Sunday, January 31, 2010

Time to pick on the Brakpan Girls

Every country has an area thats just diffrent and well you know what I mean. Ours here in South Africa is Brakpan and the girls there are a delightful bunch Heheeeeee :0)


Here are a few Tales

A Brakpan girl walks into the local dry cleaners.
She places a garment on the counter. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon to pick up my dress." she says.
"Come again?" says the half deaf worker.
"No" she replies. "This time it's mayonnaise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Brakpan girl was involved in a serious crash.
The paramedics arrive and drag the girl out of the car till she's lying flat out on the road.
Medic: "OK, I'm going to check if you're concussed."
Brakpan: "Ok."
Medic: "How many fingers am I putting up?"
Brakpan: "Oh my god I'm paralysed from the waist down!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brakpan girl goes to Home Affairs to register for child benefit.
"How many children?" asks the assessor?
"Ten" replies the Brakpan girl,
"Ten?" says the Home Affairs worker.
"What are their names?"
"Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren, Warren and Warren"
"Doesn't that get confusing?"
"Naah..." says the Brakpan girl. "Its great because if they are out playing in the street I just have to
shout Warren, YOUR SUPPER'S READY or Warren GO TO BED NOW and they all do it..."
"What if you want to speak to one individually?" says the perturbed Home Affairs worker.
"That's easy," says the Brakpan girl... "I just use their surnames"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Brakpan girl goes into a sex shop & asks for a vibrator.
The man says: "Choose one from our range on the wall."
She says "I'll take the red one."
The man replies: "You can't, that's a fire extinguisher."

Going to wack a little Boerewors on the Braai later with a few cold beers


Boerewors is the traditional South African Sausage made to be done on a barbecue as the English or yanks would say we just call it a Braai. Now there are a million different versions of this sausage but man they all have one thing in common they work so well over wood or charcoal coals.


Recipe for Boerewors
.

Ingredients

4 Tablespoons Worcester Sauce

2 kg (4.4 lb) prime Beef
1 kg (2.2 lb) Pork
10 g (25 ml or 5 tsp) Coriander
2 ml (½ tsp) ground Cloves
2 ml (½ tsp) ground Nutmeg
30 g (25 ml or 5 tsp) fine Salt
5 ml (1 tsp) freshly ground Black Pepper
500 g (±1 lb) Bacon
100 ml Vinegar
Casing (Pork casing is good)

Preparing The Coriander (15ml produces 5ml)

1. Place in dry pan, heat and stir until light brown.

2. Grind, sieve to remove husk. Grind remainder to a fine powder. (A plastic food storage bag and a rolling pin works well. Recently I've been using an old coffee grinder.)

Making The Boerewors

1. Cut meat into approximately 25mm (1 inch) cubes.

2. Let the cubed meat stand for a while to allow excess blood to drain.

3. Cut bacon into small pieces. Mix all the meat and spices. Add the vinegar and Worcester sauce and mix well.

4. Put the prepared mixture in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

5. Grind all together. Do not grind it too fine - use the cutter that has ±¼ inch holes.

6. Stuff the mixture into the casing, but be careful to not overstuff.

If you've never made boerewors before, here's a more complete description on how to make boerewors.

In memory of an old friend Gary Van Tonder who lived life to the full and felt much like below about Sundays

I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for desert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt
And I shaved my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stair to meet the day.
Well, I smoke my brain the night before
With cigarettes and songs that I'd been a picking
But I lit my first and watched the small kid
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone cookin' chicken
And it took me back to something
That I'd lost somewhow, somewhere along the way.
On a Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing sure of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepy city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down.
In the park I saw a daddy
With the laughing little girl that he was swinging
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the song that they were singing.
Then I headed back for home
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.
On the Sunday morning sidewalk
Wishing Lord that I was stoned
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing sure of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
On the sleepy city sidewalk
Sunday morning coming down...

Hey now I think I am going to market these License Disc Holders In this Country

I think these are just so cool

Friday, January 29, 2010

Ladies and Gentelman the Yucca a darn good hooligan juice

Ingredients
  • 10 Lemons Quartered

  • 2 Oranges Quartered

  • 1 Bottle Vodka or Tequila or Bacardi

  • 5 litre bucket or glass container full of ice

  • 2 cups Sugar

Preparation

I found out about yucca while on a fishing trip. I don’t know where the name came from. Here is the recipe: Squeeze the juice from the fruit over the bucket full of ice. Toss in the peels when that’s done as well. Add the sugar, and pour the Alcohol over the whole lot mix or if you have a lid shake well. While sitting around the campfire one evening some friends introduced us to yucca. Now when the jar gets passed to you, you give it a shake, twist off the lid and have a gulp. There is a ritual that goes with it. If you don’t shake it first you loose a turn. If you take too small of a drink, you must drink more until everyone is satisfied that you didn't cheat yourself. This stuff is seriously nice to drink believe it or not. However beware it is serious Hooligan making juice and can cause you to loose track of time and space





I just love Barry Hilton he's the Cousin

Was watching a video of Barry last night he is such a card
here is quick sketch on Zimbabwe

video

BARRY HILTON, “The Cousin”, has reached international status as a stand-up comedian performing all over the world. Many agree that he is, without a doubt, one of the top comedians South Africa has ever seen

Now this I know is a dodgy subject but I had to put this in I think it is so funny! It's a real smooth story :0)

From a blog out there written by a woman

So what are we oversharing about today?

