Cool kids gonna get some drugs

As the cool kids go out in a blaze of glory

A very late Friday post. Almost not necessary seeing as though we all have better things to do on a Friday evening. Except me, it would seem. No I posted nothing today and it was eating me up inside. Or that could be the rat poison that bird tried to slip me…Anyway.

As the sun fucks off over the horizon to say “tata” to another year (Well on Sunday it will) we have time to reflect on how well our students have done in the Western Cape. Mind you, not that I care, but the Cape Argus wants to make me care. Yesterday the headline for the Argus was “Top of the class-again” Yippee ki-yay motherfucker, as Bruce Willis would say. To say I’m not in the least interested that these people have not been outdoors in the past year would be an understatement. Maybe deep down I’m a bit jealous that they are going to be working for Donald Trump one day and I’m not(Bullshit I call the cards when it comes to Donald, he would be nothing without me) Maybe I’m jealous that they screwed maths over so hard that the syllabus is changing next year, while maths screwed me over so hard that I changed forever(31% on standard grade for matric-there, I win) After matric maths I was no longer this carefree young lad. Rather I was careless and lost my zest for life for a while. Evidently it came back this year(Well towards the end) and I no longer want to poison myself with the nice smelling Limited Edition blue Sunlight liquid. But yeah, thes people did do well so congratulations. You are going to be getting so much ass it’s unbelievable. Granted it’s going to be ass with the cleaning lady at UCT while working on an actuarial science paper in the dead of the morning while you wonder if the hedge fund could possibly cross reference the JSE bull market in the second quarter. But hey, ass is ass. Keep telling yourselves that.

I love that photo above, it makes those people look so cool. Sorry it's such a poor photo but I'm in a rush to go somewhere. No really I have somewhere to go... The guy in the middle has the obligatory clever kid glasses and all of them have the ultra cool name tags. Shit, I have to get one of those for when I go out tonight. Action, guaranteed. Hot model guaranteed. So yeah guys, congratulations on the results. Congratulations on coming right last night(I hope I’m not being too presumptious) and good luck for the future. Good luck out there, coming right with all the world’s hottest women. And I hope the drugs were good last night, you rebels you…

I just realised this post is really mean. Ahhh fuck it it’s posted already…

Our sunglasses offer 100% non-UV protection

As Clicks sunglasses give us welders arc-eye

I have always insisted on the best sunglasses for my eyes, not because I’m a royal pompous prick, but because I don’t like UV burning my retina like a hot poker. My Oakley Monster Dogs have actually increased my vision to the legendary 20/20 status. I wear them everywhere except for my bike. For that I choose Dragon Rake which kick ass as well. My sister however, opts for Clicks and Spitfire. Clearly an elementary school error this. I once wore a pair of Spitfire sunglasses and after about 20 minutes my eyes started getting sore because of the distortion of the lens. How people wear this shit all year round is a mystery. So when next you see a little punk kid on the beach with a pair of Aviators (other than the legendary Ray Bans) you can laugh. Because while he thinks he’s cool now on the beach with a light cigarette dangling out his mouth and some 16 year old slapper whore on his arm, he is sure to have two glass eyes by the 2010 World Cup.

If you look at the photo above you will notice a good few cracks in the lenses of my sister’s sunglasses. I think if you click on the photo you will get a bigger picture. The cracks have formed in a circular fashion. Well she did not leave them in the oven, she left them in the sun. Now I don’t know about you, but if I were a sunglasses designer I would make sure they could withstand their natural environment, namely the sun. I would not give a fuck if they can survive underwater, in space, in a pressure chamber under the earth, or in the freezing cold. I would just design them so they withstand the sun. But clearly the guys who make Click’s sunglasses don’t think the same as I do. Which is most odd. They were in the sun on Tuesday for half an hour and they cracked. Quality, quality stuff Click’s are selling. No wonder Click’s can afford to give people Clubcard points, because they mark everything up to be more expensive than any other shop on the planet. Every single thing in Click’s can be bought cheaper if you just look around for two minutes. So these sunglasses, which should clearly be free, or maybe 50cents, are being sold for about R120. Fuckers. Why not just spend R800 or so and get a decent pair that will last forever? Crazy times.

It's fresh inspiration, it's off the hook

As Eric, Fleetwood, Jimi, Bob, Michael and Foreigner keep me trucking

I was taking a look over the last couple of posts and I thought to myself “By fucking George, how did you come to write such absolutely thrilling bullshit?” I then realised where my new inspiration was coming from. I have just loaded 300 new songs onto my iPod and I realised that by listening to it I could write at a frantic rate. If I wanted to I could write more articles than a newspaper does every day. I can’t say I really want to do that, but if large sums of US dollars were offered, I would do it. You know, another day, another dollar. So to let you in on my secret to writing: You have to listen to the old school. Eric Clapton, Fleetwood Mac, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, Foreigner (Chicks did Foreigner’s “Waiting for a girl like you”) and even Michael Jackson have been rolling through my head.

It’s just what I needed. As I write this Eric Clapton is singing a personal tribute song to me, it’s flippin’ awesome! So when you laugh at my writing, cry over it, want to kill me over it or think I’m a fool, I would like to say thanks to Eric, Fleetwood, Jimi, Bob and Foreigner for being there through this rocky journey. You guys rock. I would be nowhere without those beats.

"I'm fine...it's just a nick"

These were my first words as the Schick Cuttro cut to the core of me

Good day. I say this because it is just what people say. Unfortunately for me it was not such a good day, well morning at least. I thought I would put my Mach3 in the back drawer this morning. It has served me well. You know, with its catch line “You take one stroke, it takes three” So I pulled out the new Schick Quattro which has an unbelievable four blades. Not that four blades is necessary but it’s just so excessive it’s awesome. It’s kind of like mom’s picking their kids up from school in a Jeep 4X4 HEMI 4.4litre V8. It’s excessive, but it’s cool nonetheless.

So anyway the first stroke with this razor was like death. It has wires on the blades to protect you from cutting yourself. It was not enough to protect me. Some words that came out of my mouth in quick succession after the first cut were: fuck, shit, whore, bitch, motherfucker, son of a bitch. Some sentences running through my head were: Death is imminent. Why me? Why now? Why like this? Everyone knows of my wish to die on an island. Why don’t chicks dig me?(I don’t know why I thought that, it had nothing to do with the blood spewing from my face) I think the catch line for the Quattro should be “You make one cut, it makes four gashes” My house is 2cm deep in blood this morning from the cut I received. If you look at the photo above of my basin you will see it is quite brutal.

So if anyone is contemplating buying the Quattro, good luck. Even better luck to the poor souls who buy the five bladed razor when it comes out. I think they should print a death warning on the packaging. I still stick to the Mach 3. Whereas using a Mach 3 is a daily ritual, or let’s call it a lifestyle, the Quattro is more of a once off type of razor. Because not only does it cut the hair, it removes the entire dermis layer. When your skin grows back, there is no hair. This is because the Quattro has cut it right out of your DNA.

