The Attack of the Eight-Legged-Weapon-of-Mass-Destruction!


I am very proud to announce that I recently saved the world from being taken over by spiders! OK… so actually my friend did, but I was instrumental in making it happen… and no, this is not an exagerration. In fact, this is a serious warning to be taken very seriously!!!!

So over the weekend I’m sitting at my folks place, minding my own business, working on some financials at the kitchen table. The parentals are currently on holiday and I am being kind enough to live in their house, use their electricity, eat their food and watch their TV. I am accompanied by the perfect sound of silence as the house is 100% empty… ahhh bliss!!!! Anyway…. I look up at the window and spot an odd leaf or other environmental phenomenon stuck to it. OF COURSE, it takes about three seconds for curiosity to get the better of me, and off I go to inspect this very interesting looking doo-dah…. I REALLY should’ve known better….

Interesting “thing” stuck to the kitchen window


HUH! What the hell is that I think to myself….and then my brain clicks into gear…. In the split second that it takes for my brain to register that I’m looking at a spider’s NEST I scream my high pitched “little girl scream” and RUN! Thankfully I made it safely to the other end of the house where I was able to take a minute to catch my breath, slow my heart rate down to just below heart-attack mode, and grow some balls to go back and investigate.

In my usual arachnaphobe style, I creep down the passage, all the while telling myself that I can deal with this… it’s just a little spider… I WILL SURVIVE, and all those other inspirational things that make no difference to my intense fear! Anyway… I made it back to the kitchen, where I decide that I somehow need to see this properly to make sure I am in fact looking at what I think I’m looking at, and to assess whether I need reinforcements (i.e. make my friend drive from her house to mine to save me!)

I’d like to take this opportunity to congratulate myself on the following:-

1. I actually had the balls to go back and investigate

2. I managed to successfully maneuver myself out the kitchen door and into the courtyard whilst staying glued to the door and wall furtherest away from the creature of mass destruction

3. I took the following photo (turns out my phone has a pretty excellent zoom function!)

Creature of mass destruction and it’s soldiers


As you can clearly see, it’s a HUGE F&^*ING SPIDER, on a HUGE F$#&ING NEST, filled with soon-to-be-HUGE F%*#ING SPIDERS!!!!!!! Lot’s of soon-to-be-huge-spiders! And that was me done! I flew back into the house, slammed the door, closed the window and phoned a friend. Yes, that’s right,I phoned my very good friend, and informed her in a panicked whisper (whispering was essential so as not to wake the sleeping beast) that I had a HUGE problem!

Three minutes later she arrived, and with doom and spade in hand, she bravely faced the monster…..


It REALLY was big enough to take over the world!

OMFG! that THING was on my window! Do you have any clue what an arachnaphobe experiences when looking at THAT THING in real life? It is not a fun experience I assure you….

But never fear, my friend disposed of the offending IT, and it’s offspring, and I lived to fight another day…. Ahh yes, Wacky has yet again foiled the attack of the eight-legged-weapon-of-mass-destruction!






My Brother’s “People”


A couple of weeks ago I spent two nights with my brother in Joburg. It was an interesting trip to say the least; I met his flat mate for the first time, and spent an evening having the most ridiculous discussion with a good friend of his. These are a few of the highlights:-

I forget how we got to talking about reading, but I was chatting with the flat mate about books and the English language in general; Cole is a pleasure to talk to as he is one of a limited number of people I know who are able to correctly use words such as pedantic and facetious in a sentence. Anyway… we were discussing this wonderful topic and I commented that I was currently reading “Wuthering Heights”. Cole’s response just about had me on the floor I laughed so hard. His very serious, completely innocent response was:

“That’s the new one by JK Rowling?”

Bless his cotton socks!

And then there’s Greg. Greg is a different sort altogether. He’s a bit like a puppy that no matter how miserable you are, you can’t help but like. And Greg is a funny guy to have around… before he arrived for dinner we got a call to say that he would be a bit late because, and I kid you not, he’s watching a tree! Yes, Greg was sitting on the side of the road somewhere near Fourways, with his hazards blinking, watching a tree. My brother and Cole just accepted that this was something that Greg would do and didn’t seem too phased about the situation. When I questioned the whole ridiculous situation further I was told “It’s a Greg thing!” Turns out, the tree had fallen into the road and he was worried that someone might not see it and they would have an accident! I mean come on, is this guys heart not in the right place just like a big puppy or what?