Bikini waxes.

Um. Yeah.

Vagina waxing.

Grand.

So last year, in December, for my birthday, The Boyfriend gives me a voucher for a spa day, and tells me to choose from their menu of treatments. So I do. I decide to have a massage, (a 45 min back, neck and shoulder massage – because I have issues with other people touching me, and what if a full-hour is too long and what if it freaks me out and then I have to lie there for an entire hour?) a facial, (because I want one) a manicure, (not a pedicure – because I can’t stand people touching my feet) an eyebrow wax and tint and an eyelash tint (because I’ve never had one, and it sounds cool) and……a bikini wax….

Why? Because I like to be smooth down there, and waxing seemed like the way to go, although I could never work up the balls to book an appointment for myself to get it done. And self-waxing strips at home didn’t seem like an option. I mean come on – who is seriously going to WAX THEIR OWN VAGINA? That would involve mirrors and staring into your own….well, you get the idea.

Shaving is fine – because I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even have to look anymore.

But….back to the story.

So I decide. Vagina waxing must happen. And it must happen for my birthday.

I think nothing more of it – after all – I’ve been through child-birth – what could be worse than that, right? (Okay, so I had a c-section under general anaesthetic, but so what?) My spa day rolls around, I put on my comfy pants, make sure to put on underpants and I smoke a joint beforehand – you know, to relax me – and I surrender my body and face and hands to the beauticians at said spa.

The massage was wonderful. I wish it could have lasted longer. The “spa manicure”? That made me snort. The thing that makes it a “spa” manicure? They soak your hands in a bowl of warm water before they start the treatment. Seriously. The eyebrow wax and eyebrow tint and eyelash tint was cool. Took me a bit of time to adjust to having such dark eyebrows, but I will definitely do that again at the end of the month. The facial? Absolutely incredibly divine. Was still reasonably stoned at this stage, and the hot steam blowing in my face was pretty orgasmic for my skin. I fell asleep during my 90 minute facial.

The best was clearly saved for last. The vagina wax. Initially, having no idea what varieties were on offer, I’d opted for a plain bikini wax, but then when the tiny brunette beautician (or whatever the fuck they call themselves) lead me by the hand into a small, dark room and I explained to her what I wanted, it turned out to be a little bit more along the lines of what Sass describes in this post, only sans backdoor waxing** – in other words – a full vaginal wax.

So she tells me to take off all my clothes, put on this wrap-around towel thing and hands me a DISPOSABLE G-STRING. All neatly wrapped up in its own little box. A DISPOSABLE g-string. Like hospital broeks, but the porno version.

I lie down on the bed, she dims the lights and turns the music up. You know, really setting the romantical mood. Not. She runs her hand up my thigh and parts them. Tells me to put my one foot under my other knee. So now I’m lying on the bed, in a wraparound towel, wearing a disposable g-string, with my legs waaaaiiiiiiiide open.

My face is on fire. I’m trying not to think about the fact that there is a little brunette woman, standing between my legs, about to touch me in a place no one except my boyfriend has for the past three years. (Okay, my obstetrician/gynaecologist touched me there A LOT – but you know, it was unavoidable and I didn’t volunteer for it). She peers into a little tub that’s bubbling with blue liquid, and pokes a wooden lollypop stick into it. I wont go into too much more detail here, except to say: OHMYDEARSWEETBABYJESUSINASHOPPINGCART it hurt when she pulled it off. And it was only a teeny-tiny little bit she’d applied just to give me an indication of what waxing felt like.

I then understood why she’d turned the music up loud. It wasn’t to set the mood. It was to drown out my shrieks of ‘OH DEAR GOD THAT FUCKING HURTS’ and ‘MOTHER OF FUCK, IS *THAT* REALLY NECESSARY?’. It fucking hurt, and it fucking hurt bad. Even worse was the fact that she kept touching the area she’d just violated, with her fingers – attempting to soothe the skin – and she kept putting her face right in my crotch, and blowing vigorously on my vagina. I have no idea what for, other than the fact that it was completely mortifying. Even more so mortifying was the fact that she’d have to apply pressure on my labia when pulling the wax off, to avoid pulling my entire vagina right off my body. Even though I have small, neat little lips, when wax is involved – goddamn they become STRETCHY. And stretching HURTS.

The procedure that probably took in total 20 minutes, felt longer than my manicure, massage and facial combined. I was convinced she was going to kill me, and that I was going to pass out from the pain. She kept telling me that the next time I had it done it would be much less painful, and that it would progressively become less painful. “WTF-EVER” was all that was going through my mind.

