Guess Who’s Back???

It has been a long time since I last posted a blog article, and I am ashamed of myself.
You see, I had made a commitment to myself that I will post about two articles on WordPress every single week, and months have gone by since I have even shared a quote, and it’s a damn shame, because a man is only as good as his word.

Yes I have failed to keep my word, but please hear my plea, because I believe I really have some valid reasons for my “incompetence”.
First of all, things ain’t always that black and white, and your whole life can be turned upside down in just a moment. The last thing I remember is me writing my book peacefully and hoping to publish it soon and buy a stroller for my baby, and then the next moment I had no baby, or book, money, friends and not even a place to stay, and all that in just a blink of an eye.

I then took a job at retail trying to pick up the pieces, and before I knew it, I had went from selling expensive ladies perfumes and underwear to packing tin fish at Walmart and feeling like a damn idiot, and thinking to myself, “at least at my first job I interacted with beautiful ladies”.

I’m a very passionate author, so as much as I know how much of a waste it is for me to be pushing trolleys, packing tills and stock whilst I could have been just writing, I also know I just have to do it, it’s either that or go homeless boy.
And I cross my typist fingers that soon enough someone will spot my potential as I’m standing shamefully behind a trolley. Amen.

And I promise to check in on WordPress whenever I get a chance.

God bless you all.

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Time Flies On Your Day Off

I work at retail, so my average day is “targets”, “targets”, and more “targets”. And oh, smelling like perfumes we can’t afford, putting on colgate smiles even when we actually want to punch a customer on the throat, and running like athletes selling clothes we can’t equally afford.
In retail, a person is expected in a day to make more money than he earns in a whole year, and if you think that is preposterous, wait until you see the staff dancing like Michael Jackson celebrating having sold goods worth R58 000 in a day and met their “targets”, and in the end earning about R2 100 in a whole damn month, what about meeting your personal targets?Bad-Tour-Billie-Jean-michael-jackson-13443788-800-1200
Anyway, this piece isn’t about how the rich gets richer and poor get poorer because their sweats and tears are responsible for the richer’s riches and only if they could employ that very same level of commitment towards attainment of their own personal goals. This piece is just about time, not in some deep philosophical way, but just about regular hours on my days off.

I may not be necessarily patriotic about reaching targets of R58 000 a day, R 400 000 in a single week and R 1 2400 000 in a month whilst being compensated around R 25 000 a year, but I still love my job. I love keeping busy, being around people to study human behavior, smiling at beautiful ladies and being of “service”, I work with about 90% women colleagues and 100% female customers, so what’s there not to love?

Loving my job as I do, I can’t help but feel time loves us just as much. Work hours are not regular hours; at work, you stand up, dust rakes, hang clothes, sweep the floor, open the door, assist about 80 customers and check time, and it’s only been about 15 minutes; the very same 15 minutes you lose as soon as you pull out a sit on your tea break.

And time on your day off isn’t from the same clock as a work day. Today I was off, the plan was to wake up early, do my house chores, write blog articles, read, spend some quality time with my girlfriend, go lvisit my friends, and listen to the ‘Think And Grow Rich’ audio book. But, I woke up, decided it was still too early so I went back to bed for a couple of minutes (and woke up three hours later), by then it was too late for house chores and so I called my girl over and in a blink she had left (after about five hours), so I just went for a haircut and the barber was extremely efficient (in about an whole hour), and so after that I couldn’t read, write, listen to my audio book or hang out with my boys, so I just went to buy a take away because it was too then late to cook, and surprisingly, all the shops were already closed.
And there goes my day off.

Me And Women’s Shoes

Before I say anything, I just want to congratulate myself for my new job, well done boy.

I’ve worked too many many jobs in my life to still be flattered by these things but for some strange reason this time I am, and I really don’t know why. Maybe it’s because it came when I most needed it? Or, maybe it’s because I assist women buy shoes, I mean, beautiful women to buy beautiful shoes.

I have only worked for two days but it was long enough for the obsession women have with shoes to be justified to me; women’s shoes are just too adorable, whether it’s boots, shoots, hiker boots, push-ins, pums, open toes, wedges, (my personal favorite) hills, or any other kind.