So that was my first ‘Greg experience’ for the evening.

Later, when he finally arrived, we got onto the topic of me using a Garmin navigation system. His completely 100% serious question to me was…. “If you flew here from KwaZulu Natal, why do you need a Garmin?” OMG! Really? I remain incredulous at this question, and I still don’t think that it occurred to him that getting to Joburg wasn’t the problem, so much as finding my way round Joburg!

And then there was the “Volume of Distance” discussion. Again, I can’t remember how we got onto this topic, but Greg has theory that you can measure the “volume of distance”. He has a complete equation of how to calculate the “volume of distance” but as yet has been unable to explain exactly WHAT the “volume of distance” IS?  Who knows, maybe he’s actually a genius and I’m just too dumb to understand it!

Whatever the case, the one thing I am sure of, is that these two guys brightened my trip, they definately brighten my brother’s life, and I’m glad that these are his “people”!


Catch up – the short version


As much as I want to launch straight into all the funny shit that always seems to be happening in my life, I feel an inherent need to update you all as to what I’ve spent the past 6 months doing. So here it is – the condensed version at any rate – in no particular order:-

1. Off to school…
My kids started school – ok so it’s pre-school and they only go three mornings a week – but they go! I knew that when they started I would probably feel a twinge of emotion; I didn’t expect to feel like a full-blown cry was in order. (I didn’t actually cry, but there were certainly some tears prickling at the back of my eyes and a lump in my throat… if I was more of a girl I probably would’ve sobbed my heart out!) Anyway, Danielle is loving it. Paige on the other hand… my poor little hooligan is taking ALOT longer to settle. She still cries almost every morning when I drop her off, and it still breaks my heart every time she does!

2. I QUIT!
Yes, that is correct. I resigned. I am no longer an employee. My initial thought had been “HEY!!!! If I take on four private clients and work from home, I can make the same salary as what I’m earning now, only with about a hundred less clients!” This thought then progressed to “Well, if the kids are going to school it seems pointless driving home after dropping them off in order to work from home. Why don’t I open an office in town?” Of course I couldn’t just stop there! So my thoughts are now “Well, seeing as I’m offering such a unique take on accounting services (I won’t bore you with the details) I may as well consider opening more than one office!” So I am now officially the proud director of a (Pty) Ltd, with some pretty big goals!


3. Degree in Fast Forward
I found out quite by chance that my degree syllabus will be changing soon, and that I have to complete my Bachelor of Accounting Science by 2014 at the latest. Now I know that seems like ages away, but with twenty-odd subjects to go, THAT’S A HUGE AMOUNT OF WORK! So I now have to take a minimum of four subjects per semester, or at least eight per year, in order to complete in time…. the not-so-small catch being that I CANNOT FAIL A SINGLE SUBJECT or I am fubar’d! No pressure then?


So those are the big 3… and of course there are some things that haven’t changed….

Spiders are still a huge issue. My kids still challenge my sanity… so does my husband! I’m just as impatient as usual….did I mention that spiders still scare the shit out of me…yup…some things are just same old same old!



The return of Wacky…


OK… so it’s been almost exactly (you know how much the almost part of that phrase is bugging me don’t you!) six months since my last blog post.


Oh I remember now… life got in the way. Isn’t it inconvenient when that happens?

Anyway… apologies to those of you who find me amusing and have missed me. Apologies to those of you who don’t and are a bit bleak that I’m back! Whichever…. Wacky is back on the record and rearing to go.

There have been quite a few ‘incidents’ since April, so I have a heap of stuff to tell you about, but all in good time. I have to re-learn how the hell this blogging thing works again and try and figure out the techno-side all over again too, so I may need a little bit of lee-way before I really get the ball rolling. Till then you may be stuck with boring monologues and no pictures… again… apologies from yours truly.

So that is where I’m going to leave you for now – I’ve already started my next post in my mind, so it should follow on from here quite soon. Provided kids, my business and my degree don’t interfere…. hold thumbs!!!!

“Noo-noo Mommy, noo-noo!”


My daughter Paige tends to be a bit of a hooligan.

