Husbands anon

Just in case you weren't concentrating

Tue, 10 Mar 2009 12:09:29 GMT

I'm still around- even more so, in fact, but if you need a dose of humour-lite (like funny, only not as) or just random piffle and bilge, you can read me at:

http://squidsquirts.blogspot.com

Thanks for reading me over the years, and please drop me a line there to give me your url, blog address or just to remind me that you exist! Hope to bump into you all again!

Scott

And a scorch mark on the ceiling

Mon, 09 Mar 2009 09:26:04 GMT

This post is being co-hosted at both sites- sort of a blog threesome (eh?). I have settled for Blogger, as it is linked to so many fun widgets and applications, and is easy to upload stuff to. I do feel a little guilty, blogdrive, in case you were wondering. Which is insane- guilt about a blog server? C�MON!- We were close, once, but I guess we just outgrew each other.

So I�m ready to make the move, but don�t want to alienate any friends, so will keep up the old site- maybe transfer some archived posts. I don�t think it�s going to be possible to transfer the whole thing, but hey, a fresh start wouldn�t be so bad.

In a fit of marketing genius, I left the name the same, but added �ymous�, so it shouldn�t be too difficult for anyone who gives a hoot to find it. My lack of posting for a year or so has left a distinct lack of hooting, though.

Unfortunately, it has been so hot, that on the weekend I spontaneously combusted, and am now forced to type this as a pair of smoking shoes with fried feet-stubs poking out. I hope to reconstitute my body, but as the heat is turned up in Cape Town AGAIN today, I will remain bodiless. Did I hear you say mindless? That�s just rude.

I�m really getting into this again- writing down nonsense. I have to as an antidote to blowing up inflatable frogs and digging out school socks from behind the bunk beds. It�s also great because I can throw out sentences such as �I�m just fiddling with my widget�. When I was a teenager, I would have been without pocket money for a month if I�d said that.

So this post will appear on both pages:

Husbands Anon and husbands anonymous- I can�t claim to have two blogs, though. I would keep both, but it is hard to type when you are just a pair of ash-laden shoes.

A Day Away from the Big Farm

Sat, 07 Mar 2009 16:22:02 GMT

So my parole officer (father-in-law) came to release me today for a trial-run of real life. I was at a loss- what do I do without my cell mates, the children?

In the end I went to explore the possibility of getting new glasses, or possibly contact lenses- as my current glasses didn't enjoy being kicked and dragged on the driveway last weekend. Apparently prescription eye-wear is not designed to connect with a woman-abuser's foot. Go figure. He did offer to replace them, but I said that all I was concerned about was the woman whom he had just beaten.

I have to wait three weeks to get new ones, but it'll be ok, the double-vision I experienced because of concussion has passed now, so my brain is undamaged. Yaaaaay!

Little blessings.

After that, I went and bought some cds, as I received payment for the book I helped write. I need happy music, I was thinking, as I walked into the music store. I came out with Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen and the Rolling Stones, so there is not much happy there. Who cares. I can be depressed and listen to good music. I can't imagine being depressed and listening to happy music.

*I am thinking of moving this site- with that in mind, I have set up a blogger account. I haven't made the shift, yet, but I am getting frustrated with blogdrive- it is very restrictive if you want to add widgets and images.

Let me know what you think of it: http://husbandsanon.blogspot.com

I did buy the children some bribes, er, toys, too, on the way from the bottle store, er, supermarket. Winner Dad.

All in all, a reasonably unterrible day.

What did YOU google?

Fri, 06 Mar 2009 11:51:54 GMT

Fortunately I don�t have to itemise my life here- Dear reader, today I ate toast.

LOVE BITE: MAN FALLS IN LOVE WITH PET SHARK

I try and stick to whatever pops into my head at the last moment- does that show?

WOMAN GIVES BIRTH TO MONKEY- CLONING EXPERIMENT LAUDED

I have been trying to think of ways of attracting more readers.

