Why's that my fault?

So, if you are a person who is driving without a car kit and I phone you - and you answer, and I ask you if it's okay for me to ask you a question and you say yes and then a cop pulls you over for talking on your cell phone why do you blame me and get all pissy and tell me that it is my fault?

Hey Asshole - if you don't want to get a fine either :

(A) Don't answer your phone - I would have left a message which you would have ignored and I would have to keep phoning you back until I got hold of you hopefully not driving.
Or
(B) Get a fecking car kit.

Sheesh Dude, not cool, not cool at all.

Dear Dreams

Dear My Dreams,

I really appreciate you popping around every night, and allowing my mind to not only work the 18 hours I'm awake, but also the 7 hours I sleep*. Thanks. No really, thanks.

I also appreciate the fantastically bizarre things you bring to me each night. I now have the reassurance that I am not only exceptionally intelligent, but also amazingly creative. So Thanks. No really, thanks.

I guess I should apologise for trying to drug you away, because clearly this doesn't work. It just makes you bring weirder things.

But please, please oh blessed dreams, could I ask you this one small favour? If you are not going to be about Wentworth Miller and I having naughty, sexy times, then please, please go away.

I know this is hard to hear, but I don't actually like you.

I'm sorry.

I thank you in advance for you adherence to my terms set out above.

Regards,

Kerryn






* I know that there are only 24 hours in a day and not 25 . . . . this is just a further indication of how tired I am.

A day in the life of me . . . .

Long time, no blog . . . I've been furiously busy, but just slowed down to hectically busy, with a strong possibility of only really busy, so I may, or may not blog more often.

This morning while travelling to drop Ciara off at school on the N1, it occurred to me that I must be possibly the only living being who is not a millionaire.

Let me explain further. On this particular part of the N1 there is some sort of construction going on. One theory is it is for the Gautrain. Another theory is highway widening to four lanes. My theory is to for Tshwane Metro to make a shit load of money.
The speed limit has been reduced from the previous 100km/h to an amazingly slow 80km/h. Now I know that this reduction of 20km may be a mild annoyance to any sane person, but apparently it brings out masochistic tendencies in others.
There was also a report on the news, in newspapers, on interweb news sites and on the radio that these reduced speed areas would be speed trapped by them lazer camera thingies.

Me, personally, I don't have R500-00 to R700-00 to flush down the toilet like yesterdays Nando's. No I like my geld safe and sound in my little purse tucked into my ample cleavage - Not in the bank account of Tshwane Metro. Thank. You. Very. Much.

I am clearly alone in my inclination to hold on to my hard earned cash. Because every other asshole on the road things it's a free for all - they react to the yellow of the reduced speed signs like a bull to a badly dressed matador!

I had a gasoline truck tail gating me for about 5km the other day. Now that would have been fun if I had to stop suddenly. Fun like kicking your baby toe against the corner of that fecking end table you always walk into.

Seriously?

I am currently searching (fruitlessly, apparently) for a Dolls Cupboard (ie, a cupboard in which one can hang dolls clothes) for Ciara. I have looked high and low on the interweb. I was searching Bid or Buy a moment ago, and used the term 'doll' as a search word, since 'cupboard' didn't yield many returns.

My search was much more fruitful this time. I happened upon many, many "Baby Dolls".

Now I understand buying Lingerie on-line (at Temptations, or sexylingerie, or adult world or even woolies), but bid or buy? Seriously?

Who thinks, "I'm feeling saucy and sexy and want a little number to match my mood, Aaah, I think I log on to bid or buy!"

Seriously?

In my search I also happened to find a clearly used pair of shoes at eBay uk!
Gross, gross, gross, gross.

Are you a talent, a lifer, or a mandarin?

I'm a Mandarin!

You're an intellectual, and you've worked hard to get where you are now. You're a strong believer in education, and you think many of the world's problems could be solved if people were more informed and more rational. You have no tolerance for sloppy or lazy thinking. It frustrates you when people who are ignorant or dishonest rise to positions of power. You believe that people can make a difference in the world, and you're determined to try.

Talent: 44%
Lifer: 46%
Mandarin: 51%

http://www.tomorrowland.us/tlm/

Give me a f-ing break . ..

You know what really pisses me off? Other than people who don't use their indicators. It's the total lack of personal responsibility which has infiltrated this world.
This whole shooting incident in Krugersdorp is a typical case in point.
The only news I have heard so far involve Satanism and Slipknot. Oh please, give me a f*cking break. Seriously? Satanism and Slipknot? Not only is that the oldest excuse in the book, it's so bloody lame. Couldn't it have been more original this time? Couldn't the blame fallen on Scientology and the songs of the Broadway Musical Cats.
If I were a journalist, and if anyone actually cared about my opinion, the story would have gone ;

Yesterday in Krugersdorp, a matric pupil fatally stabbed a Grade 9 pupil. The perpetrator used his God given free will to make the decision to carry out this atrocious act. His reason for the attack remains unknown, but claims the oldest excuse in the book "the devil made me do it".

Truly, I don't care if the kid was listening to "songs by satan", written and performed by the darkmaster himself. That pathetic excuse just doesn't cut it.

Grow a pair dude, and cop to the fact that you are a murderer who made a conscious and informed decision to TAKE THE LIFE OF ANOTHER HUMAN BEING.

The worst mama ever . . . .

So, it goes like this. I fetch Ciara from aftercare at school yesterday and she is crying. I immediately ask her whats wrong, like the good momma I thought I was, and she tells me she fell and hurt her wrist.

So I ask her if it is sore when she moves it, must we go to the hospital or does she think she will be okay. She tells me that it is REALLY sore. I am getting really frustrated, because seriously, who wants to go and sit at the emergency room at night in the cold?

I'm thinking, it's probably just bruised, this child is such a drama queen*.

So after much mmming and aaahing, I head over to Unitas to have my child seen to. I am not a happy momma at this point. I want to be at home. It's dark. It's cold. I have SO many chores to do.

After spending 400 hours** at the emergency room, we get the result that she has, in fact, fractured her wrist. She is currently in a splint, with a cast being put on on Friday.

So, it's official. I'm the crappiest momma ever.






* In my defence, the child is the queen of drama, and belongs on stage, in fact, she should be awarded an honorary Academy Award for Outstanding Performance in Bawling at Absolutely Everything.
** Okay, so it was only an hour and a half, but the drama queen apple does not fall far from the drama queen tree.


Duel posted here : The Bad Mommy Blog