Phuthu Stay Phut, Don't go!

MultiChoice is considering broadcasting pornography and the possibility of creating new sex channels on DStv’s satellite pay-TV service.

They are using e-mails for market research purposes to test the interest in various broadcasting options, such as the broadcasting of “mixed pornography” (hardcore porn between 21:00 and 05:00 and soft porn between 05:00 and 21:00), hardcore porn 24 hours per day, or soft porn 24 hours per day on DStv.

Do you think the general South African populace is equipped to deal with this kind er….. selection? Do you think it will be like pouring fuel on the fire of sexual abuse and exploitation already running rampant in our country. Or do you think that we are responsible enough to make our own decisions if given the opportunity.

Have your say!

This is a sensitive topic to tackle as people are generally all at different stages and in different places – some more gatvol than others and with good reason. I’m sure we can all list a few things that are causing our lil’ flames to burn low: Eskom, Zuma, DSTV’s porn channel - to name just a few. SA is not Lalaland, although a bit of candyfloss, happy thoughts and a decent police force would be a welcome change.

The mind is an extremely powerful organ. If we hang around negative people long enough our thinking becomes just that: Soiled. It’s the natural flow of things: Trash in, trash out. But like with everything else in life, we have a choice. We are ultimately in control of what we allow our minds to feed on. If we fill it with crime statistics, Malema’s yada-yada and all the latest gossip it will eventually snowball and create a destructive pattern of negative thinking that will control our emotions.

I like to think of myself as a Hopeful Realist and will admit [on record] that this country is everything but fully functional at the moment, but I can’t allow it to get the better of me. I’m not talking wishful thinking or fairies – I’m talking common sense and mind over matter.

There is a life to be lived and I’m planning on living it to the absolute full whether Malema gets away with the moola, Eskom cashes in on all our hard-earned money or whether the neighbours get hijacked. Every day consists of many moments and we lose out on these moments when we get consumed with all the bad stuff happening around us.

I have devided my life into 3 categories:

1. Our family: The family unit and its needs
2. Our problems: These are not minor problems that need solving, they are issues we don’t have the power to change, such as political issues, crime stats, Cell C’s poor service etc.
3. Our Wants: Stuff (material)

And this is how I deal with life (well, mostly):

1. If my family is effected directly I get all uppity and into battle mode. Action is needed and I’m very willing to take it.
2. If it falls under the problem category I remind myself that I cannot change the situation, so I let it go and move on swiftly, or rather, eventually.
3. If it’s a stuff problem – it’s just that: Stuff. It has no value or power to influence the quality of my life.

I think the way to go is to be informed and to do whatever you can to bring change and keep the powers that be on their toes, but not to allow your thoughts to influence your emotions negatively.

That will just spoil your day and turn the milk sour.

Every second week my husband and I subject ourselves to a sports massage from our friend Carla. It’s a painful process and the only luxury involved is the fact that it’s done in the comfort of our lounge. I wrote a post on the modus operandi of a sports massage therapist last year – you can read it here .

I’m almost confident enough to say that we’re veterans at handling the pain these days.

But my friend Gina, who came along for a first-time massage with Carla last week, didn’t share the same sentiment.  It was with a seemingly sadist approach (but obviously not) that I captured the facial expressions that go hand-in-hand with a deep tissue massage.

It starts off pretty casual – note the arms in a relaxed position, folded behind the head.

But then, once the warm-up is finished after about 1 minute, the arms move down and clutch the sides of the plinth indicating slight discomfort. It’s still tolerable at this point.

Then comes the clutching of the plinth and the Stage One Grimace, indicating moderate discomfort. Here, Gina has closed her eyes and is trying to make her way to her quiet place.

Unfortunately the journey to that quiet place is cut short by the quad-fist-entrenchment. That results in the  Stage Two Grimace you see above, indicating severe discomfort.

So now you can say that you’ve learnt all about the typical facial and body expressions exhibited during a classic sports massage.

How many people can say that?!

Our dear BossLady aka Louisa is not with us this week. No, she is not sick. Neither is she busy killing herself in some endurance race. She went skiing in Austria, can you believe it! And here we sit, ol’ Kerry and myself, giving it our all. We answer the phones and pretend that we are the account department, the advertising department and the “no, we do not sell wedding cupcakes”-department. Let the good times roll.

We hope the two of you have a (snow)ball over there! We miss the way only you can strut them Zumba moves all the way to the printer and back!

I think in pictures so I couldn’t help trying to imagine where they’re at and what it looks like. Take the journey with me:

This is St. Anton in Austria. They might be here.
Or not.

This is some dude starting off on a fairly decent
slope, nothing too extreme. May even be our
Jeremy. Arent you supposed to wear a helmet
or something??

This is probably Jeremy – what he wouldn’t do
for a good shot.

Watch this space for an update. Can’t wait to see the real pics!

By Elzet

With all the ‘laughable’ media attention in the news lately about the antics of President Zuma and one Julius Malema, our normal positive attitude towards our beautiful country has dwindled somewhat. So we thought that we would brighten everybody’s Monday with a little bit of ‘sarci’ political humour. Enjoy!

Courtesy of: www.sagoodnews.co.za

Khalil ben-Omar became Calif of Baghdad. Shortly after taking up his new position, one of his advisors pointed out to him a little scruffy fellow riding a donkey in through the city gates. ‘That man,’ said the advisor, ‘is a trader from Pakistan. His name is Zulfiqa Khan and he is the biggest rogue in the entire country. Don’t let his appearance fool you. He’s hugely rich and for years he has been making a fortune out of smuggling, but we’ve never been able to catch him at it.’

The Calif was intrigued and ordered that the smuggler should be searched rigorously every time he entered or left the city. So each day Zulfiqa came riding into the city on his donkey and each day he was searched. Each evening he left on his donkey and each evening he was searched. Nothing was found. But all the time he grew richer and richer.

At last the Calif could stand it no longer and he had Zulfiqa summoned to him. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I admit defeat. You have been smuggling for years and I have never caught you. Just tell me how you did it and I will let you marry my daughter and make you one of the richest men in Baghdad.’

What was Zulfiqa Khan smuggling?