How to write the perfect post for your blog

Arrogant much?  Not at all, but it does prove my point.  Or my first tip of many:  Use a catchy title.

It’s the most important component of a perfect post.  A few words that has the potential of making a reader go “Oh my, this looks absolutely fabulous.  If I don’t read this, well darlings, I think my head will explode.”   Effectively turning them into a very camp follower.  Other reactions may include “WTF? Is this guy crazy or what?”, “No shit, this can’t be true!” or the more sophisticated reader might think “This individual has really put in a lot of effort in establishing a title that would capture my attention.  Let me read it.” Continue reading

How to take the perfect selfie

If you don’t know what a selfie is then there is no hope left for you in this world. So I’ll be jumping right in.

A good selfie requires that:

1. You need to be self-aware.  Or have a nice face.  Or at least, think you have a nice face.  Or most probably just be delusional, obnoxious, vain and a self righteous prick/bitch. (depending on your gender).

2. You need to own a smart phone, preferably one that can flip the screen around so that you can see how to pull the most idiotic expression you can come up with, before capturing it for everyone to laugh at.  And it needs to be a decent smart phone for nothing says: “I’m trying too hard” like a low resolution picture.  And remember if all else fails you can even use a mirror, but please be aware of what might be lurking in the background, for as with most mirrors, it will be captured in the reflection.  Oh and before I forget, remember to use a flash, for that might hide your face and protect you from serious ridicule.

3. You need to be on a social network.  Sorry, let me rephrase that, you need to be on every social network known to man, alien and other semi-intelligent life-forms.  Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus and what ever else may be out there at the moment.  It’s all those places where the people who lost the ability to connect in ridiculous ways, like talking for example, hang out.  You see you need to cast your selfie over the vast open spaces of the Internet, and in so doing you’re spreading happiness and joy, for everyone needs something to make them forget their troubles and break out in hysterics.  Besides you’re also providing a service to parents like me, who now have an indexed album of examples, of people whom my kids are not allowed to bring home.  Ever.

4. You need to be able to pout.  Like when your eating a lemon after being stung by a bee on your lower lip. No scrap that, on both lips.  Think Extreme pouting.  Or just visit any mediocre celebrity’s Instagram page for a sample.  You might as well wear a shirt that says “I’m cheap” when you don’t commit and give a mediocre, half-assed pout.  Technically, pouting your lips is body language for I’m a whore, and I’ll do anything for I’m desperate and alone, but that’s just my interpretation.

5. If you don’t have that much of a face, and you know it, well first off, kudos’ to you! But please don’t let that stop you, just show some cleavage.  Your rack will distract all attention from the ugly features of your face, so no one will even notice. Especially if you show some real inventive ways of showing off the twins i.e covered in hair or nothing.  For guys, same rule apply.  Show some pectoral muscles, and if you don’t have any…Well then…I don’t know.

6.  Have long arms, the longer they are the better.  The problem with a lot of selfies is that it’s either out of focus or it’s cropped showing one eye and some facial hair.  And then there’s the photos of men…  Take a moment and consider how much of your face will be in the shot.  If you can’t fit the whole thing, then revert to the mirror technique.  People don’t want to guess which idiot they are seeing, they want the full reveal.

7. And if you can’t do any of the above, well just take a picture of yourself doing something really amazing, because we can all do with a little inspiration.


I’m done.


I’m not.

I just find the whole concept ridiculous.  It makes absulotely no sense whatsoever.  Why would you willingly want to come across like a village idiot?  Since when did being stupid became cool?  Most people don’t look good in a normal photo, so why do people think having a distorted version of yourself doing the most arbitrary things, would look any better?

If you want to post a photo of yourself, get someone to take the fucking photo for you, at a decent angle, with some consideration for composure and lighting.  Then crop and edit.  It’s that simple.  Try it.

How to be a Perfect Father.

The wife is going away for one evening.  I’m staying home with the kids.  The grandparents refused to babysit.  My friends just laugh at me.

The closest pic I got for a perfect dad. Thanks

The closest pic I got for a perfect dad.

Realising that this a reality my wife has to face often when I’m gallivanting across oceans on business, it’s an undisputed fact that it’s my turn.   It’s my turn to run around like a crazed maniac on crack, in order to supply food, get the homework done,  drill them through various evening activities and tuck them in with a prayer after it all.   Not to mention attempting to administer the chaos of tomorrow morning when I will have to feed them again (what’s up with that?), pack their lunches, make sure they brushed and cleaned and clothed and all this aiming to be on time for school.

I’m sweating just writing this, by the way.

So for all the things that father’s do, expecting us to fulfil a dual role, implies perfection.  No pressure.  I am intelligent enough to understand that single parenting involves a lot more than tickle matches with Princess and watching fail video’s on Youtube with Son.  (And I know there are thousands of people doing this daily, and to those I bow down in respect.)