On the subject of shaving, why does every gimp bitch school leaver find it cool to try and grow a beard? Seriously, unless you can grow stubble that is sharp enough to cut diamonds then don’t grow anything at all. It looks pathetic. I personally will not try growing a beard unless it’s going to be seriously hard core like Clive Owens. I want people to walk around me when they see my beard. I want people to pray to my beard on Sundays. I want Jean Claude Van Damme to get the shivers when he sees my beard. I want shrines put up around Thailand to honour my beard. And of course don’t try and grow a moustache unless it’s going to kick someone’s ass and drive your car for you. Growing a ‘tache like the guy from American Chopper is cool. I dig the handlebar muzzie, but anything less is not cool. It’s like getting plastic stick on spinners put onto your car wheels. Unless you are going to get 20 inch, R200000 panty droppers, then rather get nothing at all. Same goes for the ‘tache. Now do as I say, and as I do.

Shoe City now also abusing substances

Look I know not all of us are born with fashion sense that tells right from wrong, Rolex from Rogex, Gucci from Pep, and Armani from Arnani. However I think we all have a basic sense of what is just fucking hideous. And so Shoe City bring us a style of sandal from so deep into the boerewors curtain that I’m surprised they even managed to find it.

The advert above says “Smart styles for cool guys” Who wrote this headline? Because clearly they are delusional from the festive seasons excess drug use. Those things are so far from smart and cool, it’s not even funny anymore. Even I am not laughing. Come on Shoe City, can’t you at least find sandals that look good for cheap? Look at the new Nike 360 C shoes. They look good, and they are R1799. However they are manufactured by a Thai boy for $1. Can’t you guys get cheap labour and make these guys make nice shoes? I bet you can you devils! Now get to it already.

The New Year awaits conquering

My day yesterday turned out well after braaing and cruising along the beach. So in the spirit of happiness and stuff, I thought I would entertain the masses with this highly intelligent, funny, well structured, master crafted piece on what the New Year holds.

Here at SLXS I don’t make any bullshit new years resolutions like saying I’m going to walk to the shops to prevent global warming, I’m going to give more to charity or I’m going to adopt a Malawian orphan. That stuff is too mainstream and common. I am unique. So I make real goals. And 2007 is going to be a cracker in terms of being a physically peaking performance machine. My Argus Cycle Tour entry is in. There are thoughts of doing the 55km Argus mountain bike ride the week before. The Two Oceans half marathon entries are being prepped and the team for the Xterra triathlon is being pep talked. One thing still bothers me. How the fuck will I run the half marathon?

I think I may have found the solution. This girl I know seems to be semi interested in running. However I’m going to be her trainer because I’m going to train her but in the end not run. I’m going to be sitting on the back of a cart which she will be towing. She will have a harness to strap this cart to her and I am going to sit on the back and take photos of the route for SLXS.

I will also have a small stove to cook food and the like. However I don’t want to be out there all day so I am going to have performance enhancing aids. One is going to be badger milk which will replace her normal USN Carbo- Fuel. Badger milk slides down the throat like small little pebbles you will find on the beach. It’s lumpy but once it hits your stomach, the body absorbs it and it gives you superhuman speed. Some side effects include growing three more hands and porcupine quills, but fuck it, it will be worth the glory of winning. I always say “Win at all costs”. Injections with fat needles and filled with steroids are going to be within my reach at all times. If the pace drops off a smidgen…BAM…one fat needle of steroids right in the ass! The pace slacks more…BOOM…another needle straight to the calf…maybe piercing the actual DNA because I throw so hard. The pace slacks off even more…BAM BOOM BIG EXPLOSION…one Molotov cocktail thrown at my runner will have her “hot” on the heels of the winners.

I will not allow her to wear sunscreen on the run. But I will take a bottle with me and a bottle of cooking oil. The cooking oil will be for me so I can bronze in the sun on the run (I’m a poet and I didn’t even know it) So when we receive our medals I will be dark like Mexican and be very photogenic. When she says “Can you pass the cream” I will reply “No, no my young one, if you weren’t so SLOW, you would not be burning! FASTER FASTER!”

Once again, my mind has conjured up an article, and a theory, so bizarre, so weird, so crazy and ultimately so fucked up that I think it just might work. People say “Man, you smoke ‘mo crack than Auntie Jan down at the church” But I say “Did people not think Richard Branson’s ideas were crazy?” They say “Yes they did think they were crazy” I then look at them, shake my head, spit out my three day old chewing gum, jump on my horse, kick him in his ass with my boots, light a cigar, take a photo of the sunset, write a poem for a loved one in my notebook, say a little prayer, take a sip of jolly juice and say, with the sun glinting in my Ray Bans “There you go. So I win.”

MM2's program choice horror

This is related to E-TV’s Mel Gibson whore fest they are deciding to have today. Last night on Movie Magic 2 on DSTV they decided their 8pm movie, on Christmas day, would be “I know what you did last summer” Following this killer film, and appearing at 9:45 pm was “The Skulls 2” Good fuck, what kind of Christmas was it for the kids? I remember when I was a tyke I used to run around like a complete nut the whole day looking for presents. Then I would piss in the car, kick the dog, vomit all my marshmallows up and watch a nice Christmas movie like Home Alone. Evidently things have changed and now kids watch horror movies. Nowadays kids smoke crack and chow ‘shrooms then go watch a horror film. Kind of makes you want to act like you are 5 years old again. Not that I don’t act like that anyway, but you know what I’m saying. Or do you? Nah, me neither. Fuck it, I’m over this article.

Wait something is on today…oh it’s Christmas

So it’s Christmas and I hope you all enjoying your day. I had a particularly good start to Christmas. I was kept awake by my neighbours dog barking until three this morning when I eventually fell asleep…probably from crying. The past four nights I have woken up at either 5am or 6am from this fucking dog. Last night was the worst. Bed time at 3am and up again at 6:30am. Last night I was actually about to cry because I have not slept in ages. So to my neighbours I hope your fucking house burns down, thanks for making this literally the worst Christmas ever. Sorry about the swearing on Christmas but it’s totally necessary. Even such blatant abuse of language can’t tell you how pissed off I am. Then when told their dog was a whore who kept me up all week, they said sorry but they had not heard it. Not heard it? I was only one of many houses that were kept awake by your gay Alsatian with his fucking girlie man bark. I think people in Joburg heard your dog. Anyway I’m over it now. Then in the interests of keeping my family from killing me I trucked on down to the church this morning at 9am. I should not be allowed to enter a church. There were screaming kids everywhere and this was not music to my brain this morning. Three and a half hours sleep and then screaming kids. I promise you I was so close to going on the rampage today and just driving my car into other peoples’ cars and just punching people. Then there were other kid’s who were looking over their parents shoulders at me. There is nothing funnier than a kid sucking on a dummy while staring at you in amazement with those big eyes. So there I was laughing in church at this kid in front of me. Funny enough, I did not know how many fine women went to the church, it was very nice. Would have tried to put some moves in but I looked like hell from lack of sleep. Maybe next year…Now I’m off to my uncle to braai and I’m going to try and take a walk on the beach and try forget the horror that today has turned into. Hope your day is better. Wicked cool.

