My leg bone is connected to my foot bone, my foot bone is connected to your face bone, your face bone's connected to the pavement stone. Now heed my words: Fuck off!"

I was thinking (as do from time-to-time) about some things that piss me off and really get my bloody boiling.  So, I decided to make this list to share with you Plonkers to see if we have any similarities:

• When people say 'Life is Short'. What? Um, no it isn’t. It’s the longest damn thing you’ll ever do, FuckKnob 
• When I am waiting in line for the bus and some idiot asks, “hey did the bus come yet?” “Yes, and I decided to stay here and let you know that you missed it, ButtHead.” 
• Pretty girls who bemoan about how pretty they are, because oh gosh darn it, it’s such a hassle to beat off dozens of swooning guys. Seriously, shut the fuck up, Bitch. 
• Un-sweetened chocolate. Why? Why the shite would they do that? Is it some cruel joke? It doesn’t matter, just stop making it that way. 
• I can go weeks without having to log in to anything. The wonders of computer magic. It usually remembers my passwords for me.  Fancy that? Then out of the blue. It forgets. Oh Pish! I don’t frikken remember! 
• Trying to suppress a sneeze when you have diarrhea.
• It pisses me off that anytime I sit down to eat a meal, my two girl-children feel the need to call me.  Can they not talk to me when I'm IN the same room?  You have two parents.  Call yer Dad
• Slow people. Those Plonkers who take their damn sweet time doing everything. Who moves at the pace of a crippled nun?
• Those douchenozzles who brag about their skinny genes. They don’t just show off their waif-like waists, they have to constantly emphasize that they eat a lot but 'can’t gain weight'. They always say things like “Oh my god, I am so stuffed, I had a whole Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake for lunch!” while they pat their inverted bellies, and yet the only trace of fattening items I’ve seen them eat is a handful of nuts. Unsalted and dry-roasted, of course.

Persevere Plonker

The A to Z Challenge is on its way downhill now and today is the letter P.  My theme remains Motto versus Insults.

The Motto for P is

Perseverence

I strive to continue to achieve goals that I set for myself.  I don't set huge unrealistic goals, I set small goals.  It works better for me when I set bite-size goals.  tt doens't seem as difficult to hang in there and achieve them when they are smaller.  Failure is less likely to happen and I believe that all those bite-sized goals will add up and before you know it you've achieved way more than what you excpected.  Even when difficulties creep in and things are not going your way, it is your perserverence that helps you carry on and push through. 

When I feel like quitting, I have a saying "This too shall Pass" and it always does. 

Not everything will go according to your timetable, not everything will go as you planned but hang in there and things will get better.  Don't give up. Persevere.

My Insult for today is

Plonker

The term plonker started out as a reference to someone who was forever drunk on cheap wine (cheap wine is nicknamed plonk) this person was usualy a homeless person, or poor person.  Today the term plonker is a very light hearted insult. Its not even seen as an insult, its like calling someone a wally. Its in no way ment maliciously. you call someone a plonker when they say or do something stupid. On my blog I call my Followers, Plonkers, affectionately of course.

Prank a Plonker or Two

With April Fools Day coming up very soon, 4 more sleepies!  I have a few ideas for you Plonkers to try on your family, friends or colleagues.  Oh I do love a good prank.

Do you have a ceiling fan with an overhead light that your victim turns on using a pull cord? Trick them by substituting a fake pull cord attached to a cup of confetti balanced on top of the fan blade. Most fan cords detach which will make this easy to set up, otherwise use a substitute cord and tuck the real cord out of sight. They will pull the cord and get a big surprise! Booyakasha

This one I'm actually going to try.  I've set it up just waiting for the nail polish to dry and find a unsuspecting victim.  *evil chuckle*.  Find a bottle of nail polish that you don't mind emptying out, get a piece of wax paper and drip the nail polish out.  Wait for it to dry and peel the wax paper off and voila.  Time to set it up for your victim to be pissed off you ruined her new coffee table or desk.

Replace the hand lotion in your victim's lotion bottle with mayonnaise.

Get a long spool of ribbon. Tie one end to your victims doorknob with a little note that says "Follow the Ribbon." Then wind the ribbon all around their room, bed, desk, even all over the house. At the end of the ribbon, attach a note that says "April Fools!"

Offer to make a sandwich for the victim. But don't remove the wrapper from the slice of cheese. When they bite down they'll get a chewy surprise.

This one is fucking tops if you have computer users in the office!

