A fanboy? Me? No…

Princess called me a fanboy. At forty-two?  Me, a father of two teenagers?  That’s absolutely preposterous!

So what if I have Deadpool as wallpaper on my laptop and mobile phone? The movie was frigging awesome.

So what if I own a collection of marvel lead figurines? It’s lead and it’s the full collection. I don’t do stuff half-assed.


Mine is even bigger.

Continue reading

A head story

Every once in a while I enter a weekly, one-word prompt competition hosted by Ad Hoc Fiction. You have to use their prompt word in a story of a 150 words.  Or less.  People who know me will understand how ridiculously difficult this is for me.  What can I say? I enjoy talking. A lot.

The site selects a few of the entries and post them for readers to vote for their favorite.  I haven’t won yet.  Besides, winning is not everything and it’s not the reason I enter.  (At least that is what I tell myself every week when they post the winning story.)  The last prompt was “press” and my story is actually in contention this week. I’m surprised too.  It’s one of many, so it’s not like I’m going to sell the rights to a film studio or anything.

But just imagine if there was enough people who liked it…


A head story

They found her in a small room filled with the stench of disinfectant and sex.

Her naked corpse provocatively draped over the bed in a pool of blood that leaked from the gaping hole in her throat. Her left hand was awkwardly placed between her wide spread legs.  A macabre portrait of lust.  A short dress, crop-top and GAP underwear were neatly folded on the floor.  She was still wearing stiletto’s.  She was missing a ring finger.

The head was placed on the make-shift dressing table cropped against the broken lampshade.  Glazed, brown eyes frozen in a final expression of terror, staring at the dead girl.  The ruffled grey hair was caked with blood and goo.

The cop shook his head.  The press was going to have a field day. And not just because of another dead prostitute but because the head didn’t belonged to her.

It belonged to the mayor.


Welcome to my dark side.

I write, direct and fix braces.

We are in the midst of Eisteddfod season.  It’s like Shark week on Discovery.  A feeding frenzy, if only for all the parents who are running around like headless chickens trying to prepare their little ones for numerous performances in front of the judges. Our regional Eisteddfod happens every two years and provides a platform for kids to take to the stage in a wide array of performing and other art forms.  They receive feedback from people who is nothing like Simon Cowell and walk away feeling like they’ve accomplished something.  Unless off course they really suck…

Princess is one of those kids who wants to do everything as long as it happens in front of an audience. Her dream is to become an actress, one that I support wholeheartedly, as she’s been our little drama queen since birth.

Princess is halfway through her list of entries for this year’s Eisteddfod. Continue reading

Happy Birthday Dude.

I know, I’m referring to myself in the third person, which by all accounts would be enough evidence for my wife to have me committed.  She’s always maintained that I look rather dashing in white.   But I’m doing it because I’m cool, I’m special and I love everybody.  And it’s all because of this little notification…with a logo and everything…

You registered on WordPress.com 1 year ago!

Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging!

So maybe I’m not that special.  Maybe I don’t love everybody, but I know I love at least 331 more people than I did one year ago.  (Has it been one year already?)  Wow, that is the proof I needed to understand that time does indeed fly when you’re having fun.  Most of those 331 people will understand that starting this blog didn’t just change my life, it revamped my soul.  It was an extreme makeover of the mind, and I’ve been screaming “Move that bus” daily.  The fascinating thing is that I’ve been seeing the rooms of my presumed creativity being revealed in the most amazing ways.

We write because we like too.  Sorry, that was blatantly offensive.  We write because we love too.  And I write not expecting anyone to really read the stuff that flood Tsunami-like onto the screen.  I never anticipated the response I received am receiving from the community on this site.  It’s been to say the least, mind-blowing.  Like 40 tons being dropped on the world largest whoopee-cushion.

I am semi-intelligent enough to understand that I’m just another one out of a million other smucks  (and I use this as an endearing term) who’s writing away on a daily/weekly/ad hoc basis, praying for Freshly Pressed, sending our cautionary, edited, entertaining, serious, offensive, inspirational, humorous, opinionated, deep, light-hearted, poetic, creative posts and pics blindly into nothingness.  To only realise later that it’s not an empty abyss, but a treasure chest of the most astonishing writers and photographers.

I would like to thank WordPress for being my platform, my keyboard for being the microphone, and every single person standing in the crowd below, giving me the confidence, not just to keep going on, but cheering me on to become a better writer.