E-TV have outdone themselves

I always think that if something is free, it can’t be that good. For instance if they were handing out free sunglasses on the beach, I would expect the UV rays to go right through those lenses and burn my cornea. Or if they were handig out free clothing, I would expect the material to perish at the first instance that sun touches it. You see, you just can’t trust it if it’s free. And so E is free. And so you can’t trust them to make wise programming choices.

They have, through some strange train of thought, decided to dedicate Boxing Day this year to none other than Mel Gibson. Clearly Mel is Christian and hates the Jews as you will have noticed earlier this year when he was fucked and said Jews have caused all the wars in the world. So to honour this behaviour, they dedicate the day after Christmas to him. What a fitting tribute to the man. I mean honestly, they have 365 days of the year to have a fucking “Mel Gibson” day and they decide to put it the day after Christmas. Just to reaffirm Mel’s dedication to the Christian faith, the faith that says we should all be equal (I’m guessing they say that) But clearly Mel is a celebrity Christian and belongs to the sect that says they must treat everyone equally, other than the one’s they choose to not treat equally. That is sheer class from E-TV. Well done guys, you deserve a pat on the back. Now go back to sleep and let the tea lady choose the programming schedule next time. Wait, can I say tea lady? This is not PC. Should I say tea person? No, not that. Ok, Beverage Control and Distribution General Manager. That’s better.

Rosie, you're ugly, you're fired!

As The Don leaves Rosie with a comb over

I actually watched this on E! the other day and found it quite hilarious. But I was reminded of it again this morning whilst browsing the Sunday Times.

Donald Trump has decided Miss USA 2006 can continue her reign as long as she enters a rehabilitation facility for alcohol. So big ass Rosie then said on The View, which she co-hosts, “Left the first wife, had an affair, left the second wife, had an affair. Had kids both times, but he’s the moral compass for 20-year olds in America. Donald, sit and spin, my friend”

So Trump, being the king of sly humour then comes back at Rosie with this, in reference to her being a lesbian: “Maybe she wanted to put the crown back on Miss USA’s head”

“She is a very, very unattractive woman who really is a bully”

“Ultimately, Rosie is a loser…”

You go Don! I think that is fucking LEGEND! Everybody thinks Donald is an idiot but I think he’s awesome. He does whatever he wants, because he can. He’s not pretty by any means but he can still say Rosie is unattractive and he says it confidently. He can still laugh at her being a lesbian and he gets away with it. And now he wants to sue her for her remarks. But he goes about all of this in such a cool way. He is just suing to piss her off and because he knows he has the best lawyers behind him. To me, if you are that loaded, there is no better way to show off your money than by vulgar displays of wealth that just say “I’m fucking worried. Does it look like I care? I will buy the world if I want to. Now fuck off Rosie” Well, that’s what I would do. Shit man, I actually want to meet The Don, he is quite the player.

We are officially unsuspended!

For some or other bizarre reason I decided to sign up on South African Blog Top Sites. Now in order to reach their very high standard I had to be approved first. Well I think I signed up about two weeks ago and now I get this very stern e-mail from them. Check it out:

Your site SLXS has been unsuspended. Please log into the user CP and put the required HTML Code on your site. Failure to comply will have your site marked unactive and maybe deleted.

South African Blog Top Sites Administrator

Unsuspended I see? Well then. Firstly I was never registered so how can I have been suspended? Surely I would have had to have been suspended in the first place in order to be unsuspended? I don't know what you are talking about. Secondly, why the suspension? This is madness. Then the very Stern, Donald Trump style " Failure to comply will have your site marked unactive and maybe deleted" Well, to be honest, I have lost interest in your site and will rather leave your code off my site. So yeah. go ahead, delete us, send us to the recycle bin, or make like Chuck and send us to the hell bin. That's all I have to say, for Friday, later hey.

This man had a fun time being bullied at school(What a fun, inspiring, totally original, front page headline grabbing headline)

I post this on a Thursday night as Friday morning brings me new challenges. Chatting to Thabo, delivering a key note speech to congress, interviewing the governator. As you know this is all bullshit and I merely post this now because then I don't have to in the morning and there is a gap on TV now where there is shit on and I'm waiting for Conan to start because he seems to be the only good thing going on in the world at the moment. Other than snorting coke off a dead hooker. Jokes. Seriously that was a joke. Don't think for one second that I would do that. Yeah so while I wait for Conan, who is the man, with some stupid plan, leading the pale clan. Whatever, here's what I meant to say.

I always like to browse through the Sports Illustrated every month because I have a subscription to it and feel that I should read it. Being far too lazy to actually read the mind bending articles that delve deep into the science of sport, I look at the articles that even your shit for brains red haired stepchild could understand. And so it was that yesterday afternoon I came upon a little snippet that I laughed at. I tell you, I have not laughed that much since I was a little girl. This article and the Swimwear calendar that came with it were worth the entire year’s subscription rate.

A baseballer named Russel Jay Kunts actually exists. However, his friends nicknamed him rusty. Rusty Kuntz. Fucking Rusty Kuntz.

Let me repeat that last line

Fucking

Rusty

Kuntz

Now to those of you who don’t find this funny, then I cannot help you. To those of you who don’t even understand the joke, you have absolutely no hope. I suggest when they do these first space tourist trips that you book a ticket to space. Then while you are out there jump out the capsule and find your way to the moon, because maybe you will be accepted there with welcoming arms. And to those who know what’s going on, can you handle it? I personally can’t.

And lastly to Rusty. Rusty you will be in my prayers forevermore. I feel the shame you must have felt over these years. Must be a bit shit though if your wife is called Regina. Not pronounced Re-gee-na. The other pronunciation. Shame on your ancestors who had this ghastly name. Or Imagine your name was Richard and people called you “Dick”. Dick Kuntz. This is too much for me. So Rusty, your life must be one big joke, but it could have been worse. Dick Kuntz marries Regina Fokker. Ok, maybe a little overboard. Anyway, later Kuntz. (Um…I’m talking to Rusty)

Anyway, later (Now I’m talking to my readers)

Tiger Tiger

Tiger Tiger in Claremont is a place full of beautiful people. I was on the website the other day to check out a photo that was taken of me. I could not help but notice that there were mostly photos of women and they were all belters. I was stunned. Anyway, as you can imagine, I looked for my photo…and I looked…and I looked…and it was not up! Clearly I did not make the grade. I was in another photo but I’m guessing they put it up not because I was in it but because of the other people that were in it. Bastards. I would have got the last laugh if the following situation had happened. A woman, Brazilian, a model, with a sign on her head saying “I want sex” walks up to me and says “You are very sexy man! You want to make sexy with me in my Waterfront apartment? Then maybe travel the world with me on modelling assignment? You will become very famous you know” So, acting all cool and nonchalant I say, with an air of sophistication “Thanks, but I’m already AWESOME, so beat it, BITCH!”