Use Windows Task Scheduler to send your victim mysterious messages. Many people aren't even aware of this program so they won't know where the messages are coming from or how to turn them off. To set them up on Windows 7: Go to Start; All Programs; Accessories; System Tools; Task Scheduler. When the program pops up, click on "Create Task" and in the "General" tab, give the task a name and description. Then click the "Triggers" tab, click "New," and select how often you want your message to pop up (I recommend every 5 minutes), and when you want the task to start and end. Lastly, click the "Actions" tab, click "New," and choose "Display a message." Type your message in the box below. You could simply put "April Fools!" or write "Ha Ha, you're a Fucknob!", or whatever you prefer to do. Click OK. At the specified times, your messages will pop up. NOTE: To reverse your prank, click the task name box for the message you created. To delete it, double-click on it and then look on the right hand side of the screen for "delete." It may not disappear unless you refresh it.
Now go and plan some priceless pranks on your favourite Plonkers and let me know how it goes.

My Fantabuloso Followers

Mr Knowitall and Nitebyrd were kind enough to send me pictures of their Daft Scots Lass Tattoos (the trick is to actually wear them G-Man!).  They will be featured forever under the Prize Plonkers tab at the top of my bloggy.


Thanx again, guys

Nitebyrd: Taken 12/03/2011 at The 16th Annual Buzz Bake Sale in West Palm Beach, Florida.
The Bake Sale was an all day rock concert with all the bands listed on the card propped in front of the beer!  Me and the tattoo had a fabulous time!

G-Man showing me his "Term of endearment"

Why are all the skinny, attractive girls Bitches?

So, Plonkers if you’re skinny and hot and don’t think you’re a Bitch, then you probably are! 

Offended?  Well, sorry but in most of my experiences slim, pretty girls know they are attractive and they fucking milk it. They milk it to the point of being a complete and utter narcissistic Bitch (but don't have the balls to be open about it) 

The Pretty Girl always seems to get away with murder and continuously gets the best seat on the bus.  

The Pretty Skinny Girl get drinks bought for them at bars – all night by strangers - creepy boys that are too scared to approach them and admire from afar.

The Pretty Girl bats her eyelashes, flashes as coy smile and catches almost any guy to do practically anything for her.

The Pretty Girl always laughs at your jokes no matter how pathetic, not because she wants to impress you, but because she doesn’t want to admit that she doesn’t “get it”.

The Pretty Skinny Girls don't have to try too hard, she doesn’t have to strike up intelligent conversation and sustain it for more than a simple rehearsed one-liner that her asshole-of-a-brother has drummed into her since she grew titties. 

The Pretty Skinny Girl doesn’t have to try too hard to get a bloke to be interested in her. The blokes she attracts already have her perched so high on a pedestal because of her looks.  The only Plonkers brave enough to come over are the arrogant assholes.

How BANGIN would it be to convince The Pretty Skinny Girls that slapping each other’s faces is the new high-five?

The Pretty Girl expects expensive presents and in turn they treat their men like dog shite. The poor bastards only stick around because she looks good on his arm at parties.  Doesn't everyone  stop to stare when the hot, handsome couple enter a room?

The Pretty Skinny Girl smiles sweetly to your face and the second you turn your back, she is rolling her eyes and pulling up her lip into a conceited sneer. Perhaps she thinks that bringing other people down will keep her on top?

The Pretty Skinny Girl thinks she’s all that and a bag 'o chips, but its only 50% of what she’s got and 50% what people think she’s got.

The Pretty Girl surrounds herself with girlfriends that aren't quite so attractive as she is, so she’ll always get first choice when it comes to pretty much anything.

The Pretty Skinny Girls are like the blind leading the blind. They have this unwavering admiration of their own beauty. They taken endless selfies, stare at photographs of themselves and kiss the glossy paper with their glittered pink lip gloss and display it on their photo pin board and draw a heart around it.

The Pretty Girl will steal your shine on your wedding day and ask the photographer for copies of her photos, because she reckons she looks cuter than the bride. She probably does - but, hello! It’s not your fucking day, Bitch!

The Pretty Skinny Girl says “I’m not a snob, ask anyone! Well, anyone who matters”.

The Pretty Girl likes to talk about herself constantly when on a date but not as much as she likes to talk about the inadequacies of others. Sad thing is, men pretend to listen but all they hear is "Oh Em Gee, blah blah blah blah blah", and are thinking, I wonder if she’ll put out after three drinks - or should I push it to four?  Four will guarantee me some leg-over for sure!

