Justin Timberlake…

Posted in Dating, Fiction, Heartbreak, Humor, Love, Relationships with tags , , , , on September 30, 2013 by kondeeskaos

“Gaaad. Has he straightened his hair or what’s the deal?”

My best friend turns around to look at me but I can’t really tell if Justin Timberlake’s hair is straightened through my tears.

“Are you ok? Is it your back again? Do you need a Myprodol?”

I gurgle-laugh “I’m fine, you asshole.”

I’m just, like, so caught up in Justin Trousersnake’s “Mirrors” music video.

I’m sober. Ok maybe I’m premenstrual but whatever. For some reason, this video has me tjanking like a maltese poodle.

I’m sitting next to my friend who’s also in her 30’s. We’ve been there, done that, wrote the blog. Jaded but not enough to keep us from being fools for Romance.

Evidently not- I am weeping at a music video of a coiffed JT in Louboutins.

Why am I touched by this? Do I need medication?

JT’s beautifully directed video shows the story of his grandparents, how they meet across a pool table… flash forward to an argument in their smokey bedroom surrounded by a mess of books and blurred mascara, their engagement, her wedding dress, them growing old and him eventually fading. SOB!

We all know this video. Its all of our grandparents’ love story. Life was hard but their love seemed so much easier.

The perception that quantity of time spent together outweighs the quality of time spent together.

It warrants congratulations, jewel anniversaries and trophies, right?


That’s not necessarily true but I repeat:  fool for romance.



Boy vey!

Posted in Dating, Fiction, Humor, Love, Relationships with tags , , , on September 8, 2013 by kondeeskaos

“Please. Please can I just touch it for a while?” He pleaded.

“No! I don’t even know you!” I reply. 

“Ok. I’ll give you MY foot first to make it a fair exchange.” 

Before I knew it, this 6.2ft man had his Paul Smith-clad foot in my hand. I had no option but to marvel at his chutzpah. 

I slipped my shoe off. I can safely assume he liked my foot. He grabbed my face and kissed me.

(Note: my nail polish was called “My Chihuahua Bites”. True story.)

Hours of chatting later and I find out this crazy, lovely, sexy man is Jewish. “What! I had no idea!” I exclaimed….He wasn’t wearing a yarmulke and he wasn’t naked so I couldn’t exactly tell.

“Well that’s terrible, don’t you know all Jewish men are intelligent, funny, successful, direct??” He says.

Add modest!

I have dated a Jewish guy before, sure. He wasn’t a very nice person, and sadly he lived up to a lot of the unfortunate, negative preconceptions us Gentiles have. I certainly didn’t stick around to glean any knowledge over a bowl of matzo ball soup.

“Will your mama like me?” I ask. “I already own a lot of leopard print and jewellery. I used to be a chef. And! I platz for kosher wine” I offer.

“My mother will love you. She’s gay.” He replies.

Great, halfway there, I think.

“You’d have to stop eating bacon.”

WHAT? Mon dieu, no ways, no such thing would be possible.

“Also, Judaism requires a high level of admin. You’d need to free up a lot of your time for me.”

Erm. Nope. I have enough of a hard time remembering to schedule dentist appointments. If its between work, gym, partying, reading, catnaps and Facebook- maybe. If you’re lucky.

So far, so mazel tov.

We speak about religion a lot and love it. Mainly because my ignorance is endearing to him, and he loves to educate me on the generalisations.

In fact, today’s text message:

“Babe did you know one of the biggest fallacies about Jewish men is that we’re stingy and materialistic? Not so. We only strive for financial success because we’re insecure about our circumcision and we’re trying to save up enough money to buy back from the mohel what we lost.”


(Yes, I had to Google “mohel” too.)

Posted in Uncategorized on August 4, 2013 by kondeeskaos

Hmmm…. interesting!

