How did you get your nickname?
Between not being able to hear your answer.. or caring.. how about we save some time and let me tell you how “oh her” came about..
Once upon a time in the village.. I was hanging out with my mate, lets call her.. Pookinoo.
So, pookinoo was chatting to a dungaree of lesbians she knew.. and I was loitering beside her, waiting for an exit strategy, when all of a sudden someone said “…yea that Kellyn chick.”
*shock horror*
To this day I’m not sure what they were talking about, but Pookinoo’s eyes popped to the size of saucers and she looked at me.
#Disclaimer *the person represented in this photo is not necessarily Pookinoo nor resemble the likeness of Pookinoo..*
I smiled knowingly at her and she knew what I was about to do.
“Kellyn who?” I asked the loose-lipped lesbians. Clearly they had no idea who I, this friend of Pookinoo’s, was.
They answered (not in unison, just “one of them” answered and I didn’t really know/remember/care who she was) “that girl that was with CENSORED last week”
*awkward pause*
“Oh. Her.” I responded ashamedly. At this point, unable to contain her amusement, Pookinoo shrieked with a laughter that has echoed several years now.
Since that tragic report of my behaviour, I had thought went unnoticed, unrecorded, forgotten, ”Kellyn who? Oh. Her” was born.
The Case of the Missing Mug…
This morning at the office, as I walked into the communal-kitchen, with my Teddy Mug in hand…
Hoping to brew up my usual early morning elixer (this has recently - since I’ve quit smoking - become more important to me than usual) I come accross a horrific scene:
Terrorists, ransom letters, a missing mug and Liam Neeson on the phone (fyi, the latter should scare the living shit out of you more than the picture of the terrorists).
It started with the owner of the Missing Mug posting this letter on the water boiler:
Clearly she is upset, and one should not fuck with someone who has not had their first cup of coffee that morning, especially if that someone has quit smoking the previous day and was resorting to coffee as a substitute drug - #justsaying.
I increase the grip on my Teddy Mug ever so slightly as I read on:
(For foreigners, the ‘r’ [which should be in capital format] stands for Rands, go do the conversion yourself here)
Clearly these fuckers are morons… they don’t use the correct punctuation or letters nor do they know the real value of a god damn garfield mug!
Concluding that they’re not serious, I roll my eyes and start with the morning ritual, adding my instant coffee to my mug, then the sugar then the bazooka… ? … bazooka? - I read on…
They’ve actually gone and added effing RPGs (rocket propelled grenades) to the whole debacle… now. THAT. makes. THIS. a-whole-other-story!
I still haven’t had my morning coffee, and along with the RPG’s and my pulsating veins, that have yet to receive yesterday and today’s 15 small cylindrical doses of nicotene, I’m about to shit my pants in fear that my Teddy Mug could be next.
But just as I’m about to abort my own coffee making mission, the young lady with the missing Garfield Mug posts the following on the wall (for lack of better social networking words):
Phew…
We and the mugs in the company are safe once more, which is more than what I can say for those little shits who stole Garfield.
** I’ll keep updating this post with the latest news on: The Case of the Missing Mug…” ** - Theo Era
100% Bok supporter
the south african national anthem for Dummies
mine: puzzle piece/ come closer/ oh were you working
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Oh Gandies.. When did u start playing kelly clarkson? Is nothing sacred anymore??
#deal
Size matters Big *ass Mp3 player #you’redoingitwrong
Awesome sign: “beware of the dog! And I wouldn’t trust the cat either”
- Me: ooo 28 degrees on wed, anyone wanna do a beach mission?
- Lee: don't you work?
- Me: not when the sun comes out. Sorta like the Cullens... but not at all like the Cullens, you know?