And last but not least.  Thanks to Son and Princess for being my joy and inspiration, who supply my creative steroids in bucket loads to ensure I keep on running.  And then to my wife, my love, my life, my everything….  Thanks for letting me have those countless hours in front of the computer screen, where I was typing away frantically.  Thanks for providing the funny and in so doing; making our home the best place on earth.

Here’s to another year!

The Good, the Bad and the OMG is this really happening…

Ok, so it is the last day of this year.  Only a few hours left of the four digits 2-0-1-3.  By the time this is posted, the year might even have completed the exercise of shoving its proverbial head between its proverbial legs and kissed its proverbial ass goodbye; in some countries East of me.

It’s been, well, how can I put it, thankfully over.  No, it was definitely not the worst year of my life, but I’m just reminiscing about the last 365 days and hoping that 2014 will be a year that kick ass. (To much butt references you think?)  Let’s consider a few of the high, low and other random events that occurred in the life of Ah Dad…

I gave birth.  It was easier than I thought.  There was no pain, for that only came later.  I merely channeled the thoughts through my fingers and onto a screen.  Wanted to preserve some of my insanity for my seed.  But it turned into an obsession.  It became much more than  a website where brilliant people meet.  It defined me.  And people liked me.  And some even followed me.  Yes dear bloggers, the bestest thing of 2013 was the creation of this little space on the net.

Other great things include the fact that none of us got killed or sick or maimed in some atrocious way.  All members of the family are accounted for and everyone is alive, healthy and happy, or at least fake it pretty well.  I have great friends so that is pretty awesome.  Oh yes and I started exercising again.  If there is anyone who needs a cover model for a magazine called: “Forty and semi-flabby”, please call me.

The bad, well I try not to focus on this too much, but it does happen to all of us.  We lost three fathers in our community which is REALLY sad.  Every time I pass their houses I feel a emptiness that is sorta weird as we were not even great friends.  Maybe the fatherhood club is a default setting amongst society, uniting all men who raise children.

Work was pretty shit this year, as not all of us can become full time writers.  And this is why I want to throw the lady who wrote “50 Shades of Grey” with a toaster.   I need to get up, put on decent clothes and drive to an office sucking up to customers all across the globe and she can write shit and make millions.  Life is so unfair.  Besides, the Global Economy is still causing prices to plummet and I had to beg and plea more than usual for my sales volumes to stay strong.  It was tough and I had to tighten the screws on the team, up to the point where one of the guys couldn’t take anymore and he resigned.  But my begging and pleading seems to have worked for we made our sales target, everyone worked hard and I consider myself an Oscar nominee in Rambling Bull Shit.

Now as far as the “OMG is this really happening…”

Son finished primary school and is now forced to move on to High school in early January 2013.  Don’t get me wrong, he is very excited, and I couldn’t persuade the school to keep him back for another year.  How did that happen?  Yesterday I was still wiping his nose and his …., fine I won’t write it.  Now he not only dresses himself, he trains me in working my smart phone, listens to rap and plays some kick-ass rugby.  And he’s going to HIGH SCHOOL!!  It’s not that surprising when one consider he has a father who is turning forty…

So to all the bloggers out there, if you’re like me and you’re stealing some time whilst waiting and preparing for the friends to arrive for our own little NYE bash, please remember to not drink and drive, and party on! Or not…

I pray that each one following or reading the awkwardness flooding your screen from this site, will have an amazing 2014.  And please keep on blogging, for I need inspiration and humor in my life!

I love you.  (Ok, maybe that’s the wine talking…)  Anyhow see you next year.

Death by Liebster award

It happened quickly, me dying of too much excitement when I realised I was nominated for another Liebster award.

John over at the Monkey Bellhop kills me with laughter every time I visit his site.  Now he will probably do it again for I have taken forever to write this acceptance post for the prestigious honour, which I’ve receive humbly.  Now where’s the trophee?  I need a flippen trophee.  Mom, they don’t want to give me a trophee.

I’m sorry John.  I know excuses don’t cut it, but begging forgiveness hopefully will.  Imagine a deranged man on his knees, tears streaming down his face, trying to find words of apology through constant sobs.  (While I’m actually sitting in a semi-comfi chair drinking a Merlot and typing very slowly with two fingers.) Isn’t writing awesome?