At only 14 months of age she’s a real little terror; if I shout at her she just gives me this cheeky little grin and RUNS! If there’s mischief to be gotten up to, she’ll get up to it. She’s also fascinated by bugs and regularly runs to me excitedly shouting “Noo-noo, noo-noo” with a bug of some sort in hand. 99% of the time these bugs are just moths that she’s “rescued” from some miscellaneous area of the house. Occasionally she brings me something other than a moth… this morning was just such an occasion. As you all know, I’m an arachnophobe (Can you see where this is going?)

Anyway, I’m rummaging through the ironing desperately trying to find something to wear, and Danielle is busy throwing clothes left right and centre, so when Paige ran up to me excitedly shouting “noo-noo, noo-noo” I simply put my hand out distractedly and took the “noo-noo” away from her. BAD IDEA!

It took about three split seconds for my brain to comprehend that the creature in my hand was definately NOT a moth…in fact it felt suspiciously like an eight-legged creepy crawly…. so as I glanced down to see the curled up (hopefully) dead spider in my hand I simultaneously threw the offending creature across the room, screamed and started to run down the passage. Halfway through my mad dash to escape I suddenly realised I had two small children staring after their mother who was now running like a jibbering idiot through the house…probably not the example I want to set? So with nerves of steel (read: legs like jelly and a thumping heart) I started my attack on said spider. The spider may have one the first battle, but I was determined to win the war!

Stealthily, and whilst trying very hard not to look like I’m completely petrified, I creep back to the lounge, staring at my foe with a determined, (hopefully) scary glint in my eye. With 5 metres between me and the enemy, all was going well. My heart had not yet given up and simply stopped beating, I wasn’t quite hyperventilating and the glint in my eye was still scary as hell… 4 metres… 3 metres… still no pre-emptive strike from the enemy…2 metres…. almost there… 1 metre… AND ATTA…. WTF!!!!

The Lesser-Spotted-Arachno-Scare-The-Shit-Out-Of_Wacky

The Lesser-Spotted-Arachno-Scare-The-Shit-Out-Of_Wacky

OMG – I’ve discovered a new species of spider…. maybe we can name it the lesser-spotted-arachno-scare-the-shit-out-of-wacky?

Reasons to strongly dislike car guards


There are a number of things in life that irritate me… you know those little pet peaves that are actually not that big of a deal, but just piss you off all the same? Well one of those (not-so) little irritations are car guards. I hate car guards. Everything about them irritates the shit out of me. Now I know this sounds a little bit harsh, but just think about this for a minute…

1. Their income is 100% “under the table”… I mean seriously; how many car guards do you think keep financial records and then submit a tax return at the end of the year? And their income is not necessarily insubstantial. The average Joe will probably hand over 5 bucks right? So let’s say 100 cars in a day in a semi-busy shopping centre. That’s 500 bucks for standing around doing jack-shit all day. And ten grand a month to stand in a parking lot chatting to your car guard buddy is not bad money! At one hundred and twenty grand a year (to stand in a parking lot) my local car guard should be paying about ten grands worth of tax. I understand that in the grand scheme of things that is but a drop in the ocean, but still! I work my arse off, I probably earn less than some car guards AND I still pay my taxes… and I do a shitload more than just stand in a freaking car park!

2. Yeah he really is going to risk his life to save my car!…. REALLY? He’s going to walk up to that dodgy looking guy, who just might have a gun on his hip, and tap him on the shoulder and say “Please sir, move away from the vehicle before I’m forced to attack you with my can of coke!” Oh yes, that prospective car thief is going to be quivering in his boots!

3. Don’t I already pay my insurance company?… Because I’m pretty certain that there’s a debit order on my bank statement every month for a good couple hundred bucks for car insurance; the comprehensive kind! And I’m also pretty sure I had an alarm fitted for a reason. And then there’s tracker. So seriously, why am I going to pay some numb-nut to stand in a parking lot in the general vicinity of my car?

4. I know I’m a woman, but I KNOW HOW TO REVERSE OUT OF A PARKING!…I really don’t need some half-witted-orange-vested-traffic-cop-wannabe to direct me out of a parking. I already did that when I was just a learner-driver, and I’ve now had my license for a good many years. I’ve got this part covered!

5. I know I’m just a helpless woman, but I really don’t want some creepy looking stranger to help me pack my car… and no it’s not because I’m a feminist nazi or anything like that. Generally speaking, I just don’t like creepy looking strangers!

