ROFLMFAO @ The Beach by Steven Wright

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Friday, 26 October 2007
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I don't normally do the "copy and past" thing, but I just HAD to share this. I almost killed myself laughing at this story from one of the best and one my most favorite comedians... ever! The dude is absolutely brilliant! Go to his site for more http://www.stevenwright.com

It'll lighten up your day.

Enjoy!


The Beach
by Steven Wright

Originally Published in Rolling Stone Magazine - Summer 1986

...
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ACDC & WTF?

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Thursday, 11 October 2007
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I just commented on a post written by Mouse and thought, "I'd like to share this". So I am...

I was driving home late last night after work and noticed that every single Office Park, business, car dealership showroom had ALL their lights on, ffs. How many businesses actually turn off unnecessary or nonessential lights off when the last person leaves? The amount of usage could be cut by huge amounts if they did. Can Eskom not target these offenders somehow?

Then there's a plethora of other signs, billboards, spotlights, neon adverts etc that could be switched off too. Another thought... how about switching off all street lights between certain hours, say from 22:00 to 04:00. I know there are some who say that it is a security risk, but less of a risk than the whole suburb reduced to darkness! If Eskom spent 10 more minutes I'm sure they could come up with a multitude of other ideas. It seems all to weak an excuse or the easy way out to just flip the big red switch, to the off position, on suburbia.

A Nalay in the dark
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Major Vodacon?

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Monday, 24 September 2007
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So..., after loads of research, speaking to "those in the know" and thumb-sucking on my broadband issues, I decided to go with a 3G modem for my Mac!

I arrived at Vodaworld in Joburg, fully enthused, and extended my contract to include a 500 Mb 3G contract. At the end of a blissful first month of being online, I got my invoice! I had gone slightly over the 500Mb limit. How could I have downloaded more than 500Mb? Anyway, giving them (Vodacom) the benefit of the doubt, I returned to Vodaworld and extended my contract to a 2GB limit.

Finally satisfied that all was in order and that I could now comfortably use the "extra" for my business, you know, for when I expand and get another employee! Very chuffed with my foresight and business prowess, I returned to happily chat on MyDL and do the occasional "Facebook drink". After a second month of being blissfully online, throwing sand at Oso in the MyDL sandpit and getting my name successfully removed of of Koo's Christmas list for the umpteenth time, I received my second invoice! It arrived, via e-mail, with my two cell phone accounts in a very neat little pdf package. "Very convenient, now I don't have to worry about the post box", I thought to myself.

The next thing I remember was laying on the floor, trying to figure out why my computer was at that strange angle. Slowly, I recovered to a sitting position and realized the computer was fine, it was the invoice that had so violently flung me to the floor! "You fool",  I thought to myself, "check it again". No! There it was again... A figure of 12,428.74, in nice neat Helvetica Bold 12pt... (JUST ON THE 3G ACCOUNT!!!) I quickly printed it out to make sure it was not a screen glitch or something of the sort. Nope, still there, but on paper this time. Panicking I turned the A4 folio upside down, then back again. No change, not even after violently shaking it!!

Grabbing the phone I called Vodacom to help me decipher this "code" they'd sent me. The lady was very helpful and "No sir, it is NOT printed out as bytes, ...and no sir, NOT bits either, ...and yes sir, it IS in SA Rands, ...and no sir, we do not cut it off once you've reached your limit, ...and yes sir, it's 19c per 1Mb to your limit and then R2 per 1Mb thereafter, ...and no sir, I cannot tell you how you managed to download over 8GB in one month, ... and no sir, we cannot send an itemized billing until you fax your request (in writing) with a copy of your ID book and a full set of finger prints, ...and yes sir, we'll do it within 48 hours... and thank you for calling sir".

With the well used brown paper bag, now crumpled up on my desk, I fax a very shakily handwritten fax, with full set of fingerprints, birth certificate, copy of ID book, TV license and dog license through to the number given to me. This was all done on the 5th of September.

