Archive for October, 2010



21
Oct
10

Album Review: Brandon Flowers – Flamingo

The Killers had a good thing going. Both Hot Fuss and Sam’s Town shook up the music scene with their hook-heavy indie ballads, foot-tappingly infectious riffs and Brandon Flowers’ primal sincerity in nearly every line he sang.

 

 

But with the release of Day And Age music critics began suspecting that the band was losing the magic that made The Killers killer. The band did what every band does when they start running out of ideas, they played it safe and as a result Day And Age had very little going for it and ended up turning a lot of diehard fans off The Killers altogether.

So it was no real surprise when Brandon Flowers announced he was striking out alone and even less of a surprise when the first single off Flamingo landed sounding almost exactly like the material Flowers used to play with The Killers.

Give it a few listens though and it quickly becomes apparent that while there are a lot of similarities between The Killers and Flowers’ solo album, there are enough differences to keep it interesting and given time, Flamingo reveals an amazing depth that it’s easy to miss if you aren’t listening carefully.

Click here for the whole enchilada…

-ST

20
Oct
10

Computer Retarded

My uncle is a fucking cool guy, but he’s computer retarded.

And yeah, I know what you’re thinking – maybe he posts dumb updates on Facebook or clicks ‘reply to all’ on emails and says things that make everyone cringe, but no, it’s much worse than that.

 

 

He uses a mouse that has a ball in it and the ball’s so full of gunk you end up looking like a complete spazz when you use it because you have to push the mouse across the pad five times to move the cursor from one side of the screen to the other.

Doesn’t phase my uncle though. He uses the machine because it has Microsoft Word and email, both of which he can sort of use. I tried to explain the internet to him once, but he flat out refused to understand what I was telling him.

So I take him three audio CDs that I’ve burned him and he tells me it’s cool, he’s recently learned how to play CDs on his computer, so he’s gonna give it a go.

I stand back and watch while he pushes the mouse backward and forward across the mouse pad a couple of times, all the while dragging desktop icons randomly around the place and dropping them into folders where they don’t belong.

Finally he positions the cursor over Winamp and double clicks it.

‘Cool,’ I say, ‘yeah that should be able to play the CDs.’

‘Yes. My friend showed me how this works.’

‘Ok,’

We stare at the screen. Nothing happens. My uncle double clicks again.

‘Um. I think just give it s-‘

He double clicks again.

‘Just give it a little time to open th-‘

He double clicks again.

‘Um.’

We stare at the screen. Still nothing happens.

‘Maybe just put the CD in and see if it picks it up,’ I suggest.

‘Ok,’ he says and switches the computer off. We stare at the screen.

‘Why… did you just do that?’

‘Oh shit. Is it off?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh. Sorry, I was trying to open it.’

‘Ok, that’s this button,’ I said, pointing to the eject button next to the CD drive. ‘So just… switch it on again…” I said and patiently waited while Windows Professional 2000 rebooted.

Once it was back up he wasted no time in double clicking the Winamp icon again and then one more time just to be sure.

‘Cool… lemme just put the CD in…” I said, hitting the eject button.

He double clicks again. The CD drive closes. He double clicks again.

After a few seconds, the CD drive makes a sound like an old hoover and starts playing t. he. C. D. lik. e. th. is.

‘Is it broken?’ he said, baffled.

‘Um, no. You’ve opened Winamp six times.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘So let’s just close a few of these… hit play again… and… it’s a done deal…’

‘Ok, now it’s playing fine.’

‘Cool, can you remember that?’

‘No.’

‘Ok,’

‘Want a beer?’

‘God yes.’

And that’s what it’s like with computer retarded people. You can’t change them, but as long as there’s beer, everyone’s happy.

-ST

19
Oct
10

My New BFF Smirnoff – The Plot Thickens

You guys aren’t gonna believe this.

So despite the fact that I shot holes through their new campaign and had a laugh at DJ Fresh and Euphonik’s co-written response (click here for a recap), it would appear that the folks at Smirnoff still wanna be pals.

 

 

I cracked the nod to attend this exclusive event Smirnoff are hosting on Friday where they’re going to be revealing all kinds of stuff about this whole Nightlife Experience shebang including, but not limited to:

  • What South Africa has packed in its crate!
  • Where we’re sending it! and
  • Which country’s crate is coming to us!

