Tag: OhSoRosie

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Leave me alone, I have a headache – Topical

I am fascinated by the attraction to sex dolls, sex robots and the like.  And there is, I believe, a demand.

I don’t want to judge.  Some people are very judgemental, you can tell just by looking at them.

That’s not me.

But I am fascinated.  There was a recent story about a couple who decided to get a sex doll made up in the spitting image of the wife.  For, you know, when she’d had enough argy bargy.  The doll could step in.  This was their story.

Except the doll was not the spitting image of the wife.  She was enhanced quite a bit.  That’s gonna become a problem isn’t it.  And the doll is not going to age, get sick or get fat.

So many questions.  So many pros and cons really. And, one of the things I wonder about is ‘is this really a joint decision?’  Why didn’t the wife get her own improved sex doll husband?  Just to even things out.  Is there such a thing? 

But that’s just it, isn’t it, relationships ARE hard.  For me personally, it’s possibly time to get happy with being single if your partner needs to bring a doll into things.

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Zambuk, it’ll last you forever – Daily Life, My Lovely Man

My lovely man has had a cold for over a month.  The poor bugger.  We have self-mediated, of course, but yesterday actually went to see a doctor and got him some anti-biotics.  This is his second dose of antibiotics, but the first lot didn’t do the trick it seems.  Possibly because it was just some stuff I had lying around to treat a cat bite.

Have I mentioned that you can pretty much buy any drug in Mozambique?  We are not as regulated.  No time for that shit, no money in it really. 

I had, being Flo Nightingale, been giving him some meds and arranging a steam bowl a couple of times a day.  And a little towel of course.

The doctor applauded my efforts and said that the steaming was good and needed to be continued.  He said that it’s the steam that does the good, not really what you put in the hot water.

I scoffed at this, I believe it’s the Vicks I put in the hot water.  The first time I gave it to my lovely man I had maybe put too much Vicks in the hot water and he nearly passed out.  Are you sure this is good for me he wept through streaming eyes.  Get under that towel already…. Course it’s good for you.

So, when we stopped at the chemist to get the antibiotics, I suggested he get more Vicks (yes, he went in on his own to get his meds, I had this blog to write).

The lady said that Zambuk to rub on my chest or steam with will also do the trick he announced on his return.  We have Zambuk don’t we?

Yes, of course we have Zambuk, we’ve had it for years.  Why for years, because you can’t get the lid off a Zambuk tin can you?  That stuff lasts forever.

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It’s all a big hustle – Life in Africa

Most of the adult population in Southern Africa are not formally employed.  To survive, the people hustle. 

And it works.  Everything is available.  Everything is a negotiation.  I think, therefore, people from Southern Africa struggle in places that work normally.  We are not used to efficiency. It is exhausting here, it is frustrating, but we hustle and when we can’t hustle and there are RULES, we are bewildered.

Also, we get lots of additional services here. Useful.

I was always amused driving down a suburban street in Bryanston, Johannesburg, that advertised haircuts.  (Haircuts, styles, wigs, weaves etc are big money in Africa).  Quite a common thing to have snatched.  No worries about your jewellery or wallet being snatched by a mugger, they are likely to rip your expensive weave off your head. That’s when you have a real bad hair day.

But, I digress…

Along with the sign to advertise that you can get your hair cut on the side of road in Bryanston, the stylist doubled up as a traditional healer and could cast any number of spells to cure you of any ailment or curse your enemies as required.

I’m lucky if I get a cup of coffee at my hairdresser.

People don’t advertise their (informal) wares on websites really. But, they do so with Facebook pages and the like.

So, the FB page starts off with a clear description of what is being sold.  Zim Cars for example. But, diversification happens almost immediately. 

Here’s a handy service you can take advantage of at the same time you browse for a used vehicle.

•DO YOU DOUBT IF THE CHILD YOU ARE RAISING IS NOT YOURS?

•ARE YOU SUSPECTING IF YOUR WIFE HAD SOME AFFAIRS?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW YOUR PATERNAL OR MATERNAL RELATIVES?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE PERCENTAGE OF YOUR RACE?

•DO YOU WANT TO KNOW IF ITS POSSIBLE TO CONDUCT A DNA TEST WHEN ALLEGED FATHER IS DECEASED?

CONNECTS YOU TO THE TRUTH THROUGH THE APPLICATION OF GENETICS. DO A DNA TEST TODAY AND LIVE WITH THE BEST KNOWLEDGE FOREVER!!!!

Offers a wide range of DNA tests which best suit your condition and YES!!! , we have the SCIENTIFIC SOLUTION TO YOUR SOCIAL PROBLEM.

That’s what we need people, a scientific solution to our social problem. Don’t knock it until you try it.

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Life in Africa – We’re OK, we drink plenty

Japan is issuing stern instructions to their youth to drink more.  They need the sin tax for economic growth it appears.

I have long pondered how the Zimbabwe economy staggers on, and I think I finally understand. 

I read quite a lot of opinion pieces (propaganda), where the government assures everyone that everything is under control and Zimbabwe is booming because of this or that and that it is absolutely fine for them to replace their entire fleet of cars with new Mercedes as a result.

Even when I diligently read the critics and their take on the Zimbabwe economy, I can’t make any sense of it.