Posted in Uncategorized on July 28, 2013 by kondeeskaos

A Man in Uniform…

Posted in Dating, Fiction, Humor, Lessons, Love, Relationships with tags , , , , , on July 21, 2013 by kondeeskaos

He’d just come back from London. It was 1998. He had a on a pair of Diesel Zathan’s, Nike Air Max, his Carharrt hoodie, Aigner fragrance he found in Venice, and a designer Toni & Guy haircut.

 This was my metrosexual Belgian born boyfriend and I on our 3rd date. My friends all teased me about his well-groomed coiffness.

Quiet and reserved, I had no idea if this man was still “in the wardrobe”.

And then we were driving, in his new leather seated BMW. It was still in the days when I drove (long long ago). We were on the way into the wild, for a friends wedding.

When… I carelessly drove over piece of jagged metal.

He, calm as a cucumber, said “That’s ok. I think I know what to do.”

Within minutes, my boyfriend went from a 90’s heroin chic looking model to ripsnorting hetero male.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry, is the tyre ok?”

“Ah yes, no problem. Luckily the army prepared me well”, he said.

We dated for 10 years. He is the most metrosexual man on Earth, I can be certain. He also knows how plugs from any continent work, other causes urine is useful for, how to use a tourniquet and how to stop a car whose brakes have failed.


I’m a South African woman in her 30’s, so that means I am familiar with my male family’s war stories, badges of honour, uniforms in storage and opinions on compulsory military service.


I’m all for it.


In fact, I should’ve been the face behind those WE WANT YOU! propaganda adverts.

I’m only half joking.

If I neatly and politely smoosh all my dating experiences into 2 categories, there’d be A) men who’ve served in the military and B) men who have not.

I haven’t dated nearly enough men younger than me (there’s still time) to pass fair judgement (is there ever a time to pass fair judgement?) but I have to concede there are some glaringly obvious differences:

1) Men who’ve “served” know how to wash and iron their clothes.

2) They also completely recognise the value of a can of baked beans, firewood, running water and folk music.

3) They are less arrogant.

4) They understand being a graphic designer holds no purpose in Real Life.

5) They don’t call in sick when their nose is running.

The rest is on a need-to-know basis.

Catfighting Cowboy…

Posted in Dating, Fiction, Humor, Relationships with tags , , , on July 7, 2013 by kondeeskaos

I usually don’t suffer fools gladly. Except, this fool was bearded, listened to Wild Beasts and well, at first he seemed really, properly lovely.

So yeah, I suffered fool.

I saw the signs, I ignored them. I heard the alarm bells, I played deaf.

The man was a bitch.

Sure, I’ve heard of them before. I’ve seen them, out and about, being all sarcastic and “cool.” They’re just like those Sweet Valley High girls from private all girls high school who wear the fragrance of Aloof & Unapproachable with finesse.

Bitch isn’t a word I throw around willy nilly, oh no.

In my defence, it was easy to fall under The Dupe. Bitchy boy, aka Mancow, is a strikingly handsome, successful guy with a magnetic personality that seems to paralyse women and men alike into a revoltingly embarrassing stupor, one that has fans wilting at his feet. Raised well, kind to the homeless, soft spoken and intelligent… did I mention strikingly handsome?

Slowly…surely, it became clear. Our friendship was all about me bestowing compliments and gushes of love and garlands of recognition. Oh, and I was only too happy to do so.

Because you know, its all fun and games until the fun and games stop. Ie: when you overhear Mancow speaking about your friends, or people who can’t elevate his popularity.

Sadly there are many Mancows wandering these plains, I am told. Men who never really have to worry about the gritty real friendships you slog at day in and day out for rewards that come their way for free anyway.

So here I am, reflecting on the hilarity of it all and vowing to appreciate my nerdy, dorky, ridiculously true friends even more, with well-placed and reciprocated grandiose and terribly uncool displays of affection.

Posted in Uncategorized on July 7, 2013 by kondeeskaos

7 July


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