so bietjie Brakpan humor!

Oktober 16, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

A Brakpan girl goes
to Home Affairs to register for child benefits.
“How many children?” asks the assessor
“Ten” replies the Brakpan girl
“Ten?” exclaims the Home Affairs worker. “What are their
names?”
“Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie, Kosie and
Kosie”
“Doesn’t that get confusing?”
“Naah” says the Brakpan girl. “It’s great, because if they are
out playing
in the street I just have to shout Kosie, YOUR SUPPER’S READY or Kosie GO TO BED NOW and they all do it…”
“What if you want to speak to one individually?” says the perturbed
Home Affairs worker.
“That’s easy,” says the Brakpan girl. “I just use their
surnames!”



laaste weke….

Oktober 15, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

This year has
only
 12
weeks left.
Have you seriously thought of that?


It means:


·
12 more working Mondays
·
3 more salary cheques
·
3 more working months
·
12 weeks to plan where you will be, come New Year
·
12 more weekends

Oh Ja
,in  12 more weeks, another year gone & still poor.























 
 









 



To all my Chommies ,Cuzzies & Crazies





May your happiness increase like the petrol price,
May your sorrows fall like the Zim dollar
,

And


may joy fill your heart like corruption in South Africa






H
AVE A FABULOUS LAST 12 WEEKs of 2012!!!


FYI

Oktober 12, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Sex life
and Coca-Cola

 





















             

Two friends
meet after many years …

They talk about their past life …


One asks the other:

– And how’s your sex life?? ….



– Same As Coca-Cola …….



– Oh great! …. Full of bubbles, eh?! ….



Nothing like that! ..


Before
it was ‘NORMAL’,
then it became ‘LIGHT’,
and now it is ‘ZERO’ !

*giggel*

Oktober 11, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Cat Lover or Not, this is
hysterical!

We’ve all had trouble with our animals, but I don’t think anyone can top this
one:
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my
excuse, I always get the feeling that my boss thinks I’m lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway, because the truth
was just too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head
injury, and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day.
By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on the top
of my head.
The accident occurred mainly because I had given in to my wife’s wishes to
adopt a cute little kitty. Initially, the new acquisition was no problem. Then
one morning, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb,
call out to me from the kitchen. “Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again.
Please come reset it.”
“You know where the button is,” I protested through the shower
pitter-patter and steam. “Reset it yourself!”
“But I’m scared!” she persisted. “What if it starts going and
sucks me in?”
There was a meaningful pause and then, “C’mon, it’ll only take you a
second.”
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping that my silent outraged
nudity would make a statement about how I perceived her behavior as extremely
cowardly. Sighing loudly, I squatted down and stuck my head under the sink to
find the button. It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, and without any respect to my circumstances. No, it
wasn’t the hexed disposal, drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our
new kitty, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects she spied hanging
between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I
reached under the sink. And, at the precise moment when I was most vulnerable,
she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her
needle-like claws.
I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, blindly rising
at a violent rate of speed, with the full weight of a kitten hanging from my
masculine region. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or
flight” syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the
“flight” option. I know this
from experience. I was fleeing straight up into the air when the sink and
cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded my ascent. The impact knocked me out
cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Now there are not many
things in this life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor buck
naked in front of a group of “been-there, done-that” paramedics. Even
worse, having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting
loudly as they tried to conduct their work, all the while trying to suppress
their hysterical laughter…..and not succeeding. Somehow I lived through it
all.
A few days later I finally made it back to the office, where colleagues tried
to coax an explanation out of me about my head injury I kept silent, claiming
it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
“What’s the matter?” They all asked, “Cat got your tongue?”
If they only knew!
Why is it that only the women laugh at this?

selfoon etiket…..

Oktober 10, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Na ‘n besige dag sak ‘n moeë pendelaar op die Gautrein in
haar sitplek
neer en maak haar oë toe terwyl die trein uit Sandton vertrek op pad
Hatfield toe.
Net nadat die trein uit die stasie is, pluk ‘n passasier langs haar sy
selfoon uit en begin hardop praat.
“Hallo Duifie, dis Erik, ek is op die trein skatlam. Ja ek weet dis
reeds halfses en nie halfvier nie, maar ek was in ‘n baie lang
vergadering. Nee, ek is nie saam met daardie flerrie van die kantoor
nie, ek sê jou mos ek is op die trein.
“Nee, ek belowe jou daar is niemand anders in my lewe nie – ja, jy’s
die enigste . . .” en so karring Erik aan en aan vir nog vyftien
minute.
Dan besluit die moeë pendelaar langs hom sy het nou genoeg gehad van
sy luide aanhoudende stem, en skree hardop: “Erik, sit nou neer
daardie telefoon en kom terug bed toe!”