And there I’ll be, at ground zero when this all gets revealed like some kind of sold-my-soul-to-Satan corporate whore blogger.

 

 

But I mean c’mon, it’s high time the Tiger got some kick-backs from this whole blogging gig. I mean, I share a cubicle with Nash from Bangers&Nash and that guy gets so much free shit it’s embarrassing.

Next on the Tiger’s agenda: write a post about how lousy Maseratis are, how X-Boxes are a dying fad and how houses in Camps Bay are shit.

Don’t hate the player hate the game yo!

-ST

18
Oct
10

Goodbye Rocko

I knew it was going to be rough for J-Rab when she eventually had to say goodbye to Rocko, our favourite of the fourteen Anatolian Sheepdog puppies we’ve been raising, so it was no surprise to me when she called in tears to say he was gone.

But what killed me was how fucking unhelpful the Express Air staff were. They left J-Rab completely by herself to pack the four puppies who were too little to be proper sheepdogs into these tiny crates so they could be flown up to Joburg.

The crates were full of shit-covered old newspaper and were so small the puppies couldn’t turn around in them, so naturally J-Rab lost it completely, tore all the newspaper out the crates and used the puppy blankets she’d brought with to line them instead.

And all the while the puppies didn’t make a peep and let her put all four of them inside their crates without making a sound because they’ve learnt to trust her and they know she’d never hurt them.

But when she had to shut the crates and lock them, one by one the puppies started crying and there was nothing she could do, nothing at all except walk away and probably never see them again for as long as they live.

Fuck, I felt all choked up when she told me the story and I wasn’t the one who watched every one of them be born and who fed them from when they were little furry worms right up until today, when J-Rab kissed them goodbye for the last time.

Life is just plain fucked up sometimes. On Wednesday the rest of the puppies go and I guess life just goes back to normal, like none of it ever happened.

I’ll miss Rocko though, he was an amazing dog. I just hope he gets a good, loving home and people who’ll look after him and treat him right.

Good luck to ya Rocko little buddy, grow up big and strong and brave. Life ain’t gonna be the same without you, but for as long as this junkyard site stands we’ll remember you and probably even if it doesn’t.

 

 

Your dad.

-ST

17
Oct
10

Hai-ya!

People tell me they have crazy families, but I just keep quiet.

This is my cousin She-Ninja, inches away from kicking her brother, Captain Albatross, right in the head.

 

 

You wouldn’t believe how many times we had to try this to get it right, but man, it was so worth it 😉

-ST

16
Oct
10

Saturday On The Farm

It’s not all bad. I know I wrote that post about how living here is hellish, but it has it’s moments.

We took these pics today when we got back from spending the afternoon on the beach.

Good times 😉

 

 

 

 

I guess sometimes the shitty things make you forget the good ones.

That’s the lesson today kids. Remember to always remember that when you take a step back to appreciate it, your life is pretty damn amazing.

-ST

15
Oct
10

The Halfway Mark

This is officially the halfway mark on my Red October mission. It is also officially the end of a long-ass week that I’m really thankful I got through alive.

To celebrate, I plan to do the following activities in my wooden shit-shack:

  • Drink

So while I’m smashing my way through some exceptionally fine single malt (I feel a cheeky dram of Talisker coming on) I would like you to meet my friend Melissa Riso.

 

 

What do you reckon? Five out of ten? Six? I think six is fair. Good job Melissa, that bonus point is for always flossing.

Aaaaaaaaand, I’m done.

-ST

14
Oct
10

Help The TIger Find A Flat And Win!

Guys, some crazy news.

J-Rab and me are moving out of the wooden shit-shack we’re been living in for the last 8 months in Stellenbosch and are heading into the beautiful sea-side city of Cape Town itself, PRAISE JESUS HALLELULYA!

 

 

It hasn’t been easy living out here on this wine farm in Stellies. I mean, people come around to visit the place and they’re all like “Aww, it’s so cosy!” Which pisses us off no end because it’s not fucking cosy, ok?

It’s a fucking hell-hole of sleeplessness, anguish and rats. That’s right, rats. Our shed-of-a-house is infested with large, nasty, fucking smart rats who break in at night and stomp around eating our food like they own the fucking place!

