish.

Someone once smiled at me in the tube in London. I considered calling security to report suspicious behavior.

What happens in Vegas stays on Facebook.

Charming people have a devastating effect on one’s sanity.

You’re like a Hubba Bubba chewing gum: sweet, soft, innocent and with perfect bubbles…

I so love men who speak with their crotch.

One bad experience can put you off five hundred good ones.

Love solves most things, but it’s hard to sell.

My best friend and our Greek popstar were having an argument one day. He hid her pistachios in his pocket. “Get the nuts out of your pocket!!!!!” She yelled so loudly I believe the neighbors may have gotten frightened.

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When all hell breaks out…murder with sex appeal…

Sex Appeal

Problem solving is sexy...

So you come home, bloody exhausted after a long day, longing to jump into bed and………sleep. After sitting down for five minutes though you manage to swallow down a slice of (raw) cheese and some fruit, put on your warmest clothes and…walk over to the neighbor’s to get the dog out. You are welcomed by wet kisses and paws that go everywhere they aren’t supposed to. Then you are taken for a walk (this dog has a mind of her own – you can try to walk her, but she will walk you. Or sit down on her ass and refuse to move). This time she dragged me along to a tiny little park (or empty lot of land). It was freezing cold (it actually snowed for five minutes that day!!!) and the wind was gently rustling around in the bushes. Looking up at the night sky it was beautifully lit by stars. It was like the perfect romantic moment…until a palm tree started making weird noises (I couldn’t decide whether it was the wind shaking it, or if someone was standing behind it and having a blast watching my face turning paler and paler…I naturally decided that it was the first, but a sense of…practicality, shall we say…made me consider other options…) and I decided we better go home (which I managed to pursue her Majesty to agree to).

To sum it all up – I had a wonderful walk (minus the palm tree, but that is…a minor detail). Mainly because her Majesty had been home alone all day and was super excited to see me, which made me happy. And I got to have imaginary conversations with her and pet her head for an hour. I mean surely, we all know that it helps talking to yourself???… It’s the best ever remedy for solving problems. Especially when a dog listens and clearly understands every single word (not).

My point with all this rambling…I did have one and it wasn’t the palm tree you see…

“Murder me with sex appeal”….no that’s just something I heard on the radio…

So yeah, the point….hold your breaths, please…is that when I walked to get the dog out I didn’t do it for my sake – I was ready to pass out on the couch. I did it for her sake. And as I strotted along with her on this freezing cold night I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Why? Because I wasn’t thinking about my own problems. I was focused on what was making the doggy happy.

Often we get a bit caught up in the general mess of things (a.k.a. our lives). I know what it feels like. I do it all the time. That’s why I like friends and coaches as they will look at things from a different POV (point of view) and suddenly the “problems” have been re-framed into solutions. E.g. “I’m going through a divorce, it’s really hard with the lawyers, all the memories when we first got together, all the crushed dreams…!” ….re-frame… “I am so happy I am finally free to live life on my terms again, having learnt what I did about relationships and now being so much more ready for spending time with myself and finding my ultimate mate.”

I know, I know…it’s very tempting to sit and think about “the good old days” when you were having so much fun with your now ex, or your company was making a million more a year, or your house was ten times bigger… Yet, in this moments lies all the opportunities in the world. And if you have a look around, maybe you will discover that you, at least for a day, can take a break from your problems. How? You can live for someone else for a day. You can set your worries aside and worry for them instead. You can pour all your heart and mind into their lives You can try out what it feels like thinking about something else all day long. Oftentimes I don’t understand how people have the energy to keep up all their problems. And when you look at them from the outside you see how utterly ridiculous they are as well…because often they aren’t real. And even if they are, shouldn’t the question be: what can I do right now to make the most of my life? Not sitting blaming yourself, others and the world. Shit happens. Your attitude is your own.

A lot of my problems in the past have been ego. The need to be perfect. The need for success. So for me to focus on giving, instead of what others think of me is a huge thing. I always want to help others, but often, at least in the back of my mind, I have also worried about other peoples’ opinion of me. And it has, quite frankly, ruined my life. It has taken the joy out of so many things. (This is why I should go to a karaoke night and do a solo number. Then the worry will be gone. Ahem…)

As I see it, there are about four ways to solve a problem:

1) Face the fear so that the fear disappears. Imagine the worst ever that could happen. Imagine living through that with a positive attitude. (There’s a difference between the person dying saying: “I am so thankful for the life I have had. I am so thankful for the experience I was given and for these last few days to truly enjoy my life.” And the person saying: “This is unfair. This shouldn’t be me. There’s no point to life. I’m dying anyway.” I know that’s taking it to the extreme, but when I was facing my own fear of dying, I had to do just that.)

2) Re-frame it: From problem to opportunity.

3) Solve the problem. Some problems have to be solved. Ask for help if you need it. Don’t be ashamed you have a problem. We all have problems.

4) Leave it. We all want success in a ton of different ways. Yet, success may not be what we think it is. May not make us smile, laugh and love life. Instead of wanting to become a multi-millionaire…go volunteer at the local hospital, help a friend, donate your energy to giving… Invest your time in other peoples’ problems. Maybe you will discover yours don’t exist and maybe, just maybe you will find a new meaning to life.

5) (P.S. Remember: love is all there is.)

So ya know. Next problem that comes along: murder it with sex appeal. No one can resist you when you turn it on. When those long lashes of yours come this way…and that heart of yours is turned on…who can resist love? True heartfelt love? Not I… So turn it on and turn it up. I’m gonna go hide behind the couch before you drop by here….ah right, you don’t have my address anyway, so maybe I’ll be safe for another day???…


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