Tag 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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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

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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?

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

Reclaim your (sensual) power…

We’re all sensual creatures. Most of the time we forget. Because, well, sitting in the office, on the phone with GoDaddy asking them to please, for the love of some God up yonder, can they sort out your blooming hosting properly? But the truth is, we can sit saying that, with our suspenders on, our backs straight and a sensual smile on our lips. Even if we happen to be wearing a sack of potatoes (as the Swedish saying goes), we can ooze sensuality. It’s a state of mind.

Many times (too many times) we give up our power to circumstance. I happened to look up just now (which is now a week ago or so) and CNN is on (muted) and saw a headline about what Trump had said about Obama and Putin. There were then two guys expressing their opinions about the statement.

Trump says something and half the world erupts into a debate about it. People spend insane amounts of time debating the words and actions of politicians (not to mention: tweeting about it). But who lives next to them, or what they’re doing to save their own neighborhood remains, well, debatable.

We all have power to change the world. Not least, our own homes, neighborhoods and cities. But it’s easier to swear over Trump (or Obama if you prefer), than donating 8 hours a month to a charity that does good where you live, or deciding that it’s time to sort out your close relationships.

World news are great in that we can find out what’s going on. They can help prevent genocide and a number of other atrocities. And we do tend to find out what illegal thing Trump did next.

However, if there was a fire in China and you live in the US, you can either spend five minutes watching the news about the fire, or five minutes cheering up the elderly neighbor next door. Or, you know, plant some trees to make up for what the fire destroyed.

You can use a search engine that plants trees (Ecosia) and hand out free LED lights to those who can’t afford to buy them, instead of bitching about climate change.

People love doomsday theories and talking about how the world is going to go down because of politicians, but rarely do they start an awareness campaign in their own neighborhood about how to change things around. Right there. Right where they are. Right where they can actually do something.

The thing is, politicians and corporates have little power if everyone boycotts them. Yes, you may want to stay aware of what’s going on (and I’m at fault there — I have little time for anything but my own work and family), but spending hours every week watching the news isn’t going to help. Watch the fifteen minute sum-up (or enjoy the late night piss-take) and spend the other hours actually doing something other than expressing your anger on Twitter.

Just my two cents, but then I live in South Africa where, if people didn’t do something, we’d all be in the shit as the government here isn’t exactly efficient and poverty and violence abounds. Here, charity is a way of life.

Image source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/507780926734757275/

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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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Image Source: https://www.pinterest.se/pin/507780926731441250/ 

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

Love and life and inside-out knickers…

Do you ever screw up your vibration? No, not vibrator. Don’t screw the vibrator. Or do. The point, in this case, is your personal vibration. Or the vibration you use when dealing with others.

I was chatting to my coach yesterday and told him I could see myself reacting to something. Like, say, your neighbor did something and you see yourself running into their house screaming that’s totally unacceptable. Or you get scared of a situation looming on the horizon and feel like removing yourself from it entirely. Or someone annoys you and you feel like telling them to fuck off, even though you quite like them. You are in some form of reaction or another, most likely one you’ve been in before.

Ever found yourself reacting the same way in personal relationships? Or work relationships? Yeah.

So I saw myself wanting to react the way I normally do in a particular situation. I didn’t want to react that way, because I know it doesn’t serve me, so I asked my coach what to do? His reply? Shift your focus to love. You’re coming from a place of love.

Suddenly life became very simple.

Life is simple. It’s just we complicate it all the time because our ego gets in the way. We feel hurt, so we hurt. We feel humiliated so we run and hide, or get furious. Half of the time these emotions come from interpreting situations in idiotic ways. Using our ego to look at something, basically and then acting on that. Or using our past to cross reference a situation, when, in fact, in our past we’ve used our ego to navigate the world and it didn’t end up too great, did it?

Sometimes, when I know my ego is in operation, I do the polar opposite of what I want to do. I want to run and hide, I step bravely forward. I want to go aloof, I chat till tomorrow. I want to lash out in anger, I retract with humility. But just doing the polar opposite doesn’t change the underlying ego hick-up that’s making me want to react in the first place. Shifting to a perspective where you’re coming from love does.

I know I’m in a pretty good mood these days, because my sense of humor has returned. I started laughing about screwing with vibrators vibrations yesterday, after posting the following on Facebook: “All three kids in bed by 8:30pm (and no one got seriously traumatized in the process), the dishes done, breakfast prepped…the age of miracles has arrived! (That’s not to say that I didn’t put my knickers on inside out this morning as I was so stressed getting the kids to school BUT they arrived on time AND I managed to shower which is miraculous. Seriously. Never mind the knickers.)”

My sense of humor is still as dirty as it ever was, but at least I’m picking up clean laundry from the laundrette today, so there’s hope…but then again I’m not sure I ever want an entirely clean mind. Everyone who says I’m a bad person because I have a blog with sexy headlines (but who not-so-secretly read Fifty Shades)  would suddenly lose their angle. I mean that would be so sad. My ego would be like totally upset there wasn’t anyone who imaginarily hated me anymore. Shame.

Dizzy blonde, over and out.

