You're Having a Woolly Scarf Mate!

Hey Tetley Tea-ers!

So it's Easter! Which means only 3 things:

1. Jesus did a really really REALLY cool thing. Big Up. We totes Love Him for his Amaze Awesomeness.

2. Lots of CHOCOLATE! Note to Man Friends , Dad the Lads, Brothers and Boyfs:  Girls need more chocolate then you boys. Yes we do. You see, we need to build up 'extra padding' to keep warm (and limit the moaning) through those totes freezing, toe-trembling, ears-breaking-off, nose-turning-blue nights. (Therefore feel free to (at any time) present your Sister/Daughter/Girlf/Lady friend with chocolate at will, at any time and do not question when it is demanded).
3. Time for Winter shopping! (yes I know its 28 degrees in Mossel Bay, but its Winter dammit!)

I am a Winter-Hater. Yes I am. I am, oh I am. I am a Summer-freak, a lover and indulger of all things that are warm, yellow, round and spits out rays of tanning-ness. Howevs.. I do like the Winter fashion (being British for all those many years, you gotta kinda master the art).

So I hit the shops for some retail therapy today with the Bee-Maker (Mom a.k.a Goddess of all things). After a mere 20 minutes, we managed to pick up a Winter bundle of awesomeness. I'm ready to rock and roll. I'm ready to kick Winters Ass so hard, it just may have second thoughts of visiting SA again. 

I'd like to think, that in my woolly getup, I look as cute as a button. Not to mention irresistible to all men (who the minute they see me will fall in love (and lust), want to pick me up and squeeze the 'Bee-jeezus' outta me (see what I did there?)).

There may also be the very small chance that perhaps my hat looks just a little like a Tea Cosy, and my scarf could definitely multi-task as a rather generous duvet... (does my neck look fat in this?) Ah well. If I look pants, then bugger that for a game of soldiers. I'm Warm So Screw It.

(Private Note to 'Hunky Man From Shop', if your reading this; there is plenty of room for 2 underneath my Tea Cosy).

Happy Easter my Bunnies!

Wills has changed his royal Relationship Status from 'engaged' to 'married'.

Since my career specialization is Online Marketing and this is a British Chick's blog, I thought this would be an appropriate link to post; Prince Willy and good ol' Kate's royal wedding being one of the hottest social media topics. Imagine the following scenario:


Important Priest Man: Do you, Prince Wills, take Catherine to be your lawfully wedding wife? Yes? Well quickly whip out your Blackberry then and get updating, cos everyone knows it ain't official till its on the Book of Face.


Like? Click here for the story.

Monday Mornings Suck.. but at least they're Cheap as Chips!

Good Monday morning!

Ok, not such a great Monday morning...  I have realized 3 things. Ok one fold:
This Monday morning, I have realised that bitches and bastards get rewarded in this life. However I have a question... In the end of it all, how does that get you first (or even business) class into Heaven?!

Second fold:
This past weekend I have realised that a douche couldn’t park properly and jaggedly-sliced my new car down the side. (My car has since retaliated and its battery committed suicide in an act of utter pissed off-ness) so thanks. Douche.

And third fold...
When I am drunk, I am not a liar. I tell the truth unexplainably, uncontrollably and without intention. That is... this is what I have always believed. Until Sat night (after being kicked in the teeth by 3 angry glasses of white wine; me and white wine = passionate love/hate relationship), I realised I do lie about one particular thing when drunk. What is that one thing? (I hear you question). How Drunk I Actually Am.

It usually goes something like this;

Me: but I loooove you!!!
Unfortunate-Friend-Who-is-Now-Designated-Driver: I know
Me: But I hate your shoes!
Unfortunate-Friend-Who-is-Now-Designated-Driver: really? 
Me: Yeh, and, and, and... Your new boyfriend is a bit of a Wally
Unfortunate-Friend-Who-is-Now-Designated-Driver: silence
Me: I’m DEEEEEEFINATELY not drunk.
Unfortunate-Friend-Who-is-Now-Designated-Driver: ok.

