Lately I have gained a lot of new followers of which some are trapped in the midst of the stress and anxiety associated with parenting. I’m kidding! Being a parent is the most ungrateful, toughest job in the world. I’m kidding! The money is not good either.
But it’s rewarding. In a don’t-make-me-come-over-there-and slap-the-stupid-out-of-you kind of way.
Then there’s teenagers.
Therefore, a drafted this simply guide for raising teens based on three years of governing my beautiful, darling, little angels through the monster-phase maze into adulthood. Continue reading
Travelling is part of my life like the hump on that cartoon character from Notre dame. It’s uncomfortable but probably makes me more interesting. I think…
Getting to the end of the year, this hump of mine is becoming a life crushing burden. I hate carting the damn thing around everywhere. And I’m not referring to the hump, I’m referring to the fucking suitcase. Focus.
I hate slugging it around as if my life depends on it. Continue reading
A long, long time ago in an era where poking friends implied a sexual activity and not something you do with fake friends on a social platform. Or when twitter was the sound made by a sick bird and not something I could waste several hours on, there was a skinny squire with mousy hair and a stunning personality. He was invited to a ball and at some point during the festivities he saw her sitting in the kitchen, watching a magical talking bird. He politely asked if he could join her because his parents didn’t raise an ape. She blushed and agreed, so he sat down eagerly and over the course of an hour, she stole his heart. And has never bothered to return it to him.
a flower for an angel
Everybody in the land was joyous and happy when they announced their plans to exchange vows two years later. He looked semi-dashing in a green blazer and she looked fucking amazing in an exquisite white wedding dress, as she waltzed down the isle. He was (and still is) flabbergasted. Continue reading
Life is taking over my ability to blog. Maybe I shouldn’t just blame life. Things like work, travel and a damn MBA also gets in the way of writing. Lots of shit is happening, leaving me with scraps of time to do important things, like blogging.
My time for blogging is merely breadcrumbs left behind after the rest of my life had their picnic. And how am I’m supposed to survive on breadcrumbs alone? I’m starving over here. Neglecting my writing, reading and commenting obligations.
There comes a time when every man has to grow a pair, then take time by the short and curlies and throw it out the door. A moment where you have to take back the control and find a moment to do the things you really love. Like writing.
Anyhow, enough about me. Continue reading
Heartburn woke up me up in the early hours of yesterday. Just like the burglars who broke into our house a week before. (That’s another story)
At first I thought it was my Mother-in-law’s cooking as we had dinner there. Turned out it wasn’t because my heartburn was so severe there was no way it could be caused by a mortal’s cooking. It made me think I was able to give birth to fire-breathing reptiles, turning into Phaleesi, the Father of Dragons. Continue reading
I’m proof this theory works
South Africa celebrates Woman’s day on 09 August every year. One might wonder why women requires such a special, annual day? And if one is stupid enough to ask that question in the presence of said women, one might get a reply such as: “Because men gets a special day, everyday.”
I would argue this statement, if I didn’t ruin Woman’s day. In my defense, it wasn’t done on purpose. I usually don’t indulge in self-sabotage when it comes to the opposite sex. I consider myself in tune to the needs of those who run the world. At least most of the time. Continue reading
A gorgeous girl and a Dad trying to look cool.
I walked down the corridor with gift bags and a cup of coffee. Wife was right behind me carrying a small tray with a mug of hot chocolate and a candlelit cupcake. Dude almost carried himself. Fortunately we have walls that guide him in a straight line to where he has to go. I switched on the light and hidden between layers of duvets and blankets, she appeared with a gorgeous smile on her face.
“Happy birthday to you…” we sang awfully. It was six-o-clock in the morning and it was evident that our ability to carry a simple tune was still asleep.
The day arrived, like it does every year. Continue reading