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13
Jan
10

The Only Vampire I ever Gave A Shit About

By SlickTiger 5 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I don’t know what the dealy-o is with vampires right now, but it seems everyone’s going apeshit over them. It’s really fucking lame, and to put it bluntly, more than a little gay if you ask me, especially the Twilight kind of vampire – they sparkle in sunlight? Seriously? And people like this shit?

 

 

The Oatmeal’s take on How Twilight Works is probably the best summary of the entire franchise and makes me glad I haven’t wasted any time reading the books or watching the movies.

Maybe I’m missing out, maybe Twilight could have changed my life for the better. For the sake of at least having an informed opinion, I’ve often thought of reading the books or watching the movies, but right as I’m about to do it, this overwhelming feeling of ‘meh’ creeps up on me and I decide to do something else instead, like pluck my nose hairs or make a sammich.

I’ve read a couple of books dealing with Vampires, the most notable of which would probably be the Anne Rice Vampire Chronicles (Interview With A Vampire, Lestat, Queen Of The Damned, Tale Of The Body Thief and Memnoch The Devil) and to be honest, always found the whole vampire genre to actually be a thinly disguised exploration of homosexuality and sexual deviance.

 

 

What a load.

BUT, there is one Vampire I really identified with because his story wasn’t a sordid, dressed up sexual fantasy, but rather an awesome exploration into the nature of addiction.

I’m talking about Cassidy from the best goddamn graphic novel series I ever read, The Preacher.

If you’re into really violent and gripping fiction, do yourself a favour and go and buy all of The Preacher series right now, it’s an awesome story about a Preacher from Texas (Jesse Custer) who gets possessed by an entity named Genesis which allows him to command the Word Of God.

 

 

It’s a badass superpower – his eyes light up all red and anything he says people obey without question, sometimes with hilarious consequences, like when an entire platoon of army guys are trying to gun Jesse and his girlfriend Tulip down and he turns to them, eyes blazing, and screams ‘Fuck off!’

They immediately drop their weapons and just start running in the opposite direction into the desert, at which point one of them looks nervously at his buddy and says, ‘For how long?’ The implication, of course, is forever.

So what does Mr Custer do with his newfound power? Well, he commands the heavenly host down from the ether and demands to know what has happened and subsequently finds out that the natural order is falling to pieces because God has left his throne and left his creation to go to shit.

Jesse’s mission after that is simple, track God down and kick his ass.

Jesse is a great character because he hardly ever uses his superpower, choosing rather to use his fists to solve the various problems he encounters on his journey. Right in the beginning of the series he meets and befriends Cassidy, who is intrigued by Jesse and decides to join him on his mission.

Cassidy is Irish and is a full-blown alcoholic. He’s an unshaven, charming rogue who never takes his sunglasses off and fucking loves nothing more than getting wasted, getting laid and partying like his life depends on it. He’s a happy-go-lucky kind of dude and from the moment he steps into the story, you can’t help but like him.

Him and Jesse form a close friendship really fast, even though Jesse finds it a little strange that Cassidy sleeps for most of the day under a heavy tarpaulin sheet in the back of Jesse’s truck and basically avoids the sun at all costs.

Then one night the two of them get into a fight with a bunch of rednecks, one of whom plunges a knife into Cassidy’s eye, right through his sunglasses. Instead of reacting, Cassidy just stands there calmly, pulls the knife out, tears the guy’s throat out with his teeth and starts drinking him dry.

I forget exactly what Jesse’s reaction is, but he says something like, ‘Holy shit! You’re a…’

At which point Cassidy lets the guy’s dead body fall to the floor, and, grinning from ear to ear, blood all over his face says, ‘That’s right. The “V” word…’

 

 

He’s one of the best characters I’ve ever read. He’s a lousy fighter, but because he’s a vampire, he has super human strength and can heal from any wound, so it doesn’t really matter. In fights he only needs to land one decent punch and his opponent’s bones shatter like glass.

He gets fucked up over and over and over again, but just keeps coming back for more, nothing can stop him. Also, he doesn’t need to drink blood to sustain himself, it just helps him heal faster if he’s been fucked up badly, otherwise he can eat normal food, drink booze, have sex and do everything a normal person does, he just can’t be in the sun too long or he starts to burn up.

However, about halfway through the series Jesse starts meeting characters that know Cassidy and they all start warning Jesse about him, telling Jesse he has no idea who Cassidy really is, what he’s done or what he’s capable of doing and they’re right.

