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From Lize in Perth:
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OBITUARY
Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has
been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since
his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.
He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as
knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm,
life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.
Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more
than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children,
are in charge).
His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but
overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year-old boy
charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended
from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for
reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.
Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job
they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It
declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent
to administer Panadol, sun lotion or a Band-Aid to a student but could not
inform the parents when a student became pregnant or wanted to have an
abortion.
Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became
contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better
treatment than their victims.
Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a
burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.
Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is
survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to
Blame, and I'm A Victim.
Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.
This content was added July 11th, 2008.
Thanks for your visit!
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Do you think this is fair?
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SOMETHING I OVERHEARD...
Sitting at Maxi’s the other day, I overheard a scary conversation. Three foreign men met with a local man. This was, let’s say, a job interview.
The 3 foreigners have no work permits for our country. In fact, they are clearly illegal aliens. The local yokel stated as follows: “If you don’t say anything, I won’t either.”
As from today, these 3 men will be “employed” as car guards at at big, busy Pretoria shopping centre. They are allowed to guard parked cars of shoppers. For this “privelege”, they each have to pay the local guy R20.00 per day, which he will personally collect from them before 9a.m. every day. Now listen to this: No pay, no work. Isn’t that the wrong way round?
They each had to pay him R430.00, for which he gave them each a so-called uniform, consisting of a shirt, a pair of trousers and a hat.
These are the conditions of “employment”:
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As I mentioned, no pay, no work
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You may work from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.
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If you want to work from 3 p.m. until late night, you pay me R50.00 per day
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A car gets stolen on your block, I fire you. Then I kill you.
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If anything gets stolen out a car, I fire you. Then I kill you.
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You will wear your uniform every day. No uniform, no work. Listen to this one: Your uniform must be clean every day. (When is this guy going to have the time to do laundry?)
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You WILL be friendly to the drivers of the cars you guard, even if they pay you 2c for the job. Otherwise, I fire you. Then I kill you.
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If Immigration officials arrive, I don’t know you, you don’t know me. If you drag me into your problems, I fire you. Then I kill you.
What bothers me the most, is that the local yokel speaks my language.....
This content was added on Tuesday March 11th, 2008. Happy birthday Jacqui!
Thanks for your visit!
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A Proud Moment!
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Tuesday, February 19th, 2008. This is the front page of today's local paper. If, for some reason, I am not allowed to have this image here, kindly inform me via email: 3prinsloos@vodamail.co.za, and I will gladly remove it.
It had to be removed......
The insident which sparked the event that made front page news here, was a tragic one. On Friday February 15th 2008, two school kids were stabbed by other kids. This rocked the community in question. The school in question clearly has internal problems, but I would prefer not to discuss those at this point.
As a parent of the school, I was present during the event pictured above. And amidst everyday typically South African negativity and turmoil, something struck me as unbelievably positive:
Between the Friday when the stabbing occurred, and the Monday, 3 days later, THREE young matric pupils at Hoërskool Akasia in Pretoria, managed to arrange a PEACEFUL, PASSIVE protest meeting at school, wanting ONLY to be safe at school.
In excess of 500 kids gathered IN SILENCE, sitting down on the school's rugby field. Black, White, Pink, Green. All together, believing in and wanting the SAME outcome: The simple need to feel SAFE.
Nothing was burned or broken or destroyed. It was a simple show of solidarity.
And it WORKED.
Thank you for reading this far.
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Bad things!
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Why do bad things happen to good people?
Our good friend Renier was hijacked (carjacked) last Thursday night. EIGHT armed men attacked him & tried to rob him of his car. With the help of a Samaritan, he managed to hold on to his vehicle, but his keys & wallet were taken by the robbers. For four days he never left his home, badly shaken & fearful of another ordeal. Until today.
This evening those robbers waited for him at his home. Having taken his wallet, they must have obtained his address. And they already had his keys.....
If only we hadn't abolished the death penalty. Punishment in South Africa NEVER fits the crime.
This content was added on Tuesday, February 12th, 2008. I hereby give thanks for my friend being alive tonight.
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I was SO sick....
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First of all: THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the emails! Amazing though, my family hardly noticed that I had slipped in between the floor boards. I got the most DREADFUL cold. Nothing fancy or dramatic. Just a cold. But with this being the South African summer, outside temperatures of 32 degrees Centigrade and upwards, combined with a bad fever, felt almost lethal.
