A comprehensive guide to all that is crap: Part 2

G: Geriatric Drivers

• Wow, old people who drive can suck on monkey ball hairs. Their licences should be removed from their possession before they reach 60. Everybody knows that once you reach 60 you become a person of poor judgement, weak motor skills, little (or no) hearing ability, and of course, partially blind. Not to mention inconsiderate of other drivers on the road. Combine all of these lovely, timeless traits and you have a recipe for disaster and hit and runs. I got flipped off the other day by a grandpa driving a damn nice Volvo, who stole my parking space. He was clearly the one in the wrong, but, when I hooted in dismay at his old ass, he actually zapped me. It was so bloody rude I didn't know what to do. I just cried and drove away. Although it was rude, I suppose that when I am old, I will be just as rude. I actually can't wait to crash into young and inexperienced drivers and then claim insanity and Alzheimers when they try to press charges. I suppose I will flip people off as much as I like, because I am old, and because I can. Bitch.

Would you trust this man at the wheel? I think not...

H: Hair removal

• Hair removal of any kind is crap. Try the hair removal cream, you smell like you've just emerged from a sulphur experiment and your hair merely breaks off  for weeks, leaving your underwear looking like a wig. (it doesn't disappear, as they falsely claim, and so you tend to find it in the most bizarre places that you didn't expect) Try an epilator, and you are left with burn marks and a fear of anything battery powered. Try waxing and, well. The end is near. I went for a wax the other day, and halfway through making irrelevant small talk with the beautician about various other downstairs' that she waxed she pointed out to me "Um, you're reacting really badly to this treatment". "Oh, am I? Maybe it's because you just ripped out all of my pubic hair with hot wax?" What the beautician called a "mild reaction" turned out to be a very embarassing trip to the chemist, where on the way I tried to rub up against just about every sharp object I could find to ease the never ending itch that had seized my downstairs.(eg. chair backs, corners of tables, sharp wall corners, my car door, etc)

If Oprah doesn't trust it, neither should you...

I: Ill-mannered service staff

• I'm sorry, but if you are providing a service to someone, you should actually provide them with a service. And not a motive for murder. I, myself, am an ex-waitress, and so I deeply appreciate waitrons and treat all of them with the utmost respect. I visited a restaurant a couple years ago where the waiter brought me ribs, when I clearly ordered steak. "Um, I didn't order ribs, I  ordered the steak." "No you didn't, you ordered the ribs, I heard you." "Um, no, I really didn't, I don't even like ribs." "Well, you ordered them, so now you can eat them." "Excuse me? Can I please speak to your manager?" *Manager comes over, we complain, and he calls back waiter* "I apologise for bringing you the wrong meal." "That's ok, thank you for apologising." "But you seriously ordered the ribs, I don't care what you say." "Ok......" Not going back there again. Say goodbye to your 10%, asshole. You can go to hell, and take your damn ribs with you.

J: Just about everything sold at Verimark

• Verimark, the home of every crap thing in the universe. I don't know how much crapper you can really get than "the genie bra" or "the floor wiz" or "the fake hair piece that even your husband won't notice". Verimark hosts a range of contradicting products. For example, we have: "Gorilla steering wheel lock, NOTHING cuts through Gorilla" vs. "Shogun knives, cuts through ANYTHING!!" Really? Does it now? What about your famous "Gorilla steering wheel lock? Hey? I thought that was resistant to anything? Including your Shogun knives. Now what? Imagine there was a sudden influx of cars with gorilla gear locks which had been cut through by Shogun knives? What would you do then, Verimark? I suppose you would find yourself in somewhat of a pickle. Not only are their products contradictory and crap, so is their packaging. A friend of mine worked for them as a graphic designer and he said that whenever he tried to design some cool packaging for a product, a superior would say, "No, I don't like it, it needs more lumo pink and eighties font. Change it." He said it was the worst job ever.