That would be funny. Seriously funny. But it didn’t happen. Sigh…

But the drugs don't work, they just make it worse(Something along the lines of a song by...I think maybe Oasis)

I was thinking the other day (Yes, it did hurt) about kids and why they are all so fucked up on drugs these days. I was looking for an answer. Google could not help me for shit and neither could anyone else. So I cast deep into my brain for an answer. I ended up standing on this huge rock in my brain looking over a crystal clear mountain pool…of knowledge! I dived in and this is what I found.

When I was a kid my parents used to buy new cars (The days when people actually bought new cars) and I used to love getting into the car at the showroom while the oldies were sorting out all the paperwork. I’d sit there and enjoy that new car smell. I’d get high as a kite on that new car smell. The drive home would be like one big dream. When the folks asked how the car was I would be like “No, like, I dig this car’s vibe, DAD!” You see these days “scientists” are saying that these fumes in new cars are dangerous and no doubt they will soon be trying to cut down on these fumes.

In the old days, Coca Cola used to contain cocaine. Not enough to stuff you up, but just enough to make you keep on trucking.

I have this Moleskine notebook that I take with me everywhere, in case the mood strikes to write a fucking AWESOME article. It says the paper is “acid free” So I take it that in the old days there was acid in the paper. So while writing on it this acid would absorb into your skin. That’s why the writers of the old days came up with such crazy ass stories. Not because they were necessarily good writers, but because they were on good drugs.

So through the ages people have always been exposed to small amounts of drugs whether it was the cocaine in coke, acid in writing paper or fumes in new cars. Now that we have become very aware of the dangers of these things we have cut them out. But deep down in the human DNA, our bodies crave these things. And that is my theory on why kids are taking drugs. Call me crazy, call me genius, but that’s my theory and I’m sticking to it. Think about it…and just let it be…

This is a decent article

I found this bottle of wine recently and judging by the name “Decent White” I can say it must be quite shit. Anything that has to mention that it is decent must be horrendous. It’s like the Laugh Out Loud Show (No one does LOL) on M-Net. If you look in the TV guide you will see it is listed as Laugh Out Loud: The comedy show. As if the name of the show were not hinting at laughter, they have to remind you that it is actually supposed to be funny by mentioning casually that it is a comedy show and one must literally LOL! Ha.

But this is a great end of the month wine, like the end of the month Salticrax. Very plain. Just a sort of grape and alcohol taste, no berries, coffee and bark like many other wines claim to have in them. It’s also a great end of year wine when you are fuck broke. It’s strange that we have Christmas at the end of the year when everyone is bankrupt from the year.

To me Christmas is a scam. No seriously, it’s a government scam. They invented Christmas as an incentive for people to go back to work. You see, people think “Ooooohhh Christmas, I better buy presents” So they go spend money on their credit cards, which is money they don’t have, but will have if they attend work next year. So at the end of it all they think “Fuck it, I have to go back to work now to pay my credit card” It’s a very vicious cycle and many people are caught up in it. I personally refrain from giving presents. I just say “Damn, shit, I heard on the Discovery Channel that Santa is not real so I can’t possibly give presents” Throw the words “I saw it on the Discovery Channel” into any random conversation and people immediately think you are educated and wise. I have fooled many an idiot with this trick.

So yeah, you see how I turned that bottle of wine into an entire article? Very clever. I started off with the wine, then went onto LOL, then onto it being an end of the month wine, then I went onto Christmas and what a scam it is and I even gave the Discovery Channel a mention. Not only can I turn a stupid bottle of wine into an article, I can actually keep you interested in reading such bullshit right until the end. Now that’s funny. Or not. Ok, it’s at least funnier than LOL.

Is this a joke? Can I laugh now?

I bought the Sunday Times on Sunday (naturally) but never got round to reading it. So I pulled it out this morning and started to read my way through it. I got to page 13 and found a story entitled “I spend my time inspiring others” It is about a guy who was diagnosed with AIDS in 1984. He decided that he wanted to live life proper, and that he was going to start setting world records.

Some of his records have left me speechless saying “How is that possible?”

Here are some:

Drinking 211 cups of coffee in four hours. OH MY FUCK! Can you handle this? I would die from the caffeine and so would a normal person I think. You would either die from that or from over hydration. I can’t get over this, I want to believe it but I can’t. Let’s say a cup is 250ml’s. Mother of God, that’s 52 litres of coffee. I can’t believe! You are supposed to drink 2 litres of water a day. Let’s say his coffee was water as an example. He would have drunk enough for 26 days of living. Let’s say he weighs, uh, 80kg. That’s 1.54 cups of coffee for every kilogram of body weight. Now that I give these figures, it’s starting to sound almighty fucked up.

Eating 3.8kg of calamari in four hours. No please stop.

Disco dancing for 345 hours non stop (17 days) Impossible. You can’t not fucking sleep for 17 days. All a load of shit this.

Roller skated for 390 hours non stop.

No wonder this guy has not died of AIDS, I don’t think anything can actually kill him. What a machine. Even more hardcore than Jean Claude Van Damme and Chuck. Amazing. Speechless.

1st for women insurance

Evidently also 1^st for bullshit

I always receive flyers for this “1st for women” insurance. Now I think it’s bullshit. This is all crap. The latest instalment in their advertising series was this one that I received in my post box on Friday or maybe Saturday morning. The envelope says “A man wouldn’t open this” Then inside is a letter and a sticker for your car saying “If life’s a journey, let’s hope there’s a woman driving” Um…excuse me? What have we guys done wrong now? We are always in the shit for something and now it seems to be for our driving. Maybe women don’t crash as often as guys, but I bet they cause as many accidents as us. They may not crash, but a guy will crash because of their slack skills on the road. I will be gunning it down the highway in the fast lane when suddenly a woman pulls into the fast lane at 80km/hr. I will try be the nice guy and risk my life by swerving into the barrier and rolling my car. Then women will say “God, guys are just so reckless, they have no respect for anything” Yeah, that’s exactly it. I actually can’t believe they put this in my post box. It’s so blatantly against men. It does not even say that it’s just an insurance policy for women only, it goes out of its way to make guys sound like Neanderthals. I have nothing further to say.