Och well....as my dad always says: "It's nice to be nice".  

But I prefer my motto, which is;  screw the shallow pretty, skinny chicks, deep down they’re all riddled with insecurities.

Chubby is the new Skinny, right?

A Daft Scots Lass and her Big Sista

Mid-week Hormonal Rant

Most of us really try to be nice.  However, nice is boring and little sunbeams are easy to be around, but they annoy the shit outta me.

Blame it on hormones, but these irritations tend to become fixtures and will always rear their ugly little heads.  I therefore climb up on my wee blog platform, so get ready with the list of things that drive me fucking insane.

Address me as M’am and I might just bite yer fucking head off.

I could really have heart failure when someone calls me Deary or Lovie or better yet M’am.  I’m not your lovie, dearie, sweetie and I most definitely am NOT your fucking M’am.  Did I not just tell you my name when I answered my phone?  Call me by my name, demmit.  My mum thought long and hard about that name for me – use it! 

I get the frikken hiebiejiebies when someone tries to cold call me for better insurance or life cover and they start reading a script from a piece of paper.  You can hear it straight away!  You can’t fool me, Fuckers.  I love to throw these kind of telesales people off their rhythm by asking dumb questions so that they loose their place on their script sheet.  Oh I know I’m wicked.  Sometimes I interrupt them to tell them to Bugger off but when I feel like really pissing them off, I hold the phone by my ear while they ramble off their prepared schpeel and they are left parched and waiting for answers. I love to announce after 10 minutes that I’m not interested.  Telesales is the worst job EVA!

“Free Gifts”.  Pleeeeeeeez!

What gift is NOT free?

Take a second and THINK about that one…

Just say “gift”, finished and klaar.  Why do marketers try to come in the back door and schmooz us with this Free Gift story?  Cosmetic houses are famous for this.  Buy R200 worth of products and get a free gift.  Then its not free it is?  It’s a bonus.  This urks me when I see the TV commercials coming on telly with the flash in the corner of the screen and the cheesy bloke announces “But… that’s not all…if you call now….” Urgh!  Can I just beat you to a pulp right here and now?

Oh! And those 22 kg anorexic bitches that nibble on a cracker and complain bitterly that they are so fat and that they really need to lose weight.  Come girlie, I’ll show you what a fat arse looks like.  Just put on yer thong bikini and stop whining that your hip bones aren’t protruding enough yet.  I instantly HATE you.

Ex Smokers are the worst.  They want to lecture me on the risks of smoking and what methods they used to stop and how long they have been nicotine free.  They pull their nose up when someone within a 30 feet radius lights up.  They fan themselves to keep the fumes moving in another direction or peg their nose and say “urgh”.  Please don’t try and save me.  Its my choice.  I’m killing myself.  So stop inhaling the fucking smoke I paid for!

How about the people who always have a story better than yours?  The kind that if you’ve been hi-jacked, they’ve been shot in the head, twice!  If you’ve got a headache, they’ve got a flippen migraine.  The know-it-all who is full of facts and never ceases to flap their lips incessantly and let spew out all over the conversation at EVERY opportunity.  I have a name for these guys - Wankers.  What makes them so superior?  Like they are doing us a favour by being put here on the planet to out-do us – every time? These are the plonkers that always have to have the last word not matter what.

Isn’t it amazing how much better we feel after a good rant?  Now I’m gonna have a cuppa caffine, with a fag and I’m gonna read all your comments about your gripes.

Ready?

Steady?

Go!

Wot a Plonker!

I got Kaylin all prepped and ready to go back to school today, new bag, all her toiletries and a lunch box filled with nutritional snacks.  She was so excited to be seeing her little friends and teachers again after being at home for three weeks.

We got there this morning and...... the gates were closed, everything was locked up.

Boy, did I feel like a fucking idiot.  I always seem to get it wrong!  Why do I NEVER read the shit-arse memos? 

Thing is, I looked all over the house yesterday for a newsletter to find out when the exact date that school is re-opening.  I couldn't find anything, I sent a text a fellow mum who also said she thought it was today.  I looked on their website and I have emailed the principal. 

What else can a Mum do? Oh the boring mediocrity of being a SAHM. 

I guess I should've kept the newsletter from last year.  Must've been all that bullshit called clearing out and spring cleaning during the holidays.

I guess we'll have to try again tomorrow.