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Lawnmower vs electric fence…


Occasionally a pearler manages to break through the hordes of random emails. This would be one of them. Have a read and a chuckle: the lawnmower vs the electric fence.

We have the standard 6 ft. fence in the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence.

Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 ft. into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works.

One day I’m mowing the back yard with my cheapo Wal-Mart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.

It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.

Now I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.

Time stood still.

The first thing I notice is my penis trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine.

It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of crap lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you’re all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together. It was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.

At this point I’m about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can’t let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences. But Dad always had those piece of crap chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.

This one I could not let go of. The 8 ft. long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.

‘Damn!,’ I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!

Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest, I think ‘Oh God please die… Pleeeeaze die’. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.

So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day. He left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.

I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire.

I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned.

There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire.

Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:

  1. Three of the fillings in my teeth have melted.
  2. I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).
  3. Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
  4. My left eye will not open.
  5. My right eye will not close.
  6. The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
  7. My testicles are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.
  8. I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don’t understand this???).

That day changed my life. I now have a newfound respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.

The good news is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.


Thanks Uncle!

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Mistress contract…


Yeah okay, this one seems to be getting flagged due to a couple of choice words in the text. So I’m gonna remove it from the front page and add a ‘jump’ link at the start of the article-proper for those who wanna ‘ave a read.

Rather amusing, in an offensive kinda way. Because offensive is funny (kinda like this quick spot of side-tracking to bring you another Failbook pearler before we continue:)

Fatty self esteem Failbook

But I digress. On with the contract:

Continue reading Mistress contract…

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Spud: The movie – trailer…


Sweet! The hilarious book Spud has been made into a movie and is coming in November 2010! Here’s the trailer:

John Cleese as ‘The Guv’… that’s gonna be classic. Can’t wait.

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Gran Turismo 5 trailer…


Gran Turismo 5 PS3 Cover

On 2 November 2010 I will be out of the office. Why? Because that’s the day that Gran Turismo 5 is released on PS3. Granted that means I’ll probably have to actually buy a PS3 by then, but hey -- it’s still far away. There’s time to get saving. Who needs groceries or petrol anyway?

This is why:

Vroom!

Gran Turismo 5

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To all those who thought South Africa wouldn’t be ready for the World Cup…


So we’re a mere six days from kick off (see what I did there?) of the eagerly-awaited 2010 FIFA World Cup. It has been a looong road getting to this point, with the country trying its darndest to get every aspect required by FIFA (and just what the Hell is FIFA’s problem anyway?) ready in time, whilst all the while having to deal with all the naysayers and their constant whining… i.e.

  • “Ooohhh it’s going to be a disaster. The country can’t pull this off”;
  • ”Everybody even considering coming to South Africa for the tournament is going to be instantly murdered in their beds by roaming machete gangs” (we have the ever-creative British tabloid press to thank for this pearler);
  • “There’s no way FIFA won’t come to their senses and move the tournament to some other 1st world country”; and of course…
  • “The power/water/infrastructure/hotels/roads/hippies won’t be able to cope”.

To all of them, allow me to express my heartfelt reply:

f-you hands

That’s what’s up. We’re ready. The stadiums are finished, the International Broadcast Centre is ready (so you can watch from your igloo in Outer Whereverthef@ck), the Gautrain has its permit and opens on Tuesday, the teams have started arriving and all the cool matches are sold out. Hell, there’s even a big-ass ferris wheel at the V&A Waterfront – just because we can.

So f@ck you and your whiny expat moaning. Go take your frostbitten ass outside and shovel some of that nice safe Canadian snow clogging your driveway; and to the other half: throw another shrimp on the barbie. Mate.

This whole place is gonna be the mother of all parties for the next month with some top class sport happening in some top class stadiums.

Note: Of course I was a sleg moer and never got my shit together in time – I don’t have tickets to any of the matches I wanted to attend. Boohoo for me – I took too long. Unrucky. But hey, I got a nice new PVR, and the Fan Fests are pretty close, so I’m sorted.

Where my World Cup at?

Ayoba.

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Oi you lot! Stop clogging the FIFA site!


Coming soon to South Africa...

Coming soon to South Africa...

Okes, c’mon! I’m desperately trying to get my tickets for the nearly-upon-us 2010 FIFA World Cup (seeing as FIFA released 90 000 more tickets – available from this morning) but YOU lot – yes YOU – are clogging up the FIFA ticketing site and now it’s not working so well.

This is in clear violation of my RIGHT to tickets to the final, and sommer the opening game too, so do me a favour: Everyone (you too) log off the interweb, go grab something to eat, and gimme an hour to get sorted. Mmmkay? That cool?

Schweet.

Good on ya.

2010 FIFA World Cup

Image via Wikipedia

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Nike Football - 'Write the future' commercial...


I really don’t know what to say… other than: “Wow! Best. Ad. Ever.”

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Greyson Chance completely and utterly OWNS Lady Gaga...


And this is how a viral post is created…

Some kid named Greyson Chance (Youtube: greyson97, Twitter: @greyson97) posted a clip of himself playing the piano and singing Lady Gaga’s “Paparazzi” at some or other school function. Cue more than 8 million views in just over two weeks. Can you say “record deal”?