Cassidy is a monster. He was turned back in 1916 and once he found out how powerful he was, he indulged every hedonistic whim that came his way. He dived headfirst into a life of drugs, alcohol, partying and lots of sex, and because he was such a loveable guy, he made a lot of friends and was really popular in the circles he moved in.

Before long, he discovered heroine and encourageed his friends and his lover to do it with him. Over time, it destroys his friends completely, their lives fall to pieces, they become heavily addicted, spurred on by Cassidy’s appetite for the stuff.

Eventually, his friends start dying around him, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He looks like total shit, and at his lowest point, lives in a derelict building, feeding off the rats he finds and prostituting himself on the streets to feed his habit.

 

 

He eventually manages to recover from his addiction, but by that time the lives of all the people that were close to him are completely ruined.

Cassidy ends up sleeping with Jesse’s girlfriend after Jesse is thrown from a plane and believed to be dead. Tulip is so distraught, she starts doing sleeping pills and tranquilisers with Cassidy and the two hole them selves up in a motel and live out their days like two junkies, trying to kill the pain of Jesse’s ‘death’.

Cassidy turns out to be the monster everyone said he was because he can’t control his vices and because he lives outside the rules that apply to everyone else. The story does actually have a happy ending, but you’re gonna have to read it yourself to find it out 😉

I think it’s the most accurate depiction of what most people would do if they were ‘turned’. All this nancy Vampire bullshit that seems to be so damn popular in the media right now is a pile of wanky shit if you ask me.

Just read The Preacher. You can thank me later 🙂

-ST

12
Jan
10

Men, Males and Bitches – The SLickTiger Guide To Guys

By SlickTiger 6 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts and Tiger Guides
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

If I had a buck for every time I’ve heard men complain about how complicated women are, I swear, I’d be living on a 300ft yacht, anchored off the coast of the Caribbean, sipping expensive champagne and working earnestly on my tan and that novel I’ve been planning.

 

 

However, the opposite is also true – men are equally as complicated as women, if not more so in some circumstances.

Gone are the days of our grandparents where there were stringent guidelines in place that dictated the duties and behaviour of men and women in society. These days anything goes which, don’t get me wrong, I think is a great thing, but has sadly also lead to both men and women losing their way and experiencing mounting frustration when it comes to not only figuring the opposite sex out, but figuring themselves out as well.

The changing roles of men and women in this fucked up world is a subject I think about often when I’m people-watching or engaging with people in social circumstances and one that lead me into a conversation about guys with my girlfriend last night where a sudden epiphany struck me.

I believe that the broad category of ‘guys’ can be broken down into three basic sub-categories into which almost any guy you meet will fit perfectly, and those categories are ‘Men’, ‘Males’ and ‘Bitches’.

This lightbulb moment is inspired by nothing more than the observations I have made over the last 26 years of being alive, and spurred on by the fact that I love nothing more than to engage with, observe and try and carefully take people apart to figure out what makes them tick.

So, starting at the bottom of the list, here’s the SlickTiger breakdown of the 3 categories that guys fall into:

 

BITCHES

The most defining characteristics of this group of guys are a total lack of backbone, an overriding obsession with themselves and an inability to overcome their insecurities.

Bitches are more concerned with their hair, nails, skin, cologne, clothes and shoes than even their own girlfriends are and go to painstaking lengths to ensure they look and smell immaculate at all times, whether they’re going out to a club or driving three blocks to drop off a DVD.

 

 

In social situations they have a tendency to be extroverted to a cringe-worthy degree as they vie constantly for the attention of the group and have an irritating laugh that is completely fake and bursts from them like rapid machine gun fire.

Typically they have more girl friends than guy friends because they love to gossip and they make for great companions when it comes to shopping for a new blouse or a killer pair of heels for the girls night you have planned.

At this point I think it needs to be said that Bitches are not necessarily gay. Gay men don’t all just fall into one category, gay guys can be Men, Males or Bitches. The media loves to portray gay men as flamboyant, raging queens, but in the real world this stereotype doesn’t always hold true.

It’s not all bad though, bitches have some redeeming qualities as well – they are completely in touch with their emotions, can often be really funny and, provided they can actually get over themselves, can be surprisingly thoughtful and understanding when life is kicking you in squarely in the guts.

The biggest issue I have with Bitches though is that they have no problem whatsoever with looking you straight in the eye and lying through their teeth. Nothing is ever their fault and they will squirm and wriggle furiously to avoid shouldering the blame for their mistakes.