However Monday mornings are not all bad if you live in CT!

First fold (and take notes peeps – cos for today...);

• Spur: 2 for 1 burgers!
• Happy Hour at Arnolds between 430 and 630.
• Steak, chops, salad and mushroom sauce at Polana for only R50.
• 50% off sushi at Codfathers.
• R25 cocktails, R15 for draughts at Cafe Sofia.

Second fold.
These are the two top keywords that people typed into Google, and found this blog:

Classic.

Muslims Kick-Ass at Facebook

So.. apparently Indonesia has leapfrogged, high-tailed it, pegged it, legged it, Olympic'd it past the UK and settled in at the No 2 spot for most active Facebook users country in the Entire World. (Just under the US of A - naturally).

(Some Geeky-Nerdy-Googlized facts for ya'll; Indonesia contains 17,508 islands and is populated with 238+ million people).

(It also has the world's largest population of Muslims - I Wikipedia'd that). 

South Africa didn't even make it past Pakistan at number 30. I thought mine (coupled with Undercover-Blonde-Crazy Hair-Crazy Clothes-Crazy Boots-Boutique-Person's- you know who you are u minx!- combined daily useage of the book of face would jump South Africa right into No. 1 alone but whatevs. Stats are obviously bollocks). 

Facebook Stats April 2011

Facebook hey.. 'a stalkers dream come true'. 

Therefore maybe we Westerners should avoid Indonesia as a holiday destination? Just a thought. Pakistan seems to have less of a Stalking-Risk..

I'm a Slave for Her!

And.. She's back!

The Many Lives of Miss Britney Spears:

Oh, how I 'heart' the jacket slash 'Slave for You' vibe slash new hot bod.
Oh! How I need to revert back to 'au natural' again and go back blonde..

Its Britney biiiiitch

Survivor Story

Good Tequila Tuesday Tetley-Tea-ers!

So, if you know me - you will know I survived this Monster virus-thingy called Guillain Barre Syndrome. For those who don't know, it basically paralyzed me for yonks and landed me in an Intensive Care Unit on a life support machine (prime position by the window by the way - you only get that if you are a Permanent Resident).

-----Bee kickin' some GBS ass

Also got a waaayyyy rad cool article written up in Cosmo UK mag! 5 mins of fame..

Whoop whoop! So please guys,  sign up to my friend's blog - GBS South Africa


P.S - we are totally going to organize a Rockin' Partaaay with a load of Very Cool UK bands coming over to Cape Town to raise money for the GBS Turtle.. I will keep you posted...


P.P. S and I am Totally getting one of these bad boys..

OMFG indeed.

Fooled by Google

Anyone committed an April Fools act this morning? (Just so you know if you do it after 12pm you are officially known as  a Moron apparently).

I 'book of faced'  that I had; 'had enough and was leaving SA for good. Expect me back in the UK next month, I will miss you all'. Had a few heart attack phone calls (mainly by my mother admittedly), and one from a BFF who nonchalantly asked if I was planning on shipping my car.. and maybe she could look after my cat (and the car).

Google have always been the king of April Fools. Check out the success stories of Google's 'new' beta feature... here! (Check out the success stories).

I couldn't resist (obviously..) so I applied..

(FYI: Description 1 was: Blimps kill over One Americans per year.)

and got this...

Gotta love those Googs Geeks! And thats not all.. clickety clickety click-click HERE to see the full extent of Google's cheeky monkey antics.

It's the weekend baaaaaaaby!

The Shortest Blog Ever

I got an email today (OK... not so much of a wow-factor, I do get lots of emails per day). But this one just said this:

:)

That is the first happy face I have seen all morning. True Story.

Roll on Friiiiiiiiiiday!

Cape Town - Consider Yourself Warned

Ek is baie jammer guys and gals! I have been extremely busy with working and Googling and all sorts of work-related shenanigans, that I have completely Let Down my no 1 fan, Random Citizen by not being an 'active' blogger of late.