GERMAN MAN ARRESTED IN KNICKERBOCKER CRIME

I used to have many more people who popped in every day.

FACT: THE SKY IS FALLING- LITTLE CHICKEN VINDICATED

But they seem to have all packed in blogging- I did too, for a while.

BLANCMANGE INCIDENT CAUSES BLUSHING

So the only way I can let people know I�m back is to visit blogs.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN IF YOUR POO IS GREEN?

That�s the best way of increasing traffic, I guess.

CANNIBAL ARRESTED FOR BITING FINGERNAILS

Rather than resorting to cheap tactics.

LUCKY BLACK CAT SITS ON WET PAINT, SUES FOR LOSS OF INCOME

Like sticking random phrases up here, which may or may not be googled.

DO FROGS HAVE TEETH?

So, if you�d like me to visit your website, gimme a shout, and I�ll pop around, provided it isn�t a portal to NASTY P*RN, or an attempt to clean out my bank account.

nipplefruit

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 18:23:51 GMT

I couldn't let that last post sit there. I had a moment of sheer desolation, but I am fickle. I have resorted to the modern man's way of dealing with inner turmoil:

Watching Scarface, again.

Coccyxfruit

Spleenfruit

Floating ribfruit

I'm not quite happy, but happier.

No Gratuitous use of the word 'Nipple' Here

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 15:37:38 GMT

What�s your idea of desolation? Is it a place, a barren desertified landscape, pocked with tumbleweeds and sun-bleached bone fragments?

I feel like I have set up a deckchair there, and am sitting waiting for the rain to come. I wonder if it will?

That may seem melodramatic- I�ll accept that I occasionally lean towards that- but when you�re there, well, all you see is the horizon.

It could be that desolation is the absence of people, or the sensation of being not an individual but a blurred face in the crowd.

It could be that I need a good night�s sleep.

I hope that the book has more readers than this blog- which for the time-being appears to be stumbled upon by people googling things like �boobfruit�.

Good grief.

I may have said �loinfruit� in reference to the offspring, but what, pray tell, are boobfruit?

Does this mean that if I attach the word �fruit� to random body parts, I will get readers?

Bumfruit

Neckfruit

Shoulderfruit

Toefruit

Backfruit

Facefruit

Fingerfruit

See, I have to keep it clean. Nobody will come back if I say �p*nisfruit*

Hey! Come back!

Form a neat, orderly queue for autographs, please

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 16:39:23 GMT

This is the book I contributed to. It's just been printed, and will be on the shelves soon- it isn't at the moment- I got an advance copy. This is my blog, so I'll brag...

I wrote a chapter on communication. Stop snorting behind your hands!

It's called the Happy Years, published by Abraham Kriel. I'll post a more formal link to a place where it can be bought later on, with isbn and other details, but, unless you are parenting adolescent children you may not give a hoot. Unless you really like me, and wish to support my first book being published.

It's been a crappy week, so excuse me while I revel in something good:

Whhhhhooooooohhhhhhoooooooooooooooo

Fire on the Belly

Tue, 03 Mar 2009 03:50:14 GMT

Leaving Jerry Springer behind�

It's summer here in Cape Town. Not just any summer- feels like the hottest in decades. The kind of heat that causes orchids to grow spontaneously in the bathroom, and human beings to wilt like roses on the 15^th February.

It would be nice if all I was shedding were petals, but no. I'm 'glowing': what my mum always said was the polite term for sweating like a chain-gang full of convicts. Why is it that I can sit in the train looking malarial with a sheen of sweat soaking right through my clothes, and other people can look as if they are enjoying a mild breeze? I sit there, groaning softly to myself, rivulets of sweat creating tiny deltas on my collar, unable to summon the energy to fan myself.

The children also seem to battle- must have some Scottish gene that prefers the barren and frozen thistle-speckled highlands. I've never seen children sweat like this. It's so hot that if you drink cold water, steam is liable to scald your nose.