I’d initially opted to have ‘all off’. And working around the g-string – what with pulling it all over the place and fiddling under it – was painful. All of it was painful. I was bordering on dying of pain when eventually I said to her YOU HAVE GOT TO STOP NOW. So I conceded to having a Brazilian. A little ‘landing strip’. Mostly because I was petrified of her touching my clitoris, and mostly because that part would have been fucking painful. I chickened out, and walked out of there feeling considerably plucked, tucked and totally fucked.

My vagina was on fire – it was red and puffy and I walked much like a cowboy does when he hasn’t realised yet that he no longer has his horse between his legs. It was sore. And it was sore for the next 24 hours. But after that? Smooth as a baby’s bottom.

And it stayed that way for longer than 3 weeks, which is great. Would I ever do it again? Probably.

But I’m definitely going to apply some kind of numbing cream to my vagina beforehand. And I’m definitely going to smash a bottle of vodka in the parking lot.

But I’m definitely not going to ask for the same chick again. In fact, I hope that place has a high staff turnover.

Because seriously. How are you honestly supposed to look a person in the eye when they’ve been looking you square in the vag for the last twenty minutes?

Original Post http://www.expensivemistakescheapthrills.co.za/

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Check out your mate before you get married

A Johannesburg man met a beautiful blonde lady from Vereeniging at a party in Pretoria and decided he wanted to marry her right away.

She said, "But we don't know anything about each other."

He said, "That's all right, we'll learn about each other as we go along."

So she consented, they were married and off they went on a honeymoon to a very nice resort on the South Coast of Natal.

One morning they were lying by the pool when he got up off of his towel, climbed up to the 10 meter board and did two and a half tuck, followed by three rotations in the pike position, at which point he straightened out and cut the water like a knife.

After a few more demonstrations, he came back and lay down on the towel.. She said, "That was incredible!"

He said, "I used to be an Olympic diving champion. You see, I told you we'd learn more about each other as we went along."

So she got up, jumped in the pool, and started doing laps. After seventy-five laps she climbed out of the pool, lay down on her towel, and was hardly out of breath. He said, "That was incredible! Were you an Olympic endurance swimmer?"

No," she said, "I was a prostitute in Vereeniging, but I worked both sides of the Vaal Dam.

Malva Pudding quite literally the best South African Pudding you can Imagine

This always reminds me of home as a child it's the best Sunday pudding Yummy

Ingredients:

Malva Pudding

  • 3/4 cup sugar

  • 2 large eggs

  • 1 tablespoon apricot jam (or preserves, chopped very finely)

  • 145 g all-purpose flour

  • 1 teaspoon baking soda

  • 1/2 teaspoon salt

  • 1 tablespoon butter (a generous tablespoon)

  • 1 teaspoon vinegar

  • 1/3 cup milk
SAUCE

  • 3/4 cup fresh cream

  • 100 g butter

  • 140 g sugar

  • 1/3 cup hot water

  • 1 teaspoon vanilla essence
Directions:

Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius or 350 Fahrenheit. Beat or whip the sugar and eggs, preferably in a food processor, until thick and lemon colored. Then, add the apricot jelly (or jam) and mix thoroughly.

Sieve together the flour, soda and salt. Melt the butter (do not boil!) and add the vinegar. Add this mixture, as well as the milk, to the egg mixture in the processor, alternately with the flour. Beat well.

Pour into an oven-proof dish, and bake for 45 to 50 minutes. In a pot, melt together the ingredients for the sauce. When the cake is halfway baked, take it out of oven. Make holes in cake with a skewer and pour the sauce over the pudding. Return to the oven. Serve with cream or custard

This will put an end to the discussion on whether I have a decent six-pack or not!


Heya and there you have it the proof

I like this an article from an in flight magazine

South Africans, ah but your land is beautiful!

I attempt to give an imaginary person who wants to visit South Africa an idea of what South Africa is like.

Thank you so much David from Uzbekistan for your questions about my country. I must say, your name is pretty normal, not that it wouldn’t be normal if it were Uzbekistani-sounding, not that I know what it sounds like. Let me stop while I’m behind. I am going to answer some of your questions. Here goes.

1: I live in the biggest city in this country, Johannesburg, otherwise known as eGoli, City of Gold. One of the only cities in the world that was built on gold. Literally. It also happens to be the world’s biggest man-made forest.

2: To answer your question: yes, there are many beautiful women in South Africa. Whenever I’ve left the country I always run into men talking about the beauty of South African women. I couldn’t agree with these people more, sometimes when I find myself walking around and see all the beautiful women we’ve been blessed with, I feel like I died and woke up in South Africa.

3: I love my country except for the days Julius Malema says something err … colourful.