Now, I'm not that big on "downloading"! I don't do porn, I don't download movies or even music for that matter, I don't send more than 5Mb files via e-mail, I don't forward ANY joke mail, I do however download upgrades for my software when it is available (one of the reasons for taking the 2GB contract in the first place). So, as I sit here in my own personal bewilderment,  I wonder if I don't have an outgoing mail virus or something??? Or maybe it is an error on Vodacom's side??? Or... damn, I feel another aneurysm developing.

It is now the 24th of September and after following up twice now, I am wondering if the very helpful lady meant 48 days. I will keep you "posted" the day I find out, whenever that may be!

A very flummoxed Nalay.
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Ponder the Wonder

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Tuesday, 12 June 2007
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Yar, sorry, it's another poem. Best way to express your "real-self" though!

I wrote this when I was doing loads of meditation. (I really should make time for it again...)

Ponder the Wonder

Lotus! Sit here and ponder,
then I let my mind wonder.
Seek and probe old friend,
watch that reality bend.
Magic and mystical glee,
further away, drifting free.

Countless past lives flickering by,
grey streaks of fire light up the sky.
Dew forming on a flower petal,
night breath silent, cold metal.
The muse stand watch by night,
Warmth? A fiery dawn just in sight.

Peace lingers in a tropical grove,
black broth bubbling on a coal stove.
Crashing falls into blue-green pools,
misty dreams of those suffering fools.
Flickering fires in the back of a cave,
blinding fear burning the eyes of a slave.

Moss growing on a forest bench,
warriors fighting in a far off stench.
Familiar chords pulling around me,
a rolling boat rocked by an angry sea.
Catching a pink fish with one hand,
injured and staving in a strange land.

Time? Let’s try force our way back,
don’t loose sight and leave the track.
This danger of probing the other side,
taking my power totem for one last ride.
Faltering mind grabbing some hold,
Playing with your soul if truth be told.

AGR
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A Brothers Promise

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Friday, 08 June 2007
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This is a poem I wrote for someone very close who passed away from cancer.
For Harry.

A Brothers Promise

Worry just won’t let you go
Organs fading, painfully slow
Desperatly holding on with love
Fighting that snow white dove
Family strong, silent, and brave
Still you fight that dreaded grave.

Praying for a bit more grace
A little longer, save some face
The need to cherish loved ones,
for just a few more perscious sun’s
Blazing pain in wet, fevered eyes
Everlasting promise up in the skies.

Soft grey skin hanging loose
Stealing breath before the noose
With warm tears rolling,
in fond memories strolling
Afraid to leave the past
Fighting with love to the last.

Only the promise from your brother
One you’ll accept from none other
To care for your family, as a mother
Only then to that promised peace
Finally off to rest, find some release.

Then the fragile life fades away
For in this realm no longer can you stay
Family and friends, for you they pray
Grim reaper…haunting those who stay.

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Tread the Fear

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Thursday, 31 May 2007
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Precious moments, with my wife,
rising off that raging fire of life.
Those beautiful, tiny sparks flashing,
Floating on the breeze, glowing passion.

Each in it’s own illuminated grace,
fading off to some other dimensional place.
Suddenly vanished, abruptly ending the ride,
yet, sparking again with you at my side.

Tiny bits of infinity, a lifetime paved,
these unseen images, cropped and saved.
Tempting me closer, a few more gifts to find,
only to tread the fear, uncertainly blind.

An awesome binary system of loving space,
a common destiny, binding this beautiful place,
held in union by the pull of two hearts beating.
So; tread the fear, await the next moments greeting.
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UEFA Kak final - YAWN!!