Anyhow. If you’ve been nominated for the Liebster Award and accept it, you need to follow a few rules.  (11 to be exact.  And what’s with 11?  It’s 11 this and 11 that)

  1. Write a blog post about the Liebster Award. check
  2. Thank the person that nominated you. check, and here’s hoping he’ll forgive me, sob, sob.
  3. Post a link to their blog on your blog. check
  4. Display the award on your blog and include it in your post and/or display it using a widget. check, here.
  5. Answer the 11 questions about yourself provided by the person who nominated you. ok...check…scroll down.
  6. Give 11 random facts about yourself. check…scroll further down
  7. Nominate 5-11 blogs that you feel deserve the award, who have less than 1000 followers. check…this is like way at the bottom
  8. Create a new list of questions for the nominated bloggers to answer. shit, this is where China is approximately
  9. List the rules in your post. check
  10. Inform the bloggers you’ve nominated them for the Liebster Award. Remember to give them a link to your post so that they can learn about it (they might not have ever heard of it!). busy.

With some wine, a keyboard and a little bit of brainpower I’m ready to run the gauntlet of 11 questions:

  • If you were alone on a desert island and could get out of your wireless phone contract without any penalties, which carrier would you pick?

Apple.  When faced with a technology problem and you are dealing with an American, the answer should always be Apple.

  • What is more frightening?  Waking up and finding a spider on your pillow or waking up and finding you are married to Larry King?

Well that question is a bit of a conundrum for Larry King already resembles a kind of spider, Daddy long legs.  Do you see the resemblance?

  • If you could be in two places at once where would you be? (please don’t answer two places at once)

Shit.  Normally when I’m doing arbitrary house chores, like cleaning the pool, I imagine doing it shirtless for Kate Beckinsale.  (I also imagine that I look good shirtless) and then I imagine she really likes getting close and personal with her pool cleaner.  That’s three places at once, and I’m standing next to the pool with a stupid grin on my face.

  • If you could have dinner with anyone living or dead who would it be?

Obvious answer.  Kate Beckinsale.  And my wife.  Ah dad, you’re stuck.  Choices, choices.

  • If you could have dinner with anyone living or dead what would you order?

Italian food.  Or human brains, if I was a zombie, you know living dead.  But I’m not.  Just saying.

  • Do you think I dress appropriately for my age?

Obviously.  One has to be carefree, uninhibited and not ashamed to run around in your birthday suit.  Besides I should have warned you about the kids before you came over the last time.  It’s my fault.  By the way, they’re still laughing…

  • What was the scariest moment of your life?

Once there was this guy who came over to our house, totally naked and drunk out of his mind.  He banged on the door and Princess opened eagerly, expecting Santa Clause.  Well, she obviously got a little more than she expected and screamed like a banshee on Idols.  You know the rest of the story.

  • Are you a dog person or a cat person? (and by that I am referring to pet preference not genetics)

I hate cats, absolutely despise them.  I cannot stand the critters with their condescending looks and pompous attitudes.  I’m not a dog person.

  • Do you think the Chicago Cubs will win the World Series in your lifetime and if not your lifetime, whose lifetime?

As a South African it took me hours to understand the question.  I spend hours on Google, Wikipedia and some other website that’s really disgusting.  Do you know what people can do with Ping-Pong balls?  Anyhow, the answer is blue.

  • Robert Frost advised us to “take the road less traveled.”  Do you agree and if so, is it because the police are looking for you?

No off course not.  It’s just that this specific road takes me past the pub on the way home.

  • If you caught a fish who granted you three wishes if you let it go, but at that very moment,  a starving leprechaun appeared and told you he would give you a pot of unlimited gold for the fish, which appliance in your house could you not possibly live without?


Now I have to state eleven facts about myself.

  1. I’m still dumbfounded that there are new people every day who press the follow me tag on my blog.
  2. I’m annoyed that it took me almost 40 years to discover how much I enjoy writing.
  3. My kids are a constant source of laughter for me.  And that’s probably why I love them so much.  Saves on anti-depressants.
  4. I absolutely adore the amazing woman who shares my life.  I’m totally infatuated with her.  If we weren’t married, she would had to get a restraining order, for I would be considered a stalker.
  5. Would have killed to have a creative job.  So if there’s any editors out there, who has someone who bugs the shit out of them… I said I will kill for a creative job.
  6. I’m aiming to have another six-pack within the next four weeks.  The bottle store was out of stock.
  7. I love the Sharks Rugby team.  Confused?  Well serves you right.  Who the hell is the Chicago Cubs?
  8. Took art classes once.  Poor woman resigned after that six weeks.
  9. Even after nine years it still sucks to get up at five in the morning to train.
  10. Didn’t realise 11 facts about myself would put so much strain on my brain.
  11. Collect Asterix novels, Superhero lead figurines and keep a register of every movie I have ever seen.  I need help, I know.

