Exploding head syndrome- KABOOM!:

“Did I tell you to make it part of your very public blog?” she asked and I had to admit that it was due to my own stupidity that the world now knew that I had the dreaded M. I could hear my eggs shrivelling up and calling for help. I did not want any more children, so why on earth was I feeling sad about the approach of the dreaded M?
“It’s the loss of the possibility of having a child,” said the muse, once more in her intelligent Einstein phase. I was starting to feel warm and fuzzy towards her; she understood after all.
“Imagine two more of you running around and driving us all to drink?” she said, rolling her eyes.
“What is wrong with being a little eccentric?” I could feel the heat rising in my neck and settling in my cheeks. Due to the chaotic pole dancing of my hormones, anger came easily, bouts of crying was a close second. She of the bounteous bust took one look at me and bounded (the walls shook and bits of plaster cascaded form the ceiling) to the light switch. With a smirk she turned on the ceiling fan and whistled loudly. A white elephant appeared which duly flapped his large ears at her command. A cool breeze floated across my burning cheeks.
“Have you no sympathy woman?” I asked, “Just wait until you find yourself in this same aging boat.” By this time I was livid, the roots of my hair had turned red and smoke escaped the top of my head. If I was a cartoon character, you would have heard a loud, echoing whistle as I let off steam.
“Everyone, dive for cover!” she shouted. “Her head is about to explode- go to code red immediately! She is about to give new meaning to the phrase waking up with a bang!”
“Once again…NOT FUNNY!”
“Run for your lives!” This was the last thing I heard before a loud explosion filled the room.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exploding_head_syndrome

Of nudity and bungee jumping

 

She spoke over my shoulder.

“Time’s a-wasting, dear don’t stand around and dawdle.” I jumped, enough to have sent me over the edge of a bridge anyway. I hadn’t seen her getting out of my car nor had I heard a door slam.

‘Don’t do that ever again. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“It keeps you on your toes doesn’t it? Mission accomplished, I would say and a damn sight better than Tom Cruise who has to do mission after mission after mission after…..”

“I get the picture!” I said suddenly annoyed at her superior intellect.

“Let’s go,” I huffed striding away angrily. I glanced over my shoulder to see if she was following, only to find that she was disrobing along the way. The muumuu flew over her head, got caught by the breeze and carried to Ixopo where it clothed a family of 20 with material to spare to make curtains for the shack. They were called umuntu pephuli (the purple persons) in the local dialect.  She flung her bra into the river where it floated downstream and saved a baby elephant from drowning in a flash flood. It wrapped itself neatly around his front paws, the cups held air and the elephant floated serenely down the river to where he could clamber out. The article appeared in the newspaper the next day. Her g-string panties got hooked on a nearby Matumi tree (they grow to 40m in height) and covered half of it. Birds scattered and left their nests as sudden darkness descended upon them. What I saw was rolls and mountains and valleys and gullies of human flesh. The girl was large and in charge.

She sauntered nonchalantly over to the bridge and peered over. I couldn’t fathom how in the world she could move so fast given that I had just seen her nude. The impossibility of it boggled my mind. Yet, there was a magical, colourful aura around her and I knew that this was why the lady was successful in flipping on my creativity. This was why, whenever she was around, my fingers would tap the keyboard in a constant rhythm and I could write to my heart’s content. This was when I was happiest with myself and the world at large.

“Pick up your bottom lip, dear it will be trod on and the look really doesn’t suit you. Have you never seen a naked woman before?” she asked looking innocently over the expanse of her bare shoulder. “I must admit, I make it look good, don’t I?”