NB. Erik gebruik deesdae nie meer sy selfoon in die publiek nie.





Het jy geweet?

Oktober 9, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

   Who knew?





















Did you know that Colgate Toothpaste makes an
excellent salve for burns?





Sore throat? Just mix 1/4 cup of vinegar with
1/4 cup of honey and take 1 tablespoon six times a day The vinegar kills the
bacteria.



Cure urinary tract infections with Alka-Seltzer.
Just dissolve two tablets in a glass of water and drink it at the onset of the
symptoms. Alka-Seltzer begins eliminating urinary tract infections almost
instantly-even though the product was never advertised for this use.


Honey remedy for skin blemishes…… Cover the
blemish with a dab of honey and place a Band-Aid over it. Honey kills the
bacteria, keeps the skin sterile, and speeds healing. Works overnight.



Listerine therapy for toenail fungus: Get rid of unsightly
toenail fungus by soaking your toes in Listerine
Mouthwash. The powerful antiseptic leaves your
toenails looking healthy again.



Easy eyeglass protection… To prevent the screws in
eyeglasses from loosening, apply a small drop of Maybelline Crystal Clear Nail
Polish to the threads of the screws before tightening them.



Smart splinter remover: Just pour a drop of
Elmer’s Glue-All over the splinter, let dry, and peel the dried glue off the
skin. The splinter sticks to the dried glue.


Balm for broken blisters… To disinfect a broken blister, dab on a few drops
of Listerine
, a powerful antiseptic..



Vinegar to heal bruises… Soak a cotton ball in
white vinegar and apply it to the bruise for 1 hour. The vinegar reduces the
blueness and speeds up the healing process..



Quaker Oats for fast pain relief…. it’s not
for breakfast anymore! Mix 2 cups of Quaker Oats and 1 cup of water in a bowl
and warm in the microwave for 1 minute, cool slightly, and apply the mixture to
your hands for soothing relief from arthritis pain.




dead duck….

Oktober 8, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

A woman brought a very limp duck into a veterinary
surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet


pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird’s
chest.

























After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and
sadly said, “I’m sorry, your duck, Cuddles, has
passed away.”

The distressed woman wailed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. Your duck is dead,” replied the
vet..

“How can you be so sure?” she protested. “I mean

you haven’t done any testing on him or anything.
He might just be in a coma or something.”



The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the
room.
  He returned a few minutes later with a

Labrador Retriever.







As the duck’s owner looked on in amazement, the
dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on
the examination table and sniffed the duck from
top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad
eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out
of the room. A few minutes later he returned with
a cat.







The cat jumped on the table and also delicately
sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back
on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly and
strolled out of the room.



The vet looked at the woman and said, “I’m sorry,


but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably,
a dead duck.”



The vet turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys
and produced a bill, which he handed to the woman..
The duck’s owner, still in shock, took the bill. “$150!”


she cried, “$150 just to tell me my duck is dead!”

The vet shrugged, “I’m sorry. If you had just taken my
word for it, the bill would have been $20, but with the
Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it’s now $150.”



You know the drill
… if you’re
smiling, you must pass
it
on, give someone else a smile too!

Share the laughter ….

18 (T) nie gesensor nie!

Oktober 4, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Paddy
had been drinking at his local Dublin pub all day and most of the night
celebrating St Patrick’s Day. Mick, the bartender says, ‘You’ll not be drinking
anymore tonight, Paddy’. Paddy replies, ‘OK Mick, I’ll be on my way then’.
Paddy spins around on his stool and steps off. He falls flat on his face.
‘Shoite’ he says and pulls himself up by the stool and dusts himself off. He
takes a step towards the door and falls flat on his face,

 

‘Shoite,

 

Shoite !’

 

He looks to the doorway and thinks to himself that if he can just get to the
door and some fresh air he’ll be fine. He belly crawls to the door and shimmies
up to the door frame. He sticks his head outside and takes a deep breath of
fresh air, feels much better and takes a step out onto the sidewalk and falls
flat on his face.

 

‘Bi’, gracious… I’m [email protected] [email protected],’ he says.

 

He can see his house just a few doors down, and crawls to the door, hauls
himself up the door frame, opens the door and shimmies inside. He takes a look
up the stairs and says ‘No [email protected] way’. He crawls up the stairs to his bedroom
door and says ‘I can make it to the bed’. He takes a step into the room and
falls flat on his face. He says [email protected] it’ and falls into bed.

 

The next morning, his wife, Jess, comes into the room carrying a cup of coffee
and says, ‘Get up Paddy. Did you have a bit to drink last night ?’