K: Karaoke

• Wow. There is nothing I hate more in this world than karaoke. I have never felt more embarassed or uncomfortable, than with a mike in my one hand and my drink in the other. Karaoke is basically the source of the majority of my shortcomings in life. It is the reason I was kicked out of a "chinese men ONLY karaoke club", it was the reason why I threw up on a parking meter, and it was also the reason why my boyfriend swallowed a chicken wing whole, without chewing and recognizing a bone in the meat, and nearly choking to death. One night after a hot date with Kyle, I was feeling quite pissed, and so decided to call up Diana and Nats and arrange a second hot date for the evening. I told Kyle to come meet up with us later at Terrace. Little did I know, it was karaoke night, and I was feeling bold. I don't remember much of the night, but unfortunately there is photographic evidence of the ordeal.Kyle has claimed that, when he came to meet up with us, our trio was seen singing "If you wanna be my lover" by the Spice Girls, where Nats and Diana both have microphones, and I was singing loudly and proudly into my Hunters Dry bottle. Without even knowing that it was a drink. And not, in fact, a broken microphone. He told me that he left quietly and went home instead...

L: Left over coffee/ wine in cups/ glasses whilst washing dishes

• You know when you decide to tackle that load of dishes. No fear, just grease. You set out with such good intentions, get all that crockery squeaky clean and be able to see your reflection in the wine glasses. Well, your job is made impossible when every Tom, Dick and Harry decides to leave half of his wine/ coffee in his glass/ cup. Nice one, asshole. Could you really not have finished that? Thank you for making my life a misery. I can't just toss it into the water carelessly, now can I? So what do I do? Do I trundle outside and toss out the stagnant liquid into my garden when it could've gone into your mouth? Or do I contaminate all of my other dishes with your liquid filth? My day is ruined. There are starving kids in Africa, so come on now, finish your bloody drink so that I may avoid a heart attack due to stress.

M: My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding

• Gypsies are pretty crap. Have you ever watched "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding"? Bloody hell it is an international crisis in the making!! I'm not sure how it works...I always thought Gypsies were free spirits called "travellers". I thought I liked the idea of being a "traveller" once, until I was met with the horrific reality that is the life of a gypsy. It turns out that Gypsies are more than just "travellers" of land. They are travellers of much, much more. Apparently gypsies live in an irrelevant time where crushed velvet, tattoo chokers, and  LED-lit wedding dresses are the height of fashion. Lord save us from the Gypsies. It is not the brides on "My big fat Gypsy wedding" who are my primary concern, I am more worried about the prepubescent gypsy child-whores who dance around like a more crazed version of Britney Spears in the "I'm a slave 4 U" music video. On tik. We have something to worry about if these so called "travellers" are to interbreed. Many things to worry about in fact. Like the tragic epidemic that the gypsies call "bridesmaid dresses". By Jove. If, by some Godforsaken reason I were to ever befriend a Gypsy, I think that I would very hastily de-friend that Gypsy very quickly if I were a bridesmaid. Please see below:

Gypsy Children

------------------------------->

Turn into Gypsy Brides

<---------------------------------------

Who turn into Gypsy skanks with compulsory skank brigade. Not my pick for a bridesmaid dress, but hey, it's not my "special day".

Unbelievable.

A comprehensive guide to all that is crap. Part one

Is it just me, or are a lot of things very crap? An A-Z of the crappest things around.


A: Adverts for life insurance

• Thanks for reminding me about my imminent death, but I'd rather spend my money while I am alive, thank you kindly for your concern.
• Also, does nobody watch CSI? Do you not know that life insurance is always the motive for murder? Well, that, and a love-scorned crime of passion. The bottom line is that I'd rather not be murdered though for the money that I cant enjoy.

"Lets kill that tight- assed rat bastard and life off his life insurance, Mom! Oooohhh Yeah!!"

B: buying petrol, electricity and toilet paper

• There is nothing worse than spending your hard earned money on things that you actually cannot go without. I DESPISE spending money on petrol, but I had to learn the hard way about how you actually cannot go without it...particularly if your job is 8km away and it rains a lot. And how suddenly everybody who wants to give you a lift has now become a potential rapist.
• Buying electricity is even worse, as apparently there's not much you can do without it. I am stubborn when it comes to these things but I have only recently discovered that my stubbornness is a bit ridiculous. It was pointed out to me how silly I am when my boyfriend came home to find sitting in the complete darkness, drinking a glass of room temperature water and watching a blank TV. "Hey, um, what are you doing?", "Nothing", "Um, yes, I see that, why are you doing nothing?", "I didn't feel like buying electricity", "I see..."
• But out of all of these buying toilet paper is the worst. Because this is something you REALLY cant do without. I instead prefer to steal it in multiple quantities from my place of work. I've even created a scenario in my head about what I'll do should I be discovered. It's a work and progress though, it's not ready to be revealed yet. The greatest success of all is when my boyfriend returns home from the SS with a sports bag full to the brim with 2-ply toilet paper. We're a great team.