4: The best thing about South Africa? Wow! How can you ask me that? There are so many best things about South Africa (including myself of course). I’d have to say besides the obvious things like the landscape, the wild life (some of my relatives could be mistaken for wild life by the way but don’t tell them). I’d have to say it’s the people. They are amazing. We have some of the friendliest people, so very nice. Some of them though are so nice and polite that they get too shy to ask you for stuff, so they might just take your wallet without asking you. It’s just that they are so very shy. Avoid those ones though.

5: The most interesting thing about this country is that its prisons have a propensity for creating greatness. How you may wonder. During the second Anglo-Boer War, the great Englishman Winston Churchill was arrested but escaped his captors, he would go on to write a successful book about his escapades. Then there was the Mahatma Gandhi who was also imprisoned in South Africa, incidentally he would go on to become a thorn in Winston Churchill’s side, but that’s a story for another day. And of course, our very own Madiba, Nelson Mandela. Our prisons do create greatness indeed. Oh, don’t start thinking that you should go steal a television or something. Things might not turn out so well for you. One thing’s for sure though, they certainly don’t make the same quality inmate as they did in the old days.

6: Oh yes, I do believe we will do extremely well in the World Cup. I know a lot of people are profoundly sceptical. We should get rid of this unattractive sense of pessimism when it comes to our national team. I am very pro-Bafana Bafana, (that would be the nickname of our team). Many worry that we don’t have a lot of strikers. They seem to overlook the fact that we have a lot of trade unions and they have a lot of strikers. Perhaps they should be deployed, so to speak, in the national team.

7: Oh, yes! We have produced many famous people! Some of them famous, some infamous. Our most famous citizen is Nelson Mandela. We have three living Noble Peace Prize winners, Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu and FW de Klerk. But we’ve had four in total, the other one being Chief Albert Luthuli. I think that this puts pressure on us to make sure that we don’t mess up and start attacking other countries. Let us not forget our Oscar-winning Charlize Theron and Lebo M who won a Grammy for composing music for The Lion King. We also have two Nobel winners for literature. I must stop now, the list is too long and I don’t have time to name our famous people.

All in all I don’t think there is any country in the world quite like ours. I remember seeing many years ago, when I was in high school, a book in a bookstore with the title: Ah, But Your Land is Beautiful by Alan Paton. Those words are so simple yet so elegantly describe this country. Ah but my land is beautiful. I wouldn’t exchange for all the gold in Fort Knox.

*This article originally appeared in Juice magazine, Mango airline’s in-flight magazine.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

When you got to fly the flag do it in style!

We just love to fly the flag the 2010 Soccer
World Cup Is going to be No different







Fly me to the moon let me play amoungst the stars





Now thats how you make music Baby


Somebody asked me what I thought was the best thirst quencher for the heat we having?

It just has to be the Mojito

What you need

1 teaspoon caster sugar
Juice from 2 limes, about 2 tots
2 tots white Rum, like Bacardi
2 tots soda water
4 mint leaves
1 sprig of mint and lemon slice to garnish

The process

You should prepare this in a shaker or a really thick glass before transferring to a long slim collins glass.

Break up the mint leaves and toss them into the shaker, quarter the limes, squueeze out as much of the juice as you can and toss them into the shaker. Add the caster sugar and give the contents a crushing with a mortar or a wooden spoon. You get the idea, they need to be crushed to extract the last of the juice from the limes and to release the flavor from the mint.

Add the rum and and fill the shaker with ice.

Give it a good shake, remove the top and add the soda water and give it one last shake.

Pour everything from the shaker into the glass, garnish with a slice of lemon and man you in paradise

Eish what a cat "Truly a government fat cat"

Four men were bragging about how smart their cats are. The first man is an Engineer, the second man is an Accountant, the third man a Chemist, and the fourth a Government Employee.

To show off, the Engineer called to his cat, "Tsquare, do your stuff." T-square pranced over to a desk, took out some paper and a pen and promptly drew a circle, a square, and a triangle.

Everyone agreed that was pretty smart. But the Accountant said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Spreadsheet, do your stuff."
Spreadsheet went out into the kitchen and returned with a dozen cookies. He divided them into 4 equal piles of 3 cookies each.

Everyone agreed that was good. But the Chemist said his cat could do better. He called his cat and said, "Measure, do your stuff." Measure got up, walked over to the fridge, took out a quart of milk, got a 250ml glass from the cupboard and poured exactly 240ml without spilling a drop.

Everyone agreed that was good.

Then the three men turned to the Government Employee and said, "What can your cat do, if anything?" The Government Worker called to his cat and said, "Coffee Break, do your stuff." Coffee Break jumped to his feet, ate the cookies, drank the milk, crapped on the paper, humped the other three cats, then claimed he injured his back while doing so, filed a grievance report for unsafe working conditions, put in for Workers Compensation and went home for the rest of the week on sick leave.

