Tropical Dreams

So, we postponed the drinking Cosmopolitans to this weekend! How fabulous. I think it's now progressed to Champagne. Even more fabulous.


I haven't managed to get any birthday gifts yet. I know. I'm a horrible friend. I absolutely HATE showing up at a party empty handed. At this stage, even a gift voucher would be better than nothing. I feel awful, but luckily they will understand. I have had a week that has flown by. I have been up at the crack of dawn and crashed into bed for 4 hours of sleep, until the alarm clock terrorises the room for the next day to start all over again.
Madness, but it's been fun. Maybe I am sadistic.


I need a holiday. I can smell it, taste and yet sadly, I just can't touch it. I want to get out of this city. I need to. I'm going crazy. I need white sandy beaches, turquoise water, palm trees, suntan lotion and pina coladas.

I have never ever been to an island and I would love to go to one. At this stage I'm not fussy, but I would love to go to the Caribbean. Mauritius must be beautiful but it seems so common these days. God, I've turned into an island snob.
I would love to drive to the airport right now. International Departures and get onto a plane to piss off for 3 weeks.
How lovely and enticing.



Back to reality.


I reckon, I'll ditch the Cosmo's for Pina Colada's and find a sandpit to run around in. Hey. with the amount of construction going on, I'm sure there must be plenty of sand to run around in.
I'll lather myself in suntan lotion and watch the Travel Channel.


Have a brilliant weekend!

Supermodel for the day...

Hale-bloody-lujah!!

Blogger HATES me. I have been trying to log on all this time and I haven't been able to. I thought I'd try this one last time and voila!!

I guess all my threatening works.

Damn, it's been busy!! Blondie 2's birthday was yesterday and we celebrated with cake at the office and loud singing -as you do.

So, before I get into the office, I call the birthday girl to wish her and I hear her whispering originally, but as the conversation goes on, she get's louder and louder.

B2: Aw Blondie, thanks love! I'm having a brilliant day!

B: What are you doing tonight?

B2: Going for dinner with the family.

B: Niiice. I should call your mom. After all it is birth-giving day for her too

B2: That it is. Can you believe 26 years ago my mother pushed me out of her vagina?

B: Um, well, fuck, yes...interesting thought.

B2: Vagina. Vagina. Vagina. Love that word. Vag... Oh shit...

B: What's going on?

B2 whispering: I'm in a press conference.

B: Fuck off. Seriously?

B2: Yup. Apparently, I'm louder than the speaker. Oh great. I'm getting death stares now. Gotta go.

Love her.

Tomorrow night Zob, Special K, Blondie 2 and I are going to celebrate all 3 of their birthdays!! Should be a complete debaucherous night. Good. Can't wait.

The Cosmopolitans had better be amazing. I am looking forward to wrapping my lips around those pretty martini glasses.

I had a photo shoot today. Man. I really enjoyed it, but seriously. How the hell do you give a "sexy look"; a "angry look"; a "seductive look" and a "really seriously happy look" without looking like a cheesy freak?

It's hard. Suck in the tummy so you can barely breathe, make sure the back is straight but not stiff, adjust the twins so they look boobalicious oh and please, look natural.

Sure.

Just an average day in the office, right? Dude. Insanity. How the hell do these models do it?

My cheeks are sore, I have more make-up on than a tranvestite and more hairspray in my goldilocks than Patricia Lewis does.

I'm prepared to take a bet.

BUT...the photo's are fuckalicious. I'm just saying. Modestly.

I'm proud.

Hurling Heritage Day

Oh God! I sure made up for my bitching last night. If you didn't read the previous post, I was pretty miffed out with the fact that everyone was partying up a storm and I was in bed early for a half day of work the next day. Half day, whatever. Work is work. I like to think of it as: doing my bit for the economy.
;-)

Special K, Blondie 2 and I went for a girly lunch, instead of the braai today. Let me explain.
We were supposed to have a braai with the gang, but someone had to go and get pissed last night and is hanging like a donkey on steroids.
Dude. The man is so ill and instead of being mad, I find him adorable…he reverts to a cute 8 year old boy you just want to nurse. I will never tell him this. You know why.

So, I was all super psyched for potato salad, chicken kebabs and a boerewors roll; and that craving went straight out the window. It went out the window, when I heard the man hurl his stomach contents straight down the toilet. I know this sounds bizarre and gross, but he vomits weirdly. I know there is no “right” way to vomit and I am going to sound incredibly mean, because I should be concerned, but I find it hilarious. Seriously. He makes the funniest sounds. He sounds like a combination of a hyena laughing, coughing up a fur ball and well, the general “normal” up chuck sound.
Man, it is funny. Trust me. I would say you have to be there, but that’s really sadistic isn’t it?
Can you imagine? “Hi guys, come around… you know I was telling you about the man’s weird vomiting sounds, well, I thought you should experience it first hand, so let’s feed him revolting things to make it happen. Trust me; it’s going to be the best time ever. Ever!”

Anyway, I called up the gang to find out what the vibe was with having a braai. If everyone was still keen, well, sorry for vomit boy... but they all dropped like flies... all of them were hanging. Bunch of babies.
All of them, except my best girls*. Blondie 2 and Special K were still keen to do something. I left the man lying in bed curled into the foetal position, muttering the usual: “I’m never drinking again. No really. I mean it this time. Fuck I wanna die…shit, pass me the bucket…”
I asked if he wanted me to stay, but he kind of waved me off, muttering: “Kill me.” and “Have a good time!”

We met up for sushi and Cosmopolitans. Lunch with girls is never an hour or two.
6 hours later, sun setting, several Cosmo’s in and stomachs literally sore from laughing, we called it a day.
The bill showed that we had enjoyed 13 Cosmopolitans between the 3 of us. We paid the bill and it was only when we were in the car park that we suddenly realised that made no sense. How can 3 girls share 13 cosmos? They either didn’t charge us for an extra one (yeah right) or they over charged us by one (probably.)
My head is spinning and I’m feeling a little bad. What heritage did I celebrate today? I drank Cosmopolitans – for Johannesburg (work with me here) and I ate sushi for…um… well... I’m stumped.
I bought biltong on my way home. Does that count?
The man is still on the couch, watching Absolute Formula 1 and stuffing his face with biltong and Lay’s Salt and Vinegar crisps. It helps with the nausea. Apparently. He is still hanging. Insane.
It’s another early night for me. This time, I really don’t mind. Those Cosmo’s are dangerous. Deliciously dangerous.

* I sound like a pimp. Niiiice.