Apologies Random Citizen.. I am back!

So tomorrow evening, me and a handful (OK much more than a handful.. a comfortable 5 cars-full..) group of girls in little black sexy dresses and high heels will be winging their way to Cafe Chic in Cape Town. They will be indulging in what is fondly known as chatter, chuckles, muchos vino and muchos good foodo.

My friend, 'Rannnnnndom-Old-Colleague-That-Turned-into-Besty-Friend-Ever-Vibe' and I do this once every so often. We organise a girls-only dinner, where everyone brings a friend (must have The Boobs - aka - be female). We are not allowed to sit next to our friends and therefore we meet a ton of new awesome chickitas to spend our evenings downing shots of wine with! Score.

Look out guys.. For a huge pile of scantily-clad Cape Townian hotties descending this Thursday Night. 

Cape Town - I did warn you. 

Bad Moon A'Risin...

Nothing can capture the Friday feelin' like this ultimate tune-age!

All Eyes on Me, In the Centre of the Ring.. (Just like a Circus)

So last night, I entered the Circus.

I was at the circus with a bunch of clowns. I then proceeded to hit the Dubliner in Long Street Cape Town to drink Tequila and watch Crimson play.. (with a bunch of clowns).

Now I have to tell you, I am an avid lover of the animal-species. Therefore I would be lying through my straight white teeth (thank you Mom for those years of pain and embarrassment of braces), if i said i was not worried. Cos I was. Totes immensely.

I felt that if AT ANY TIME, an animal had a SLIGHT look of distaste / unhappiness / boredom / pain / agony / disinterested / eff-you-all look on his furry little face, I would not be responsible for my actions. I was Fully Prepared to launch into that ring and inflict necessary, boundless, excruciating, agonising pain on the involved Clown/Circus freak.

You will be happy to know (or maybe you wouldn't be? I'm not familiar with your sexual preferences), to know that this type of Crazy, Insane British-Hooliganism Violence turned out Unnecessary (although I'm convinced those fire-breathing hotties may have benefited from a good spanking).

The Circus rocked, the animals were gleaming, fat and happy (although I still believe they should rather be running free, wild and careless - a bit like Charlie Sheen), and muchos tequila was consumed recklessly.

Happy Thursday my Tetley Tea-ers!

Its not Me, its Most Definately You

You know when it really is him? And you leave him, and then you think

Wow. What just happened?

I think we should be able to say it. No beating around the old bush, but 'Listen here dude, You suck'.

It can only help. Think of it like the ultimate assistance for Woman-kind everywhere. You are doing all women a favour by telling a dude if he is an ass-cravity (of course this depends if said Ass-Cravity realises errors in ways. Not likely but whatevs).

In fact, think of it like this, You are doing Man-kind a massive favour too! How can a guy get it right next time if noone tells him, that sleeping with your aunt's sister's mom's dog is just Not Acceptable? Men need our help girls. its a fact. In the wise words of the Great One - James Brown

'This is a Man's World
But it wouldn't mean nothing, without a woman
Man makes everything he can
But you see a woman makes a better man (yeh give it to me again Jameso!)

A woman makes a better man'

End Conclusion is this: boys are idiots. Men are awesome.

P.S. Today my girlies (and wonderful man-followers), I received a lovely request from an anonymous citizen asking if Tetley Tea girl would just get her ass into gear ('cos I havent blogged for ages...) What a delicious compliment! I will Never Let You Down Again Random Citizen. :)

Backstreet's Back

Today, I executed an embarrassing schoolgirl error*.

I was at desk, ears plugged. I was working, diligently, 'hardly' (!) and with intention. Suddenly, I was rudely interrupted by my super-hot-leggy-blonde-colleage Rocker Girl Emu.

Rocker Girl was Taking. The. Piss. Out. Of. Me. (diligently and hardly and with intention).