I was given a whole box of Mangoes yesterday

Mangoes are in season here in Zululand and they really good this year. Try this little baby its really Yummy and refreshing

Mango Fool

3 cups mango puree, sieved

1/4 cup small pieces of mango
1 tablespoon lime juice
1/2 cup sugar
3 cups stiffly whipped cream, chilled

A little light rum for the Skop

Season the mango puree with sugar and lime juice. Chill thoroughly. Just before serving fold in the whipped cream and small pieces. Mix lightly so that the mixture is not quite uniform in appearance, but has discernible streaks of cream and mango. Serves 6. The cream may be flavoured with 3 tablespoons of light rum ah not maybe it's a necessity :0)

Joe finally finishes his painting "Magnificent"

.

Artist Joe Marais has done Zululand proud by completing this magnificent larger than life painting of an African elephant, which will now become an international ambassador for the region’s outstanding wildlife tourism potential. You have to see it in real life its stunning!

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

The Underberg Girls I just love the scandal they caused in the little town!

THE village of Underberg in KZN’s southern Drakensberg is known for its pictu­resque landscapes, and it’s true that you can point a camera in virtually any direction and be sure of capturing a breathtaking image of natural beauty. But recent photographs of beauty in its natural state are causing ripples of discord in this quiet village, and residents are split on how they view the issue.

It started as a fun idea to raise funds to heat the local school swimming pool, but the calendar they chose to produce has landed 25 Underberg mothers in hot water.

“In Underberg, there is really only one month a year for children to take swimming lessons,” says Christy Murray, a Gauteng events organiser and mother of two, who relocated to the area three years ago and who is the driving force behind the calendar. “The rest of the year is just too cold.”

“At a recent birthday party, three mothers had to jump into the pool fully-clothed to rescue kids in trouble in the water.”

The moms decided something had to be done to get their children more swimming lessons, so mother-of-two Sue McKenzie suggested that they do as the women in the Calendar Girls movie did, and take their clothes off. The 2003 Calendar Girls movie is based on the true story of Yorkshire women who produced a nude calendar to raise funds for leukaemia research. And just like the movie, local reaction has been mixed. Underberg primary school, for which the funds are destined, has balked, headmaster Mike Corlett saying “although their fundraising drive and initiative is exciting and different, the school can’t be seen to be associated with this calendar”. Letters to the local newspaper show the community is divided between glowing praise, uncertainty and anger. Various concerns have been voiced.


Jenny Grinwis, a local photographer, life skills and Bible education teacher, who turned down invitations to work on the calendar, is not a fan. “Images of sex in the media bombard our children every day. If we expect our children to make godly decisions, we must lead from the top, not topless.”

“Residents in the community had heard the ladies were almost nude in this calendar,” says John Pearce, security co-ordinator for Underberg Community Watch, “and told us they were concerned what the effect in the community would be if the local work force had these pictures up on their walls, for instance.

“This is a small community and everyone knows everyone. But no one knows how some men might react — whether it’s a black labourer or a white guy full of ink [drunk].”


But the models say it’s been a positive experience. Calendar model Arthie Singh, a 34-year-old mom, says she was initially very nervous.

“As an Indian woman, I was shy to do this. But it was so much of fun; I’ve grown as a person and feel better about myself and my body now.”

Her co-worker, Pauline Mofokeng (34), who also appears in the calendar, echoes Singh’s sentiments. Interestingly, although both have their husband’s blessing, just as all the models do, neither Singh nor Mofokeng has told extended family. They think they’ll like what they see however.

“Those against it don’t know what they’re talking about,” says Sam, calendar model Candice Kynoch’s husband, “The photos are tasteful and nothing like some people imagine.”

A follow-up is already being suggested.

“We husbands might do a 2012 calendar,” he says, “Because rugby World Cup tickets aren’t cheap.”

Calendars go on sale in the new year. For inquiries or to sponsor the Underberg NUD(e) calendar, call 082 994 2068

Facebook link http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Underberg-Calendar-Girls/245441863679?ref=pymk&v=wall

You not going to believe this more Guinness sold in Nigeria than in Ireland!

video

Can you believe the money been made In Africa who would

of thought? A real eye opener!

Not sure about these being so Motivational

Just thought these were weird in a funny way







Simple Rules for Dating my Daughter

I read this a while ago and it always makes me laugh and remember my young dating days
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter's chest. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.

Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.

"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"

As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.

Rule One:If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four:I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five:In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven:As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight:The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places lacking parents, policemen, or nuns. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.

My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate—ink washes off—and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.

One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged. Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?

Perfect day for a good South African Cape Malay Curry

Malay Curry Recipe

This recipe is a typical South African Malay Curry. The first Malay people in South Africa were brought as slaves from what is today Indonesia. As a result of the influence of the Malay and West Asians from the Indian sub-continent who came later, many curry (or kerrie) dishes are popular in South Africa.