Anyhow: I am back! I found myself surrounded by friends, the moment I turned the PC back on. Wow! My server was heavily loaded with emails from readers wanting to know where I had disappeared to. I feel most flattered and I will reply to each one in time.
In the mean time, nothing has changed. Eish!Kom still rules the RSA. I am contemplating going back to 9 to 5 employment. I understand that the power plant in Pretoria West is desperately looking for women like myself. Apparently they have come across a way of harnessing the heat our bodies release during a hot flush, and turning that into much needed electricity.....
This content was added on Friday, February 1st, 2008. Congrats to Nikki & Johan in Minnesota, getting married tomorrow. Best of luck! Thank you for your visit!
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From an anonymous contributor:
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Someone out there either has too much spare time or is deadly at Scrabble.
(Wait till you see the last one)!
DORMITORY:
When you rearrange the letters:
DIRTY ROOM
PRESBYTERIAN:
When you rearrange the letters:
BEST IN PRAYER
ASTRONOMER:
When you rearrange the letters:
MOON STARER
DESPERATION:
When you rearrange the letters:
A ROPE ENDS IT
THE EYES:
When you rearrange the letters:
THEY SEE
GEORGE BUSH:
When you rearrange the letters:
HE BUGS GORE
GAUTENG:
When you rearrange the letters:
GET A GUN
THE MORSE CODE:
When you rearrange the letters:
HERE COME DOTS
SLOT MACHINES:
When you rearrange the letters:
CASH LOST IN ME
ANIMOSITY:
When you rearrange the letters:
IS NO AMITY
ELECTION RESULTS:
When you rearrange the letters:
LIES - LET'S RECOUNT
SNOOZE ALARMS:
When you rearrange the letters:
ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S
A DECIMAL POINT:
When you rearrange the letters:
IM A DOT IN PLACE
THE EARTHQUAKES:
When you rearrange the letters:
THAT QUEER SHAKE
ELEVEN PLUS TWO:
When you rearrange the letters:
TWELVE PLUS ONE
AND FOR THE GRAND FINALE:
MOTHER-IN-LAW:
When you rearrange the letters:
WOMAN HITLER
This content was added on Tuesday January 22nd, 2008.
Thank you so much for your visit!
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From the U.S.A.....
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This sort of says it all.......
This content was added on Thursday, January 17th, 2008. Thanks for you visit.
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From Willemina In Cottage Grove, Minnesota:
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A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM
If you read this without laughing out loud, there is something wrong with you. This is dedicated to everyone who ever attempted to get into a regular workout routine.
Dear Diary,
For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear)
purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me.
Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.
My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
MONDAY:
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess - with blonde hair,dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!
TUESDAY:
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door.
Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It's a whole new life for me.
WEDNESDAY:
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasal whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other shit too.
THURSDAY :
Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late, it took me that long to tie my shoes.
Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. She sent another skinny bitch to find me.
Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.
FRIDAY :
I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it.
Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher.
Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
SATURDAY :
Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her made me want to smash the machine with my planner. However, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.
SUNDAY :
I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little shit) will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!
This content was added on Friday, January 11th, 2008. Thanks Willemien!
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It is NOT Christmas when.....
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When It Is Not Christmas
By Bridgitte Williams
1. It is not Christmas when you want to choke the Santa in the store instead of placing your child on his lap. Do you really have to explain to him why you cannot afford half of what your child is about to ask him for?
2. It is not Christmas when you start singing Jinglehells instead of Jinglebells while Christmas caroling and it is not a mistake.
3. It is not Christmas when you make grinch Christmas cookies.
4. It is not Christmas when you place a Santa in your front yard with his pockets turned inside out.
5. It is not Christmas when you send one Christmas card out by email to be forwarded to everyone.
6. It is not Christmas when your Christmas gift to everyone is a copy of your ebook that you just cannot seem to sell.
7. It is not Christmas when instead of a live Christmas tree you have an E tree showing on your computer screen.
8. It is not Christmas when you wear a shirt proclaiming that Tickle Me Elmo doll greed killed Christmas spirit.
9. It is not Christmas when you give your dogs' new litter of puppies away as Christmas gifts.
10. It is not Christmas when you send a note out with your Christmas cards saying instead of gifts please make a donation to my astounding credit card debt.
I hope these cheered you up and got you in the mood for the Christmas season to come. Thanks for reading.
Happy Holidays!
This content was added on Sunday, December 16th, 2007.
Merry Christmas!
