Archive for April, 2011

21
Apr
11

HOLIDAYEEEEEE, CELEBRA-EEEEEEEEETT!

Hands up who took the three days leave that magically turns into eleven days over Easter?

 

 

If you did, you’re a fucking genius. Pat yourself on the back for that shit and go immediately to bar, do not pass go, do not collect 200.

I took those three days because I, like you, am pretty much one of the smratest people ON THE PLANET!

Needless to say, posting might get a little patchy over the next two weeks. We’re taking a road trip up to Knysna along the garden route and then further up to the Eastern Cape to hit some killer spots like Kenton and Port Alfred.

 

 

Fingers crossed this cold front passes soon and leaves one last glorious taste of summer in its wake.

Sunshine and good times people. That’s where it’s at Winking smile

So take care of your bad selves over the Easter period. Be safe and celebrate Christ’s brutal crucifixion and somewhat creepy return from the grave by eating little chocolate eggs and Lindt rabbits while I practise some crucifixion and returning from the dead myself.

 

 

Catch you crazy fuckers on the other side.

-ST

19
Apr
11

Is it ok to just post a cartoon of Tarzan Propositioning What Looks Like A young Boy Inappropriately In Hilariously Bad English Whilst Riding An Elephant Today? It’s Not? Um. Crap

 

 

Ten points if you spotted Pedo Bear.

-ST

18
Apr
11

It’s Happened Again…

Remember that story I told you guys about when J-Rab fell down the stairs and I got all creeped out because I thought people would think I was secretly beating her and I’d get arrested and spend a good long time in prison getting nailed in the corn hole?

It’s happened again.

We went ice-skating on Saturday night and one minute everything was cool, everything was fun and we were going around and around the rink, easy peesy Japanesey.

 

 

Then I decided to up the tempo a little and start skating at an inhumanly fast pace because, well, I’m a guy and we’re retarded like that.

Poor J-Rab was skating like her life depended on it trying to keep up and basically skating on one skate at a time to get some nice momentum going when she hit a huge divot in the ice and lost her shit.

Out of the corner of my eye I just saw limbs flailing and my stomach instantly lurched as I turned my head just in time to see J-Rab literally land on her face.

 

 

I instantly lost my shit as well because going fast is easy, but stopping can be tricky when the side of the rink isn’t there to conveniently bash into.

I ended up falling too, but in a totally controlled way that involved me going into a downward-facing dog position as I used my hands to slow me down, managed to turn around and then skated straight into one of the guys trying to help her back up.

Luckily she didn’t break anything, but she got some nasty scrapes and bruises and it definitely looks like she’s been in a fight.

Wonderful. Nothing quite like the judgemental, disapproving stares of total strangers whenever we’re out in public together and they happen to glance our way.

“Fell ice skating, eh? Sure buddy, just like the time she fells down the stairs, right? We’d like you to please come with us…”

 

 

I’m thinking of creating a protective foam suit that encases J-Rab so she can just bounce off things like a marshmallow and not get so fucked up all the time.

If anyone else out there has girlfriends (or boyfriends) that are equally as clumsy I’m happy to build you one too. We’ll have to negotiate a fee of course, but when you think how many hospital bills you’ll be saving, I’m sure you’ll agree its totally worth it.

-ST

15
Apr
11

Happy National Cleavage Day

So glad it’s National Cleavage Day today cause I got fuck all to post about otherwise – yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-ha!

Thank Jeebers for small miracles right? (And large ones if you catch my meaning, wink wink, nudge nudge).

Anyway, here’s a whole lot of pics to celebrate the wonder that is women’s breasts.

Oh yeah, and play this killer track while you check these pics out, courtesy of http://gobarbra.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are we good? Great.

Have a killer weekend Winking smile

-ST

14
Apr
11

Hipsters – why the fuck?

I’ll tell you straight up that I hate pretentious wankers about as much as I hate taking out the trash only to find out that a warm stream of garbage juice has dribbled down my jeans from a hole in the bottom of the bag.