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Thursday, 24 May 2007
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So, as last night I sat in my lounge (sorry Townboy and Charmed - too cold to venture out ), watching the much anticipated "UEFA Champion League Cup Final" between AC Milan and Liverpool. Unfortunately my beloved Man U was eliminated from the competition, but that's a whole different bunch of blog, so I could watch as a neutral. The match kicked off and I was subjected to yet another typical Italian football match - ninety minutes of brilliance from (the much despised and hated) Liverpool and, yes, ninety minutes of eleven Milan players "driveling" the ball around the pitch. Booooooooorrring!!!!! In fact, AC Milan was soooo boring, their football should be used as a military weapon! (Or at least as a torture technique, even ol' "James" would spill all the beans after a mere 0.7 minutes).

Now don't get me wrong, I love football and have been watching since the age of two, but ONLY an Italian team could spoil a match the way AC Milan did last night. It was, without doubt, the most jejunely insipid football match to date. It's like there was only one team on the field. All kudos to Liverpool for staying awake for almost 90 minutes, except for nodding off for a couple of seconds to apparently concede two goals (I only saw one as I too, fell asleep on my couch!). At least Liverpool kept me awake for the firt 45! Why are all Italian teams are coached to defend for the entire game and hopefully rely on some or other "Billiantzillian" to score a goal for them? Then, if they do "manage" to score a goal, they'll defend that lead by (yes you guessed it) playing defensively. Has any Italian team ever played a whole match without defending for less than 89 minutes? UEFA should ban all Italian teams from the league, until they learn how to attack more than twice in a game.

So well done to "the Pool" for managing to stay awake for a full 89 minutes!

When will the world see the ONLY truly great football team.... MAN UNITED!!!!




et al!
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Candy Flip Trip

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Friday, 11 May 2007
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Well it seems as though I got through the censorship board, so here goes...

Candy Flip Trip


I see your wet shiny face
That flickering; perspiring pace
Chemical launch, my candy flip
An insane, psychedelic acid trip.

Up and up on house & trance
a pumping, ritual tribal dance
Kaleidoscopic visual display
Surging blood, turn ashen grey.

Hallucinate, visions shift – shimmer
Rational life becomes just a glimmer
Chemicals pinch the base of my scull
Senses wired; rampant emotions dull.

Chillin’ on a big silky pillow
Chase away that green Armadillo!
Reality’s gone, a thing of the past
How fucking long is this gonna last?

Aware right from the start
must look cool, can’t be smart
So! what goes up must come down
Get ready, Jack may break his crown.

Shit, where’s the landing gear
Rising bile; swallowing that fear
Abused body, scorched mind raw
Intense crash landing on the floor.

Sinking down into your quiet place
Bent fetal position, arm over face
In uneasy slumber, try’n recuperate
Another life auctioned off by fate?

Unorganised! The next Mother Rave
Ringed eyes, I crawl out my cave
Hey Mert, get me another candy flip
Superman! A brand new 12 hour trip!

Go bigger, must dig in, party hard
Push limits, tear off some more card
Just a clenching candy flipped slave
Praying this one’s not to my grave.

AGR
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Mass Destruction - Peom

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Friday, 11 May 2007
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I thought I'd throw one or two of my poems out there. Here's the first one, the other has been sent for evaluation on SNLV-18. Please feel free to crit/comment on this one though...

Mass Destruction

So, it starts, Rook to Bishop three
Smoke and mirrors for all to see
Twin towers sent to heaven
Possibly funded by your brethren?

The Generals battle on a board
These are real people, my Lord!
Three shiny castles on a shoulder
Mass murderer? No, I’m a soldier

As televised explosions settle
Death reins from barrels of metal
Weapons of mass destruction!
Or just green Dollar seduction?

Ethics thinner than it’s printed ink
Too high up too feel the stink
Sleight puppeteers of the Feds
Watching toddlers torn to shreds

Misguided, laser death from the air
Televised apologies just can’t repair
Deadly foes in a nusery school?
Who the hell’ you trying to fool!