It's time...for Kurland polo

It’s Monday and everyone is going on holiday on Friday, so I thought I better let you in on this.

I hate to say this but I am not a big fan of this time of the year. Everyone seems to be going to a different place (even country) for their new years celebrations. People get excited for a new years party which is quite frankly just another party. Then they make all sorts of resolutions which are bullshit anyway. But yes…the most annoying thing is that everyone is split up over this time. People are always saying “I’m going to be spending time with my family” Fuck that, I always try and keep a far distance from family members all year round. So what to do in those few days before New Years Eve? I have found the solution.

And it’s the Kurland Polo in Plettenberg Bay. As you can see from the photo of the Kurland estate above, that lawn is watered with only the finest champers. If you had to invent one word that incorporates the following into it “Cocaine, champagne, MILF’s, XS, decadence, snobs, trophy wives, money, sex, aristocrat, royal pricks” then “polo” would be your word. It is an elitist sport where people go to watch it to be seen. No one even knows how the game of polo really works, they are too busy coking it up at the bar. Yes, at the bar and not the bathroom. Polo is a sport where people go to make connections and if you don’t have anything to offer people, then they will not speak to you. It is a sport where the smell of botox overshadows the smell of the freshly cut grass and horse shit. It is a sport where everyone swings. John sleeps with Peter’s wife, Peter’s wife sleeps with the polo team, Peter shags Brenda which is Ron’s wife and so on and so forth. It is like one big orgy before the lunch time Cocaine Train has even swung through the VIP tent at Kurland. Oddly enough no ugly people attend the polo either. It is a sport where even a hint of ugly in you will see you escorted into the horses feeding pen until the last person has left. It is a sport where no one even cares who they support as long as it’s the local cocaine cartel.

And it is thus a sport of sheer XS where most people don’t dare go unless they are dressed like royalty, can do drugs like Iggy Pop and consume more fluids than Paris Hilton. It’s polo. It’s XS. It’s totally off the hook. Be there.

The Kurland Polo takes place on Friday 29 December 2006 in Plettenberg Bay.

Mother*%^*@”!!!

I find it interesting that on DSTV the swear words are always beeped out on my decoder. I have to press this blue button and then choose “English-original” But then as soon as I change channels and then change back, it is back on “English-family” and the swear words are cut out again. It’s highly annoying as swearing is exactly what I want to hear. It bothered me the whole of yesterday, and in fact, the whole of this year. DSTV should always have it set to the swearing English and not the kids English. Because if they took one second to think about it, they would realise that the majority, or hell let’s go for broke here, ALL of their subscribers are adults. Am I once again asking too much? I don’t think so.

Sunday, fucking Sunday!

Sung once again to the tune of U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday

To anyone who was unfortunate enough to be on Clifton in Cape Town yesterday, I feel your pain. It turned into some sort of sandy/UV ray/oily sun cream/overcrowded dog show. I arrived there at 12:30 and eventually parked in Camps Bay and got a lift to Clifton with my mate Mike. Fourth beach had some volleyball thing going on and you could not walk it was so full. People were sitting so far forward that waves were crashing on them. How dumb can you get? So we went to third beach, where some fucking kids kept kicking and throwing sand all around us. So we decided, in the interests of their safety, to head to second beach. Well praise the lord. There were a couple of very fit women there tanning topless. Sorry, wanted to get photos but it looked a bit obvious. The one girl had a very nice boob job, it was very easy on the sun stroked eyes. I did see a nice spot to get photos from (up on the road) so next time I feel in a decidedly stalker/paparazzi mood I will head up there with my telescopic lens. Nice. But until then, enjoy the week ahead.

Someone is clearly copying us

While it seems that some other site owners have gone on holiday already, I just keep on trucking. Here’s another article. Because I can.

If you read the article about eight articles down (I really need to learn how to link these articles…in time…in time…) you will recall it was entitled “Buy our Bluetooth dongle” and it said this time of the year is a time when drugs flood the land. Wait actually to quote the article “It’s also a time where fine quality drugs enter the land in copious quantities to fuel these holidaymakers”.

As if I am a fortune teller, or a future teller or whatever, The Saturday Weekend Argus said exactly what I said. Except I said it before them, so I am better than them! I did that post on Wednesday and they only did their article on Saturday. I think I know someone who is stealing my ideas…Don’t worry Saturday Argus I will let it slide this time. Just don’t do it again. Ever. Promise you won’t? Ok, apology accepted.

Someone help! Borat is gone..

As if Borat were not legendary enough he now pulls off another stunt that is bound to have all these PC people in a spin, just before New Years, shame. Borat was nominated for some Golden Globes and Sasha Baron Cohen spoke on his behalf. This is what he had to say.

"I am extremely honoured. I'm very proud as well for my fellow writers as well as our director Larry Charles, and our producer Jay Roach, and am very thankful for the Hollywood Foreign Press Association's belief and acknowledgment of our film."

He added, "I have been trying to let Borat know this great news but for the last 4 hours both of Kazakhstan's telephones have been engaged. Eventually, Premier Nazarbayev answered and said he would pass on the message as soon as Borat returned from Iran, where he is guest of honour at the Holocaust Denial Conference."

F-u-c-k-i-n-g joking!Can you actually handle it?! That has got to be one of the funniest things I have ever heard, even more funny than the last thing where I said it has got to be one of the funniest things I have ever heard! I'm sitting here at my computer and Coke(Uhhh...the cola) is spewing out my nose while I try and think in my little head of what shit this is going to cause in the world. His humour is way beyond me...It's AWESOME! Big up Borat, you the man.

Someones out to get me...

Over the years I have cultivated an image…wait… that’s the wrong word. People have bestowed upon me this image of a virile, strong, steel eating man. However someone is out to alter this image. And it’s my very own sister.

You see she visited me a couple of days ago and left something that I only found yesterday. The past few nights I have not slept at home, not even in the kennel I normally inhabit. When I arrived home yesterday I found a People magazine under the bird bath where I now sleep( I like to sleep in different locations around the house to give me fresh inspiration) This is possibly my sisters biggest attempt to overthrow my image. She knows if she leaves it there that I will read it and write about it. This gives me the “girlie-man” image she so desperately wants me to have. To top all of this off, this particular issue of People had a picture of Britney’s underwear in it. Oh, the underwear contained Britney as well, so I saw her ass. Thank the Great God of Zion that she had underwear on.

It did contain some pearls of wisdom for me though. I went to the classifieds and found someone who can guarantee me a perfect life. The ad went as follows: “Mama Achiwajira herbalist. I am the woman who never failed, solve all your problems, no matter how big the problem is. I am a specialist with financial problems, if you want to get rich quickly, I will help you. Win lotto (God she’s amazing!) and casino” It went onto list a whole bunch of crap. I quite like the winning the lotto part. I’m definitely going to give her a call. And I expect all of you to give her a call as well. After all she says she has never failed. I wouldn’t mind winning a casino either, those places basically print money all day long. Yeah, I want to win the Bellagio or the MGM Grand.