 

Paddy says, ‘I did, Jess. I was [email protected] pissed. But how’d you know?’

 

‘Mick phoned . . . You left your wheelchair at the pub.’ 




IN DIE MOEILIKHEID!

Oktober 3, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Patton
staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy, Paddy.
  He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife, Kathleen. 

He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs
bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.   As he caught himself by grabbing
the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.   A
whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially
painful. 

Managing not to yell, Patton sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in
the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.   He
managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as
best he could on each place he saw blood.

He then hid the now almost empty Band-Aid box and shuffled and stumbled his way
to bed. 

In the morning, Patton woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt and
Kathleen staring at him from across the room. 

She said, ‘You were drunk again last night weren’t you?’

Patton said, ‘Why you say such a mean thing?’

‘Well,’ Kathleen said, ‘it could be the open front door, it could be the broken
glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing
through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly ….. it’s all
those Band-Aids stuck on the hall mirror.
 

dis nogals treffend!

Oktober 2, 2012 in Sonder kategorie

Lees die skrywe van Steve Hofmeyer

     
Baie mense beskou blykbaar diefstal en roof as
        heel aanvaarbaar, jy moet net beweer
jy was
        daartoe gedryf deur honger, gebrek,
apartheid
        of die waan dat jou oer-voorouers
onderdruk
        was.. Laat ons dus maar vandag oor
‘n paar sake
        reguit praat:

        ‘n Mens steel nie omdat jy honger of
arm is nie
        – jy steel omdat jy skelm is.
        Niemand was nog ooit in hierdie
land so
        volledig onderdruk soos die
Afrikaner na die
        Tweede Vryheidsoorlog nie.

        Ons voorouers wat die oorlog en
die
        konsentrasiekampe oorleef het, het
na  die
        doodse leegheid van vernietigde
plase
        teruggekeer – uitgehonger, hartseer
en
        verpletter. Maar hulle het nie
geroof en gemoor
        en gesteel nie.


        Hulle het met harde werk,
deursettingsvermoë en
        swaarkry so presteer dat hulle
weldra nie net
        hulleself nie, maar ook hulle
huidige
        onderdukkers, goed kon versorg.

        Toe hulle kinders in Engelse skole
gestop is en
        gestraf is as hulle dit durf waag
het om
        Afrikaans te praat, het hulle nie
klippe gegooi
        en skole afgebrand en geweld gepleeg
nie.

        Hulle het hard geleer, hulle eie CVO
-skole
        gestig en uiteindelik bo uitgekom
sodat die
        Afrikaner vandag vir niemand op
akademiese,
        tegnologiese of wetenskaplike gebied
terug hoef
        te staan nie.

        ‘n Mens moor nie omdat jy voorheen
benadeel is
        of omdat jou werkgewer jou nie
tederlik genoeg
        behandel nie – ‘n mens moor omdat jy
‘n barbaar
        is wat nie verdien om deel van die
samelewing
        te wees nie.

        Na die Tweede Vryheidsoorlog het
        Afrikanermynwerkers absoluut geen
regte gehad
        nie en moes hulle hulle gesinne met
minder as
        ‘n hongerloon probeer onderhou. Maar
hulle het
        nie bejaardes gaan doodmartel en
gesinne
        uitgemoor nie.

        ‘n Mens word nie ‘n agtergeblewene
omdat iemand
        anders nie genoeg vir jou doen nie.
‘n Mens
        word ‘n agterblyer omdat jy nie
presteer nie.

        Niemand het die Afrikaner na die
Tweede
        Vryheidsoorlog vooruit gehelp nie –
ons het
        self gewerk en volhard om sukses te
behaal.

        En elke ding wat ons het, het ons
verwerf.

        As alles altyd vir jou verkeerd loop
sodat jy
        voel jy maak nooit enige vordering
nie, is dit
        dalk ‘n goeie gedagte om op te hou
soek wie
        anders as jy self vir al jou ellende
        verantwoordelik is.

        Ruk jou reg en presteer jouself in
die
        voorspoed in. En dit geld vir ons
eie mense
        ook.

        Net ons eie werk, prestasie en
geloof gaan
        bepaal of ons as agterblyers in die
        vergetelheid gaan wegsink en of ons
weer as
        trotse, beskaafde, gerespekteerde
volk sal
        opstaan.

        Selfs in die nuwe Suid-Afrika is
daar steeds
        geleenthede vir vindingryke,
geesdriftige mense
        wat bereid is om hard te werk en vir
hulleself
        ‘n toekoms los te spook.

        Mag die Afrikaner nooit pateties
raak nie ….

        Steve