My hands drift limply over the keyboard, and I wonder if it will ever be cool again. It's been 35 degrees C the last couple of days- where Neen is in the States, it has been -4 degrees. It truly is bizarre to see the difference on the video link- her in scarf and hat, me half-naked (there is a distinction there: I do not send out live footage of myself naked on the net, ok?).

But am I really complaining?

In a month or two, the monotony of winter will set in- which in Cape Town is just enough wind to spoil an outing to the beach. There isn't any point in complaining about the weather (ok, sure, if your entire town is subsumed by a global superstorm, then maaaaybe you have a right to complain). Weather just is. I'd better stop before my sebaceous glands seep into the keyboard and ruin the computer.

O, for a baseball bat and a dark alley

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 05:26:20 GMT

Multiple choice:

So I was at a party on Saturday night. A woman I've known for twenty years was there with her very tall, strong drunk boyfriend. She didn't want him to drive. He pulled her out of the car and beat her up, really badly, knocked her tooth out, covered her with bruises from head to toe. I tried to restrain him- but he's huge, and he beat me up- kicked me in the head and stuff. She would not go to a hospital, would not lay charges, and wouldn't tell her family. She has allowed him to stay on in their apartment, and he has convinced her that it is her fault. I'm devastated. What would you do?

Tell your family
Go to the police
Keep quiet
Forgive him
Blame yourself
Blame alcohol
Hunt him down and kill him

Stupidly obvious.

I'm going to lay a charge today of assault (for what he did to me). I told her family. I will not, cannot, stand by and enable this abuse- one of the most violent things I have ever seen. I love my friend, and she needs to be away from him. I fear for her safety- she needs counselling, police, hospital. I may have lost a friend, but this is really one of those have-to-do-the-right-thing times.

Abuse against women and children is inexcusable. I'm a little afraid he may come after me, but it's worth it to know that he is exposed for what he is- a cowardly, brutal man with a psychotic streak who needs to be locked up, or at least very far from her.

I'm fine- a little bruised, but surprisingly uninjured. For her, the nightmare is just beginning. But she'll have the support of her family, who love her and will protect her.

*additional note: she has kicked him out, and left him. She's getting the help she needs from her family. She'll start the long process of recovery.

10 LIES THEY TELL AT MEALTIMES

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 19:23:46 GMT

This is deeeeeelicious! You should make this EVERY day, Daddy.
Mmmmm, this is better than the food at the restaurant.
Yes, I do want more: I'm not full!
I'm fuuuuull (the whining inflection is important, here).
I've always hated pasta.
Ooops! I 'dropped' those boiled potatoes on the floor. Twice.
I didn't eat snacks just before supper. (Conceals orange chip crumbs).
I'm tired/need the toilet/feeling sick�
That black bit looks like a dead fly, I'm not eating, ever again.
You cook muuuuch better than mommy, daddy (observe the mommy slump a little in her chair and vow never to cook again).

Yup.

I've had a week so far of feeding them, and they are still more-or-less upright. They've had the occasional snack to distract them, and I'm using paper plates as much as possible to avoid doing too many dishes, but at least I haven't had to call in UNICEF to prance around in white jeeps with inappropriate sources of nutrition.

9 weeks to go until Neen/mommy comes back.

9 weeks!

*makes small calculation*: 9 x 7 days = 63, 63 x 4 people= 252.

252 x 3 meals= 756

756 pizzas@ R50.00 per Pizza= R37 800.00 (not including tips for delivery)- so call it an even R40 000.00

(40000 South African Rand(s) = 4064.01 US Dollar(s)
1 USD = 9.8425 ZAR
1 ZAR = 0.1016 USD)

That's a lot of money.

That's a lot of pizza.

Anyone offering to bake me something?

http://www.gocurrency.com provided the economic expertise; I just sat with a head full of mush after four figures.