C: Crap DJ's

• I recently attended a string of weddings, where I got too drunk and twisted my ankle. But that is irrelevant. What is relevant, however, is the crapocity of the DJ which provided nothing but "Lurrv jams" from start to finish. Apparently he even asked the bridal couple what sort of music they liked and went about making them a play list, only to shut the door of decency in their face and play Bee Gees and commercialised pop the entire night on "their special day". To make matters worse, the DJ played at 2 out of 3 of the weddings,  and bloody nearly 3 out of 3 (had I not intervened). This DJ was not only useless at life, he messed up the bridal couple's first dance, tripped out all the lights in the venue, failed to provide a stable dance floor and last, but not least, bought a monkey to a wedding. The monkey was wearing a diaper. And I saw the DJ's "lady friend" (although I'm not sure "lady" is the appropriate word) change the monkey's diaper on the bar. I also saw the monkey bite a small child and it was probably the reason for the rabies (as well as HIV/AIDS) outbreak in South Africa. 

D: Drivers who think it's ok not to use their indicators and who sneak past you into the parking you were waiting for.

• This is the ultimate of all that is crap. You know it's going to happen when you have been waiting very patiently for a very old, partially blind geriatric to do a 60 point turn to get out of their parking space. Just as you are about to pull in, some asshole wearing sunglasses in an undercover parking area, driving a generic sports car screams into the parking space, blaring his music and grinning at you apologetically. No, it's not ok, you shit stain. Just wait till I find another parking spot. On top of your car. You pig.

E: Examinations

• "Hey, you think you're smart? You think you're clever there buddy? Why don't I set you straight with a past paper from 100 years ago that clearly contains content which I told you not to learn. Ha. Who's the smart one now?"

F: Food poisoning

• Wow food poisoning is crap. My dear friend Squiggy recently gave me all the contents in her fridge. "I was going to give it to a hobo or something, but you can just have it instead." "Wow, thanks." In this care package I discovered a nice big tupperware full of what looked like very sick mince. I frowned at it, but Squiggy assured me that, although it looked strange and was cooked by a German, it tasted really good." Well, she was wrong. I invited my friend Kenny over to share the German mince with me at our sewing club. I spruced it up with a little tomato sauce and various other condiments (apparently NAZI's don't believe in seasoning).It still looked pretty sick, but we ate it anyway.Thinking everything would be fine I went to bed with a full stomach, feeling satisfied, only to be woken in the dead of the night with blinding tummy cramps and violent diarrhoea. Nothing unusual for me though. The best part was when I went to visit Kenny the next day and she was dying in her bed of dehydration and had been up all night and day with the very violent runs. She was very weak. But it was quite funny.Please refer to "Oops you crapped your pants" to learn the consequences of food poisoning.

To be continued...

Oops! You crapped your pants.....

Everytime you think you're a genius, you need to think back to the time when you were learning not to crap your pants. Whether you're 4 or 84, it's something that has definately happened to you. Whether you talk about it or not, it is something that has definately happened to you.Whether you buried your shitty pants in the garden and wore a dish towel as a skirt or not, it has definately happened to you. Dont deny it.

Below are a few of my favourite stories. A couple of them were just unlucky, or in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dont lie to yourself, they definately apply to all of you in more ways than one. And by the way, whenever I refer to "a friend of mine", I am not referring to myself, except when I am. In which case you will never know unless it is in fact you who I am talking about, in which case you'll know. You'll know.

"Oops, you crapped on uncle Jack's farm"
A newly wed friend of mine was staying at her uncle Jack's Aloe farm with a bunch of family and her newly wed husband. The family decided to go for a long stroll around the farm. My friend (let's call her Susan) and her husband were strolling along when the feeling suddenly hit Susan. There was not a toilet in sight When you gotta go you gotta go.Susan and her new husband (which, I might add, had no idea of her IBS at the time they married) opted to stray to the back of the crowd and nonchalantly observe the Aloes,one of millions on the farm. When the coast was clear, Susan darted for the nearest cover, and went about her business. Needless to say when she was done, the only form of  tp around her was an abundance of aloes. Ouch. No thanks. So she went for the only possible option, she just used her undies and then tossed them aside either to be eaten by a hungry dassie or to be used as very crap fertiliser for the aloes. Thinking nothing of it, and carrying on with her stroll, she mentioned none of this to her husband and tried to act like she hadnt just performed this demeaning act. Until the next day when they went on a game drive around the farm and passed the exact spot where the misdemenour had occurred. Susan realised in horror that it was at this place because, when she had carelessly disposed of her panties, she had, in fact, thrown them directly into the tree above her whose poor, unsuspecting branches hung directly over the road, and thereby, her unassuming shitty undies hung there too, just waiting to be discovered by her family and her new husband. Very pleasant.