Or at least they used to. Eventually the lack of sleep drove me insane(r) and I bought enough Racumin to poison an army of the fuckers. I then waited for nightfall and crept around in the dark, mumbling incoherent nonsense and giggling under my breath as I lobbed little sachets of the poison under the house and imagined the evil fuckers twitching and writhing uncontrollably while the poison ripped through their central nervous-systems like loose shrapnel.

And don’t even fucking get me started on the owls, Egyptian geese, Anatolian Shepherds, roosters, tractors and other random shit that robs us of our sleep nightly. I mean fuck’s sake, what the fuck did we do to deserve this hellish existence? What?!?!

 

 

Sure, it’s rent free. Sure living here is part of J-Rab’s job, but y’know what? They can shove this shack-of-shit, we’re done here. The commute in and out of the city centre where I work is killing me, as is the insomnia and the smell of dead, rotten rats under our floorboards.

Anyway. Enough about that.

So here’s the deal. We need a new place, a nice 1-bedroom, 1-bathroom flat somewhere central in Cape Town with a great garden (communal is fine), a killer view, parking for two cars, a nice kitchen and a robot like they have in The Jetsons to clean the dishes and wash our clothes and stuff.

 

 

If you know any friends moving out of a place that fits the bill, fire a mail off to tellthetiger@gmail.com and you could stand the chance to win an official SlickTiger Them’s Fightin’ Words T-shirt that is guaranteed to get you laid.

So don’t delay! Write in now and this amazing T-shirt could be yours! Oh, and I’ll also put up a post about how you are an exceptional human being, cooler than Jesus even.

Fair deal right? 😉

Have a killer weekend.

-ST

13
Oct
10

Gig Review: The Show Must Go On (Queen Tribute Show)

You gotta dig a guy like Freddie Mercury. It’s practically a law! Not only was he a musical genius and a phenomenal singer, but the man was rumoured to have once thrown a party so wild it had midgets roaming around with trays of cocaine strapped on their heads for guests to schnarf off.

 

 

His life was the stuff of legend – he wore crazy outfits, he had the stage presence of a young stallion and he sung some of the most memorable rock songs and ballads of all time.

Just watch the passionate vehemence with which people act out the coda (“I’m just a poor boy from a poor family…”) of “Bohemian Rhapsody” before last round gets called at the local bar and you’ll know that for as long as there is music, there will always be Queen. And so it was with realistic expectations that I went on a Thursday to the opening night of The Show Must Go On at the Roxy Revue Bar in GrandWest Casino and to be honest, it was exactly how I imagined it – a lot of fun, if you’re 45 or older.

Click here to read the whole enchilada…

-ST

12
Oct
10

A Thought For Lisa

I understand that people have their own idiosyncrasies and kooky things they say and do, that’s the beauty of being human, I get that.

Some people, when they’re taking a photo they say “cheese” – that’s pretty stock standard. We’ve all been cheesed at some point in our lives.

Other people, they might say something more fitting for the occasion, like say they’re taking a shot of a winning sport’s team, they might tell them to all say “FUCK YEAH!” or something else along those lines, I dunno, fuck me it’s been a long day.

Everyone in our office got a huge shock a few weeks back when one of the women we work with (we’ll call her Lisa) who we love dearly and who is married with two kids was diagnosed with cancer.

I personally have all the time in the world for Lisa because she’s an honest, hard-working and happy person who I’ve always gotten along with really well and who I have a lot of respect for. It was a hard blow for us all when she announced she had been diagnosed with cancer and was starting chemo treatment the following week.

She’s too young for this shit. Why the fuck. Why the fuck do the worst things happen to the best people?

We all wore bandanas to work today and posed for a group pic that we could send to Lisa. Something small, a gesture of kindness at a time when she needs it most.

We had to get someone from the office next door to take the pic and when this person had the shot all lined up, what did she tell us to smile and say?

“Cancer.”

She told us to smile and say cancer.

It was a moment of sublime ignorance, one that would usually make me crack up because of how wrong it was, but not today.

Today my faith in our kind decreased by one, I dunno, today I just felt shitty about everything, just fucking shitty about fucking everything.

I think that people block a lot of life out because if you had to stop and think about it all you’d lose your fucking mind.

Lisa shouldn’t have to suffer like she is.

If you believe in the healing power of a kind thought, spare one for Lisa. She’s a good person, one of the few, and I know she’ll get better, she has to get better.

I know she’ll get better.

 

 

-ST