On Monday morning a dear friend collapsed at work and was admitted to hospital, not being able to walk. That evening she was diagnosed with Guillain-Barré syndrome. GBS is a disorder in which the body’s immune system attacks the nervous system, leading to weakness in your extremities, spreading quickly, eventually resulting in paralyzes of your whole body.
As of this morning she still hasn’t gained full feeling of her lower legs and she has to rely on help to be able to move in her bed. She is still in bed and fighting her illness with a whole lot of support from a million people. I know she’ll pull through.
And to think she was still doing everyday mommy things at the beginning of the week.
Life can change instantaneously. Continue reading
I’ve got teenagers so I understand the need for them to join some of the latest trends. Like Pokemon Go. What else are they going to talk about? At least it’s not porn. Or cocaine. I am also able to follow a discussion as to why a kid would willingly walk around with a mobile phone and catch imaginary creatures named after Japanese demons. (If you believe everything you read on Facebook. For the record, I don’t.) I can even entertain the reality that you can raise them to battle one another. Eventually.
I did similar things when I was between the ages of eight and eleven. I used to collect comic books and run around with a towel around my neck, imagining I was some kind of superhero. I eventually stopped wearing the towel two years ago when I got myself a real cape. I never stopped loving comic books or wishing I was a superhero. Like Deadpool. But without the avocado-having-sex-with-an-older-uglier-avocado face. Continue reading
I was invited to a 21st birthday party a few weeks ago. It was for a friend’s son. A kid I’ve known for most of his life. What do you buy for a young man who’s turning 21? I know it’s kind of a big deal. I also thought a six-pack of beer or a bottle of Whisky might sent the wrong message. To his parents. So instead of buying a brass coated, plastic key made in China, I opted for a framed list of 21 lessons I’ve learned during my life on this little blue ball.
And what kind of person would I be if I didn’t share those lessons with all of you? Here goes. Continue reading
We love you guys!
The big C. Cancer. Arguably the most dreadful and scariest word in the English language. What am I saying, most probably in any language, even if it doesn’t start with a “C”.
A word that casts a big shadow. A word that takes your mind to dark places, a word that frightens the soul and holds your heart in a cold, icy grip. It’s a confrontation with your own mortality. Like being tied to a chair and having to play chess with the grim reaper.
And it never happens to you…nor to your family…or even to one of your closest friends. It’s always other people. Until the moment when it does… Continue reading
Everyone has a bad day. I know, I might even be able to fill a book with them. Oh wait, I’m already doing it here.
But there are normal bad days and then there are days when you stroll into the kitchen, half asleep and casually open the fridge and the whole damn door disconnects from its hinges and ends up on the floor. Those are the days when you know it’s better to get back in bed and hide from the world. Karma is finally coming for you in all her biaatchness for kicking kittens in a past life. The rest of your day is going to be like sitting in a sauna in the steam of hell. With your fat uncle. Continue reading
My friend is forty-two. My friend became a first time Dad on 21 November 2015. He is not freaking out. I think.
There is a general consensus that becoming a father is somewhat life changing, if only for the newly acquired skill of not puking whilst changing a dirty diaper. Those of us who became fathers at a younger age were too cocky/oblivious/ignorant/arrogant or plain stupid to fully appreciate the ginormous responsibility we got ourselves into. At that age men are invincible and they feel they can do anything. Young fathers roll with the punches and shoot from the hip. Much like we did causing us to become fathers in the first place. Continue reading
We have this thing. With “we” I mean my friends and I. Some people prefer to do their thing in the comfort and privacy of their own home. Some even do it in the bedroom. We’ve found the best way to add spice to our thing, is to do it in the company of each other. It creates more atmosphere, ups the excitement level and it’s always a thrill seeing the expressions of my friends when our thing turns out better than we expected.
If the moment is truly epic, then there’s loud, roaring cheers and high-fives all around. And why not, most things are simply better when you do it with friends. Except off course falling out of a window. That would be bad with or without friends. Especially if the window is like really high and you end up falling on concrete and… sorry. That’s not our thing. Our “thing” is the LOVE of rugby. Oops. I meant to say wives, the fact that we love our wives. And to watch rugby. Continue reading
One of my dearest friends lost her father two weeks ago and my sympathetic heart is nothing compared to the turmoil and sadness they have to live with in the aftermath of this tragedy. It’s agonizing to see them having to deal with the fact that there is a big gaping hole in their hearts. My friends are facing a future without a father, their kids lost a grandfather and their soft-spoken mother lost the love of her life.
Sitting in the memorial service, fighting back the sadness whilst facing my own mortality, thoughts drifted to both my fathers, who I am blessed to still have in my life. (Biological and in-lawed) During the service a testimony was given of a great man who loved nature, his dogs and knew how to crack a joke. A generous man who left a mark on everyone he met, especially his children. Who taught them many things, just like every other father does every day of his life. Teaching lessons to their children without even realizing that they are. Continue reading
Please note, I actually spend quite some time editing my posts, if merely out of respect for the people who bother reading it. So there is not a typing error in the title. It is an actual word…
The audacity…I look nothing like this!
A survey was done by News24 and it revealed South African men to be spornosexual. Which sounds like the mating ritual of some kind of mushroom. Maybe it’s just me, but there is something fundamentally wrong with society when we have to create words in order to define male and female. I understand the need for words like heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual or even a-sexual (which mean you’re not getting any), but why do we also have words like metrosexual and spornosexual to describe men? Aren’t woman confusing us enough as it is? Continue reading
I spend easter with great friends, mountaineering in a car, which is what South Africans call a 4×4 drive. This is basically attempting to channel your expensive SUV through crevises, over rocks and around boulders, where pedestrians have difficulty walking. To make it more fun, we cram the whole family, and then some in a car and off we go.
The men laughing, the woman screeching and the kids shaking uncontrollably makes everything more interesting.
But seriously, it is a lot of fun. Continue reading