Ooops, your pen!s is showing.

Tattoos. We’ve all seen amazing ones. We’ve all seen hideous ones. I can kinda understand when someone gets a tattoo of a fairy on their lower back, thinking it is just grand. And then obviously lives to regret it. My theory is that they had an idea in their mind of this stunning, whimsical design, which turned out to be just an average trampstamp. What I don’t understand is this:

The Penis Tattoo

Friday Procrastination #1

Friday. Also known as, "I-can-do-this-work-on-Monday" day. My favourite day of the week. My very favourite day to procrastinate on. So, here is some procrastination for you.

My top 5 procrastinations under 30 seconds.

1. The bulldog who is scared of his own farts.

Get on my face, sunglasses.

I am very bad at looking after sunglasses.

I will ultimately sit or stand on them, so I have always bought el cheapos. Last year I bought a pair of Vogues from Sunglass Hut and for the first time I actually looked after them for a whole 18 months. When I know something costs more, I tend to be more responsible. Then one "fine" day in Cape Town, the wind blew them straight off my head and they were scratched revoltingly. I was going to take them back (I will get to why later) but then a week later I lost them. *cue wailing*

UNTIL TODAY! WOOT WOOT!

I was very lucky to win a competition from A Fashion Friend and Sunglass Hut. These lovely folks gave me R1000 to spend on a new pair of sunnies!

Why make an ad, when you can make a sexy ad?

Good morning and welcome to another edition of Shameless Self-Promotion! *crowd goes wild*

Working on the new Sissy Boy TV ad for 2013 was an absolute joy.

Sissy Boy have always used the line, "Love Yourself". Their past ad saw Candice Boucher strut through a club towards a hidden stranger. She ultimately leans up against a mirror and kisses her reflection.

The most disappointing birthday present in the world

I am a laat lammetjie. (Fact of the Day: that is pretty much the extent of my pathetic Afrikaans vocabulary, I blame growing up in Durban.) I have 6 nieces, 1 nephew, plus another boy/girl on the way.

The eldest are twin girls born on 25 June 2001. I was 13. Now don’t get me wrong, I have no idea what it is like to have a baby, and I can’t compare the love a mother must feel when she holds her child for the first time. But the first time I held these teeny tiny, wriggling humans, I instantly fell madly in love with them. I remember sitting there, watching their little chests rise and fall, unable to comprehend how it was possible to feel so much for someone you’d known for all of 5 minutes.

Ode to the Spambot

Ode to the Spambot 

by Kayli Vee Levitan 

O Spambot, on thine Twitter’s T.L, 

Ye stem from countries far and wide; 

From China, Mexico, and Kazakhstan thy dwell, 

With haste thou breaketh down thine pride. 

How not to be an asshole blogger that everyone hates

Dear bloggers of the world,

You guys are all important. Why? Because you inform opinions, change perceptions, and can actually make a real difference to people, clients, brands, AND THE WORLD! *cue applause*

This is a huge responsibility. But some just don’t take it seriously. And you know what that means? Since we are all (sadly) squashed under one general title – you make us ALL look bad.

So…

Stop judging. Start helping.

"Thinking Pretty" - Finalist in the SA Writers College Competition

Thinking Pretty

by Kayli Vee Levitan

I want one thing, and one thing alone. That man, sitting across the room.

I’ll admit it. I’ve started dressing differently. Skirt so tight, my thighs haven’t spent this much time squeezed together since I was 22. God, it’s been 16 years. I used a BIC pen to hold together my bun this morning, so I’d have an excuse to take it out, letting my hair gently topple to my shoulders - just like in those shampoo ads. I hope the black ink doesn’t stain my hair; it cost me a new washing machine! He always walks in after I’ve sat down, it’s a pity – I bought “sex shoes”, the kind that Mum wouldn’t be proud of. I had to sneak out of home early this morning so she wouldn’t notice them. I can imagine her 10c coin eyes, shrinking even further, as she judged her only daughter. These shoes look amazing, and I’m getting really good at walking in them.

Ya, I'm alive.

I haven't written in months and it's not because I forgot to, it's because shit has been buckwild.

Like, completely buckwild. Not "Oh deary me, look how busy I am as I visit friends and go to clubs and study a little and stuff", but completely and utterly crazy. Ie. Buckwild.

A lot has happened. Here is a list.

A LIST OF THING THAT HAVE HAPPENED:

Flying isn't always fun

The other day I officially went insane. I even started pulling out my hair - just so I could roll it into little balls that I shoved in my ears, to block the incessant drone I had to live through.

On my flight back to Cape Town there were two people sitting behind me who decided that they were besties. We had been flying for 1 hour and 34 minutes and they didn't keep quiet for more than 8 seconds. They weren't even talking quietly. You'd have thought that they were on opposite sides of the aisle, not 15cm apart.

It doesn’t help that the guy had the most nasal, whiny voice I've ever heard. He made Karen from Will and Grace sound like a gentle nightingale who could serenade you to sleep.

The Airport

So I'm sitting at the airport waiting for my flight to board to go see my family in Durban. There is something truly great about airports and as I sit here, watching people meander around, I begin to wonder if I could get away with taking pictures of them. That “CLIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCKKKK” whenever I try take my stalker shots results in awkward stares and could lead to a lawsuit one day.

Airports are a hub of emotion. A place where all stereotypes of society come together. There is always that couple standing right at the entrance to the departures lounge. They embrace one another, no not embrace, they are trying with all their might to push themselves so closely together that they become one mangled human being - with four limbs, two heads, but awwwww, one heart. Vomit. They are so repulsively slobbering in each other’s faces, that I have the urge to close the eyes of the stranger child standing in the queue behind me.

Ow, you punched my boob

“Hey there, I was just wondering how much a back massage is?”
“Uhh…. *silence*… umm…. We don’t do those.”
“What?”
“Umm… we don’t do umm… butt massages, sorry.”

This was definitely going to be a good time.

The other night, The BestFriend and I trotted to the "Happy Feet Traditional Asian Massage Parlour". I hate the word parlour. It makes me think of herpes, crabs and bad smells.

I.Hate.Pedestrians.

I am not an angry person. I’m quite cheerful, even in the mornings. I don’t sulk, I don’t get irrationally angry – unless I drink too much gin - and I remain calm in stressful situations. There are only two things that truly peeve me off beyond control. They take hold of the frontal lobe of my brain and contort it into a manic and fizzing ball of anger and resentment:

Shit drivers and equally shit pedestrians

Hi there, I'm GypsyFeet

I haven’t written in a while. Probably ‘coz the BossLady said that she isn’t marking our blogs anymore since she's busy with the new troop of First Years. Today I felt something was lacking in my life and I realised it was the fact that I missed writing about stuff that interested me. So here goes nothing, a bit of a life update:

1. I’m a Proud Mom
I was drunk the other night! Gasp! Who does that? Off we trotted home at around 4am from Fez to my friend's house to find some food. And I quite literally stumbled across a cat. “Shhhee hash’nt got a howme” I was told. “She waz jusht like, like left here in the garden. Her name is Jezabelle.” Jezabelle? Like the slut? I immediately picked up the cat and took it home. It felt like a magnificent idea at the time. I renamed the cat Bella (no, not Twilight Bella, JezaBELLE-kinda Bella) and went to sleep. I woke up at 7am and thought about how strange my dreams were until I rolled over and found a cat staring me deeply in the eyes. Fuck.

Bella can breakdance