But getting down to achieving perfection as a dad.

1. Grow a pair.  And with that I mean boobs.  A great writer I follow enthusiastically, has implied that the wisdom of parental instinct resides in boobs.  Check it out.  Here.  You will never be the same again, because every word he says is true.

2. Learn how to multitask, which as we all know, is a skill that is impossible for the masculine brain to acquire.  One has to be able to prepare dinner, pack the dishwasher, listen to Princess rant about the little bitch at school, and get Son to turn the volume down on the TV set, all at the same time.  Without losing it.

3. Pray for the patience of Mother Theresa.  And they say patience is a virtue, and I’m no nun.

4. Teleport.  Which basically supports the skill mentioned in number 2, but this one implies that you would need the ability to be at two places at the same time.  And that fact is only dependant on the amount of kids you allowed yourself to conceive.  I fortunately had the wisdom of restraining my urges for spreading my seed after we got our pigeon pair.

5. Shut down all brain function that is specifically relating to your work day, once you walk into the house.  Because then it all has to be about the kids and the family.  You need to spend time with them, offering your FULL attention and focus.  It’s about connecting, with sincerity.  Listening, communicating.  (Don’t I sound like a woman already?)

6. Make them laugh, at least once a day.  Ok, this one I might have a handle on.

7. Fly.  Because that would just be really cool for any dad to do.

The list is based on the qualities of the other parent who shares our household.  The pretty one.  The go-to-guy for advise on how to interact with the moodiness that sometimes oozes from Princess or the frustration that sometimes escape Son.  It’s the parent who actually raises my kids, as I’m just comic relief.  It’s their wonderful mother.  For there is none like her on this earth and I except that.  I love her for it.  And she’s all mine.  My precious…

So considering all my flaws as a parent, I’m probably as close to perfect as I can hope to be, for I’m married to her.

It’s her birthday and we will miss her immensely when she’s out for the evening.  Don’t worry I’m sure the kids will be fine.  (gulp)

I know, I know.  They better be.

How to have fun in an elevator.

You know those little cubicles going up and down transporting people in close proximity of one another.  Some people call it lifts, other elevators.  It’s a reality of placing people, who under normal circumstances, wouldn’t be seen dead with each other, in very close proximity for a few moments of their lives.

Ok, why is there no woman featured in this picture? Probably a corporate sign in Saudi.

And no one talks in those sullen seconds, not even married couples dare raise their voices, (noted in some relationships it’s a blessing) as if there some rule about not making a sound when ascending or descending dizzying heights.  It was even more evident whilst travelling in Dubai again, for the sheer height of the buildings make those moments a tad longer.

This made me think of ways to entertain whilst in those bizarre situations of modern human existence.  Just imagine, a few years from now, someone invents an elevator to the moon.. Are we still just going to shut up and look down at our feet for the full trip?  I say NO, so here is a few ways to break the ice.  It might also result in a few broken legs, but if you can run fast, I’m sure you’ll be fine.  Just check your medical cover as a precaution.

1. Fart.  Aim for the silent but violent type so that no-one expects you to be the culprit.  Then start focusing on the old lady in the corner.  Don’t worry there will always be an old lady in an elevator.  I think some of them live there.

2. When you get in, don’t turn around and look at the door.  It’s exactly where it’s always been, nothing changed.  The same crack still sits three inches from the floor, and the weird-looking dirt spot on the mirror still reminds you of an episode of Dexter.  This time just stare at the rest of the people.   See if you can catch someone’s eye.  If you have zombie genes and can refrain from blinking, all the more entertaining.

3. When you get into the elevator, continue with your fictitious phone call with the hired killer, finalising the hit on your mother-in-law.  It works a lot better in a foreign city where no one knows how much you actually love the old lady.  Not to be confused with the old lady referenced in point 1.

4. Once you’re in, lean seductively against the wall.  Release your best pervert imitation by licking your lips, rubbing your nipple, and the other crazy un-sexy stuff these people do.  But aim all of your energy to the guy on your left.  This is where speed and hoping the guy you picked is not a cage fighter will probably save your life.

5. Get in and repeat number 4, but this time look in the mirror whilst doing it.  Love yourself, for if you don’t who else will?

6. Look real nervous, migrate to the back and start rambling random shit about being stuck in this damn thing for seven hours the day before and your knee operation doesn’t allow you to use the stairs.  Then escalate your ramblings to poor maintenance, lack of safety standards, budgets cuts and profit maximization.  You’ll probably have to wait until everyone has exited before getting a chance to leave as well,

7. Push all the buttons of the lift as you get in.  It might be wise not to get into the lift as well once you’ve done it, but here speed will play another important role.  If you can’t and you have to travel with some very annoyed people, take out your ventriloquist doll you were hiding in your pants.  Oh, you don’t have one? Odd…  Moving on.