So to my sister, thanks for trying to overthrow my image, but I think when I call this herbalist I will have the last laugh. Ha ha ha! I shall rule the world!

I also received a flyer at the traffic lights at Wynberg on Tuesday which was for another healer. It is “Traditional Healer Dr Jamilu” Apparently he can cure debt problems, ghosts and demons in your homes, and even “Satisfy your lover with fully erected penis” This is one fucked up herbalist. The scary thing is he must get a fair amount of business because I remember many months ago getting this very same flyer. It’s all too strange.

Scientists are seriously a waste of oxygen

As they tell us bullshit the kid next door already knows

In my ongoing quest to question things that no one else does, I ask this question. You always hear these random facts that you think “Yeah well it’s fucking obvious, even to children” Scientists will do a 4 year, $2 million study on McDonalds and obesity. At the end of it they will say “Excessive consumption of Big Macs will make you fat” Well who would have ever thought, Gabe? I was reading something on news24 about scientists saying that exercise can be a safer way to lose weight than dieting. Instead of doing my usual thing where I write a whole page on what bullshit this is, I’m not going to write anything more about it. I think it’s quite self explanatory how stupid these people are. I will leave you to your own thoughts on this pathetic realisation that these scientists have come to.

On the subject of shit costing money, this whole big report on Diana’s death cost 3.69 million pounds (The pounds sign is not working on my computer), I think it was pounds. But 3.69 million anything is a lot of cash. When they read the findings out on Sky News the one guy said the results were exactly as everyone had suspected. So why do the study? Seriously, waste more money next time why don’t you? Let’s have a big enquiry into why George Bush is SO intelligent. Let’s have an enquiry into why the health minister is so fucking stupid. Come on guys, get over these studies and just let it be…just let it be…

I don’t have a headline, because this is too overwhelming and very random

Random like waking up naked in your garden with your head on a papsak and your car is gone and your best mate is in your house with your girlfriend. That random.

I found myself falling asleep last night while watching Sky News. I am quite fascinated by these murders (I know this sounds strange, but I find it fascinating that no one knows who is committing them) going on in Suffolk. But the real reason I think all (Yes you too, I know you are watching right now) of us watch Sky News is because of Jeremy Thompson. This also sounds strange but hear me now. On the sky website in the one headline they refer to him as “JT” That is rock star! He was named TV news presenter of the year in 2006. I don’t know what makes him so cool that I want to listen to the same stories over and over again. Maybe it’s because he has a hint of grey hair yet his face says “I will pull Gisele” Maybe it’s because he wears a pink tie with confidence while his face says “I will still pull Gisele” Maybe it’s because even though he is repeating the same news all day, he still keeps us interested in it while his face says “I am the only person who could ever pull Gisele at the click of my fingers” Maybe it’s because he seems like an old friend that is talking to you while his face says “Not only will I pull Gisele, but I will give her such a good seeing to that her modelling career will be over” Maybe it’s because he is just so confident in his ability to pull a supermodel while his face says “Gisele, you have just been JEREMIED!” Maybe…maybe those are the reasons. Just maybe…

This is clearly what women want

It’s Ron Jeremy

With a headline like this, we should get a million viewers to this site. After all, Ron Jeremy is the number one porn star in the world. Mel Gibson had it all wrong in his movie “What women want” (was it called that?). I have, in my ongoing research into what they really want, found it to be Ron Jeremy that they really want. Forget about reading Mens Health for fitness tips and GQ for grooming tips. Chicks dig the fat and unkempt style of “The Ron”. And they dig his muzzie. Not to mention his piece. Apparently…apparently he really does have a baseball bat and I’m not talking about the type the New York Yankees use to hit the ball with. Yes, he is large. I believe the term “hung like a horse” was started in his honour. Enough of that. But all of this does not explain why he is the world’s biggest (as in most famous) porn star. He was even in the FHM ages ago where they interviewed him. It is this that perplexes me. Why the fuck do women want to be with him? He is the type of kid that get’s mocked at school. He is the type of kid that grows up and get’s the regular office job. He is the kid who has a heart attack at age 30 and pegs off. But not Ron. Ron defied all odds and became super rich. It is thus that life has no rule book. If it were by the book, Ron would either be dead, or alive and unhappy. But he has come through it all and become famous. It is for this reason alone that I feel this world is a ruthless place, where even the ugly, like Ron, become rich.

To read more about him, visit the following link: http://www.askmen.com/toys/interview/34_ron_jeremy_interview.html

The VR3: Mayhem is a dish best served cold

I saw a car driving particularly recklessly yesterday and was thinking “Sweet Nick Nolte, why is nobody hooting?” This car was swerving slightly and when the robots went green it took an eternity to take off from them. Then as I got closer I realised it had a big, red “L” on the back window, for learner driver. And then I thought “Why can’t I do this?” I mean think about this. You can drive like an absolute tool if you have this sign on your window. You can do handbrake turns, talk on your cellphone and fall asleep behind the wheel and everyone will just say “Shame, poor learner” You could cause mayhem and no one will care. I think this is beyond genius. It’s actually amazing that one human brain thought this up. You heard it here first.

As you will see the VR3 is sporting a nice big, blue “L”. With all the road rage I am going to be causing, I thought I better use a calming colour. Red is angry. Blue is calming.

Peas: A dish best served in their pods

Sometimes I think we don’t question things enough. For example, nobody seems to question Woolworths serving suggestion for their canned peas. I know this may seem insignificant, but it means that through all of Woolworths quality checks, no one has noticed this. This means there are a lot of dumb as shit people in the upper management of Woolworths If you look on a cereal box you will usually see a bowl of the cereal filled with milk. Below the picture it will say something like this: “Serving suggestion: Add low fat milk”

However, upon opening a can of Woolworths tinned peas it shows the peas, still in their pods, with the words “Serving suggestion” below this. How exactly the hell must I serve these peas in their pods? Could someone at Woolworths please explain where I can buy these empty pods? I’m fucking hungry and want to eat but I can’t because I can’t find these pods. Come on Woolworths WAKE UP!

Buy our bluetooth dongle

As computer warehouse step up the substance abuse

You always know when it’s holiday season in the Cape. People from all over the country come down here to spoil my time at the beach at the hottest time of the year. They come and throw their bodies all over our beaches, forcing us to retreat into the dark of the night. It’s also a time where fine quality drugs enter the land in copious quantities to fuel these holidaymakers. But other than that our local companies also partake in the abuse. Clearly Computer Warehouse needs help from the AA.

