life lesson # ... I lost count

If you are so fortunate, take the worst sex you’ve ever had. Multiply it by 1000, it’s still better than spinning.

There are days in your life that you will always remember. They will stick there forever at the edges of your conscious. Some of them are good and some of them are bad and some of them are when you looked in the mirror and saw yourself achieving the impossible. Well … for you anyway.

Today I made a rash decision. I seem to be making a few of those lately. It’s great fun. Go to weigh-less, so I did. Book a cruise, so I did. Go for a spinning class, SO I DID.

Not the brightest of ideas since I had never been for a spinning class. In fact to be certain I’d never even been on a bike longer than 20 minutes. But I plunged on with my obviously Gryffindor courage and booked into a class. I got to the gym and then discovered only one gym towel and without much effort convinced he-who-will get-sucker-punched-in-the-morning-cos-he-laughed-at-me aka Tim that he could do without a gym session. With towel in hand and water bottle in the other, I marched bravely to the spinning class.

I even went in.

And stayed there.

I found my bike. No 5. If only I could have smelt like that afterwards.

A kindly dude named Anton helped my out with the settings on the bike and everything else that I needed to be prepared. I was strapped in and ready to go. The Gryffindor courage kicked in a little bit more and I even began a bit of cycling before the class began. No one ever said bravery is equivalent to wisdom..

Wendy, the instructor (who will hence forth be known as the Witch of the Spinning Class), came to check if I was all strapped in nicely, made some minor adjustments and then went back to her seat so that the torture could commence.

We started of slow. I’ve heard this is so that you can be lulled into a false sense of security and think you are better than you actually are.

It works.

I was happily peddling away matching the speeds until she decided to “take it up a notch”. That was when the uphill began. After what felt like forever peddling as hard as I can do the ups and down, I looked up into the bright shining white face of the Virgin Active Clock only to discover that a whole 10 minutes had passed. At that point I was ready to pass out. But the Gryffindor courage kept going and I kept cycling. The minutes ticked by and the Witch of the Spinning Class kept saying weird things like go faster. I was already going as fast as I could.

But eventually the class came to an end and I am pleased to report that I survived the entire class and did the full 45 minutes of spinning. I didn’t think I could. I had no Thomas the tank engine delusions. But I did.

And that’s just AWESOME

it's that time again

birthdays

Such lovely things they are. I'm approaching mine with the same gusto and happiness that I always have but I can't help but think about all those nasty questions that keep popping up.

Everyone thinks that hearing it from them will some how make more sense or suddenly make me change me mind in the 5 seconds that they speak to me.

not gonna happen.

moving on.

I've enclosed some the link to a radio show where ANC Youth League spokesperson attempts to clarify what they mean by "sleeping around" in reference to Helen Zille.

http://www.zoopy.com/video/w55/sleeping-around-is-sleeping-around


Please let me know what it means if YOU figure it out.

SEXPO ..... NO No nO oh Oh OH UHHHH

Much has been made in the media regards the Cape Town Sexpo. I get it I really do. But I don't really agree with the reason that Sexpo is being protested. Sexpo does not degrade women. The women cavorting up on that stage want to be up there. Arianna Star, the bore that she is, really does think that dropping milk all over herself and then licking it off the plastic sheet underneath her is sexy as hell.

 

It wasn't really.

 

I don't object to Sexpo. In fact I think everyone should make the trip at least once in their life time. In order just to see how boring it actually is. The thing about Sexpo is not that it degrades women, it's that it trivialises sex. All the best books on sex tell you that it's something intimate to be shared between two people in love with each other. How intimate is it to be wondering around looking at chocolate coated penises and porn DVD's titled "BLACK POLES IN WHITE HOLES"?

 

While I have no objection to the things YOU do behind your closed doors, I don't really want to know about it. And that's the essence of what Sexpo is; the chance for you to show off about what goes on behind closed doors.

 

The real Sexpo should just be you, your partner and a closed door.... and maybe some edible body paint.

 

Ask Arianna for her plastic sheet.