I don’t understand dentists. I’m not implying that they speak an entirely different language or whatever. I just don’t get what could possibly inspire someone to decide that they would absolutely love to pursue a career that involves looking into people’s mouths and poking around. It’s beyond me.
To a degree, you can sort of understand the motivation behind becoming a Gynaecologist (you know you can)…I mean you’ve got to get ‘some’ any which way you can, right? But to be a dentist… I don’t know.
I was at the dentist’s the other day and I was trying to figure it out.
I hoped to become a doctor when I was young, look at where I am now. In hindsight, I suspect I didn’t really give a shit about the field of medicine; I was freaked out by injections, when I flunked my examinations in the field of sciences I didn’t sit down and whine thinking my career was being compromised… I was put off by the number of years I’d have to sit behind a desk poring over questions glancing at me from the face of an examination sheet. I also had that niggling feeling that whatever examination dared cross paths with the examiners pen would come out on the losing end of things…
Then we have dentists.
When you see your dentist, consider this for a second; whilst you thought about waking up and going to your desk and playing touchy-feely with your keyboard, there was a guy or gal somewhere in the same class that couldn’t wait to dive into your mouth… well, not your necessarily.
Put another way, when you were checking out some lad or lass and thinking about placing your lips on their’s or, if you were the daring kind, playing hide and go seek with his or her tonsoles aided by your tongue, there was someone somewhere marveling at the delicate structure of teeth that stood between you and your ultimate prize (again, this is written with the deep seated belief that every young boy or girl attempted to play with a partner’s epiglottis)
When I think about occupational hazards, all that comes to mind is possibility that my PC will explode and the shrapnel will fly every which way and, if it so wishes, take abode somewhere in my body.
Sitting in the dentist’s chair, I couldn’t help but think, would it be so bad if I bit down really hard on his fingers? I mean, surely you get into this stuff knowing exactly what you are getting into. I suspect my eyes may have betrayed my intentions, because as that idea was starting to progress past a crawl and starting to get on its legs he stuffed a rubber something or other between my teeth.
Maybe it’s the power that comes with it. Face it. You can rig all the elections you want, go to the bush fire off a few shots, but ultimately, your dentist has you right where he wants you.
I don’t care that you may be Golola Moses or his idol, everyone is freaked out by the dentist. It’s probably all those tools on the tray next to you. Just lying there shining and glistening as if to say, ‘your teeth and I, we have a date. Some shit’s going to go down, but it won’t be consensual”. I was looking at them the other day and seriously weighed the merits of yanking out all my teeth and resigning myself to a life of soggy foodstuffs.
I went through a list of items that could be ‘soggified’ (no, it’s not a word) and was doing pretty well until I got to pizza. You just can’t do soggy pizza…or pork.
Is that it then?
When we are going through the motions and rigours of academia, is that what’s driving some of our peers, the prospect of clinging on to power without some annoying dude screaming AT YOU saying you have become corrupted by power?
The fact that you will hold such copious amounts of power and no one will bug you about fixing a road, building a school, destroying the school and then selling the land to investors? Is that what it’s all about?
Nuh, that ain’t it all… I think it comes down to trying to make a difference.
That’s right, you look around you at all the pain and injustice in the world and think, ‘man, people shouldn’t have to move around with their teeth looking like that’ and you decide right then and there that your mission in life is to uphold the tooth…teeth… it works better singularly anyway, so, yeah, uphold the tooth, the whole tooth and nothing but the tooth, so help me…
It’s oft been suggested that there’s a great deal of money in dentistry. In essence, this is where the whole detoothing spiel kicks in… I think. But come on, there are other ways to make money.
Don’t get it twisted, I respect dentists. I admire the trade to a degree. As my dentist hacks and cracks in there, I can’t help but marvel over the finesse.
BUT
If I had to choose, I’d sooner be a gynecologist.
Then again, one man’s mouth is another man’s v…..
Octoberfest | Olympics in HD
Posted: 1st September 2010 by Ivan in Party, Under The InfluenceTags: Octoberfest, Olympics, Zone 7
Facebook, for those of you that have wandered into this century with no form of preparation whatsoever, is a social networking website. Did you pick up on the word social? Good. By its very nature, this means you interact with loads of people. from all walks of life…lawyers, teachers, refined anatomical sales associates and doctors… especially doctors.
I’m in the unenviable position of being friends with some of the doctors I have interacted with. Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s pretty neat to have doctors that you can actually call your friends. The problem is, you don’t have the benefit of telling those harmless lies anymore. You know the ones, “I have this friend… who got this er, boil in the middle of his er…body”
At this point, a visit to the doctor’s will probably go something like this;
-Hi doctor, I’m not feeling well…
- I can imagine, that was some crazy party you went to, eh?
-I don’t think I follow… I was home over the weekend…
-Nuh, man… don’t you remember, you were at this crib with the pool… with Shantey and that other girl… Your boy was trying to lick face..