Take their ad near Kenilworth centre. I would take a photo but I don’t want to risk getting my camera stolen. The ad says “iPod/MP4 player. R799. 1 GIG.” What the fuck is an MP4 player? Hit them up with some more drugs. Then when I did stop my car some guy shoved this flyer into my face, even though I clearly was in no mood to take it. It says “Bluetooth dongle” What is a dongle may I ask? Hell, maybe this is a real word because spell-check is not underlining it. But what an odd choice of a word for an advert.

Tokai has been conquered

In what has evidently been my most treacherous, harrowing mission yet, I went to Tokai this morning to get you these pictures. Throwing caution to the wind and entering gates that had no entry signs on them, I risked my life. I also risked the Ebola virus, Congo fever, bird flu and altitude sickness to bring you these views.

What I did not get a photo of was this eagle/hawk type looking bird. I see it every time I am there, on the exact same rock but whenever I get near it flies away. Clearly it knows danger when it sees it.

I got a nice picture of Hout Bay (Or as Afrikaners from up country call it “Wood Bay” They translate it into English for their English friends) When I took that photo I thought to myself “It’s early in the morning, the beach is empty, I bet some foreign models are tanning topless” I’m going to check it out later.

As you can see the gates were clearly marked with no entry signs but I live life on the edge everyday so I bust through them like a man possessed. I had to dodge fire from land, sea and air from the SANDF but I survived, like true heroes do.

You will also notice a photo of a winding road, very similar to the Tour de France, only I’m a better rider. I mean that’s quite clear I think.

There is also a photo of myself just gazing over the land and admiring all that I have conquered. I caught myself off guard taking that photo, promise I was not posing.

Then some other news. On the way back I saw the same guy on Edinburgh Drive. Today he was selling an umbrella made out of that shit material (Like the material that makes fishnet curtains that some people insist on having in their houses). It also had no handle. So I don’t know what the fuck it was for. Clearly it’s no help if it’s raining or if the sun is shining, so I am now convinced he has been sipping the original formula absinthe, the one that makes you crazy. Oh, and he also asked for one cent again. Lay off the crack dude.

What a day, what a day.

More photos

These are for the above post, but all this greatness could not fit into one post. Most odd.

It is rather inconvenient

Friends of mine keep on telling me about this Al Gore documentary, An Inconvenient Truth. It is about global warming and stuff and my friends said something about “50 years” I was not really listening to them, but I take it in 50 years this earth is going to be rather trashed. Being a person that rather likes the world, I would like to save it. However having no control over our governments whatsoever, there is nothing I can do. I think we should all pack the world up and go back to the old school style of living, Amish style! Obviously we can incorporate a little new technology. We can have solar panels and shit to give us power to charge our iPods and whatever other rubbish we have bought. I would dig to just chill out and plough the fields all day, plough the ladies…wait…did I just type that out loud? Just thinking about the lifestyle relaxes me and puts me at ease. What a charming lifestyle. That was a zen like moment right there. Did you feel it? No, thought not. Anyway if we only have 50 years left then my dreams are shattered. I was planning to at least make 150 years of age. But now that this is out the window, I say we make like Hunter S Thompson. I’m not into the whole drug scene, but I think I will start getting into it. We may as well live the XS lifestyle because I think I would rather leave this planet tripping on acid and ‘shrooms and shit than die from a heat wave or a flood. So I now grant you permission to abuse your body…have fun. (This post was meant as a joke. I take no responsibility for those of you who flip out on drugs and start to believe you are a celery stick or something)

There is a naked man on my page

And it’s the enigmatic Ben Trovato

I took this photo from another photo which explains the shocking picture quality. But this is literally the only photo of the man. It’s a scary one, but a photo nonetheless. I think this one is for his (mis)guide to golf.

I don’t know if any of you read Ben Trovato’s column in the Cape Times called “On the run”, but it’s a classic. Cape Times are like the gingerbread man, I just can’t seem to catch them. His column just appears randomly so you never know which day his column will be in the paper. So you buy the paper every day even though you only want to read his column. This is a cheap way of Cape Times falsely boosting their circulation figures. Anyhow he has a couple of books out which are way under rated because I read a few of them and they are actually the funniest things you will ever read. They are hysterical. His new book “Ben Trovato’s Art of Survival” should also be good. For the past couple of months he has been writing the back page article for GQ which has garnered them a fair amount of hate mail especially from barmen who he criticised. Now he has been cut from writing the back page for GQ and I’m just waiting to see where next he pops up. After all, he is always on the run. The funny thing is that no one really knows what he looks like which adds to the enigma surrounding him. We just know of his wife Brenda and his son, the brat Clive. Even then, I don’t know if these people exist. In all his photos he is wearing a hat which partly covers his face. Actually in one photo on the golf course all he was wearing was a shirt, a hat, sunglasses and shoes. The rest of him was covered by a Big Bertha driver called a “Big Ben” How he managed to get that photo, I have no idea. I read his column the other day when he said he was in Cavendish Square on a Sunday. I was there as well on that Sunday. That is the closest I have come to actually seeing the man, but even if he was right next to me I doubt I would recognise him. He was talking about the fake snow at the bottom floor where they had Santa. He talked about whether the snow could have actually been cocaine. Shit, if only I had known. It would have been the perfect opportunity to get the kids hooked on drugs, right in front of Santa. You know you hook them young and they are customers for life. They end up being like a property you rent out. You don’t do any work yet at the same time every month (or every day) they come to you bearing gifts of money and you in turn give them coke. Maybe mixed with a little bit of baking powder, so your stash lasts longer and your bank account shoots through the roof. But that’s neither here nor there. So anyway, keep a look out for his columns and his books, they are quite entertaining. If you want to get in contact with him, which I doubt you will, Cape Times supply his e-mail address which is: freebentrovato@yahoo.com Hey, his e-mail address says all you need to know about him. Strange

I just read a letter from Trovato in the Cape Times(December 11), entitled “Camps Bay protest” He says “I was outraged to read in the weekend papers how actress Terry Norton was dragged off Camps Bay beach and thrown into a police cell for walking her dog without a leash. For a start, her dog is a lot more attractive than some of the holidaymakers I’ve seen basking like beached whales along the shoreline” As always, Trovato is sheer class.

Cape Times is playing mind games with me

Well clearly God hates me. Or someone hates me. Or everyone hates me. Because just as I wrote the other day about how much I hate Sudoku, Sunday Times sends me the Sudoku bible. Last night I went to the petrol station at about 10pm (seriously random thing to do) and bought the Cape Times and when I got home nearly flipped when I saw a Sudoku supplement. There is enough fucking Sudoku in there to fry my brain. Just look at the photo above of all the solutions. And there is a happy Christmas tree and it's a happy pink colour. How lovely. How many trees were cut down to make this supplement? Does the Cape Times have a problem with me? Are they trying to get me to leave Cape Town? Well if they carry on the way they are then they should succeed very soon.