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Image Source: https://www.pinterest.se/pin/507780926731203425/ 

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I might be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it… (a.k.a. the tiger inside)

As faithful readers will know I’ve kept this blog dormant for a while. Why? Apart from a lack of time, I got scared. I got scared of perception. You see, I have a knack for Carrie Bradshaw (OK, Samantha) style headlines (sexual metaphors) and the sense of humor to go with it. A lot of people enjoyed that with my writing, others got confused and thought my life was all about sex, when in reality I was usually working or, you know, cleaning up the house after the kids. The sex was in the headlines, metaphors and jokes. In other words: it was for entertainment purposes, not a reflection of my life, though I may at times vent my opinions surrounding the topic of sex.

Other people got offended by the headlines and the metaphors; people who view sex in an entirely different way than I do. I have had men touch me up and give me indecent proposals over the years when traveling the world, so trust me, I know that not all associations with sex are pleasant. Yet, I’ve been spared from the really bad stuff and for that I’m grateful and I’m very happy about the current #metoo campaign because awareness is important, but Confessions isn’t about sexual abuse. It’s about playfulness and having a twinkle in the eye.

With sex some people also think that because you speak about sex you have no morals. To me morals are about honesty, ethics, etc. and I have been acused more than once of being stuck up with my morals as I won’t cut corners, but I can write a joke about Jesus and threesomes without feeling the least bad about it. It’s a joke. I’m not degrading the teachings of Jesus, I’m cracking a joke. Likewise, cracking a joke about a toe is one thing, a vagina another, apparently. Yet, why is a part of our body taboo?

Here’s a not so big secret for you: I was the most inhibitied person as a child. I was so shy I didn’t speak unless spoken to. I was scared of what people thought of me no matter what I did (usually they were only thinking of themselves, of course) and I fought like a tiger to break free of my self-imposed prison (or well it wasn’t entirely self-imposed, it arose as a result of mental abuse, where my reaction was to create a prison to keep the bad out, but also keep the good in so no one could take it away from me; no one could bully me for the real me if I didn’t show it). Not being able to be yourself out of fear is hell. Truly. I want everyone to be able to break free and I want to talk about the shit people consider taboo. Because not having the confidence to be you makes for a nightmarish life. And usually one filled with resentment as you will resent people if you think they’ll judge you for who you are.

When it comes to this blog, some people also fell in love with my writing and didn’t realize that my writing is like 3% of who I am. Sure, I’m very honest in my blogs, but it’s still a very small part of my life and I didn’t necessarily like some of the attentions I got. Nor did I like when people read something and completely misunderstood it. It was very annoying to have my thoughts turned upside down. Whatever you say truly can be turned against you.

Then there were the people who said I degraded myself by having this blog. I, an intellectual, goody-good girl who works with children and charity, couldn’t possibly put my reputation on the line by writing about sex. And of course, I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. As I want to adopt kids, this scared me maybe more than anything else.

Lastly, there was me. While I loved expressing myself and loved hearing the comments I got about how my blog helped and inspired people over the years, I also knew that some of the headlines I came up with were taking things too far. I got numb. You do after writing over 900 posts, of which more than half have some sort of sexual connotation. I mean I can make anything sound like sex, trust me. Really. Give me something to talk about and I’ll turn it into a sexual metaphor, which usually cracks me up, but there is a point when you take it too far simply because you want to sell something. You want to come up with something more sensational just to get the views. Your ego is now running the show, not your twinkle in the eye, or sense of humor.

Of course, as you can see, there was more ego in the mix, because I was thinking about what people were thinking about me. Cue my childhood.

Ego is a bitch. Seriously.

Now my point, dear readers (as you know, it always comes…eventually), is that I miss this blog. I miss it terribly. It was the place where I used to gather my thoughts and laugh till I cried over my own jokes (I know, I know…). So if Caitlyn Moran and Bridget Jones can talk sex and swear like true Londoners, then so can I.  It’s OK to be me, so long as it comes from the heart, not the ego.

And the moral lesson, or deep insight that I so love to share in my blogs? Today, well, today I was thinking that there is no greater strength than openness, vulnerability and honesty. It’s the only way of getting what we want, because we can only get what we want when we are true to ourselves. Just as I have to be sure not to use sexual metaphors and stilettoes as shields (esp. in my love life), we all have to make sure we open our hearts. Otherwise, first of all we attract the shield (ego), not our heart. Secondly, when we wear armor, we trap all the bad things inside as well. Face the hurt and let it go. Face the joy and allow it to fly, or it will only be you holding onto memories and not living in the present.

When our life is a reflection of who we are, we know we are living from the heart. Letting go of the shield to get us there is sometimes painful, but I do believe it’s worth it.

Right, that’s it. Confessions is back. (And for those who are wondering: yes, I made a lot of old posts private because…well “up the ass” was maybe not one of my finer headlines…but I will keep my Carrie Bradshaw jokes about the subject, as seen in the humor section. The Jesus jokes too.)

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Image Source: https://za.pinterest.com/pin/287597126173631368/

 

 

 

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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.

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

Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/507780926715996033/

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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 http://www.ethanwiner.com/funnames.html

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