How did I make it to Monday?

Ah. Monday morning. My favourite time of the week. Apart from all the other ones, of course.
But I was actually quite delighted to make it through to this particular Monday morning.

As my alarm sounded (thankfully slightly later than the infamous 5:19), I rolled over on the 30cm strip of mattress which remained unclaimed by my wife and her onboard foetus and lazily reached out from under the security and warmth of the covers for the TV remote to flick on the news. I was greeted by the beaming face of Geraldine Fraser-Moleketi, South African Minister for Public Service and Administration. This was slightly perturbing, as I hadn’t actually switched the TV on yet. I opened my eyes again and Geraldine was gone. Shame – she could have got me a coffee.

1029_largeGeraldine – too 80’s popstar for Government?

Such are the hazards of waking up after a hectic weekend involving curry, a heated political argument with a couple of lesbians, a singing fibreglass train, a tub of pink butter icing, a Castle Milk Stout or two, a giggling monkey, an essential visit to a local pharmacy and an urgent – but minor – service for the new vacuum cleaner.
And if you think I’m lying about any one of those, then you’re unfortunately mistaken.
Unfortunately for me, at least.

The big event of the weekend was a second birthday party for our son. No-one is more surprised than me that he’s made it this far*, bearing in mind that for at least some of that time, he’s been in my care. A whole 731 days** is not to be sniffed at, but judging by the green ooze permanently emanating from his left nostril, sniffing is an art which he has yet to perfect anyway. Photos of the party, selectively edited to avoid any audience exposure to catarrh, will be posted to flickr at some point this week.

Roll on 5pm Friday, at which point the madness restarts. Albeit hopefully with less pink butter icing.
In the meantime, a combination of Placebo, Arno Carstens, REM, Smashing Pumpkins and an occasional coffee will aid with my further recovery.

OK – perhaps he is as well.
** It’s a leap year, remember?

Phone envy

Readers,

As I write this, I find that I am in the most unusual of situations. One that is new to me. One that I have never before experienced.  A difficult, delicate, unfortunate situation. But worst of all – an embarrassing situation.

Not the acute embarrassment that one feels when one exits the public toilets in Canal Walk trailing a long and dubiously stained tail of 1-ply from the back of one’s trousers. Or so I’d imagine anyway. No, that’s bad (like I say, so I’d imagine), but this is worse. It’s chronically embarrassing. This is the ongoing dull ache of a pulled muscle compared to the immediate but short-lived pain of a kicked shin.

I can hardly bring myself to admit this in such a public forum, but… but…

My wife has a better mobile phone than me.

Yes. I know. (Sorry, can someone help that poor man who’s fainted at the back, please?)

Compare and contrast my previously snazzy, but now aging W900i with her sparkling new and annoyingly-awesome K850i. It’s sickening. And the worst bit is that I was the one who advised her to rid herself of her cumbersome and error-prone Nokia N70 and equip herself with some K850i loveliness.
And who’s laughing now, huh? Well, actually, she is. Repeatedly.
Each time she innocently asks “have you seen what else it can do?” and demonstrates the latest dazzlingly brilliant feature she has discovered to our friends, she may as well be saying, “I’ll do the braai’ing tonight dear – remember you couldn’t get the fire lit last time, you snivellingly miserable excuse for a man!”

But enough is enough is enough (I can’t go on, I can’t go on, no more no…)
So – I’m ready to fight back. June is upgrade time and I have been browsing the Sony Ericsson site:


Sony Ericsson site screenshot

I can’t help thinking that they’ve missed a trick on there though. Where’s the checkbox for I want to: Have a better phone than my wife? Surely that is more important than all those other choices? After all, at the end of the day, the modern mobile phone must do everything, but more significantly, must have at least one more feature than whatever your missus is using.

I have found some very eligible young hardware which which to reclaim my rightful, alpha-male place on the mobile throne, chez 6000. Step forward Ms C902 and your roommate and “special friend”, Miss G900. Baby, I don’t claim to be an expert on mobile telecommunications devices, but I know what I like and I like what I see. Nice buttons, sweetie. So – do you girls come here often?*

Only problem being that they probably won’t be available in South Africa until 2012.

Hmm…I feel the need for a trip back home coming on…

* 6000 has been out of the dating game for some time.

Overheard at the rugby

Cape Town’s Stormers take on the Crusaders from New Zealand.

We will win this game.

We’re the South African team – we invented humanity, for f***s sake – we’re the Cradle of Humankind.
We were the first nation to f*****g invent nuclear missiles and then give it all up.

We can’t lose this game.

Final score: Stormers 0-22 Crusaders

Moral of the story: Success doesn’t automatically follow big achievements.
(Oh, and you should have kept those missiles).

“Overall, it’s gone exceptionally well”

So says Dr Basil Bonner, head of the emergency unit at the Milnerton Medi-Clinic of the Cape Argus Cycle Tour 2008 via iol.co.za. (Thanks, DC)

I’m very glad to hear it, Baz. Let’s see what the good doctor is referring to, shall we?

About 65 people had to be taken to hospital during the Argus Cycle Tour in Cape Town, two of them with suspected heart attacks.

“We had two serious head injuries, a third with a fractured hip and pelvis, and two patients, both in their 60s, with unconfirmed heart attacks. They’re in hospital having tests done,” Dr Basil Bonner, head of the emergency unit at the Milnerton Medi-Clinic, said on Sunday.

“Overall, it’s gone exceptionally well”

Yep – that all sounds just peachy! For a moment there, I was mildly concerned that you might just have been pulling the wool over our eyes and that someone might actually have got hurt while preventing me from taking the family for a relaxing Sunday on Seaforth beach.
But no. Obviously not.

From time to time, the local* doom and gloom merchants accuse me of wearing rose-tinted spectacles**.
However, I think that even they would have to agree that any optimism I dare to show on this site pales into complete insignificance against your blinkered view of the facts.

In fact, I was wondering if I could borrow your phrase to describe completely overlook any bad day I may have in the future:

Yes, I did crash the car twice on the way to the lab this morning. And when I got here, I found that all the data that I’d collected over the past 3 years had been corrupted and the back-up discs had been accidentally sold to a user called BackupDiscSmasher on eBay. Then my hand slipped on the ill-thought-out XDR-TB release lever and consequently, I released a large cloud of XDR-TB across Cape Town. Thus, I was summarily dismissed from my job.
On the way home I crashed my car twice more and arrived back just in time to see the last bits of my house burn down after an electrical fault on my PS2 lit up the pile of braai wood (Namibian Camelthorn, nogal!) I was hiding it under.

But… “overall, it’s gone exceptionally well.”

Mmm! I feel better already.

* local to that pessimists forum, anyway.
** which (proudly) I am, compared to their grey-tinted ones.

CTICC signwriters demand increase

And who can blame them?

Cape Town welcomes The World Congress


Link

A conference so dull, it’s guaranteed to put you to sleep. But at least that’s the idea, so it’s still one up on accountancy.