Crack for cats

6MfelinefacepalmWe ran out of cat food the other day. Simple, right? Go buy some more…

…which I did. From the Cat Box Hyper.

A brand I hadn’t seen before, but which had glossy packaging (akin to the packs of Whiskas and Friskies alongside) as well as some nice words in the blurb about how cats will benefit from it.

Haha. Tell that to my cats.

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A frog he would a-wooing go, Jozi style.

frogstadpolesThe entry quoted below comes from my Facebook page, written last spring.

Some would call it love and romance, but I’d ascribe it to the primal force that drives all creatures.

About two years ago I dumped a jar full of tadpoles in the small pond of my postage-stamp-sized front garden. They thrived. And then they vanished.

Continue reading “A frog he would a-wooing go, Jozi style.”

“…and what does this thing do?”

Mature CoupleThere I am.

Teaching older people to use their smart gadgets while trying to maintain my coolth. Meanwhile, the wi-fi is farked, and I’m faced with three of Microsoft’s worst operating systems (ok, they’re all bad, but I had to choose a number) on different laptops.

Never mind that there’s an iPad, two Android tablet systems, and a couple of smartphones lurking on the flowered tablecloth.

Four of Jozi’s finest pensioners are about to step onto the treadmill that is the Internet. One of Jozi’s finest unemployed graphic artists is about to see her arse.

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Freakish Friday

I DO think I’m mad. Bloody crazy. Nuts. Gaga. Talk about biting off more than I can chew? Tomorrow is the day for doing that.

I am going to embrace my insane Joziburger™ self and Go Big Or Go Home.

First up: my inaugural meeting at the local chapter of BNI. This will be at 7am. Yes. 7am. Yay, for doing the school run at sunrise.    **thud**    I’m hoping I can slot in there, and make myself useful (and make myself some money), while finding out what the other members can do for me.

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“So, it’s like you’ve retired, almost…”

6Mwtf posterWHAT?

Someone, close to me, said this to me shortly after I’d been retrenched.

The air left my lungs (better places to go), my brain tried to crunch the words, my sense-of-self hauled out the giant “WTF?” poster.

NO!

People like me don’t retire. OK, maybe we do, officially, like when Old Mutual says we have to do something with that pension. But, really, like, retire?

NO WAYS!

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Why another blog about Jozi?

6Moysters“Oh, no,” you say, “another bloody blog about bloody Johannesburg. When will it end?”

You’re probably right. But this is a blog about how I see Joburg. Jozi. And how it makes me smile and wonder.

These days my life involves a lot more travel around Jozi. I was retrenched in January. Now I have to find ways to earn the proverbial rusk. I have visited more parts of the city than I ever did before…probably because I was once stuck in an office every day, five days a week – part of the engine room below decks.

I’ve tried to find work that is the same as what I did before, but Jozi also has her bitch side. There is no work. Or – if there is – then it is at a pittance, or else the purveyors of that work are in hack-and-slash mode and want to chop this tall poppy (ok, short poppie) down to size by telling me I’m too old, or overqualified.

Fuck. (Yes, I swear. Live with it.)

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