What you need

  • a few tablespoons of cooking oil

  • two onions, sliced

  • one clove of garlic, minced

  • one small piece fresh ginger root, peeled and crushed

  • one teaspoon turmeric

  • one teaspoon coriander

  • one teaspoon cumin

  • one stick of cinnamon (or a half-teaspoon ground cinnamon)

  • one teaspoon curry powder (or more, to taste)

  • four cloves

  • two pounds lamb, mutton (or beef) cut into bite-sized cubes

  • one eggplant, cut into slices or cubes

  • one sweet green pepper, cleaned and chopped

  • one to two hot green chile peppers

  • one cup dried apricots, soaked in warm water and drained

  • one small can tomato paste

  • one teaspoon vinegar

  • two cups beef broth or stock (or mutton stock if available)

  • one-half cup apricot jam

  • one cup plain yogurt or buttermilk

What you do

  • Heat the oil in a large pot. Over high heat, fry the onions and garlic, stirring continuously. Add the spices and continue stirring for a minute.

  • Reduce heat slightly. Add the meat and fry it until it is browned on all sides. (This may be easier if you remove the onions and set them aside, then return them to the pot after the meat is browned.)

  • Add all remaining ingredients except the apricot jam and yogurt (or buttermilk). Cover. Reduce heat. Simmer on low heat, stirring occasionally, until everything is tender, approximately an hour.

  • Stir in jam and yogurt (or buttermilk) a few minutes before serving.

  • Serve with Chapatis or Rice. Or make a Bunny Chow.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Zululand has it's own share of Con Artists but hey this is truly crazy

These flyer's were put on my cars window this weekend at the
Richards Bay Mall Parking Lot
If you fall for this one you need
your Head fixed never mind
your Block & Tackle

This is just plain obscene and disgraceful our state utilities are being raped and plundered!



Opposition parties and labour federation Cosatu have described the R85-million lawsuit launched by Eskom's former chief executive, Jacob Maroga, as "scandalous" and a "disgrace".






"It sends the message that it is easy for the elites to get millions in packages after resigning or being fired "




This follows a report in the Sunday Times yesterday that Maroga filed a civil claim at the Johannesburg High Court demanding that he be paid "reasonable damages" if the cash-strapped parastatal would not reinstate him.


Maroga resigned in November amid controversy but in court papers he argues that the Eskom board had forced him to quit before his contract expired in 2012.


Cosatu general secretary Zwelinzima Vavi said that though he believes Maroga has the right to seek redress if he feels he was unfairly dismissed, the amount of money he wants sends a "terrible message".


"We should not condemn anyone who feels aggrieved when they want to take their case to court, but his actions send a terrible message to the public. It sends the message that it is easy for the elites to get millions in packages after resigning or being fired," he said.


"Maroga can't plead innocence. He is not a victim of the current situation at Eskom. He had a chance to turn things around."


Maroga is suing Eskom's acting chief executive and chairman, Mpho Makwana, and Minister of Public Enterprises Barbara Hogan for:


* R1-million a year for a "dedicated protector and driver" for his family;


* R500,000 a year for security at his home in Kyalami Estates, northern Johannesburg, and R100,000 for general home support;


* R1-million a year for "personal assistance";


* Just under R100,000 a year for a petrol and garage card, and for insurance for his Mercedes-Benz C350; and


* R5,000 a month for medical aid, to the age of 80.


Hogan's spokeswoman, Ayanda Shezi, said the minister would oppose the lawsuit and investigate claims by Maroga that he was ''threatened" into resigning.


"The allegations made by Maroga will be addressed in the course of legal proceedings," she said.


The Sunday Times reported that, in court papers, Maroga accused attorney Yunus Shaik, whom Hogan sent to mediate last year, of urging him to leave.


Eskom said in a statement that it will also oppose Maroga's application.


Both the DA and the Independent Democrats have labelled Maroga's lawsuit "disgraceful".


ID leader Patricia de Lille said the former Eskom boss's "disgraceful" demands highlight the "urgent need to review the salaries" of those heading public companies.


DA MP Pieter van Dalen said Maroga was partly to blame for Eskom's woes and his lawsuit was unjustified.


Congress of the People spokesman Phillip Dexter said yesterday that Maroga had ''run down" the company that he now wants plenty of money from.


"Given his bad performance and the debacle at Eskom, it's scandalous that he is demanding such money. He was running the organisation and was part of the group who brought it down."

http://www.timeslive.co.za/news/article275690.ece

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Seen in the Hluhluwe and Umfolozi game reserve


A male Lion getting his end away quite a rare sight
here in Zululand
Thanks Guys for the Pic

Now here is a Sunday afternoon lift me up its real good

Lemon Pie


Ingredients



For the crust:


  • 14 or more whole plain Tuck Crackers

  • 1/4 cup sugar

  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

  • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and still warm
For the filling:

  • 2 (14-ounce) cans condensed milk

  • 1 1/4 cups strained lemon juice (from the 2 zested lemons below plus an additional 4–6)

  • Zest of 2 lemons

  • 8 large egg yolks
For the Chantilly cream:

  • 2 cups heavy cream

  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

  • 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar
To make the crust:
Heat the oven to 325°F. Break the crackers into small pieces and place in the bowl of a food processor along with the sugar and salt. Pulse 8 times, until the cracker crumbs are semi-fine (they shouldn't be powdery but not in large shards either) and the crackers and sugar are combined. Pour in the butter and pulse until the butter is blended in and the mixture isn't crumbly and holds its shape when you squeeze it, about twelve 1-second pulses. Transfer the crust to a 9-inch springform pan and push and press the crumb mixture into the bottom and two-thirds of the way up the sides of the pan. Use the bottom of a measuring cup to press the crust into place. Set aside.