-Oh, that… I had forgotten about that one…
- You forget way too soon, you only uploaded the pictures last night…
-What the…
-Don’t worry, doctor patient confidentiality… so anything you tell me is strictly between us… like say if you gave me Shantey’s number… I would be very professional about it… you know, you could suggest that she becomes my friend…
- Well, I don’t know her that well…
-Come on guy, you have 69 friends in common… but enough of that, what’s the problem?
- Well, I feel a little under the weather…
-Like your head’s got a truck trying to come out of it?
-Yes…
- And like everything you eat won’t get along with your insides and wants to leave? Using whatever exit is available?
-Yes doctor, how did you know…
- It’s your current status message
-Oh
-Don’t worry about it, I reckon it’s a hangover… Ernest was right. Do you think he would let me friend him?
-What?
-You’re probably right, why don’t you like his status message and suggest that I like it too…
- Dude, that’s weird…
- No, weird is setting up a facebook page for antipop and then setting up multiple email accounts so you can comment..
- did you do that?
-_ Of course not… do you think I should…
- dude, focus… I’m sick.
-No, you are hangover. Just go home and rest some more. Now then…do you think it would be weird if I poked someone on Facebook.,, you know, before we meet for real?
So biggie’s back. . .
Posted: 18th July 2010 by Ivan in Big BrotherTags: Big Brother Africa, Big Brother Africa All Stars
It’s Big Brother All-Stars. Contestants from the previous editions return to the house for another season will number five be lucky? I favour the number seven but I’d hate to have to sit through two or three more editions of Africa’s biggest reality show just to prove a point.
Let’s just hope that season five is the show’s swansong. Don’t get me wrong, Africa loves it, so it makes sense that we should get more… it’s kind of like crack in that sense. You know its wack, but your cousin digs it so you can’t say jack.
It’s been suggested that this show is going to be something of a game changer and I can’t wait to see how this plays out. Let me think; will it feature contestants competing for a cash prize?
Er, yes. Will they come from 14 different countries? Well, yeah… will it be hosted by South Africa? Erm… So it’s not much of a change is it? Hang on, there’s a twist; there will be no insufferable Vuvuzelas!
Plus (and I think this is the part we are supposed to be hella excited over) it will feature contestants from previous editions of Big Brother Africa.
Exciting stuff that, I can barely type and that has nothing to do with the fact that my hand is busy slapping my forehead eliciting a thought process that climaxes in the realisation that there was a reasonable explanation behind the lack of build up to this moment.
So, 14 housesmates from our past… that should be interesting, right? It sort of depends on how you look at it. If the previous editions were won by the most entertaining housemates, then what are we being offered?
It’s sort of like walking into a restaurant and having the waitress roll her eyes at you and say, “the good stuff is finished and is off spending it’s prize money, but we have the mawolu.”
If you’re hungry, you’ll take it, but as you chew it, there’s no running away from the realisation that you’ve been handed the leftovers. Again, this is not necessarily a bad thing.
I for one dig frozen pizza, so I can’t wait to see who DSTv (and by extension M-net) is pulling out of refrigeration for our viewing pleasure.
We know there’s definitely a Ugandan in there and seeing as none of our representatives has ever won, any of them could be thrown back in there. Question is, who truly deserves a second chance?
Gae has moved on and done well for himself. Maureen got married, Morris is doing well as model and we haven’t heard much about Phil and Hannington.
So, if we were to in fact give someone another chance, I reckon it would be down to Phil, Hannington and Morris, not because there’s anything wrong with being a model (I respect that) but rather because we expected him to publish a dictionary when he left the house. There’s just so much untapped potential there.
Will we benefit from the spirit of camaraderie that the East African Community is trying to instill in us or will Kenyans, Tanzanians and Ugandans conspire against each other? Speaking of which, am I the only one that thinks Tanzania’s hot cake will be coming back?
It was mentioned earlier that the money that would have been used during the recruitment drive was channeled into “recreating the house in a very different way and focusing on putting new technology into place”. What does this all mean?
The web is ablaze with the suggestion that the shower hour may be back which would lead us to believe that it was always on the cards but the technology at the time just couldn’t permit us to watch people bathe. You’ve got to be grateful for waterproof video cameras.
Last year’s host is back and hopefully this is one of those second time lucky situations. A lot of people didn’t feel a connection with IK last season, but if we are willing to give the show the benefit of doubt there’s really no reason he shouldn’t be granted some sort of reprieve.
Unless of course he decides to wear another leather jacket. I don’t know about you but I can’t wait to see how they are going to introduce the characters this time around, I can’t be bothered to speculate over Big Brother’s persona this time around, it can be a child with Tourette’s syndrome for all I care.
However, if the show opens with a splash of paint and people in military fatigue, I may have to claim a refund.
Quick recap. We’ve got contestants from previous shows coming back.
Sean Paul is going to perform and there will be (with any luck) no Vuvuzelas. It starts tonight on DSTv.