And those ladies and gentleman, are wacky’s top five reasons to strongly dislike hate car guards. Harsh maybe, but all 100% true!

TOP 5: Things my Husband Should Stop Saying


I love my husband, I REALLY do… he’s kind, funny, a great Daddy, a wonderful husband and all round nice guy. His only downfal is that, well, he’s a male, and let’s just face it… men are certainly not the most intelligent of the species. They survive on a pretty basic level and don’t always comprehend the deeper meaning of their words… which brings me to the top 5 things that my husband REALLY should stop saying to me.

MEN TAKE NOTE: If you are in a relationship and/or have children, then these apply to you to!

5. WTF are you phaffing with?: See Wednesday’s post for the full story!

4. NAG NAG NAG…: Yes, that’s right Mr I-have-such-a-tough-life, I’m nagging you, but not because I like to nag you. I’m nagging you because you never do what I ask the first time I ask you to do it. Imagine, if you just got up and did it… I wouldn’t nag you. Is that really such a complicated concept?

3. You look fine: I have just spent 95 minutes of my life preening, shaving, plucking, waxing, moisturising, applying and dressing, and the only response I get from the neanderthal in front of me is “You. Look. Fine”. In a huffy-can-we-get-going-already-voice no less! Well Mr Neanderthal, maybe if I stop wasting my time, and rather become a hairy, smelly, unpleasant neanderthal-ess, maybe then I’ll be something other than fine? How about that?

2. Is it THAT time of the month?: NO Mr Sensitivity. It’s not THAT time of the month… it’s that I’ve-had-a-really-long-day-and-just-want-five-minutes-of-peace-and-your-insensitive-stupid-comments-are-not-helping time of the month!

And my absolute best is….

1. But you’re the Mom: Oh that’s just great. So just because I have a vagina, the dirty nappies, bath time, dressing kids, feeding kids, packing for kids, making and cleaning bottles and any other child related job – other than playing with the kids of course – well that by default becomes me and my vagina’s job, whle you and your penis sit on the couch! Great!

Well, Mr Insensitive-neanderthal-with-such-a-tough-life-and-a-penis, me and my vagina are going on strike!



Any married parent will agree with me when I say that there are some arguments that will simply continue to be repeated over and over until the end of time! One of these is what I fondly refer to as the “WTF ARE YOU PHAFFING WITH???” argument.

It always takes place when my whole family is attempting to leave the house and go somewhere together. Daddy is in the car, tapping the steering wheel impatiently. My two daughters are in the car, strapped safely in their car seats and fiddling with whatever is at arms length, and Mommy… well I’m rushing madly through the house trying to finish brushing my hair whilst simultaneously trying to put my shoes on, gather all the paraphenalia that goes everywhere the kids go and lock the house. Whilst I’m huffing and puffing and slamming doors and swearing under my breath I hear the following words yelled from the driver’s seat… “WTF ARE YOU PHAFFING WITH?”

And that’s where it all begins… without fail, I hear those words and see RED! And here follows my standard response, of which the decible level varies depending on the kind of morning I’ve had….

“I beg your pardon? What did you just say? Did you just ask what I’m “phaffing” with? (I actually make those little commas with my fingers when I say this.) So while you sit there relaxing and just enjoying your morning, and I’m making YOUR coffee, and changing YOUR (they’re always HIS kids at this time) daughter’s nappies, and dressing YOUR daughters, and making YOUR daughter’s breakfast, and tidying our house (it’s NEVER just HIS house) and doing YOUR washing and packing all the shit that we need to take with for YOUR children, and at the same time trying to get myself dressed and looking decent so that YOU don’t moan about whether I take enough care with my appearance or not… while I’m doing ALL THAT, and all YOU are doing is enjoying a nice hot shower and getting dressed… you’re going to sit there and bitch about how long I’m taking to get ready! Well Mr Smith, maybe YOU should be the one to get the kids sorted out next time and I’LL have a turn to just sit on my ass and twiddle my thumbs. How about that?”

At which point I get in the car, slam the door and continue to mutter to myself, whilst my dear husband rolls his eyes and politely informs me “Well, you’re the Mother!”

And that’s how the argument goes. Every single time, without fail. Maybe next time I should just smile and say “I’m sorry darling, you’re right I phaff way too much and I’m sorry.” And maybe hell will freeze over too!