To make the filling:
Whisk the condensed milk with the lemon juice and set aside. Whisk the zest with the egg yolks in a medium bowl until pale, 30 to 60 seconds, and then whisk in the lemon juice-condensed milk mixture.

Place the springform pan on a rimmed baking sheet, pour the mixture into the crust, and carefully transfer the baking sheet to the oven. Bake until the center jiggles slightly, like a soft-setting custard, about 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool for 1 hour on a cooling rack. Loosely cover the pan with plastic wrap (be careful not to let the plastic wrap touch the top of the pie) and freeze for at least 6 hours or overnight.


To make the chantilly cream:
Pour the heavy cream into the bowl of a stand mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand mixer). Add the vanilla and sift in the confectioners' sugar. Whip on low speed to combine and then increase the speed to medium-high and whip until medium-stiff peaks form, about 1 1/2 minutes.

Before serving, wrap a wet, warm kitchen towel around the edges of the springform pan to release the pie from the pan's sides. Unclasp the pan and remove the pie. Fill a pitcher with hot water, dunk your knife in, wipe off the blade, and slice. Top with a dollop of chantilly cream and serve immediately, or keep in the freezer for up to 1 week.

Fifa World Cup Seriously Expensive

Thanks to the Sunday Times
Jan 23, 2010 9:33 PM By Karen Van Rooyen and Bienne Huisman



Local organisers are getting jittery amid international criticism of the cost of travelling to the tournament



'Travelling to South Africa for the World Cup is only possible for rich European businessmen'


South Africans banking on a flood of international soccer fans to boost the local hospitality industry during this year's World Cup may be in for a rude awakening.


Travel packages of up to R100 000 for European and South American fans have triggered warnings that Africa's first World Cup may not draw the numbers initially expected.


With 3-million tickets available for the tournament - which will see 32 nations compete for the ultimate soccer glory - local organisers are getting increasingly jittery amid international criticism of the cost of travelling to the tournament.


Ticket sales abroad have been fairly poor so far.


All-inclusive packages on offer by foreign travel agencies accredited by Fifa's ticketing agency, Match, are proving to be very costly.


An England fan wishing to travel to South Africa to watch his team's three first-round games - in Rustenburg in North West, Cape Town and Port Elizabeth - would have to fork out R60 000.


And that's for the cheapest category of match ticket and economy-class travel. The £4900 package includes accommodation for 14 nights at a three-star bed and breakfast in Sandton and travel between the venues - either by plane or by bus.


This is simply too much for English fan Mu Ali, who told the Sunday Times he would need a "small fortune" to come. The London-based marketing manager said: "I'm not even considering it; it's far too expensive. It's a choice between keeping my flat and going on holiday."


Kevin Miles, an England fan and director of international affairs at the Football Supporters' Federation, said there was a "general perception" that the World Cup in South Africa was expensive. He predicted that South Africa would see fewer English fans than those who travelled to previous World Cups.


"I've applied for every single game that England plays in - up to the finals. Those are category 1 tickets and it's $2600 for seven games. That's before I've paid for flights, before I've paid for travelling between venues, before I've eaten anything."


South African fans have been slow to respond to ticket sales for the World Cup, but when compared to how much foreign fans will have to pay, they may be missing out on the bargain of a lifetime.


The Sunday Times has established that:



  • A Brazil fan would have to pay R90000 for a package that includes return flights, transfers, 12 nights' accommodation and tickets for Brazil's three first-round games;

  • A Mexico fan would have to pay R105000 for a 15-day trip, including return flights, domestic flights and three first-round tickets; and

  • Mexican company Super Travel's all-inclusive week-long package (at R59 000) has sold out. It includes only one ticket for Mexico's opening match against Bafana Bafana.

Gustavo Signorio, director of the official Fifa tour operator in Argentina, Mundoreps SRL, said at R22 000 for an economy-class return ticket, airfare from Buenos Aires was expensive during the World Cup. "A room in a three-star hotel is$300 per night and almost all hotels request a three-night minimum stay."


Mundoreps SRL also offers a 14- day package at R63000, including return flights from Buenos Aires, accommodation and tickets to Argentina's first three games plus a few local excursions.


Earlier this week, German football legend Franz Beckenbauer slammed ticket and travel prices, saying that few Germans - already put off by high crime levels in South Africa - could afford the tickets.


Marc Young, editor of the Berlin-based English newspaper The Local, said that while Germans had a "soft spot for South Africa", they would not take kindly to being "ripped off".