8.  Push floor 32 (assuming your entering a building with more than 32 floors) and when the doors open just stand right in front of the opened doors and don’t move.  Once the doors close, press 32 again.

9. Get in, sit down and start chanting an ancient native Indian song. If you don’t know one, knowing I might be dealing with amateurs, just make funny noises.  The effect will be the same.

10.  Start talking to your imaginary friend, the 12-year old Boxing Kangaroo named Spot.  Yes, you can talk about bed wetting if you really want too.

All this will be greatly enhanced if you can do it whilst dressed in a suit or other formal looking attire.  So go out there, find a lift and have fun.  To use the words of the Joker, not that we’re in any way connected: “Why so Serious?”  Yes start with that…

How to release my beast.


Like to thank my mother-in-law for her passport photo as she posted this on

There are two facts relating to the content of this post.  One – the title is misleading, and two – it’s the seventh version of it, prior to me clicking the blue publish button.  I was forced to submit the content through a frustration filter in order to eliminate heaps of profanity and thus end up with a fit-for-this-blog edition.  If I didn’t do this, my reputation as an upstanding citizen, with parental responsibilities might have been ruined forever.  Ok, I am dreaming about being an upstanding citizen but at least I have a dream…

Getting back to fact number one, misleading title.  When I use the word misleading I don’t imply wrong or deceitful, just interpretation. Releasing the beast might tweak illusions of grandeur as it refers to the beast that gives us strength in moments of desperation to achieve greatness.  This is not about that beast. The beast I am referring to is the horned red skinned one, with the forked tail and blazing eyes.

In reality ever human have moments where life doesn’t just crack your skin; it burst open releasing a temper demon that jumps out with a loud: “Here’s Johnny!”

This is my how to guide on what to do when you want to see my beast released.  It’s 100% guaranteed as witnesses by several people, including colleagues, friends and the wife.  What can I say, some things piss me off.

I will keep this version fairly simple, like a Release-the-beast-for-dummies.  I will also try to explain why these triggers work so effectively on me.  These triggers can be performed in the comfort of your home as it all relates to e-mail.  Unfortunately these manifestations might not be seen by the sender, unless it’s trigger #one.

Here follows 5 triggers on “HOW TO RELEASE MY BEAST.”

Trigger 1: Send me a mail from the office next door that does not have any document, spreadsheet, meeting schedule or other piece of useful information attach to it.  Only use a few cryptic words to make it sound important.

I just think that if you have something to say to me, it might be more appropriate to get of your fat ass and walk the four metres to my office.  It will be beneficial to your health.  Walking would allow those little red bloods cells to speed up and then you might even burn a calorie or two, which I’m sure the hinges of your fridge will appreciate.

Trigger 2: Send me a chain letter.  You know those mails that you forward to eleven friends to prevent yourself from walking home and getting maimed by a falling ostrich.

First of all, when you’re in the habit of forwarding chain letters, I’m surprised you still have friends.  It’s that annoying.  Life has taught me: There is no such thing as a free lunch.  Let’s put it in perspective, it actually means: There. is. no. such. thing. as. a free. lunch.  If you think sending a picture of a crying girl to 11 people will open the heavens and make buckets of cash fall from the sky, well you’re just fuckin stupid.  And the world doesn’t need to know that.

Trigger 3: Send me a PowerPoint presentation with pictures of cats.

A hate cats.  They’re cunning and deceitful creatures.  As kittens they’re all cute and playful. Then they grow up to be bossy, toplofty, pompous and shit. Just like a teenager.  As the owner you’re only good enough to feed them, if they allow it.  Do this and I will go all chain letter and spam on your mailbox.

Trigger 4. Send me a reminder mail, forty seconds after the first mail. 

I have a life and my only purpose on earth is NOT to sit and wait for your message.  I am sorry that I don’t climax and drop everything when your name pops up in my inbox.  I am also sorry that your concept of a reasonable reply time is out of tune with mine.  And if you have the balls to enlarge the font of the mail and write the word “reminder” on the top, then well.  Screw you.  Delete sequence initiated.

Trigger 5: Send me a condescending mail with a smiley face.

We are not in kindergarten anymore.  Sarcasm is a science, a skill that I have worked on for many years to execute perfectly.  How dare you consider that adding a smiley face is enough to hide your initial intention?  Reading it gives me an uncontrollable urge to rearrange your face with a frying pan to resemble your chosen emoticon.

There it is.  Five easy ways to get my temper thermometer into crimson red by the click of a button.  Truth be told I am actually a real fun-loving, nice guy, but again that’s what they said about Dr Jeckyl.

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