We asked one of the banks here recently if, in fact, the seemingly popular purchasing of the Zimbabwe “Mosi-oa-Tunya” gold coin is stabilising things as is being claimed, and they answered ‘No comment’

And therefore we drink.  Because we are confused as to HOW Zimbabwe staggers on.  Well, really, a Zimbabwean has never needed an excuse to drink.

And here is the answer people!  The Japanese know.

When South Africa banned booze (and cigarettes and open toed shoes of course) because some bright spark decided this would help eliminate Covid 19, the Zimbabweans nodded knowingly. That isn’t ever going to happen in Zimbabwe.

Politics is quite harsh in Zimbabwe, but they know better than to take away a Zimbabwean’s beer.

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Topical – Full Disclosure

Did you hear about the Russian cosmonaut that was outside of the space ship doing some job or the other when he was advised to return to base immediately because his battery pack was likely to malfunction and leave him in all kinds of poo?

He must have bought his power pack from the same little streets of Beira shop I did. I also didn’t give them a rave review on line.

First, what is the difference between a cosmonaut and an astronaut?  Apparently nothing except Cosmonauts are trained and certified by the Russian Space Agency, and Astronauts are trained and certified by NASA and others.  There you go hey, no love lost….

Secondly, this wardrobe malfunction probably has more serious implications, although not as widely watched or repeated on mainstream media, as Janet Jackson’s nipple gate.  And various others. 

There is immediate suspicion of course, when there is a wardrobe malfunction that ends up exposing some intimate bit in public that it was intentional, you know, for the publicity.

I have had the odd wardrobe malfunction, but I can assure you I was not coerced into the behavior and I don’t believe any publicity did me any favors.

Once I went to the office loo and tucked the bottom of my skirt into my panties.  I wandered around the open plan area for a while with my bum cheek hanging out. 

I was telling a friend about the incident and that I was contemplating killing myself, or at least resigning, and she said that she had gone to the lav and also tucked her skirt hem and the toilet paper she’d been using into her panties. She trailed a long stream of less than pristine loo paper from her panty elastic for some time.

I think she won.

This, unfortunately, has not been the worst incident I, (but mostly those witnessing), have suffered.  Our Mandova was diligently cleaning out the lounge very early in the morning once and glanced out the lounge French doors, across the stretch of the verandah and straight into the bedroom French doors where I was leisurely clothing myself. Sadly, only in the very beginning stages of this dressing process.

We have never spoken of this, but it is not something he can unsee I suspect.  He is no longer as diligent about cleaning so early and if he does, he keeps all the drapes closed and his head down.  I suspect he has also started drinking.  I know I have.

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Life in Africa – yes, we have tape, it’s red

We had cause to transact with a government department.

Always a time to gird your loins, particularly in Africa.

The first government department we were channeled to were super pleasant but directed us to another department and building down the road. You need to go to the 13th floor they advised. Of course, it would be the 13th floor.  Didn’t think they even allowed 13th floors in buildings, isn’t it bad luck?  It certainly was for us.

What are the chances there is a working lift my lovely man asked as we navigated our way there.

There was a man here yesterday trying to fix the lifts, the ground floor reception fella told us. But, he continued, the problem seems more complicated than his ability.

My lovely man, at this point, could have sent me up into the ether by myself, as it was my issue, but, he is super supportive and courageously led the way. His two knee replacements no doubt saying ‘hang on a bit.. is this wise?’

As we braced ourselves at the bottom, our senses were assailed with a strong urine smell. So, shallow breaths for 13 floors was required.

I did sympathise as by now my bladder was prompting me for attention.  However, I managed to restrain myself from piddling on the staircase you will be proud to know.

My Samsung watch went into overdrive.  Alerting me to the fact that I was exerting myself. It has never been so excited quite frankly.

We staggered, gasping to the 13th floor reception and she immediately said we needed to see someone on the 12th floor. There was no oxygen available from what we could see.

These people, bless them, do this every day. A couple of times a day I imagine.

We met another unbelievably pleasant lady on the 12th floor, and she laughed at the condition of us. There was little sympathy, she is doing this climb daily 5 months pregnant.  The lifts have not worked for two months. Honestly, for me, that would have been contraceptive enough.

Thank you for coming she said, you are in the right place, but, in fact, you need to write us a letter with your request and bring it back for our consideration.

This is Africa, there is no point in asking – is this information readily available anywhere as to what the process is?

There is also no POSTING a letter.  One must deliver it personally.  Can one leave it at the ground floor reception we asked tentatively… better to bring it up to the 13th floor reception yourselves we were advised.

Of course. 

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My Lovely Man – bring on the bees already

Two days ago there was great excitement and my lovely man dragged me out to the bee hive where indeed, there were half a dozen bees buzzing around.

But they went away and so far, have not returned. Clearly not impressed with our hive.  I’m considering putting the price tag on it to assure them of it’s quality.

We need to figure out how to attract them my lovely man stated sadly.

My suggestions of moving the compost heap the hive is near, painting the hive orange (orange is ALWAYS good), maybe thinking about putting in a little jacuzzi, some art work and a comfy bean bag or two have been met with scorn.

This morning my lovely man had found an educational You Tube channel.

Darling he said, the sound is off, please help.

My lovely man is somewhat technically challenged.

I spent 10 minutes trying to unmute it. Checked all the settings, subscribed, generally faffed around.

Eventually I said… Is the volume down?

We probably don’t deserve bees, we are idiots.