Regurgitating nonsense

I was told, by a friend who is doing a creative writing course, that one way of writing down a semi decent piece of writing is to just throw away words onto a page for as long as you can, then edit it and you will find some inspirational subject matter(those were MY non-intellectual words btw). Well, that is how I chose to interpret it. So, here we go:
I have a friend called Toez. He writes and bites and shakes the phone. I am a vegetarian who feels the need to say totalitarian. I used to eat Wicks bubblegum but now I eat wasabi roasted peas. I think I have spondylolysis which I bet you had to read twice. My dogs name is humphrey and he loves carrots and avo skins. I wish we could get the brown litchis all year round. Is it weird to like packing? The toad jumped over the candlestick. Longboarding and mandarin not mandolin, mandarin. Yes I just did that. I wonder how many of you are mad about punctuation. I have a tendancy to laugh out loud, usually at myself, but it has been known that I will laugh at you, yes you with the floppy excuse for a joke. Thoughts are random, just like the cut on my lip. Fight club should never happen. Rings and tings. Shimmy rather than the Twist. ok I am getting bored of shedding light into my not-so-affable mind. Go find your own you nosey bunch of blueberry piesang suckers.
*Testing...testing..1..2..3..*

Toez bites the phone to stop from shaking. Spondylolysis hurts almost as much as the burn from Wasabi peas.Humphrey stares at him as he munches on a piece of carrot.He wonders why he jumped over that candlestick with his longbaord. He likes to be the joker for everyone to laugh at. Now he also has a cut lip from his ring. He must remember to shimmy the board and THEN twist. It stops ringing. His mom must not be home. He misses her blueberry muffins...

Well creative maybe but good..pffff I don't think so!

African longing

It's that time of the year again. London in January. It's grey, it's cold and swarming with grumpy souls. People are broke after overspending on indulgence and short-lived presents. Everyone feels a little guilty for the extra pounds they put on or feeling sorry for themselves because they caught another viral flu. It's a sad state of affairs.

I, on the other hand have Africa. Yes, I live far away from the beautiful continent...and ..well..yes, I have the Jan blues BUT my dear people, my source is ALL sunshine and drumming beats. It's easy to forget where you came from when times are tough. People, and by people I mean MY people, South Africans are a funny breed. We have, impressively, made our loud mark all around London(predominantly in the South...maybe because subconciously we feel closer to the sun. There are two types of South Africans existing in this habitat called Mud Island.

There are those that curse our homeland, saying it is a barbarians kingdom and we have no future. This breed also have one obvious charateristic:scare mongering. They have every horror story up their sleeve, waiting for any opportunity to divulge their juicy stories of fear and betrayal. Do not listen to them. They breed ignorance and hurt. Forgive them because you will get a surprise when they flip the coin and display their colours of pride during ..well..any sporting event.

Then there is the other breed of South African, the kind that treasures the joys of coming from such a unique and wild country. They have stories of warmth and connection. They miss home and always return home. They are happy and if you listen closely, you can hear the humming of their African drum-heart pulsing through their veins. They appreciate freedom and stand out when it most counts.

The two breeds are really just a balance of a wonderful country, an inspiring heritage and a twisted humour that can only be adored by the strong willed and motivated.

I'm proud to be a piece of it. I'm glad I will be going home to it soon. C'mon 2011! I'm all Africa'd up.
*insert Lion roar*

Dog boxes and shoulder shrugs

SO, we have all been in the dog box and it's usually seen as a bad thing. But I like the dog box. I get to be alone in the dog box. I get to sit and "think about what I have done". I get to be locked away in safety while the festering continues around me.
It's basically like a reflection box, really. I imagine myself on top of a mountain, shrugging off the mess I made for myself. I have a much better perspective from here than when I am right in the thick of it. I am beyond the immaturity that surfaces when the ego has been bruised. I have the time to find the clarity I need to change MY perspective on the situation.
It's probably the most useful box to have in existence. Plus the name is so cool too. ANd who doesn't love dogs. I don't mind being a dog for a day. Life seems so much simpler as a dog. And at the end of the day, no one can resist the puppy dog look you give when your reflection time is done. They will forgive you.
They feel that they have punished you, and you feel like you managed to dodge the flying bullets..win-win!