It was my own fault, as mentioned above*. I let myself down. I let the whole team down. (The team being; The Secret Society of Appearing Cool on the Outside but Having an Undercover Desire to Listen to Total Cheese club (a.k.a SSACOHUDLC)).

Now I'm not talking Bryan Adams cheese here people, I'm talking Full-On-Cheesy-Doritos-Mashed-with-Quavers style, BSB (for those of you less developed, aka. Backstreet Boys). Yep you heard me right. 

'If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a... bad boy'

I was unconsciously crooning at my desk and performing obligatory 'Backstreet Boy / N'Sync head movements', when Rocker Girl noticed. Cue hyena-hilarity chuckles.

This, my friends, is my schoolgirl error. Rocker Girl will not let me live this moment down. I just know it.

But today I have decided that I just don't give a scrote. In fact, 'Thats the Way I Like it'. Plus, its Friday. And anyway, I now have achieved my 13 year old Bee ambition - I can now Rap all the words to 'Get Down'. Perhaps I should get a life and listen to some dub-step.. But, I can't get a life, if my heart isn't in it..

Ever had one of THESE days?

I'm not having one of those days. I just wanted to post this video. Well. Funny.

I am, in fact, not necessarily having a great day either. I just feel happy. Sparkly, I'm-grateful-to-be alive, please don't FML kinda vibe. And I haven't even taken an anti-depressant. Or drank tequila (yet), or made the sex with Jake Gyllenhaal (yet).

Happy Wednesday lovely people! 2 days til the weekend shenanigans can begin..

P.s I have just moved house. If anyone has any great ideas for a Bumble Bee themed bedroom, or is a dab hand with a paint brush? (We'd make a great team, I am a great observer and Tetley tea-maker). Please let me know sharpish.

Crazee Masqued People = Good Vibrations

This weekend Rocked. My. World.  Trancey, dusty fairytale shenanigans and stomping fun to some insane bass lines = The 5th Annual Masqued Ball 
I 'heart' Cape Town outdoor trance parties. So Much. Like, so much I would marry them (i.e. Choice of husband, dog or trance party? Prefably all three but imma go with the latter).

   

Dust-stompin' fun

• 40 degrees of heat = a Bee so burnt she could be the tourist-mascot for England.
• Soul = healed. Body = broken!

If you were there, you know. If you weren't, well there's no other way to say it, you may possibly be a loser.You may have to go for Loser Counselling. I'm just saying.

Two downfalls though... 

1. Party Poopers - What the eff were the coppers doing there? Everyone knows parties are for cool peeps only. If the police don't approve/like, don't go to the party! Simple. Who invited them anyway?

2. Our tent got ransacked! That is so Bang. Out. Of. Order. At least we didn't lose the most important thing.. (Friend Who Used to be Blonde cleverly disguised our vodka in a simple, inconspicuos-looking bottle). I reacted extremely calmly (and effectively) by furiously eating cheesy Doritos, while muttering to myself in a low but dangerous manner. I don't think they will try that again in a hurry.

But the best part of the weekend can only be shown in pictures. I mean, no other sight can explain just how you feel after a good party..

The Next Day: A classic shot of  a couple of randoms.. lekke slaap! 

Thanks for reading Troopers! See ya'll at Groovy..

Pay Day Came.. and With it, a Beer (Kipling)

Don't we all hate the last week before pay day?And dont we all LOVE the day of payday? All the possibilities lay before us.. (until the monthly bills come in and you realise you're still screwed). Ah. The sweet life of living in Africa..

(There is no happy medium in Africa)

So when I opened my fridge this morning and all that came out was a fly.. And when I started my car this morning and all that came out was a cough... And when I turned on my phone to bitch about said car and fridge situation to 'Mother on Crutches', all that came out was;

'You have insufficent funds to make this call. Please top up and try again later".

I'm not ashamed to admit it, I dropped down to my knees (after first arranging skirt as to keep lady-like persona) and thanked the Awesome Man Above for Payday.

Smell Me

A conversation with Beautiful Beaming Pregnant Friend got me thinking today.. People have vibes. 'Auras' if you will.