There are a number of factors that lead to people becoming pretentious wankers, but right at the top of the list is definitely a chronic insecurity in themselves that manifests in them putting everyone else around them down to feel better about their shit lives.

They distance themselves from the mainstream because it makes them feel superior and unique. They disagree with everyone about basically everything because they think it makes them seem intelligent and they regard the rest of humanity with their noses upturned because the idea that we’re all basically the same terrifies them.

 

 

Which brings us to hipsters who, if you strip all the bullshit romanticism out of it, are really just a bunch of pretentious wankers and sadly Cape Town is like a petri dish for these ridiculous arseholes.

Here, in no particular order, are the top ten things hipsters love:

 

  • Silently judging everyone
  • Elaborate scarves
  • Cute little hats
  • Vinyl records
  • Irony (the snooty kind)
  • Wayfarers
  • Skinny jeans
  • Indie bands that are shit
  • Bragging about some rad little bistro they found down some obscure back alley that is actually shit
  • Stealing fashion trends from the opposite sex

 

Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for being weird and expressing yourself hell, just read this fucking site, but the thing that gets to me about a lot of these jerks is that they have absolutely no sense of humour.

People that don’t laugh about life, the universe and everything (especially themselves) really piss me off because c’mon! Open your fucking eyes! It’s all a joke man!

I say ‘a lot of these jerks’ because there is such a thing as a hipster with a sense of humour and those cats are alright by me.

Here are a couple of pics from Regretfulmorning.com to better illustrate what I’m talking about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hipsters of the world, lighten up. Drop the pretence and come out of your little shells, life’s too short to spend it sitting by yourself in the corner of some pseudo-European coffee shop drinking espressos, smoking rolleys and reading Kafka.

Wonderboy, life’s just begun. Turn that sorrow into wonder Winking smile

-ST

13
Apr
11

Tiger In The Hilton

Being one of South Africa’s preeminent bloggers definitely has its perks – free flights to exotic destinations, free accommodation in luxury resorts, a zippy little Audi R4 to just drive where ever the hell I want and invites to sick launch events where I’m treated like royalty are just some of the spoils of being basically the most badass blogger in the country.

Yesterday was no different, I was invited to the media launch of the new Hilton Hotel on Buitengracht and wow, that place is p1mped to the max.

 

 

 

 

Lets jump straight to some bullet points about this shiny new hotel because they’re way easier to write than actual sentences:

 

  • 137 rooms in total
  • 65 King Deluxe Rooms
  • 34 twin rooms
  • 16 Executive King Delux Rooms (basically the most face-meltingly awesome hotel room you’ve ever seen, about the same size as the flat I live in)
  • 8 floors of rad
  • 7 one bedroom suites
  • 5 Executive Twin Rooms

 

So what who cares, it’s a hotel with a bunch of rooms, this city’s FULL of them right? Well, here’s what I like to call the ‘magic dust’ that makes this hotel pretty damn awesome (and no, I don’t mean Colombian blow, I mean the stuff that comes out of the end of Tinkerbell’s wand. Um, wait. That sounded wrong…)

If you stay at the Hilton you get:

 

  • 24-Hour in-room dining service
  • Laundry / valet service
  • Wi-Fi internet
  • DVD player
  • Hair drying and shaving facilities
  • In-room electronic safe
  • Outdoor heated swimming pool
  • Fitness centre, sauna and steam room

 

 

All in all, it’s a pretty sweet hotel, of course, I’d have to actually stay in the place to give it the full, in-depth review it deserves but the two hours that I spent at the media function were neat-o!

We were taken on a full tour of the place during which they told us that the hotel also has a bunch of built-in, eco-friendly features like the lift lights only turn on when the doors open and people get in and all the power in the rooms is switched off until you swipe your card at the door.

There are also three restaurants in the hotel, Bistro 126, Mezbaan Indian Restaurant and Signal Hill Terrace, each with its own different vibe and signature dishes. We sampled some finger foods from Mezbaan and phwoar! They were amazing.