Master conspiracies of the FBI
Too many innocent people die
Sudden terrorists all over the skies
Official coffers filled by insane lies

“We will make them pay”
All guided by the lies I spray
Lets not beat around the Bush
International invasion to push

Bin Ladin; what a cover!
Black gold, my only lover
Sacrifice anyone for a barrel
Propaganda in democratic apparel

AGR
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Wry sexual predation

Posted by Nalayrag
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on Monday, 30 April 2007
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With the advice of my friend, “Townboy”, to “write about something that excites me” and from a recent debate about prostitution (supply and demand), the revelation that even though it may be far easier to get “leg over” from a pro, the experiences you’ll miss out on the traditional path far outweigh this “easier route”. So, as I draw from years of practice, understanding, familiarity, knowledge and skill within this field, I decided that this would be a good starting point to launch my “blogging” career, ...the same way I started my sexual encounters, by deciding to “jump in the deep end”. (Bad pun noted, but I choose to see it more as witticism).

As for unique sexual predation, let’s take the case study of Mr. Joe Blogger (myself) for instance. Many years ago, Mr. Blogger was, as were many others, a first timer, or a “virgin” if you will, in this field. After countless triumphant and successful episodes, and taking into account that he would not take the “age old” route for vendors offering this particular product, but instead, by using his incredible acumen and resolute integrity, preferably “gaining access” in the more traditional sense of flirting, encouraging, courting, dating, marrying, begging, tricking, etc. he, in my humble opinion, has accumulated enough experience to put pen to paper.

It all commences with the male’s almighty urge to go forth and multiply! (Little does he, in fact, realise that this term is not intended for procreation purposes, but merely as a monetary term, to do with bills and invoices. With all emphasis on multiply and monetary). Thus with this uncontrollable and irresponsible urge to procreate, he’ll organise with his hunting posse or fellow hunters to go out and party till the "wee hours". This ‘need’ is now scientifically and medically referred to as a condition called “Getsum-initus”. Consequently the typical conversation and comprehensive strategic planning which follows by a vast majority of males, usually goes something like this: “Hey dude, wassup? Wassapnin later?”… “Dunno, wanna get trashed an go getsum?”… “Cool man, pick you up at 8”. Note the prodigious and comprehensive thought process, careful planning and exhaustive research goes into a jaunt such as this.

Having arrived a the club/bar/party/gathering/braai and acquired the habitual beverage for that particular social persona, he’ll start to survey the produce on display, usually found lingering over a hemline hovering well above the knee and/or a voluminous cleavage yielded by a lacy Victoria’s Secret, consequently resulting in acute exophthalmia (ex·oph·thal·mus - n. abnormal protrusion of the eyeball resulting, for example, from an aneurysm). After consumption of copious amounts of afore mentioned beverage and stabilising of the said aneurysm, the male testosterone (C19H28O2) will kick in and Mr. Blogger will find himself bravely sauntering over to the “Chosen One”, divulging in the most eloquent and astute blunderings of “opening liners” at his inebriated disposal: “What’s a girl like you doing in a nice place like this?” or ”Can I buy you babe, a drink?” or one of any number of equally ineffable propositions, after which, he’ll, with a profusion of luck, get affirmation that the plan to “getsum” has a definite positive bearing. Thus begins the consumption of any organic compound, in sight, containing one or more hydroxyl groups bound to carbon atoms, more commonly know as alcohol, interrupted by sporadic bouts of reciprocated controlled epilepsy, more commonly identified as dancing and a cacophony of drunken quips and one-liners. The evening may end in the consensual paring of two mighty forces and perhaps bacon and eggs in the morning, followed by “hair ‘o the dog”. Hopefully this will subdue the pursuit for at least six to seven hours, until the behavioral contagion recommences.

In all honesty, though, this quest inevitably concludes with no "getsum" for me, an empty fanny pack (wallet) and an extremely bad headache, followed by “hair ‘o the dog”! It's also been discoverd that this condition continues throughout the life of all adult males, though it (the condition) may take on different forms in order to ultimately achieve the desired result. Often followed by “hair ‘o the dog”!

Thus concludes this predatory yarn and my abrupt ending as a first time blogger!


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