Vonkiedool’s aflaai blog!

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Making love is like life….?!

Making a cup of coffee is like making love to a beautiful woman. It’s got to be hot. You’ve got to take your time. You’ve got to stir… gently, and firmly. You’ve got to grind your beans until they squeak. And then you put in the milk.

Laying a carpet is… very much like making love to a beautiful woman. You check the dimensions, lay her out on the floor, pin her down, nail her, then walk all over her. If you’re adventurous - like me - you might like to try an underlay.

Well, hanging wallpaper is also very much like making love to a beautiful woman. Clean all the relevant surfaces, spread her out on the table, cover her with paste, and stick her up. Then you clean your brush, light your pipe, stand back and admire your handiwork.

Putting up a tent, is… very much like making love to a beautiful woman. You rent her, unzip the door, put up your pole an’…slip in to the old bag.

Washing a car, is very much like making love to a beautiful woman. You’ve got to caress the bodywork. Breathe softly and gently. And give every inch of it your loving attention. And make sure you’ve got a nice wet sponge.

And yet, having therapy is very much like making love to a beautiful woman. You get on the couch, string ‘em along with some half-lies and evasions, probe some deep dark holes, and then hand over all your money.

Going to the brink of death and back, in a nine car pile-up on a dual carriage-way, is very much like making love to a beautiful woman. First of all, brace yourself, hold on tight - particularly if it’s a rear-ender. And pray you make contact with her twin airbags as soon as possible.

Going fishing was very much like making love to a beautiful woman. First of all, clean and inspect your tackle, carefully pull back your rod cover, and remove any dirt or gunge that may have built up while not in use. Then, extend your rod to its full length, and check that there are no kinks or any wear. Particularly at the base, where the grip is usually applied. Make sure you’ve got a decent float, the appropriate bait, and that there’s plenty of shot in your bag

May 16, 2008 Posted by vonkiedool | Humor, Lewensfilosofie | , | No Comments

Another life moral story!

In the dead of summer a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. A hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular, “Gosh… if I go down three inches… I will feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed.”There was a fish in the water thinking, “Gosh… if that fly goes down three inches I can eat him.”

There was a bear on the shore thinking, “Gosh… if that fly goes down three inches… that fish will jump for the fly… and I will eat him.”

It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake preparing to eat a cheese sandwich. “Gosh,” he thought, “if that fly goes down three inches… and that fish leaps for it… that bear will expose himself and grab for the fish. I’ll shoot the bear and then have a proper lunch.”

You probably think this is enough activity for one bank of a lake, but I can tell you there was more.

A wee mouse by the hunter’s foot was thinking, “Gosh… if that fly goes down three inches… and that fish jumps for that fly… and that bear grabs for that fish… the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his cheese sandwich.”

A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was fashionable to do on the banks of this particular lake around lunch time, “Gosh… if that fly goes down three inches… and that fish jumps for that fly… and that bear grabs for that fish… and that hunter shoots that bear… and that mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich… then I can have mouse for lunch.”

The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the cooling mist of the water…

The fish swallows the fly…
The bear grabs the fish…
The hunter shoots the bear…
The mouse grabs the cheese sandwich…
The cat jumps for the mouse…
The mouse ducks…
The cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of the story is….

Whenever a fly goes down three inches…
Some pussy is probably in danger.

May 16, 2008 Posted by vonkiedool | Humor | , | No Comments

Prozac versus Viagra!!

Diary following our 25th Wedding Anniversary.

# Day 1 Just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary with not much to celebrate.
When it came time to re-enact our wedding night, he locked himself in the bathroom and cried.

# Day 2 Today, he says he has a big secret to tell me. He’s impotent he says and he wants me to be the first to know. Why doesn’t he tell me something I don’t know! I mean, he actually thinks I haven’t noticed.

# Day 3 This marriage is in trouble. A woman has needs. Something must change soon.

# Day 4 A miracle has happened! There’s a new drug on the market that will fix his ‘problem’. It’s called Viagra. I told him that if he takes Viagra, things will be just like they were on our wedding night. I think this will work. I replaced his Prozac with the Viagra, hoping to lift something other than his mood.

# Day 5 What absolute bliss!!.

# Day 6 Isn’t life wonderful but it’s difficult to write while he’s doing that.

# Day 7 This Viagra thing has gone to his head. No pun intended! Yesterday, at Burger King, the manager asked me if I’d like a Whopper. He thought they were talking about him. But, have to admit it’s very nice - I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.

# Day 8 I think he took too many over the weekend. Yesterday, instead of mowing the lawn, he was using his new friend as a weed wacker. I’m also getting a bit sore.

# Day 9 No time to write. He might catch me.

# Day 10 Okay, I admit it. I’m hiding. I mean, a girl can only take so much. And to make matters worse, he’s washing the Viagra down with neat whisky! What am I going to do? I feel tacky all over…

# Day 11 I’m basically being screwed to death. It’s like living with a Black and Decker drill. I woke up this morning hot-glued to the bed. Even my armpits hurt. He’s a complete pig.

# Day 12 I wish he was gay. I’ve stopped wearing make-up, cleaning my teeth or even washing but he still keeps coming after me! Even yawning has become dangerous…

# Day 13 Every time I shut my eyes, there’s a sneak attack! It’s like going to bed with a scud missile. I can hardly walk and if he tries that “Oops, sorry”
thing again, I’ll kill the bastard.

# Day 14 I’ve done everything to turn him off. Nothing is working. I even started dressing like a nun but this just seems to make him more horny. Help me!

# Day 15 I think I’ll have to kill him. I’m starting to stick to everything I sit on.
The cat and dog won’t go near him and our friends don’t come over any more.
Last night I told him to go screw himself and he did.

# Day 16 The bastard has started to complain about headaches. I hope the bloody thing explodes. I did suggest he might try stopping the Viagra and going back on Prozac.

# Day 17 Switched the pills but it doesn’t seem to have made any difference… Egad!
Here he comes again!

# Day 18 Aaaahhhh! He’s back on Prozac. The lazy sod just sits there in front of the TV all day with that remote control in his hand and expects me to do everything for him. What absolute bliss!

May 16, 2008 Posted by vonkiedool | Humor | , , | No Comments