"I have a feeling you're going to end up having half-full stadiums, which is going to be a shame."


Salmar Burger, a lecturer at the University of Pretoria's Biokinetics, Sport and Leisure Sciences department specialising in sport tourism, said it was important to have full stadiums for economic, social and psychological reasons.


He said full stadiums also provided the atmosphere at such events.


Burger said that South Africa was at a disadvantage because the "majority of spectators are from halfway around the world" and would not be able to afford travelling, given the global recession.


Some Dutch fans have opted for a cheaper trip.


Oranjereisbureau , a subsidiary of Fifa-endorsed OAD Reizen, is offering a 17-day chauffeured caravan experience that includes return flights from Amsterdam and tickets to two of Holland's three first-round matches at R23 000 per person.


Oranjecamping spokesman Mieke de Vries said: "We give Dutch fans the chance to follow their team for better value for money."


Sadly, her father, Jacques, 62, cannot afford the trip. "Travelling to South Africa for the World Cup is only possible for rich European businessmen, not for simple people like me," the retired teacher said in a telephonic interview.


But Rich Mkhondo, spokesman for the Local Organising Committee, said that the tickets to this World Cup were the cheapest in the history of the event.


"Tickets for this World Cup are still 40% cheaper than the previous three, whether you're coming from South Africa or Germany," he said.


"The problem is that it is a long-haul destination - but we are not responsible for those packages."

Friday, January 22, 2010

Now where is that thing again?

This is just wrong but still funny

Now I know Politicians think out the Box but darn they screw us every which way


I think these guys are all using the same hand book
no diffrent here or anywhere else
we all get screwed

Almost weekend its hot and sunny almost time for me to make like a Bannana and Split

Make it a Good One People and do
Behave Now

You Dont often get feel good stories like this anymore



By Alex Eliseev

'Hi Gene," Sam Tsukudu shouts. "Hi Sam. You want a ride on top?" the elderly woman in a Toyota Corolla yells as she bangs on her roof and chuckles.
A VW Golf cruises past.
"Hey Brian," Tsukudu's voice booms. A hand appears from the driver's side and waves. Inside Arbor Village, an old man spots Tsukudu and calls out "Pick 'n Pay!"





"I was dead weight. A useless piece of meat, but Sam said 'Climb on'."


"We've got lots of your paw-paws in the store," comes the friendly reply.

And so it goes for the man who, overnight, transformed from being a long-time friend to a mini-celebrity inside the Bedfordview retirement village. The fame came after a stranger photographed Tsukudu walking down a busy road and carrying a frail 75-year-old resident on his back. The man Tsukudu rescued, Danie Britz, had missed his bus home and collapsed at a petrol station near the Bedford Centre.

But, in truth, anyone who has known Tsukudu in the 24 years he has worked at the centre's Pick n Pay would know that the act of kindness was not extraordinary. It was just Sam.

The photograph, taken by a shopper, was also sent to Pick n Pay boss Raymond Ackerman. On Monday, Ackerman sent a signed letter that read: "This is really going beyond the call of duty, Sam, and I would like to congratulate you and thank you for what you are doing."

Tsukudu is a tall, burly, 42-year-old who has five children and loves to spend his time gardening or watching birds with a glass of Coke. He joined Pick n Pay in 1986 as a shelf packer and today works in the vegetable department.






'Don't fear, Sam is near'


But his real job is to charm. To banter with customers in Greek, French, Italian, Portuguese or even Chinese. He knows greetings and a few key phrases.

He delivers groceries to those too old to fetch them. He walks a blind man - John Chandler - home from the store and helps him unpack his groceries. Over a 10-year friendship, Tsukudu learnt to decode what groceries Chandler needs, because his wife has a habit of tearing off bits of the washing powder box, a lid from the pilchards tin or the top of a pasta container. Once, when it was pouring with rain, Tsukudu used his own car to drive John to the shop.
"Sam makes a big difference. It's having someone on your side," Chandler, 66, says.

Another of Tsukudu's friends is Miss South Africa 1957, Adele Kruger, who lives in Arbor Village. "He's very sweet. He always comes to our rescue and says 'Don't fear, Sam is near'.
"We can't imagine Pick n Pay without him."
Tsukudu - who lives in Bez Valley - came across Britz while walking home with Chandler. Britz was in the shopping centre, but because the elevators were broken, had been forced to walk far beyond his physical capability. He missed his ride and collapsed on the pavement.
Tsukudu told him to stay put, walked Chandler back and ran to help.
"I was dead weight. A useless piece of meat," Britz said. "But Sam said 'Climb on'."
Tsukudu walked until he could go no further, and the pair were eventually picked up in a car and driven home.
"Sam is a real human. If only there were more people in the world like him," Britz said.
For the man himself, it's just another day of doing what he loves. "I'm a person with a good heart. If I see someone struggling, I'll help. I grew up going to church... I love doing good things."
As Tsukudu leaves the village, a woman calls after him.
"Well done Sam. I heard what you did. Bravo!"