The magazine causing all the pain...

Yesterdays language in “Ronge sends a pearler” was just fucking terrible. So today it will be toned down but it was necessary yesterday because I was in such a state of shock.

After being so shocked at Barry “Tower Rounder” Ronge in yesterdays column, I thought I would give it a rest and go back to the Sunday Times magazine today and try read the rest. Well well…seems I found more stuff. Amazing that this magazine has given me so much to write about. I could fill the whole week with articles plucked from that magazine. Here is what I found today.

Intrigued by TR’s (Tower Rounders) use of dirty language, I decided to read his article in the magazine. Barry was talking about PVR recorders and said “Another important weapon (That’s an overstatement TR, it’s just a decoder) in this audience liberation struggle is the Portable Video Recorder (PVR)…”

I think it’s Personal Video Recorder TR. I mean look at the thing, does it look portable to you? Do you just pack up your decoder (Not to mention your satellite dish) and head off for the weekend? TR, you have an addiction to pharmaceuticals of some sort, I know it. Then in a sidebar in his column it says of YouTube: “The statistics are astounding. One hundred million film clips are viewed daily on YouTube…” I read in Time magazine that YouTube has 100 million videos in its database and not that 100 million are viewed daily, because that’s a fuck load. Hey I may be wrong but I just thought I would mention it.

Then onto an advert in the magazine for Sunday Times Books. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time where kids play in the street and the sound of drug fuelled laughter fills the air. But clearly the people who chose this week’s books read TR’s work and were seriously depressed. The first book, and these are all labelled “Christmas specials”, is “Bodies of evidence: Forensic science and crime” On the cover of the book is a dead body covered by a sheet. Charming stuff. Another book is “Conspiracy Encyclopedia” which sounds light hearted. Another book is “When a crocodile eats the sun” It is “the story of the disintegration of a family…” Mmmm, the type of present you would expect to find under the Christmas tree.

Then in the review of DVD’s, Neil Sonnekus gave Failure to Launch one star. I thought the movie was perfectly OK. But that’s my view and he has his view. What I did notice was a typical movie reviewer line where he talks about the chemistry between Matthew McConaughey and Sarah Jessica Parker. He says “but there is about as much romantic frisson between these two good and attractive actors as two suburban lampposts” Do reviewers always have to try be funny? I guess it’s better than the “I would have rather watched paint dry” joke (Ha ha it’s seriously funny once you’ve heard it like…3 billion times) If one more person uses that line, ever, I think I will go mad. But yeah, I managed to cough out a laugh at his joke in between trying to choke myself.

The only fun things were the cartoons. Well done Sunday Times, you are really giving the kids something to look forward to for Christmas.

Ronge sends a pearler

To try and get my mind off the incident at the robots and the ridicule I am due to receive at the beach, I thought I would relax and read something. Having been through my Asian porn collection a thousand times I wanted something new. But those are the only magazines that I own. But lucky for me, I found the Sunday Times magazine from yesterday. So I got to Barry Ronges “Spit n’ Polish” column and he was saying what a busy time the end of the year is, especially for himself, trying to fit the work of 8 weeks into a production period of two weeks. He then delivers this pearler right to the core of my brain. I can actually feel my medulla oblongata throbbing right now. Or is that my cerebellum?

He says “Thus it was that, in pursuit of delivering topical film reviews, I found myself watching eight movies in five days, three of which involved three bad actors doing banal (What the fuck?) comedy while wearing Santa Claus suits. In addition, there were singing penguins, a chatterbox spider and a film about suburban life in America whose only sympathetic character is the town paedophile (Oh my good fuck). No wonder that, as I faced my new deadlines, I was unable to tell my art (Thinks it’s arse Bazza. You mention banal and paedophile, yet arse scares you?)) from my elbow”

Well fuck me sideways with a railway track! Bazza let me know where you getting your crack cocaine from, it sounds hectic! Let’s start at the beginning and try dissect this article one piece at a time.

Eight movies in five days? Bazza that does not take any energy whatsoever, and you have plenty of energy reserved in that tyre around your mid section. I watched eight movies once just by bunking school for a day and I did not even break a sweat. You never cease to amaze me.

Why the use of the word banal? Oh you devil you! You just wanted to slip the word “anal” into your column! Clever boy!

And then the most disturbing piece: “whose only sympathetic character is the town paedophile” So that means you sympathise with him I take it? You sympathise with a kiddy fiddler? Bazza that should dock you on Alcatraz for at least 50 years. I’m appalled. That part actually just KO’d my brain and I can’t think anymore. I’m going to go recover and when I come back I will write some more. I actually just found something to compare Barry to. A KFC tower rounder. Why? He looks all innocent and shit but once you listen to him he’s going to endanger your health (In Baz’s case, your mental health) Go in peace everyone and try and forget I ever read Bazza’s column. Good grief

What I learnt on my bike ride

It’s amazing what a simple bike ride will do for you. Other than the heatstroke and the shocking cycling tan that I have just received (Which is sure to get me ridiculed at the beach) it has cleared my head for the week of writing ahead.

Other than that, I saw something hilarious on the drive back from Tokai. I got to the robots on Edinburgh Drive (the set just before the very top ones) and I saw a guy sitting on a railing on the side of the road…drinking a Brutal Fruit! He was begging and selling stuff as well. Now he may have found this bottle of Brutal Fruit and filled it with water but it looked rather remarkably like the “Luscious Litchi” Brutal Fruit. And I decided that he looked rather fucked as well. He then came up to my window to try and sell me peanuts. This is how it went down.

He walked up and without saying a word showed me the peanuts

“No thanks” I said with an air of grace (Don’t fucking know why I wrote “air of grace”)

“One cent” He slurred

I knew know he was trying to fuck with my head. One cent? Buddy, they stopped making those like 10 years ago.

I said nothing and just stared at him.

Then a pearler

“Two cent” He said

“Please just something for food”

Fucking food? You can afford to buy Brutal Fruit at, like, R30 a 6-pack and you can’t afford food? Maybe if you stop boozing and doing Tik and weed you won’t have so much of the munchies.

No! Stop playing these fucked up mind games I’m having none of it!

“No” I said sternly

He then walked away and when he walked back past me he said something that sounded like this “Sup booms”

What the fuck he was talking about? I have no idea! Booms? I think he should stop smoking the “boom” (reefer, weed, whatever you want to call it)

It was at this moment that I cast my eye around for his crack pipe and the Filipino hooker that he has evidently been snorting coke off. I saw nothing but I did see some bushes. He probably keeps all his drugs there. I was so shocked by this whole situation that I’m trying to pretend it did not happen. So after this post I will never mention it again. Crazy times down by my side of the city.