Then you have to nominate a few blogs worthy of this special recognition.  And just to be fair, I will not be as patient as John in the replies.  Get on it.  Or to quote Britney: Work Bitch!  The fortunate people who doesn’t have to come up with an idea for their next blog is:

Ned Hickson over @ Ned’s Blog, who doesn’t lack any imagination.  He’s like coffee, he kick starts my day.

Lester Beaver over @ Randomnessesities who gives unique and hilarious commentary on the human race from a beaver’s perspective off course.

BB Goodman over @ A story a day who comes up with the most amazing short stories. every. single. day.

Twisted Sifter over @ well Twisted Sifter who shortenes my day when I get stuck on his/her posts.

Dries de Wet over @ DeWetsWild for taking the most amazing pictures of our country, South Africa.

The jogging dad over @ thejoggingdad for making me happy to know I’m not totally insane.

Craig Strachan over @ Photopane who takes the kind of photo’s I would like to when I grow up.

Becky’s says things whom I might have nominated before but every post turns me into a giggling girl at a Bieber concert and

A Clown on fire, but watch out for this one, he’s hot.

And I know that some of these guys have more than 1000 followers, but why would I subject myself to silly rules and not reward greatness?  I’ll forgive those who accept it and do nothing, for this is hard work man!

The 11 questions I post to them would be:

  1. If you could receive the talent to win any award/price/medal in the world today, which award would you like to display on your mantel?
  2. If you knew space travel will be successful in 40 years from now, and you could get a special of buy one get one free on that shuttle.  Would you take the offer?
  3. Ted was a talking bear in a brilliant movie.  What toy did you have as a kid, that you would have liked to come to life?
  4. Thai, Indian or Mexican?
  5. Which country would you like to visit, assuming you have not been everywhere?
  6. What would you like to be remembered for?
  7. Favourite superhero movie?  Cause there’s not a bad one out there.
  8. What’s the name of the last album you bought?
  9. Favourite book? Author?
  10. Do you find it ridiculous to pay millions of dollars for a painting?
  11. Which decade in your opinion would be remembered as the greatest one in living memory?

Done.  Dusted.  Now if only I had the energy to press publish.  There.  “Your turn”, he says with a devilish grin.

Versatile blogger… Who, me?


Who knew?  Got the ping back and blinked twice in order to make sure it wasn’t a mistake.  Checked my diary immediately to ensure it’s not a delayed April fool’s joke.  It turned out not to be one, so I am hugely grateful to Miss Thanksamillion over @ mummyflyingsolo who nominated me for this Versatile blogger award.  My first one, and like we all know, first times are the best.  No not really.  Practise makes perfect.  Bottom line I am extremely flattered and now there is some work to do.  I have to list seven random things about myself.  Here goes:

I’m a man, living in South Africa, married to a beautiful wife, have two ama-zing kids, one gay french poodle, I write, sleep and eat.  In that order.  Oh shit that’s eight.  I hate it when I babble…

Only kidding!  As a token of my gratitude for this award, here are seven things few people know about me.

1. I always wanted to write, never had the guts to do it, but it was my brother-in-law who finally convinced me to start this year.  And thereby changing my daily existence.

2. I have more than 200 Marvel lead figurines in a collection that I started just before humans invented fire.

3. I have visited more than 30 different countries in the last seven years.  Some of them more than once.

4. I have a twitter account with an astonishing 14 12 followers.

5. I snore.  Sometimes.  Well technically only when I drink wine, ok, maybe when I drink too much wine.  Which occur sometimes.  Then I snore.

6. I am considered to be mentally challenged by some of my friends for waking up every morning @ 05h00 to go the gym.  I’m not, I was tested recently.

7. I don’t really like cats, because I have some insecurities about being needed and do not handle it well when someone tells me “Go to hell” using body language only.

Thanks again for the nomination and I am returning the favour by listing a few recent discoveries I consider worth mentioning:

Pics from somewhere

300 stories




It turned into something more (Daily prompt: Goals)

When you started your blog, did you set any goals? Have you achieved them? Have they changed at all?

I normally get these writing prompts and ignore them as I have enough crazy ideas for blogs floating in my head.  But ever so often you notice something, stroll by, stop, turn around and look again.

Why did I start?  Do I still have the same objective?  Shit, I know I am repeating the original author, but is that not the idea?  Those three sentences had thoughts jumping in my head like a bunch of tweenies at a Hannah Montana concert.

I always wanted to write, but never had the platform or guts, you choose.  Writing is a personal process for me as I can only write about stuff I know or feel or see.  I write as a witness, a reporter on life.  My brother in law kept on pestering me to take up blogging.  I remember that I was very reluctant, unsure, like standing on the edge of cliff, ready for base jumping but unsure whether the parachute will deploy.  Then there was a tragic turn of events when two young fathers I knew lost their lives in February.  Something pushed me of that cliff…my own mortality.