Okay, let’s see whether I can pull this off. I want to call it my two minute post. I woulda called it a one minute post but that woulda been pre…er, immature.
Looks like way back when (in 2005) I was hella excited by the prospect of having my voice heard, I went and had my finger dipped, nay pressed hard in an ink pad and got ready to vote, got ready, got impatient real bad, but when D-day came, something came up, ain’t that real sad? I musta felt that way coz till this week, I had no clue that I had a voter’s card.
Anywho… this time won’t be the same, I won’t lug around with the shame, the kind that came, then, when, I, didn’t get a chance to have a say, to stand tall with a purple thumb on that day, when I didn’t care what the person on the radio had to say, about the polls, and ignored the calls, till the ringing took its toll… I’ll be in that hall, standing in line waiting my turn, stomach excited…tummy starting to churn…
Someone suggested that my vote won’t count, maybe it won’t count for jack… well, maybe, but what if it does? What if you decided whether who leaves and who comes back? Kinda makes you wanna give a…..hoot.
Snap, my five minutes are coming to a close, I don’t know whether I’ve put across, the message I meant to, the idea that arose, anyway, come 2011 let us see how it goes, who knows, who can? Think on it… Think long and hard and when you are done, think some more and when the pessimism starts to rise, hit PAUSE.
He gazes into her eyes. Looking past her long delicate eyelashes and descending into the abyss of her white orbs. Falling deeper and deeper. He doesn’t realise it at first, but when he does, he doesn’t fight it. He takes it like a man. A man falling into the eyes of the woman he loves. When he lands, he picks himself up, dusting himself of whatever sediment of emotion has collected. Gathered.
He staggers; drunk, perplexed. Realising that it is futile. The emotion is from within, not without.
He glances about him, realising, for the first time that it is not in her eyes that he wanders. He is beyond that. Past all that.
He realises. He is in her heart and the emotion that has collected has made its way to his own and she…she lives in his.
He blinks. The blink of a man in love.
And then he sees her. As one seeing another for the first time. In light anew. . .
I want to make money. A decent amount, not necessarily be in position to hide 900m at home for whatever reason, but I think money is generally nice. Let’s skip the lecture on how it’s the root of all evil and how it kills. Let’s, instead dwell on the other really important issue. How to make it. You can go it with your 9 to 5 (who am I kidding, it’s probably an 8 -6) and make like you are content, but come on, don’t you want to drive that oh-so-awesome ride? You do and you know it. Let’s examine a few options…
Wise people will tell you that investment is the way to go. What they won’t tell you, is what to invest in…which to be honest is a true testament to their wisdom. I’ve scoured the internet for all of two minutes and gotten bored so, frankly, I’m going to wing it. Invest in BLOOD.
Wait. Don’t go away. I’m on to something here. The way I see it, there’s a serious need for blood these days. You watch stuff like Ninja Assassin and Spartacus and you can’t help but marvel and think, “Bloody hell, whoever is giving these guys blood must be sitting on a heap of money…” you know what? They probably are. Now you have to be smart about how you go about this business. I think it would make a lot of sense if you posed as a red cross official and you did your thing.
The Red Cross and Blood Bank basically publicise their blood drives and hold them in open areas. This, they figure, screams transparency. The reality; it’s a major inconvenience. Nobody likes a showy person. It makes a lot more sense if the blood was donated in a convenient and private fashion.
Send text messages to people and approach the ones that reply. You don’t want to go taking blood from just anyone, do you? ‘course not. Visit any one of the 4560 sms spam providers and ask them to send a text to everyone in their database saying, “I’m out for blood, holla at me on __________” then you can collect when people contact you. And they will.
Now, you have to remember, some people are a bit shy about these things, so they may mask their trepidation with nasty words. Bear the brunt of their cusses, after all, nothing ventured, nothing gained… or something.
We’ll skip the boring how’s and when’s. For all I care, you can send for it from ‘outside countries’.
Let’s move straight to making your first sell…sale?
You can connive with people in the hospitals to give you a hook up. Short of that you risk becoming the grim reaper incarnate and constantly being on the look out for accidents. That would just be wrong. You don’t want to be the guy in the middle of a traffic jam with a wicked grin and a glint in your eye with thoughts of…well, you get the idea.
Okay, I hear you. Blood is not for everybody. Fine. Let’s go to entertainment.
It’s not enough to go into music these days. You need to offer the market something different. Back in the day it was enough to just have a crazy-ass sounding name, but now, not so much. Sorry Dripping Lizard, your time is long gone.
What you want to do, failing getting a gig as a back up rapper for klear kut, is come up with your own style. GNL has his Luga-flow, Raba Daba has Luga-Ragga. Now to carve a niche, simply take away from these guys. I’d recommend a style that’s kinda common, but no one has attached a name to it; No-Flow! Just keep mumbling and rumbling and saying stuff like you took a puff, stomp out in a huff, like Charlie in two and a half…men, mayne, see how easy it is to piece this, I’m outta here. Peace!