Now i'm not about to get all witch-crafty on your a**, but its true and we should all be more sensitive to these peep-odours. It was be so handy!

Imagined Scenario ensues...

Me Who Used to be Blonde: "Check out that hottie, loitering by the bar"
Friend Who Used to be Blonde:  (sniff sniff) "Nah, leave him. He smells like rotton cucumbers. His aura is all off"
Me Who Used to be Blonde: But perhaps its misleading? Perhaps he just forgot to shower?" (in hopeful, optimistic manner).
Friend Who Used to be Blonde: (more sniffing) "Dude he smells of disrespect, arrogance and insecurity. Leave him".
Me Who Used to be Blonde: Ok.

See how this works?

Instead, we women have become slaves to consumerism. Damn you Old Spice..

Amped. For. Age

3 years until I’m 30.

30!!

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m totally; Amped. For. Age (see previous blog post The Big 5-0). Plus you apparently get blessed with wisdom. Am Amped. For. Wisdom.

(Plus the Pant says age brings women Sexual Peak times. Rock On!)

But not so much on the wrinkles. I noticed this morning I have a wrink. ..An actual wrink!!! Under my eye. Now this COULD be because I had just woken from a slumber so deep I could have went to hell and back and not realised. And you know when you  sleep deep, you wake up and your face is all crinkly and wrinkly from pillow? Well, it could have been this. It most probably was this. In fact, it actually was this. However, I am a Leo and we lions are given to dramatics, and so for today, that intruding line is a wrinkle.

I.e. 

Anyway, two of my Very Best Friends are 30. And they are totally Awesome. So awesome in fact, that I cannot and will not imagine life without them. They Rock. They make me not scared of being 30.

It’s just, I remember my Mother In Crutches being in her 30’s when she had my little sister (who we shall call Hot Bean for anonymity).  Her 3^rd child.

My biological clock is ticking at an Incredibly Slooooow Pace. Panic Button-QUICK! Better make the most of these Awesome Freedom Years I still have left! That, and the fact I need to find a husband first (and a good one- I have always wanted a child, but not as a husband).

Ah, 3 (plus) more yrs of Tequila Madness here we come Girls! Bring It.

The Big 5-0

Don't famdamilies just Rock. Our. World?

The Cheetah Lodge Family

So, the weekend comprised of the following;

(NB: They are in NO particular order... In fact, most were very continuous - especially the vino).

Ingrediants:

• 1 50th Bday Party.
• 16 Brits in one place. 
• Wine. 
• Dancing.
• Crimson (totes magoats awesomest band at 'slapping the bass' ever).
• Family
• Mother on Crutches
• Babies (no, I have nothing to tell you - they aren't mine).
• Puppies (no, I have nothing to tell you - she isn't mine). 
• Tropical paradise. 
• All-You-Can-Eat buffet. 
• Sun. Sea. 

Oh and..

•  Swimming in Underpants at The Wrong Side of Midnight. In the rain. Drinking a castle. Freezing our butts off (in a good way).

Mom turning 50 rocked. It rocked way more than my 18th or 21st. So conclusion - grow old happily.

50 is the new Awesome.

Dog vs Man

New Love = Puppy Love

One day, a long time ago. When I was little and short (I'm still short), when I was immature (I'm still immature), when I was of single digit age (definitely not so anymore), I told my Mom;


'Mom. When I grow up I think I'm not going to have a husband. I think I'm going to have a dog instead.'


See, kids know stuff . 


Then you grow up and become loserish and forget all that stuff you already know.


So, if i am going to trade in Potential Husband in for a dog, which kind of dog? At the moment I'm contemplating between 'Captain Pugwash' (a pug) or Roy (a pekingese - i dont know why I would  have a pekingese called Roy.. but I have a Rhodesian Ridgeback called Nigel so.....seems reasonable).


After all.


Dogs are easier to house train.


(And if they turn out gay, your just excited. I can finally buy that pink sparkly diamante collar).

Nigel