So You Think You Can Vlog?

Yes, But Can He Dance?

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.

So You Think You Can Vlog?

So You Think You Can Vlog?

The Answers to all your burning questions...

Here they are...

 

Walkin in Heels *Vloggity Vlog*

Firstly, Happy Mother's Day to all the brilliant mums and MILFs out there in Bloggerville.  

I hope you have a wonderful day and that you get spoiled absa lootly rotten.

Secondly, some of you Plonkers wanted to know if I can walk in five and a half inch heels....

 

So You Think You Can Vlog?

A Daft Scots Lass vlogs about The Homemakers Expo, A to Z Blog Challenge, a tartan handbag and Toffee.

'Tis the Season to be Daft

So, the end of the world didn't happen. What an anti-climax, eh? Fa-la-la-la-la La-la-la-falafel

Christmas Vlog

This time last year I was busy vlogging up a storm.

I think I may do another Christmassy blog this year, just for shits and giggles.

So in the meantime here's last year's version of 12 Days of Christmas

So You Think You Can Vlog?

Vloggity Vlog Interrupted and Daily Blog Features.

Call Me Maybe

How to get to the Cheerleading Nationals

We took a 2½ hour drive to Orkney to support my best friends kids in the Cheerleading Nationals. 

It was great fun but fucking freezing!!!  The wind was howling but that didn't put us off.  Nothing that a hot chocolate couldn't fix.

Quaint wee shops along the way

"Flippen Lekker Kos", translated means Flippen Great Food! 

The Stadium and The SA Flag

Quad

Some of us wrapped up warm

Some of the couples stunts

Flap Props

Couples Stunts

Stunts

Prize Giving

So You Think You Can Vlog?

So You Think You Can Vlog?

Vlog Me Baby!

Vlogity Vlogin

A Daft Scots Lass Vlogs

BlogFestivus and the 12th Day of Christmas

One the 12th Day of Christmas my true love sent to me...

... Twelve Drummers Drumming.

Welcome to the final day of the 12 Days of Christmas Blog Challenge, Plonkers! 

For the last day, I wanted to find something that comes in dozens - it was either eggs, or doughnuts. And because I craved jammy doughnuts when I was pregnant with Megan, and they come in dozens - so jam doughnuts it is!


What a BANGIN BlogFestivus is has been!  

Huge props go out to Blogdramedy for hosting the 12 Days of Christmas Blogfest. I've enjoyed it, thoroughly.  I've enjoyed how in the first few days it started as one thing, and landed up twisting into something completely whack-a-doodle!  I've enjoyed reading all the over participant's submissions and I must admit mine has been second rate compared to their talents.  

I've picked up some new Bloggers to follow from it and I can't wait to read more.

For your amusement, here is my daft, full version of 12 Days of Christmas.



"12 Jammy Doughnuts
11 Soccer Hotties
10 Seasons of Big Bang Theory
9 Inch Vibrating Dildo
8 Shots of Botox
7 Priceless Plonkers
6 Penguin Biscuits
5 Gigs of Porn
4 Liverpool Blokes
3 Brontë Sisters
2 Jimmy Choos
And Jamie Oliver’s Satay Chicken on a Stick"






Don't forget that we're back on track with Caption My Daft Photo Competition tomorrow.  I have a cracker for you beautiful Plonkers!

I murdered a House Plant Vlog

If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back?

"On Ma Blog" performed by A Daft Scots Lass

Yesterday afternoon we decided to shoot and produce a wee family music video after listening to this song in the car we came up with the On Ma Blog fingers, like typing on a keyboard, and the idea was born! 

I laughed my fuckin' arse off watching this shite.

Daft personified!

You Always Get One Fucker, Don't You?

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that this is one of my regular sayings.  I use it all the time because its fucking true! 

Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, you always get ONE FUCKER who cocks things up for everyone.  Generally you don’t know  The Fucker personally, but he or she always shows up and never fails to piss on your battery.  Here are a few of them:

Fucker #1

On Sunday during the Pipe Band’s performance, my big sis and I were clapping loud, seat-dancing and not too shabbily singing along to the songs they were playing.  (Hell, we knew all the words and that’s just how we roll, Plonkers) and this guy and his wife who were sitting in front of us turns around and gives us a dirty look -as if to say “shut the fuck up”. 

Now, firstly, I know that South Africans are generally really conservative and its just “not cool” to show that you’re having a good time.  (Never understood this) But Janie and I on the other hand, couldn’t give a rats arse what other people think as long as we’re having a good time. 

Secondly, I felt like saying to the pair of them:  "Listen, we paid our R358 just like you two planks to be here, at least I’M going to enjoy it.  Now OFF is the general direction I want you two to Fuck, okay?"

Fucker #2

This prissy middle-aged "kloosterkoek" woman who stands behind you in the supermarket checkout queue with her crisp starched floral blouse and khaki long shorts.  Oh you know the Bitch I’m talking about;  she wears fugly sensible shoes, dyes her poofy hair Fake-Red and completes the look with jarring cheap coral lipstick bought at Clicks.  The Tannie takes one look at all your tattoos, rolls her eyes and shakes her head in extreme disapproval.  Don’t you just want to roar out at top volume;  “Hey, Fucker, its my body I’ll do what the fuck I like with it and I certainly don’t need YOUR approval” and stick my pierced tongue out at her and tell her to Piss off.  That’ll shut her up.

Fucker #3

This Plonker normally emerges in the traffic.  He drives a stolen 3-series BMW and puts M3 badges on it.  He drives with his right elbow perched on his open window, plays his doef-doef dance music too loud through his distorted speakers and wears tacky flea-market shades.  He thinks he’s uber cool and owns the road!  Koos usually indignantly swerves in front of you, cutting YOU off, missing YOUR car by mere millimeters and throws YOU the finger.  A complete arsehole, but this Dude should not be taken on.  He’ll kill his own mother for a fag.

Fuckers #4

Another Fucker found in the traffic, but this one is usually a dittery wee gray-haired lady who does about 40kph in the traffic in the fast lane.  She can hardly see over the steering wheel and is a bout 90 in the shade.  Granny drives a gleaming 1980’s  Volvo Station wagon which she lets the Garden Executive wash and polish on Sunday afternoon, when she gets back from church.  Nana Oxygen Thief will NOT budge from the fast lane not matter what happens and is utterly oblivious to what kind of havoc she is causing by being over-cautious.  She lets in every taxi in front of her but in fact she’s just causing rush-hour mayhem. My Road Rage with Miss Daisy kicks in rapidly but no throwing rude signs or cutting her off will help, because she can’t see more than 30 feet in front of her and she’s clinically deaf. I'd tell her to go to hell but I work there every day and I don't really wanna see her every day!

Fucker #5

The brainless blonde will probably be bopping to Britney Spears on her car radio in the traffic and thinks she’s saving time by doing her make up on the way to work in her rear-view mirror.  Barbie will gradually veer into your lane while applying mascara and when you toot at her and tell her to keep to her own fucking lane, she will try to make it all better by blowing you a kiss and being soopa sweet. Then she’ll mouth “I’m sorry” while texting her boyfriend what just happened.  Getting angry with this nonsensical creative is also a waste of your time.  The insults you hurl at her she will most probably misinterpret for giving her a compliment about her huge tits or her long, freshly manicured-in-the-car nails. After telling her that your intrinsic suaveness cancels out her natural douchiness, this Bimbo Fucker will then happily skip off back to her little pink Chevvy Spark and wheel spin (by mistake) off into the distance.

Oh there are plenty more Fuckers I could talk about but I think 5 is enough for one day so, be careful whose toes you step on today, Mr Fucker, they might be attached to the arse you’ll  have to kiss tomorrow.