Then at the end of it all, we were given gigantic media packs that comprised of neat little high quality hubblies, a box full of traditional Indian spices that you can pretty much never find at Pick ‘n Pay and some delicious filter coffee that I sampled this morning which might also explain why all these sentences are so goddamn long (breathe damnit Tiger, breathe).

A big thanks to the folks at Fleishman-Hillard for putting together a killer event and the kief ous from the Hilton Hotels group (especially Peter – he’s a rockstar) for taking us around the place and not giving me dirty looks when I set my champagne refilling switch to ‘infinite repeat’.

I blame Yummy. It was all his fault.

 

 

Roll credits.

-ST

12
Apr
11

Fight Club For Chicks

I don’t know how I missed this band. It’s a double edged sword because part of me is like “What the fuck how could these guys slip off my radar? What kind of music junkie am I?” but the other part of me is like “FUCK YEAH A NEW BAND THAT ISN’T SHIT!”

Because a lot of them are shit, trust me, I wade through piles of it on a monthly basis so that you don’t have to.

Which brings us neatly to today’s band, Nico Vega, who dropped their eponymous debut album two years ago. I got my hands on it last week and can’t stop playing it.

It’s fucking sexy man, jayziz! The singer, Aja Volkman has this incredible voice that at times sounds like Florence Welch (from Florence and the Machine) and at others sounds like Karen O (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and man has she got a pair of lungs on her, her scream makes the hairs on my neck stand up.

So yeah, watch this video for one of their tracks “Gravity” and you’ll see exactly what I mean.

Just be warned though, this shit’s violent as fuck.

It’s like Fight Club for chicks Winking smile

 

 

Happy Tuesday.

-ST

11
Apr
11

The Ministerial Handbook – Our Government’s “Get Out Of Jail Free” Card

If there’s one book I’d KILL to get my hands on, it would be the Ministerial Handbook, because I can guarantee you, there’d be some pretty goddamn interesting reading in that evil little tome of indulgence sponsored by you and I, the honest tax-paying chumps of this country.

The Ministerial Handbook sets down what remuneration packages and perks ministers are allowed, can you imagine that shit? Chances are it’s only three pages long; page one is all the publishing information, page two is the title and page three just says “Go wild”.

 

 

Take our good buddy the Minister of Co-operative Governance and Traditional Affairs, Sicelo Shiceka, who looks alarmingly like Mike Tyson minus the scary face-tattoos. It has recently come to light that this crooked basterd has run up a laundry list of expenses which, according to the Sunday Times article that ran in yesterday’s paper, include:

 

  • R335 000 flying first class with his personal assistant and staying in a five-star hotel to visit his girlfriend in prison in Switzerland;
  • Another R32 000 to hire a chauffeur-driven limo for the prison visit;
  • R640000 in one year for Shiceka and a handful of staff to stay at the One & Only – of which, he admits, R280 000 was spent on him alone;
  • R55 793 for a one-night stay at the One & Only during President Jacob Zuma’s first State of the Nation address, justifying taking a sangoma with him by saying the man was his "father figure"; and
  • More than R160 000 in eight months flying 10 family members – including his estranged wife and current girlfriend – around the country at taxpayers’ expense

 

So here’s a guy who has a girlfriend in prison in Switzerland (she was taken down for a drug charge), digs flying his family around with OUR money and missions around with a sangoma who he claims is his “father figure”.

Is this guy fucking pimping or what?!

Oh, and it turns out the sangoma isn’t really a sangoma (Shiceka admitted he had no idea whether the guy is a sangoma or not) but stuck by his claim that the guy is his “father figure”. Yeah, whatever buddy we know the guy’s your personal dealer, don’t be clever.

 

 

But it’s all good in the hood yo, because apparently the Ministerial Handbook says it’s totally fine to fly your dealer around and put him up in 5 star luxury accommodation and apparently the handbook also says it’s fine to fly your extended family, including your girlfriend and estranged wife around the country at our expense too.