Every kind is designed specifically unique, and for a newbie as myself a great deal of confusion is suffered, I confuse shoes, and women know them too well to be looted by my incompetence, so I’ve run back and forth like a damn idiot more times than I care to remember (in only two days by the way). The other challenge is I’m colorblind, so all these different shoe colors are rocket science to me, for instance, ink navy, mushroom and my new favorite, “nude”, I really have no idea why a color would be called “nude” but since it’s nudity, this might be the first color I’m able to see.

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I guess I just wanted to say, “Congratulations to myself”.
And ladies, once I’m a shoe guru, I promise to offer some shoe shopping tips.

Bye girls.

Failure: My Best Teacher

I do not believe in mistakes and accidents, everything is how it was meant to be. Everything is for a specific reason, to serve a certain purpose, so learn what it means to teach you, for moaning it only result in relentless repetition in an attempt to get the lesson through, and so a bad moment can easily turn to a bad day, a bad week, a bad month, a bad year, and ultimately, a bad life.

I have just failed a job interview, not just anywhere but in Sandton (I always have been crazy about Sandton), in a marketing agency (although initially I had wanted PR but marketing was close enough) and I just couldn’t handle the loss, I wanted to self-destruct, and quit my retail job, head to Sandton to look for every and any PR agency I might find and hand in my CV in person.

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After a couple of moments my right mind came back, and I realized I cannot just up and leave at a heated moment, destroy what I have because of what I have failed to get, that is failing twice, failing my future self simultaneously with my present one. Don’t get me wrong, I still think dropping CVs off in person is a good idea, but how I’m thinking of going about it isn’t, lack of preparedness always amount to failure. I should do research, be well informed about agencies I plan to approach as opposite to just googling their names and addresses.
Yes, failure does sting hard, but failing to accept failure is failure in its nature. Take it in, take a deep breath, get back up, and try again.

I have always chased happiness, but never have found it; maybe I’ve been sitting on it all along. I had seriously thought happiness is finding my dream job, dream car, house, girl, etc. but I was wrong, happiness is just a positive attitude. I can be happy today, with the right attitude of course. If I am happy it doesn’t always mean that I’m happy with where my life is, it just means that I am happy I woke up, healthy at that, I’m surrounded by love and I’ve had something to eat today, and then I need to apply that very same attitude towards changing my circumstances.

Failure humbles us, they say. Failure is meant to teach us something, never fail to win and then again fail to learn what a loss is meant to tech you.

Amen.

Does Being A Pervert Make Me Such A Bad Person?

SEX, SEX, and more SEX= My average thoughts on an average day.
I’m not really certain if I should really write this one, but since I’ve went as far as putting my laptop on my lap I might as well. Welcome to forth base.

A woman breastfed next to me the other day, I couldn’t help but stare at her “titties”, so much that she had to stop and I felt so horrible as the baby started crying, the little man must have been not full. This other time I worked as a security guard, and this man and his wife had just purchased underwear for the Mrs., and as they walked out my alarm beeped and I had to search for tags still stuck in their packaged, and as I opened it my eyes glowed like a boy with a new toy, and the husband whispered in my ear; “Merry Christmas son”.

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Does it all make me a bad person? Yes I sniff panties, masturbate, and randomly stare at strange women and fantasize about having sex with them.
My granny would be so ashamed of me, she raised me by the ways of Christianity and I know that fantasizing about adultery is a sin as actually committing it, but the last time I went to church I got an erection in the Lord’s house as I sat behind a lady with a booty so big that I could see the panties line underneath her long skirt, but then again I always have been so “vigilant”, hallelujah.

That was back in 2005 or 6, I’m a grown man now but I still have hormones of a 16 year old boy, and they embarrass me every day.
I often feel like Don Jon, my relationships often include me, girlfriend, dirty Facebook and twitter pages, pornhub and Vaseline, so my righted hand still aches as it did back in high school.

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Does this entire make me a bad person, or just a shallow one?

I still read, write, treat other people well, pray to God (although I no longer go to church), and pay my taxes, but, I’d still sleep with the 1st lady that might walk through that door.

Does that make me such a bad person?

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