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Picture this:
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Imagine the following: You need to pay your house, buy food, pay school fees, put petrol in your car, etc. For this you need money. Your state president as well as the constitution of your country FORCES you to put your money in the bank. You go to the bank. You attempt to draw cash. You are told to fill out an application form. You find you are allowed to draw the equivalent of 17 South African Rand per DAY. This translates to US$2.50. More or less.
But that is not all! You have to wait 12 (TWELVE) days for your request to be processed.
A joke? I fear not. This was just on the main news bulletin of Morning Live, SABC2. But what does the world expect from a monkey running a once beautiful, flourishing country??? Let's hope this blundering idiot wakes up SOON!
This content is FACT, as reported by the South African Broadcasting Corporation, and was added on Friday, December 7th, 2007. Let's pray for the people of Zimbabwe.
Thanks for your visit!
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World AIDS Day
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Saturday, December 1, 2007 - 19th annual AIDS Day
I feel truly sorry for the children who were born with AIDS. Simply because they had no choice. The people who KNEW about it, and still acted irresponsibly, do NOT have my sympathy.
Nevertheless; I add this content today in remembrance of my late mother’s late friend, Barry. He is sadly missed.
This content was added on Saturday, December 1, 2007.
Thank you for your visit.
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A Southern Poem
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Thank you for your feedback! The following was sent to me by Dr André Greeff (possibly a distant relative of mine).
A SOUTHERN LOVE POEM
Suzy Lee fell in love...she planned to marry Joe.
She was so happy about it all,..she told her pappy so.
Pappy told her, "Suzy Gal,..you'll have to find another.
I'd just as soon yo maw don't know,..but Joe is yo half-brother."
So Suzy forgot about her Joe...and planned to marry Will.
But after telling pappy this,..he said, "There's trouble still.
You can't marry Will, my Gal...and please don't tell yo mother,
cause Will and Joe and several MO..I know is yo half-brother."
But mama said, "Honey chile,..do what makes you happy.
Marry Will or marry Joe,..You ain't no kin to pappy!!"
This content was added on Tuesday November 6th, 2007.
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DaisyBlog
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Rugby World Cup Final - Saturday October 20th, 2007
Ever seen fly paper? It's a long, sticky strip of paper wound into what looks like a shotgun cartridge. You heat it slightly, unwind it from the inside of the cartridge and pin it to your ceiling. To catch flies. Looks terrible, but it works.
Problem is: It catches more than flies. Moths, butterflies, or basically any winged object sticks to it. On Saturday night I even noticed some fireflies on it, lighting up the frantic contents of the strip.
The rugby World Cup was meant, I suppose, to unite the so-called "rainbow nation". Instead, apart from succeeding only up to a point, it caused more trouble than good. I had first-hand experience of this over the weekend. Let me explain:
The South African team, the Springboks, consist of players from the 9 provinces within the country. Some provincial teams are good, others less so. Then there are supporters who, in spite of their team's inability to perform, still support them, no matter what. Personally, I support no team. I don't even understand the game. In fact, about 8 seasons ago, I discovered what a "forward pass" is. Rediculous really: The players attempt to move forward toward their score line, but are limited to, while moving forward, only passing the ball backwards. In the hope that a fellow team member is there to catch the oddly shaped bladder of some sorts, of course.
Although watching the game interests me not one bit, I have a husband as well as a son who are avid watchers of the game. What makes them happy, makes me happy. Thus: I "support" the team they support. In this case: BLUE BULLS.
On Sunday morning I happened to be on the Internet, where I made the seriously severe mistake of interluding (in a chat setup of sorts - not really meant for sports chatter) with a mention towards the previous night's game. OK OK, I used a slightly crude, but well-used expression! Firstly, I got a slap on the wrist for using an obsenity. Then another chatter made the mistake of seconding my utterance, and added that HIS team (the BLUE BULLS) featured well in the game. Which, in turn, I seconded.
BIG mistake!
I repeat: I AM ALL BUT AN EXPERT ON THE GAME! But, being stuck to the same fly strip as all the other creepy crawlies there, I DARED to attempt to make conversation! Wow! Silly, stupid, uninformed ME!
I posted one last comment and promptly unsubscribed from the forum.
My final (very female) opinion on rugby: A GAME PLAYED BY MEN WITH ODD SHAPED BALLS!
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This article was posted on Monday, October 22nd, 2007
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Afrikaanse Blog te sien by BlomBlok. Sien blou kolom hiernaas. Inhoud verskil van hierdie hier vervat.
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