What a fucking sweet book! No matter how much of the honest tax payer’s money you splurge, the Ministerial Handbook has your ass covered homes, just don’t even worry about that shit, you’re a MINISTER – go wild!

And here I am scraping change out of the couch to try and cover petrol money for a road trip over Easter and this Gigantic Douche is taking my fucking tax money and blowing it on 183 flights in one year! That means every second fucking day he was flying somewhere!

 

 

I feel cheated. I want that tax money back goddamnit! Add up all his fucking expenses and reimburse us, we never signed up for this shit! I’m not working my ass off 7-5 every goddamn day to pay for a buncha freeloaders to swan around the country in 5 star luxury.

Of course, this kind of thing happens all the time here in good ol’ Saffrica , but I dunno, aren’t you guys getting fucking sick and tired of reading shit like this?

Throw the prick in jail, that’s what I say, and in the meantime anyone know where I can get my hands on a copy of the Ministerial Handbook? Something tells me it’ll be an entertaining read, right up there with the Satanic Bible and The Anarchist’s Cookbook.

-ST

08
Apr
11

Everybody Needs To Watch THis. Invaluable Information.

Living in South Africa can be rough. At many times in people’s lives they are subjected to the horrendous ordeal of watching an entire cross-section of our country’s male population urinating in public places such as street corners, parks, art museums and on one particularly traumatising occasion, by the frozen veggies section of Pick ‘n Pay.

Guys, it doesn’t have to be this way. Please take the time to watch this highly educational and informative video entitled “How To Piss In Public” and do be sure to thank me later.

 

Big thanks to Civilian for that one, you rock, keep the good shit coming.

I hope you were taking notes. There WILL be a test later.

Have a killer weekend Winking smile

-ST

08
Apr
11

Please Dear God Let Today End Soon

You know that feeling when your brain swells to twice its normal size in your skull, your tongue tastes like you’ve been licking dog asshole and your guts are a soupy mess, threatening to rupture at any given moment?

I know that feeling. Right now I AM that feeling.

Holy shit did we party last night.

When you leave the house dressed like this, you know shit’s gonna get fucked up but good.

 

 

We called it a “Dan Nash Bash”, it was the leaving party for the man himself who has left our company to move onto bigger, better things and because ol’ Nash loves a good party, the entire office showed up in full force and started hitting the sauce with gusto.

J-Rab looked sexy as hell and I looked like at any minute I might just whip out a six shooter and shoot holes in the ceiling whilst yelling “Yeeeee-ha!” in my best Yosemite Sam voice.

At least once in my life I want to party somewhere way out in the desert where I can actually shoot holes in the ceiling. How fucking cool would that be? Slam a tequila back and open fire until it’s raining plaster and ceiling fan.

 

 

I had to lose the beard after awhile though because I kept eating bits of it and it got pretty soggy. Also, it was cutting circulation off to the bottom half of my face which wasn’t ideal.

 

 

The man you see in that photo is one of the best shooters I know, name of Blommie. He’s got a natural eye for filming shit and can work wonders in an editing suite.

Also, he parties like a muthufukkah and is totally fine with getting up onto the bar counter, dancing around a bit and dropping trou. Yeah, Nash and I might have joined him on that mission…

I dunno. Right then and there, it just seemed like the right thing to do.

Then the girls got a hold of my beard and this happened.

 

 

Not sure how much more I can really write about last night right now. The pictures are making me feel drunk again.

Here’s my favourite though.

 

 

And so in closing, here’s a quote from the movie I just referenced that jumped into my mind and seems somehow fitting…

“Mickey: The whole world’s comin’ to an end, Mal!
Mallory: I see angels, Mickey. They’re comin’ down for us from heaven. And I see you ridin’ a big red horse, and you’re driving them horses, whippin’ ’em, and the’re spitting and frothing all ‘long the mouth, and the’re coming right at us. And I see the future, and there’s no death, ’cause you and I, we’re angels…
Mickey: I love you, Mal.
Mallory: I know you do baby, and I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

Party on Wayne.

-ST