Non-Smoker

So I have officially been demoted… Or is promoted? Mmmm, guess it depends which way you look at it ruh-hee-hee-here-ly but basically today is the day of new beginnings. The day my lungs will no longer have to fight to savour the intake of fresh oxygen. No longer will they be clogged with tar and nicotine, forced to deal with the blackness within – ok so this is starting to sound a bit like something written on the set of Days of Our Lives *dum dum dum*

No seriously though, I have quite smoking. Probably for the 50th time in the space of a year but this time I swear I am committed, I SWEAR! I wanted to get that point where I hated, ok that is a slight exaggeration, having a smokey Joe – my goal was to achieve this unthinkable event by the end of January…

Of course, the non-smoking universe had other plans for me...

This D day, as it came to be known in my mind, managed to somehow creep up on me like a crouching Tiger waiting to maul his prey to death (ok I have no fucking idea as to why I am using all these morbid images – maybe I am still in the grieving period over the loss of my ciggies…).

My first day as a non-smoker hasn’t been that bad. I mean I don’t know why people kick up such a fuss really, no withdrawal symptoms experienced at all, barring having the following experiences / wishes:

1. Throw cup of steaming hot coffee at irritating work colleague, smile whilst watch them scream in terror;
2. Tell Tame B to fuck right off and to derelick my balls (if I had balls);
3. Take out unidentified annoyance on keyboard, the space bar is especially appealing;
4. Swear countlessly at computer – very fucking stupid machine, I hate Bill Gates…

So all in all it has been a relatively normal day – withdrawal symptoms my ass!

Elementary, my dear Watson…

For most people the notion of being told to fuck right off is a very simple, possibly brutal, concept to grasp. But nonetheless it does not command major thought or insurmountable levels of understanding… Right? Well not in Cockhead’s case. The man is just simply plain fucking ignoramusly stoopid!

Crazy B hooked up Cockhead a while ago when she came to visit me in Jozi in November. Instantly we took one look at each other (that’s Cockhead and I) and the dislike was evident. Mainly because I could see that he was a complete fucking wanker and total waste of human space. A true oxygen thief. Nonetheless he seemed to make my best mate happy and so I kept quiet. That was, of course, until he turned all psycho on her and started to give her a play-by-play of what their married life would be like! Um, huh, what, sorry but can we fucking pause and rewind!!! The dude just lost the plot…

Through all of this he still came down to Cape Town and went to the same New Years bash that we did. Crazy B got a bit toasted and so he was of course the first to jump at the offer to take her to the car where she could sleep off the booze. As the über tart that I am there was just no fucking way on God’s green earth that this was going to happen. Of course this little plan totally screwed up his idea of a romantic evening with my past out mate! He got a bit abusive with me, I contemplated kicking him in the not-worth-mentioning-nuts (note to the boys: tarts talk) but then realized that I loved my shoes too much. So I did what any Italian would do and kicked up such a commotion that the parking guards would have thought I was being raped!…

But I digress slightly…

Basically, Crazy B told Cockhead to fuck off, lose her number and never to bother contacting her again. Simple enough instructions. Think a fucking illiterate starving child who spoke alien could have understood that. But oh no, not this buffoon… Low and behold if he doesn’t send Crazy B an email wishing her happy birthday for tomorrow! I mean Jesus H Christ man save what little fucking manhood you have and move the fuck on! Has he never heard that song Walk on By…?

Fuck off isn’t code for please oh please contact me, send me flowers and whilst you’re at it ask me to marry you! It is the one phrase that whether you come from Venus or Mars has no room for misinterpretation! It means what it says, period.

This guy has got to be the thickest fucking example of the male species that I have ever had the misfortune of having to meet. What a toss, what a wanker and most of all: what a fucking idiot!

Closing Time

So today is this tart's official last day of 2006 in the bacon making factory! And I couldn't be happier... Have never wanted or wished time to windle away so quickly! What a year it has been: monumental hook-ups, massive and huge debaucherious piss-ups, a few fuck-ups (naturally not this tart's fault) and then of course the usual hum drum of everyday live in this concrete jungle I call home...

I am especially looking forward to the boozy, jam jar filled lunch that Super H, Crombie plus moi will be having... Gotta love Primi! But in the meantime, while I sit here and watch the clock tick tocking away, I have but one song in my head that truly encapsulates the beauty of the last day of work...

Closing time - time for you to go out, go out into the world.
Closing time - turn the lights up over every boy and every girl.
Closing time - one last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer.
Closing time - you don't have to go home but you can't stay here.

I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
Take me home...

Closing time - time for you to go back to the places you will be from.
Closing time - this room won't be open 'til your brothers or you sisters come.
So gather up your jackets, and move it to the exits - I hope you have found a friend.
Closing time - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

Yeah, I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
Take me home...

Closing time - time for you to go back to the places you will be from...

I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
I know who I want to take me home.
Take me home...

Closing time - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end...