"Oops, you crapped and broke the toilet"
You know when you go to a new friend's house and you're too afraid to do a number 2 because you havent yet established where poo-humour stands in your friendship? Or simply where poo stands? We've all been there. This story is one of my favourites. *Mike and a couple of his friends had gone over to their new friend *Amy's house for the weekend. I repeat, new friend. One is never comfortable pooing in a new environment, particularly a new friend's home. You dont want to offend them, and you also dont want them to know that you poo. So what do you do? You cant just not poo the entire weekend. My best technique is the one I call "the shower" technique. Where you say you're going to have a shower, then you go about your business and shower afterward, giving the smell time to evaporate by the time you vacate the shower, leaving your unassuming host none the wiser.
However, this technique doesnt work for everyone. Especially when the toilet breaks because the poo you have made destroyed their plumbing. This was the case for my poor friend *Mike. He is also a fan of the "shower" technique, and made ample use of it over the weekend at his new friend's house. It worked until the toilet didnt want to flush because of his monster duke.  Mike was flustered, he had no idea what to do. I mean, what would you do? You dont want to alert your host to the fact that you have broken their toilet by crapping in it, because what if they come in and try to fix it and see your poo? Goodbye new friend, hello ostracism. It's a sticky situation. So Mike did what any humiliated homosapien would do, he started the shower. He then scooped out the poo into a plastic bag (God knows where that came from) and climbed out the bathroom window, taking his loot with him. Now, any normal human being would simply have run away, carrying their bag of faecal matter on their back, and left the country. But not Mike. No. After climbing out the window he found a secluded spot in the garden, away from the prying eyes of his host and he began to dig a hole. He buried his own crap in his new friend's garden like it was a beloved pet who had been a part of the family for decades. After this he returned to the bathroom via the window and carried on with his fake shower. Hours later he emerged, feeling very proud of himself. I dont know whether to be proud or appalled, but it does make you think, doesnt it?

"Oops, you crapped when you fainted"
Shame. This is a most unfortunate story of a friend whose dehydration and sickness caused her to void her bowels on the kitchen floor of her family friends' chalet in the Christmas holidays. She was already sick with food poisoning due to Berg water, which didnt help, and so she avoided the family outing to the golf course and opted for a quiet morning at the chalet, crapping her brains out. At some point she was fooled into thinking she was strong enough to go to the kitchen and pour herself a refreshing glass of Coca Cola. She was wrong. The blood went straight to her head and she fainted on the kitchen floor. When she came to, she discovered to her dismay, that she had sharted on the kitchen floor. ("Sharted" Def: When you fart and a bit of shit comes out) Thank the pope anybody who may have been around to witness the event were out on the golf course. But still, it happened. And somebody had to clean it up. Im just saying.

"Oops, you crapped on the dance floor"
This is among one of the worst. You think its funny to fart on the dance floor because nobody knows that its you. But its a different story when you crap your pants on the dance floor. Particularly if you are wearing a g-string and a skirt. There isnt really anywhere for it to go. So what does one do? A friend of mine suffered this exact dilemma. Later, she pondered whether she could've behaved more appropriately and avoided the situation altogether. But thats irrelevant, because it had already happened.
Once she'd crapped her pants, or skirt, she knew she had to get to the bathroom, albeit a bit too late. But how does one get there when you are wearing a g-string and a short skirt? Do you walk swiftly to the bathroom just to get there and risk dropping doodies on your way? Or do you creep and clench the whole way there, but then allow the smell to linger which'll make your peers more suspicious of your slow and unsturdy creep? Tough call. Very tough call. Im not sure how she got there, but word is she's still alive and thriving, so everything must've worked out.

Even if you've never told anyone about your mishap, it doesn't make it disappear.
 We're all the same. We're all just crusing through life, breaking hearts and trying not to crap our pants.