Month: October 2015

How to steal cake

If you must steal the National Cake, then steal enough.

Do not steal a piece of cake that weighs less than Thirteen Billion Pounds.  I can’t be bothered with the metric conversion to kilograms so pounds will have to do.  Yes, I know we were colonized by the British but I am giving these stealing tips in my newly-acquired American accent, so pounds is quite apt.

Please forgive me for being behind the times, I hear “Stealing is no longer Corruption”.  Perhaps, I should reword my sound advice-  Do not “take” a piece of cake that weighs less than Thirteen Billion Pounds.  Yes Billion, you heard me right. Millions is so mediocre, it even sounds like Minions – funny, right? Always remember that you are special and have nothing in common with the masses, those laughable minions, pitiful slaves of Nine-to-Fives.

Make it worth your while o, anything less than 13,000,000,000 lbs. would be so embarrassing. You mean it crossed your mind to eat less cake simply because you are worried about your expanding waistline? How vain! And you are also worried about dental cavities? How unambitious! Enough of that sanctimonious burst of conscience, go hard or go home!

Look, you must stop thinking of yourself alone, that is so inconsiderate to your unborn generation, your children’s children’s children and the children’s children after them.

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K-legged walk down memory lane

As far as the gist of this post is concerned, I should have just clicked the reblog button but I couldn’t be bothered with WP niceties.

I’m not the sort to plan and iron my work outfits for the entire week on a Sunday, that type of deliberation on my part can only mean one thing- that I might be PMSing.  Well, I simply open the clothes basket just before my shower and one of two things will happen:

  • The stars align and I find all the pieces that interlock perfectly to create a great outfit, or
  • I convince myself that I’ve nothing to wear even when I’m clearly surrounded by clothes.

Woman says

This morning, I was looking for something to wear and I came across a skirt that reminded me of a rather delightful incident that happened over a year ago.

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All things lace and beautiful

While driving through traffic, she bobbed her head along to the rhythm of the fuji music playing on the radio.  She let her gaze wander aimlessly and spotted the car on her wish list. It was two cars away, painted a sleek silver. “Too basic” she thought, hers would be a customised metallic bright pink chrome.

Lace tale

So bright that any Lastma officer with silly intentions of harassing her with “Oya, stop! park!”, (more…)