Is this a sign?

Here is a wall.

Please wait whilst I bang my head against it.

.... .... .....


It's been S-U-C-H a bad day.

My business website and emails have stopped. What comes up when trying to look at the website is some stupid hong kong, wing-wang bullshit business directory.

I can't begin to explain to you the fuck'en frustration I have dealt with today. My hosting company are beyond useless. I don't have a website = I loose business, I loose money. (That wall looks so tempting now)

I have always wanted to do my own business but I am getting so many signs that are either trying to test me to make sure that this is what I actually want to do; or they are trying to tell me that this was the wrong choice.

Sign 1:

Absolute difficulty in trying to legalise my business and register it.

Sign 2:

Reduction in job requests

Sign 3:

Website and emails are fucked

*This deserves three head hits against the wall*

It's like when a women gets engaged and the universe tests her if this is what she wants to do, or the signs are saying: "you shouldn't get married!"

Sign 1 for the wife-to-be:

Gaining weight so that the dress she bought 2 months ago, no longer fits and she resembles the muffin man

Sign 2 for the wife-to-be:

Loosing her ring

Sign 3 for the wife-to-be:

The priest cancels the service and can no longer marry them at the wedding, due to foot and mouth disease

I just keep questioning why the universe is making this whole business thing so hard for me.

Maybe I'll look on the bright side and think that after all this hard work, frustration and tears, it'll all be worth it and I'll reap my rewards.

After all, looking at the bright side is far better than banging your head against the wall.

Foie Gras

I watched Carte Blanche (a news program) the other night, where they showed the cruelty to animals which we eat.

I almost cotched in my pants. I almost cried a blue river.

Force-feeding geese; cutting off tiny chicks' beaks; putting cows in tiny cages where they sit in there own shit and aren't able to move.

I am affected. Deeply.

I have begun researching this further, even though everytime I was watch a video about this stuff it's like putting a needle in my eye - truly painful. It's hit my heart and my gut at the speed of 500km car driving.

See video below.



Foie gras (pronounced /fwɑːˈɡrɑː/ in English; French for "fat liver") is a food product made of the liver of a duck or goose that has been specially fattened. This fattening is typically achieved through gavage (force-feeding) corn.

Well I hope you rich people enjoy eating your Foie gras after watching this. Stupid French fucks who created this 'delicacy'. Let's force feed you people, stick a massive pipe down your skinny throat and see how you feel.

Here's small chicken's beak being cut off. Isn't it pretty to watch?



The people in both videos should be shot. Karma will be coming your way!

I hope this blog post reaches the world. I hope someone reads this and passes the message on. I hope together we can stop this.

I am going to make an effort to stop this.

You know, I know this sounds really cynical but if the world ends on 2012 it'll be a great thing. Us humans are a disgrace. I am applaud to be a human being. Not only do we slaughter and destroy everything around us - but we also do it in the most cruelest ways. We should be ashamed.

I am going vegetarian.

At least the worst we can do to a brocolli is boil it.

I made PIE!

I made pie.

Well, technically speaking ... I made quiche.

Not just any quiche. Quiche will a home-made short crust pastry.

Now I am not a kitchen novice, I know how to cook and I do it well. But pastry is not one of my forte's.

...until today.

I have always wanted to be a pastry chef, and today MUST be the start of it.

No measuring, just the use of my (missing until now) pastry making skills.

Behold the perfect pastry below.

It's like I have given birth, I am so proud.



But wait it gets better... see below.



Perfecto! Born-up-a-tree

Filled with onions, green peppers, ham, egg/mustard mixture and tomato it cooked perfectly. The pastry was perfection, and a true sign of a good pastry is that is doesn't stick. It slipped right out of the dish with ease.



Here is a slice with some chutney (made by one of the farmers here in Hartbeespoort dam)

*PS: Besides getting splattered with hot tomato juice in my face when cutting the quiche into slices, this was a culinary success! Most chefs get finger cuts to show that they cook, yet Stacey gets blisters on her eyes.

Salami Wurst

I just had a cheese, tomato and salami sandwich. Delish...

I now have a 'salami smile' on my face.

I love Salami wurst.

Who knew that pigs ears and feet, cow testicles and scrotum, pig cheeks and eye balls and other discarded off-cut meats mashed into a pulp could taste so good!

I love Salami so much that I am actually dedicating this blog post to the meat.

One day I'll try Salami and a block of chocolate, preferably Top-Deck, together (I sound like a pregnant female with unusual cravings like chewing on a brick or eating sawdust and Bovril together)

I think it's the liquid that oozes from the cow's scrotum, in the wurst, that makes it taste so good.

Now I don't know the origins of Salami, but I'll just say it's from Germany.

'Dis goed wurst, Danke Germans'

Pee on a Pad

I worked at an expo promoting nappies.

Pouring 500ml of water into the nappies, and seeing how well they absorbed, I had a brain wave.

You know when you think of a brilliant idea and you need to patent it - well Miss Stacey Rowan has come up "Pee on a Pad". Now, when they come to market eventually, I'll look back at this post and think - "hey, I thought of that donkey's years ago." (This idea would have made me mull-ions)

Now be open-minded here - there is no room for here for clean-freak, prissy people.

We have all had those times when we are absolutely bursting for the loo and stuck in traffic. Although I have never peed in my pants I know of those who have.

Men can use bottles or empty cans in the car, but us females have to sit there cringing and squinching our legs together - never mind almost having an accident as we are too concerned with not wetting ourselves. Rest assured ladies, we now have nappies. (One day, they develop a pad specifically for this function, but for now we have resort to nappies.)

I am not saying walking around wearing nappies, all I am saying is that when the loo is calling and there's no where to go, take out a nappy...put it in your trousers and feel the ease of your bladder deposing of urine that's been sitting there for the passed 45 minutes since you left home.

It's safer as you don't have to stop your car in the middle of no where, and squat in the bush whilst someone either kidnaps you or hijacks your car. Diseases and hepatitis B from unhygienic, filthy, loos can now be a thing of the past. The urine in the nappy turns into gel and locks in, so there won't be any excuse for wetting the car seat or your newly bought R1000.00 pair of jeans. Then you can just put it into a plastic bag (or nappy sack if you are willing to buy one) and then dispose of it when you arrive, dry, at your destination.

As for a number 2, that's a NO, NO. (Haven't thought of a solution for this problem)

But for urine, it's great.

With my 11 - 25kg nappies (I have 3 packets)in my car, I'm good to go. (I no longer have to worry about needing the loo on long trips... it's actually a relief, the burden has lifted.)

I'll be sure to blog about the first time I use my 'Pee on a pad.'