Anyway … I don’t really have anything interesting to tell. Suuuure, I could tell you about what prompted my male colleague (Afrikaaner) to ask me if I was ever in the porn industry, but then I wouldn’t have you guys on tenterhooks for the ENTIRE weekend. Yeah, I know, I’m a terrible tease.

Enjoy the weekend

So yeah, a couple of weeks ago the lovely Brazen wrote a piece for A Cape Town Blog. She asked all her readers if any of them were interested in winning a scuba diving course for themselves and a friend. My initial reaction upon reading that was, “Who would I have to bribe to win? And will this cost me a kidney?”

So I entered. And then I made all my friends enter AND I made them promise to take me along if they won. And yes, even though I entered the competition, I didn’t tell any of you about it, coz let’s face it, momma didn’t raise no idiot and I certainly didn’t need the competition.

Anyway, I’ve yet to decide on a date but I am super psyched. (Can you tell? Can you?) I can’t wait to experience all that SCUBA DIVING has to offer. It’s going to be fun.

Also huge thanks to Tony Lindeque of Learntodivetoday for sponsoring the competition. Oh, and I’d like to thank my mother for bringing me into this world. I couldn’t have done it without you, mom.

I stumbled across these painting yesterday and I was immediately reminded of my friend, Cougar. She is an amazing dancer and I envy her talent. I would give anything to look this good on the dance floor. Don’t get me wrong, I have rhythm. I just have a HUGE problem with letting a guy push me around.

Anyway, you can find more of these amazing paintings over here.

Oh and if you’ve always wanted to check out a Matisse show, head on over to my friend, Unbearable’s (not his real name) blog. Unbearable is one of those individuals who are lucky enough to work in New York.

So you resist the eager to lift up your arm and sniff yourself. You move forward a few inches but the rank bitch behind you won’t give you air to breathe, and shuffles right along with you. By the time you’ve finally reached the front of the tiller (whose gender you can’t identify); you’re in an exceptionally foul mood. So much so that when he/she asks if the reference on your deposit slip says “shack cage diving”; you nearly snap and say, “Shark cage diving! Coz shack cage diving makes soooo much sense.” But you manage to rein in your inner bitch in, smile politely and have a fairly decent conversation about your impending adventure.

Of cause none of this would have happened if you’d finally decided to join the 21st Century and sign up for internet banking.

* After reading this blog post, you’ll have come to the realisation that this post has absolutely nothing to do with accidental babies. Accidental babies was the name of the song I was listening to at the time of posting.

*

Found this in my greader and simply HAD to share this!

Lost Coastlines – Okkervil River

Not entirely sure where in Costa Rica this photograph was taken.

Can you imagine surfing in warm water? Can you imagine getting into without a wetsuit?

Blue Frog

The following photographs stolen from Lonely Planet’s website. Thanks to Dizzy* for sending me the link.

This is an old video (2007). Miss Teen South Carolina was asked why a fifth of Americans can’t locate the US on a world map.

Her reply (for those you can’t watch youtube at work): I personally believe the U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some, uh…people out there in our nation don’t have maps, and, uh, I believe that our education like such as South Africa and, uh, the Iraq everywhere like, such as and…I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., err, uh, should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries, so we will be able to build up our future for our…

Am I the only South African out there who is offended by her answer?

Anyway here’s a snippet of yesterday’s email conversation:

Dizzy*:   On a now unrelated note, if you update your search query to: surfing + female + surfboard, you’ll get better results:

Dizzy*: I’ll go with the highlighted girl on the right. Not only because I haven’t seen many black surfer chicks*, but also, cos she actually looks like she’s been surfing – smiling, happy, relaxed, and oh yes – WET. Which all those other posers seem to forget about!

Barry: She’s carrying a gay minimal, obviously can’t surf. The one right next to her… hubba hubba.

Me: Gay minimal?

Mad Phoenix: Shhh [insert my real name]! Barry is trying to tell us something… No need to have added the last item Barry. This is a safe space…you can talk to us.

Luckily Barry took the jibe quite well.

* Dizzy’s right. I’ve spent every weekend at Surfer’s Corner for the last year, and I’ve yet to see a black surfer.

Yesterday while watching Crossing Over (no, not the show where John Edwards speaks to the dead), I was reminded of the above quote. Whilst the blog post in which this quote was originally found, dealt with Americans fear of immigrants, the film provided us with an alternative viewpoint. The thought provoking film looked at families torn apart by deportation, the extreme lengths that immigrants go to to arrive in America, how certain officials abuse their power etc. (As one review so eloquently put it, “ the film wags its finger at the U.S. for deigning to protect itself by cracking down on those who haven’t earned green cards.”)   Personally, I loved the film and couldn’t stop crying when the 15 year old Bangladeshi was separated from the rest of her family. (Spoiler alert).

Anyway, if you’ve watched the film please head over to the comment section and let me know what you thought of it.

If you’re anything like me (and 10 000 Capetonians), you probably watched the fall of the iconic Athlone cooling towers. If you’re anything like me, you probably spent a large amount of time sitting in the traffic, becoming all too familiar with the smell of your clutch burning. If you’re anything like me, you also probably missed the first few seconds of the implosion because your friend, *cough* Juan *cough*, decided that THAT was a good time to inquire about your life. And if you’re anything like me at all, you probably quelled the inevitable boredom that resulted from spending an hour in the traffic, playing your new favourite game, “Is he wearing any underwear?” What? Oh you’re too mature to play a silly game like THAT. You’d rather spend your time talking about the psychoanalytical effects of the implosion. Touche.

Anyway, no innocent men were felt up during the playing of the game, although Juan’s mind might have been warped.

After watching the implosion (and singing along to a Mariah Carey song), I finally managed to get my hands on season 2 of The Wire. Man, you have no idea what lengths I had to go to, to get them. I swear, I must have visited 10 DVD rental stores and promised to hand over my first born to whatsisface … Rampelstiltskin.

How was your weekend?