Nipples.
Nipples. How innapropriate. Almost gross, but not because we are used to them. Why are you reading this post? Doesn’t matter, keep reading. Strange thing nipples. I don’t want to sound crude, but I don’t now why guys have nipples. I get why girls have them, but guys, really? Why? Things like belly buttons, they make sense. Belly buttons are good for a nice steak and chips when you don’t have a big enough mouth to fit them in. Everyone needs a good ol’ belly button, at least when they are developing in the womb. But not everyone needs nipples (Do they?). My friend told me about a guy who had his belly button removed in some operation. He had to pay money for them to make him a new one, but he decided to keep the money so now he has no belly button. He has a mouth though. Maybe he went out that night and used the money for steak and chips.
Memories of France again. I feel like one of those rugby guys I know from back in high school, seemingly incapable of talking about anything more than the games they won and the girls that they serenading with warcries. When they were ‘something’. They get old but they never realise that their stories do too. So I’m one of those guys about France. But I haven’t told all my stories yet, so they are not old. Anyways, I think this story is worth telling, while we are on the topic.
One night a couple of my friends (girls) went out to party. They came back in the early hours of the morning with a photo of a guy that they met at a club. He had five nipples. Well… has (I don’t think he has removed them or is even planning n it) I didn’t beleive it until they showed me the photo. Two in the normal place, and then three scattered below like a constellation of star on his stomach. He had even added some bling to his little galaxy by piercing one of them. Amazing. Anyway, after telling the story a couple times, I learnt that extra nipples are common. There’s plenty to go around apparently. My friends would respond “Oh yes, so-and-so also has an extra nipple!” or “So-and-so has four nipples!” I imagine Moses commanding a plague of nipples to attach Pharoahs people so that nipples appear on peoples toes and legs and hands and faces and everywhere else. The things that go on in my mind.
So one of my friends tell me this story one day about his friend that bombed a hill on a skateboard or other wheeled device and came short, grazing off his nipple in the process. In it’s place a nasty scab appeared. When the scab healed, there was no nipple. But then after some time, a new nipple sprouted in the place of the old one. I’m not even grossed out, I’m just impressed. I don’t think it’s possible, but it’s a funny story. I googled it to be sure. Apparently it’s not possible. Then I though: ‘I wonder if people are born with only one nipple… let me google it!’ I typed ‘one nipple’ into the search engine. Bad idea. Be careful how you phrase anything with the word ‘nipple’ in it when using a search engine. That was dum, try again. ‘Is it possible to be born with only one nipple?’ I ended up at one of these question-answer forums. People with user names like ‘sunnysideup’ and ‘Junpin Jack’ respond to these sorts of questions, so you can seldom tell whether the person is male or female. I got some answers:
“Yea def. I have only one.”
“My aunt has three.”
“I have a friend with only one nipple.”
“I was born with two, but my right one got cut off…” [Ouch!]
Some of them speak condescendingly. They say things like, “No DUH… they are like fingers or feet” [Forgive me for not seeing the relation].
I love the inernet, what better place to share our nipple stories. I have two in case you were wondering. Anyways, this is a travel blog. Last week I went so Scottburgh on the South Coast for two nights with 13 friends. Camped in the caravan park. Fantastic time. Beautiful sea view, good friends, clean ablutions and not super expensive. The winter sun here is the perfect temperature and the surf was good. Not far from Durban and makes for a great holiday. Highly recommend it. It’s good to enjoy the beauties of my own country again. Home is a place that I will always want to come back to.
The only constant is change… and Coca-Cola
Travelling forces you to make a lot of decisions about stuff. Some of them are big and important (like… do I learn French if I’m going to France?), and some of them… well… not so much. I suppose today’s decision falls into the later category. the questions is, ‘What do I do with my unusual collection of ‘stuff’?’
When I was young I collected coca-cola stuff. I didn’t care what it was really, if it had a coca-cola logo on it, it was a collectors item to me. I also collected other stuff that I found collectable. By collectable, I meant anything that had variation. Yes, that meant pretty much anything. I collected matchboxes, pens, atamps and your grannies’ tea cosies. But, unlike the others, I managed to keep up the Coca-cola collection for quite some time. I suppose I found it interesting because there is always something new with Coca-cola. The problem with this unusual fettish was that emptying out the garbage can onto my shelf was not my mothers idea of fun (as you can imagine). But over time my mother gradually warmed up to the idea that my sparkly and colourful cans were worth far more than the dust that they collected. Yes, of course I am joking. A can is a can, and dust is dust. So my collection of assorted cans, bottles and other ‘stuff’ was doomed to suffer the same fate that it had originally been rescued from – disposal.
A few years ago I downsized my can collection at my mothers request. But today the end is imminent. So before my mom could end my life with that wooden broomstick she keeps in the kitchen cupboard, I decided to take a few cellphone snap shots of my childhood pride, to show my readers. Here are a few pics. Ja, I don’t care if you think it’s boring, go read someone elses blog on gardening or something.
Ok, so… we all know the price of stuff goes up. But hows this for ‘inflation’.
R2 for a can of coke? I almost can’t beleive this was in my life time! So… A little bit of political turbulance, affirmative action and crime, and everyone is set to leave the country. Their loss. At least you can still get a can of coke elsewhere… if you know what to look for. Here is some help:
Still confused? Ask Father Christmass for a can (who just by the way, only happens to be red because of Coca-cola”’ marketing. Before they intervened, he was green).
And just by the way, what the heck happened to Vanilla Coke? I actually liked that stuff!
Anyways… after I got through all my cans, it turned out I had very little of real collective value. Besides maybe this truck my uncle gave me (each of the little crates comes out of the side and has individual Coke’s in them)…
A couple ties…
and this bottle my friends mom gave me. The Coke in this bottle is probably close on 20 years old.
But Coke doesn’t mature like wine, And cans dont rust any less when they are out of the trash can. So in the end, my childhood treasure turned out to be a pile of useless rubbish that only I could add value to. It’s a little bit like what God does for us. But unlike God, I chuck my rubbish back into the garbage can that I saved it from. I am grateful that He doesn’t. Goodbye Coca-cola collection. Turns out my life is easier without you.
A journey of a thousand miles... 