A Man Walks Into a Bar....

We've all done it....we've all had a drink or five and when its time to go home, our pals say to us "Are you okay to drive?" and the answer when we've had too many bevvies is :  "I'm fiiiiiine!!".

We become invincible, we become arrogant, we loose our inhibitions and think we are Superman.

Firstly this is NOT a sponsored post.  

Did  you know?  Research indicates that 50% of people who die on South African roads, are over the legal blood alcohol level?  That's HALF!  That's a frikken scary stats, Plonkers!

The legal limit for alcohol in the blood is 0.05gms per 100mls and the breath alcohol content limit is 0.24mls per 1000mls.  And did you know, it is illegal to refuse a blood test or breathalyser in South Africa?

If a driver is prosecuted and it is not proven that the alcohol content is less than 0.05 grams per 100 milliliters, it is assumed that the blood-alcohol level is over this limit. If convicted of a drink driving offence, the driver loses their licence for a minimum period and a hefty fine can also be issued.

So, wouldn't you rather have Scooter Angels on speed dial?

Two “Angels” are dispatched to your location within an hour of calling. One of them will drive you home safely in the comfort of your own vehicle, while the other follows to collect the designated driver afterwards. 

Could it be more simple? and safe!

Scooter Angels are in Joburg, Pretoria, Cape Town and Durban. 

Give them a ring when you need a sober driver!

Things I wish I was good at

Here are a few things I wish I was a whole lot better at doing: 

Movie Crying. Behold, a few delicate tears adorning a cheek. Instead, with me it’s The Ugy Cry. The blotchy, unmitigated werewolf’s howl and snotty sobbing. So not sexy!


Interacting with teenagers. No, I do NOT want to listen to your fucking awful Rihanna remix on a tinny cellphone or watch a video clip of Bieber swishing his hair again. Awkward.

Discovering a great book before everyone else does.

Being a charming, carefree drunk, rather than the drunk who decides this is the best time to bring up deep-seated emotional issues and beastly sneers.  "Dronk verdriet" is not pretty.

Which leads me neatly into The Hangover Paranoia that I might’ve made an utter fucking idiot of myself the night before.   To be fair though, its usually because I have thinking I can sing like Celine Dion and dancelike J.Lo.  The photos tell a different story.

Overcoming our inner cheapskate and ditching that two-year-old favourite mascara, or stubby lipstick from a decade ago. Hey, you never know when you might need gold shimmer lipstick.  I'm a Scot I hate having to spend my hard earned cash.


Maintaining the matching underwear level of effort in a relationship.   A year in, we’re happy to sit in front of him and devour so much food that we break a sweat and then cock yer leg to fart.

Showing restraint at the complementary bar at a wedding. There WILL be photos and I WILL look like a savage clutching both an entire bottle of wine and one glass while singing Tina Turner karaoke!

Customising clothes. No Trinny and Susannah, I do not look “fierce”. I look like I’ve subject to stuff to a massacre.  I'll stick to the classic look.

Not looking up his ex on Facebook, cackling like an old whore when she looks terrible and fat; and then spiraling into deep gloom and despair when she looks glamorous and soopa skinny. Biatch!

A DIY French manicure. Firstly I’d love nails (I chew), secondly it would look like I’d dipped my fingertips in Tippex.

Wise-owl life-changing pearls of wisdom. Our favourite gems? “You look great with a fringe”, “There’s more fish in the sea” and “Just get an overdraft”.

Don't forget to go and enter this week's Caption My Freak Photo #11 by clicking HERE

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