I am blessed with two amazing children and I was confronted with weird feelings of  “Do my kids really KNOW me?”  If I die tomorrow what would their perception of me be?  I know I am their father, but what do they know about my views, the things I love or hate, the things I laugh and cry about?  How will they know?  Is there enough time between parenting and work and living to allow them to get to know me?  I certainly didn’t know my dad that well when I was 13.  So the answer was obvious…Clear as day… Write.it.down.

And it started.  I wrote stories daily about my life, my opinions, my views and my experiences.

And then it changed, not in a bad way, probably more accurate to say that it evolved.  I still have the ambillical cord attached to my initial goal, but the baby grew up.  This blog is so much more than stories, it’s an escape, its’ become my addiction.  I use it to experiment with words, to expirement with humour, to experiment with topics.  And the most amazing thing about it is that it’s alive!  There is an energy that flows through it, like the Frankenstein monster.  I love the fact that people react to my stories, they read it, some like it and some even take the time to comment and interact.

The blog is an expansion of my initial goal.  It has grown to something totally unexpected.  It is my source of escape, my ability to fly through the world of words, opening the steel doors to my mind and allowing expression that I never knew possible. Like a bird.  It freed my mind.

Now writing is ecstacy.  My other orgasm.

Free your mind.

I was born on 11 January 2013.  I am two months old today, that is Me, the writer.  This day coincides with the day I published my first post on this blog. (40 posts ago)  I am still an infant blogger.  I drink milk, (prefer beer and wine) but I learn something new every day, therefore I’m growing.  It’s great.

When I started on this journey, I knew that it was something I wanted to do for a very long time but I didn’t realise how addictive it would become.

WordPress lists some tips on blogging in numerous articles, and one of the tips was to post regularly.  (And keep the content good, and don’t get lazy).  One article suggested that I should find a posting schedule that I am comfortable with.  It started as one post a week, grew to two, but it became very clear, very soon that I needed to post once a day, every weekday.  (I have mentioned before  that weekends were invented for doing nothing.)

In a very short period of time WordPress was listed by Google as one of my most frequently visited websites.  Forgotten children like Rotten tomatoes, Facebook and Superherohype were pushed aside, packed away in dark corners.  Calling my name, calling for attention, but useless calls nonetheless.

I don’t know any crackheads, yet, but I do know that (1) I get very agitated when I don’t have Internet access, (2) I constantly think of what to write, (3) How to write and (4) When I will get the opportunity to write.  I verify my following daily, check for comments like a little kid who has never seen candy.  I spend hours reading random stuff from total strangers as if my life depends on it.  Is this normal?  Is this was they call obsession?

My craving for posting daily has also created some concerns for my wife.  She reckons I spend too much time in front of the computer when I am at home.  Am I really becoming that guy?  (Writer is smiling)  I could reply with “Well, be grateful it’s not porn!” but I know better.

My wife has also asked me how do I come up with something to write about every day?

That’s an easy one.  Finding topics to write about is about as difficult as finding oxygen.  “It happens”, like Forrest Gump said.  It’s just shit on the shoe and then we write.   I say “we” with the utmost respect to all the great writers out there in the blogosphere.  I am fortunate to be part of this amazing community of writers.

I write about specific things that happen, inspirational stories or anecdotes I pick up daily.  I prefer to keep it personal, to tell stories that I have been a witness to.  Stories I want my kids to read.  My gratification does not come from the topic I choose, it comes from the act of writing, the process.  Putting thoughts on-screen, wrestling with words, contemplating new titles, fighting with paragraphs.  Like an artist trying to mix the perfect colour on his pallet for his next genius stroke.

Life is a toyshop of tales and experiences.  It is a never-ending story that only needs willing people to observe and report on it.  Writing has become such an integral part of my daily activity, that it’s difficult to imagine a time in my life without doing it.

Today I look at life differently, I am more cautious with my opinions, I observe more, I consider more, I listen more, I see more, I think more, I am more connected.  It’s a kind of freedom that is very difficult to explain.  A freedom of expression, freedom of stress, freedom of worries, freedom of being alive in a way.

Maybe En Vogue (the girl group, generation Y!) expressed it best in the title of their nineties hit:

“Free your mind”  because that is what writing does.  The ability to write is the big copper key that turns the heavy lock, swings the steel door wide open and allows your mind to escape.