Congratulations to Crazy Dazee for winning this week's Caption My Freak Photo #8! Email me at gillian@homemakers-sa.co.za with your postal address and I'll send you a wee something. Here is her caption:
"God, this client is a Bitch to work with!"
Remember to come back on Tuesday for Caption My Freak Photo #9. Just Fucking Do It!
Congratulations to Aaron M. Gipson over at Leaving The Nest : An Expats Survival Guide who has just become a daddy of wee twin lassies and is the Winner of Caption My Freaky Photo #6.
Guidebook on how to identify hallucinogenic cacti: $30.00
Road trip to the desert with family: $150.00
Coming back from your "walk" to see them all as judgmental pastries baking under the Nevada sun: Priceless
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed covert operations for the CIA.
I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a Mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet shoved a short-shafted broom up my arse and swept the floor while I complete all these tasks.
I started out being a bit pissed off doing this vlog because I'd done it a few times and lost it while uploading to YouTube! But check how my eyes start twinkling when I start talking about Sheldon, Howard, Leonard and Raj? I think I have a serious problem. I may have to seek professional help. Any suggestions?