One site even titled a posting of this clip as: “13 year-old boy rocks the crap out of a Lady Gaga cover”. Kinda sums it up neatly right there. See for yourself:

Not too shabby. I taught him that by the way. What, you weren’t aware that I’m a concert pianist and celebrated lounge singer as well as South Africa’s best blogger? You DO realise that I am personally responsible for many things you take for granted, right? Take the common lightbulb for starters. Edison Schmedison. I got sick and tired of stoopid-ass candles burning my stuff. That’s right.

How about the common Aglet? “Huh?” I hear you mutter. That, my friends, is the correct term for the tip of a shoelace. “Aaaahhhh yes, this guy is well smart, innit?” I hear you purr adoringly. You thought it was a “flugelbinder”, didn’t you? Now how would I know that if I wasn’t personally responsible for allowing each and every one of you to conveniently lace your shoes up every morning? Except for you Crocs-wearers of course. No laces AND ugly-ass shoes. F@ck you and your plastic foot covers!

But anyway, back to the point: the other two clips this musically-gifted lad has uploaded are both sitting at over 1 million views each -- one two weeks old, the other only one week old.

In fact… seems like a winning formula. Watch this space for a clip of yours truly crooning away shortly. You might wanna invest in a couple of industrial-strength earplugs. Just a thought.


UPDATE: The very next day…

Told you this clip had gone PROPERLY viral -- in the mere 17 hours hours since I first saw this clip it has received a further 2.2 million views on Youtube! May have something to do in part with all the big-shots like @TheEllenShow and @RyanSeacrest tweeting about him. You can’t buy that kinda publicity!

Also, you lot need to check out the Greyson trending topic on Twitter - all the Justin Bieber fans are getting very uppity and whiny at the inevitable comparisons people are drawing between the two. Very amusing!

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Stu's take on... Humpty Dumpty


Humpty Dumpty

Nursery rhymes piss me off. First up: That salmonella-spreading scrambled-ass mofo who can’t sit upright on a wall for three seconds without having a spectacular wipeout FAIL: Humpty Dumpty.

In the words of Run DMC (or Jason Nevins – can never remember who said what in that b-grade 90s treffer)… It goes a little something like this:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

So where do we begin with this one? Firstly: overall. It has always been known that Humpty Dumpty is an egg. Where exactly in the rhyme does it mention that he is in fact an egg? Nowhere, that’s where. So why the hell is he always portrayed as an egg? Who had far too many crack sandwiches for lunch and postulated that one? “Some dude chilling out on a wall. I know – I’ll bet he’s an egg!” Riiiiiight, no more brannas & Coke for this doos.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

Okay, let’s assume that he is actually an egg. Why the f@ck was an egg sitting on a wall in the first place? FAIL farming 101: leaving eggs on the wall. Of course the rotund f@ck had a great fall – no egg cup. Duh!

All the king’s horses…

No thumbs! Did nobody notice that horses do NOT have thumbs? How the frickety frick frick is an overpaid donkey supposed to put an EGG back together with big-ass hooves? “Whinny! Neigh! I got this piece!” STOMP! “My bad. Ooohhh that’s gonna leave a mark. Here, lemme try this piece over here.” STOMP! “Oh for f@ck sakes. Bollocks to it all. I’m off to schnack on some grass and ghoen that fine-looking filly over there in the meadow. You know, the one with the tramp-brand on her side and the slapper eyes”. Gallop gallop gallop…

And all the king’s men…

So this is medieval England / Europe / Somewhere Uppity in the age of swords, axes and assorted other stabby things, and the king’s ENTIRE army has nothing better to do than piece together a single egg. Seriously? Plus, how exactly would an entire army gather around one single egg to solve this mess? “Hey Bob, ummm… yeah, you seem to be on the case, so ummm… myself, Harold, Frik and the rest of the 4 000 lads will ummm… stand guard I guess. Carry on, as you were and all that. Oh, and watch out for that clumsy-ass horse stomping around all over the place.”

“Aaaahhhhh!!! The Barbarians are invading!”
“Sorry boet, can’t help you – we’re all busy fixing an egg.”

“Aaaahhhhh!!! The Mongol hordes have broken through our defences!”
“Unlucky cuzzin, we’re still working here. Try pelting them with eggshells. Just not these ones, mmmkay?”

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

Well then, not much use, are you lot? An entire kingdom defeated by an egg. Well done lads! Good luck defending your empire from an angry, and mildly ambitious, rasher of bacon.

FAIL.

Who writes this kak anyway?

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The A-Team movie: minus Mr T... say it isn't so!!!


Mr T as BA Baracus

I pity the fool...

The A-Team has been made into a movie, but seeing as the original crew has a combined age of approximately 840 years, it’s all new faces. See what I did there? “Face”? No? Nevermind. Sigh…

That’s right -- BA Baracus is NOT played by Mr T. Neither are any of the other team members of course, but the loss of Mr T just feels the most wrong in some way. I mean, when I was a kid I had the little BA toy and everything!

It’s just not gonna be quite the same, now is it?

Take a look at the trailer and decide for yourself:

And?

Mr T as BA Baracus

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