The dog days are over.

Now that I’m all grown up, I reminisce on the days when I was young, confused and misplaced. I look back to these days and I wish some genius out there would build a time machine and I could travel back into time to give myself pocket money when I needed it the most.

I was never poor but I remember three occasions were I really needed some pocket money, and back in the day two of my friends had birthday parties and I either couldn’t go or I always never had cash to buy them a birthday present to show how I appreciate them for being my friends, especially since I was in purgatory in terms of social standings at school, i got them a sucker. (lame right?)

One of my friends that I mentioned above was never really my friend he was more of an acquaintance then anything, the little jerk invited me to his birthday party, picked up all of my friends from the same area that I lived in and didn’t even bother to picking me up. I mean we all live in the same area; I’m right next door, DUDE!!

Anyway... because I was broke at the time and didn’t really get pocket money, I had no present for the little buga, instead I got him a small exercise book (not the kind that teaches you how to lose weight because he needed that but the book that had light blue lines and a pink/red margin on the side). I wrapped it in an old newspaper I found in the house, went outside and patiently waited for him to come pick me up. And to my surprise he didn’t show up.

My other friend I was talking about was a true friend and to this day we still keep in touch. He had a birthday once and invited me to go with him and his family to the mall to play games and have dinner. I declined at first because I had no money for such, but he insisted and him and I went to the mall played games at the arcade and had dinner. The least I could do was to give him a birthday present right? - Man I wish someone out could build a time machine right now –

My friend had another birthday the following year but fortunately for me there was no birthday party. I felt guilty for not getting him anything the year before so I bought him a fizzy and wrapped it in a newspaper I found around the house. And so I patiently waited until my mom allowed me to go outside and play. When I gave have him his present he was so happy (or at least that’s what I thought) he unwrapped the newspaper hoping to find something magical inside but all he got was a green fizzy.

If you’re out there and planning on engineering a time machine please do it fast I need to redeem my childhood, right now the dog days are over and I can afford to give myself some pocket money, but I need to do this before things change again.

How to write a love letter

Some humour for the lovers

A PRAGMATIC ROMANTIC SAYS FAREWELL TO HIS LOVER.

BY SPENCER HAM

Babe, my flight is starting to board. But this isn’t goodbye; it’s merely one small phase in our relationship because even though I won’t be here physically, I will still be around you spiritually. That’s right: My love for you is so profound that I will transcend my body and manifest myself in a myriad of ways.

Like on those sunny days when you feel the warm rays of the sun kissing your face and the wind blowing through your hair—that’s going to be me caressing your porcelain face. Or on that cold winter night when the first snowflake descends from the sky and lands on your nose—that’s going to be me giving you a gentle kiss. And during the moments when you randomly get goose bumps, you better believe that’s me tickling you.

But I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, pumpkin. I’m not going to be behind every sign. For example, if you feel aching sensations at the back of your jaw then that’s not me—that’s your wisdom teeth. It’s imperative you make a dentist appointment ASAP. If you don’t get them taken care of at the first sign then you’ll face further complications down the road, baby.

Or if you are about to unlock your car in a parking garage and you feel hot air on the back of your neck, that’s not me—that’s a mugger. Get out your mace, buttercup, and stop that man from robbing and assaulting you.

And if your stomach starts to rumble after you eat a bagel, that’s not me—that’s celiac disease. Make some dramatic dietary changes and lay off the gluten, sweetheart. Or if you are just lying around your house all day and you inexplicably feel lightheaded, that’s not me—that’s carbon monoxide poisoning. Leave your house immediately, babe, and get it inspected. Carbon monoxide is a silent killer that ravages thousands of homes a year.

Also, if you travel to Central America and subsequently discover a series of pulsating bumps on the back of your head, that’s not me—that’s a botfly. You’ve got parasites living in your flesh, baby. Get those removed before they hatch on your pillow and find another host.

Oh no. Love of my life, please don’t cry. I don’t mean to scare you. For every potential bad omen there will be a favorable one. Just remember, when you are laying in bed and you feel your left arm become numb—that’s me, holding onto you tight… or it’s a stroke. Take a couple of aspirin and go to the nearest ER. You know, just in case, baby.

- See more at: http://www.long-distance-lover.com/long-distance-love-letter/#sthash.6NiNHI1I.dpuf

Is it just me or is it everybody else?

You know what makes me laugh from time to time is how people struggle so much to pronounce my name. I try to teach them how to say the click properly but every time I get a pop and not the crucial click that's needed. I tell them where to put their tongue and how to manoeuvre it around their mouth. But as soon as they get that part right they forget how to pronounce the rest of my name which is easier to pronounce.

But of course, I’m not the only person who has this complicated name given to them by their mothers. One of my friends who has been blessed with the name Mokhalaka, has had the same struggle I have had to endure. You would pronounce the kh in his name with a gha, the same sound you hear when you are dragging your feet through a small pile of stones. It’s the same with him as it is with a lot of black people with difficult names to pronounce, he had to teach white people how to pronounce his name... and guess what? They all failed and they all gave up decided to call him Mo, full stop.

A wise lady once said to me “you truly show someone you care about them when you take the time to learn their language.”  That wise lady was actually my friend’s mother.

All I am asking for here is a little bit of understanding and a bit of practice to show that you really want to know who I am. This has to work both ways, if you are white I will ask you your name and if it proves to be a difficult name to pronounce I will ask you what is the proper way of pronouncing and I will attempt pronouncing your name until I get it right.

I will not however ask you "what do they call you?" I'm proud of my name, it's the one thing my mother loved saying whenever she gave me the most approving look you'll ever see. take the time to practice and i'll take the time to get to know you.