Many women fall for this type of guy because they find their hundreds of little idiosyncrasies fascinating and cute and, to put it bluntly, on some level they feel sorry for them and want to mother them.

 

 

Further down the line though, when it’s crunch time, Bitches will let you down and blame you for their own shortcomings. They are chronically incapable of handling real responsibility or exercising selflessness in any form.

Be careful of making a Bitch your life partner girls. They might seem fun, adorable and interesting at first, but sooner or later you’ll end up screaming the words, ‘Just fucking grow up!’ or, ‘Be a fucking man for once!’ frequently when huge arguments erupt.

Eventually you’ll grow tired of their endless shit and will probably end up moving right along to the next category of guys.

 

MALES

Males are the most common group of guys you’re likely to come across and can be sub-divided into the categories of ‘Mr Nice Guy’, ie. the first guy to get fucked, but the last guy to get laid (that quote courtesy of The MAEN!) and Mr Asshole ie. the guy that gets laid all the time.

Mr Nice guy gets on with life and is a damn side more reliable and consistent than a Bitch would be. In social situations, they move in groups of two or three and are typically seen huddling in the corner or the nightclub, casting surreptitious glances at the gorgeous women in the room and wishing they had the balls to just go up and talk to them.

 

 

The problem with Mr Nice Guy is that he has lost his ability to be assertive and is prone to bouts of low self esteem that manifest in him doing nothing at all.

If Mr Nice Guy is out with his girlfriend and another guy starts hitting on her, Mr Nice Guy will stand aside politely and let the other guy muscle his way in there because another trait of Mr Nice Guy is that he will do almost anything to avoid confrontation.

Like I said though, they’re ok guys, and in many cases actually end up with seriously gorgeous women when they approach their mid thirties because by then a lot of women are ready to settle down with Mr Nice Guy because he’s predictable, easy to control and has usually amassed a small fortune by then by keeping his head down and working like a dog.

Mr Asshole on the other hand get’s more ass than a porta-loo at a rock festival, but this solely to do with the fact that he acts like a complete jerk when it comes to women, because he’s figured out that ironically, the less it appears like you want a woman, the more she will want you in turn.

These Males are your typical beer-swilling jocks that also congregate in groups of three or more and thrill in the fact that they actually know very little about women because for their purposes, they don’t need to.

 

 

The problem with these guys is that, while they might be able to get a lot of tail, they can never keep it because they are basically severely underdeveloped emotionally and have a proclivity to cheat on their girlfriends at the drop of a hat.

Males do a lot of damage to women’s perception of men because they lead women to believe that there are only two types of men on this planet – Mr Nice Guy, who is stable, considerate, quiet and unassuming, but ultimately boring and Mr Asshole, who is wild, rough, unpredictable, but ultimately inconsiderate and careless with their lovers, girlfriends and wives.

Which leads me to the final and sadly the rarest type of guy out there.

 

MEN

There is a type of guy out there who lives his life according to the ideals of honesty, courage and integrity in all situations, who treats all the people he comes across in his life with equal respect and understanding and who has the confidence to be assertive without being arrogant, the intelligence to know when to pick his fights and how hard to fight them and the balls to shoulder the responsibility of his fuck ups and admit when he is wrong.

Being a Man is a lifelong ambition, it’s something guys have to work towards constantly and it’s something that only at the end of his life will a guy ever know if he’s achieved, and it’s for those reasons that real Men are difficult to find.

Men carry themselves with a natural confidence that is not forced or contrived, but rather lies calmly beneath the surface and is so palpable that other people can actually feel it the second a Man walks into the room.

A Man makes it his life’s mission to understand himself and is not afraid to explore every facet of his personality no matter how dark or difficult those roads may be.

 

 

Real Men are fascinated by and in awe of women. They recognise the power these beings have over us and are not threatened in any way by that, or afraid to give their hearts to women, no matter how vulnerable that might make them feel.

Men live their lives with a conviction that seldom wavers and a core set of values and ideals for which they are prepared to fight and, in some cases, die in order to uphold.

At the same time though, a true Man also possesses a great sense of humour and an ability to keep smiling though the going might be tough and keep laughing though his heart might be breaking to pieces inside.

Men have the capacity to put other people first and seek to help rather than criticise people weaker than themselves. They are great listeners because they understand that in each person they meet they encounter pieces of themselves and as such are able to understand and tolerate a lot of people that the rest of society deems strange, different or difficult.

Men seldom lose their cool, but when they do, it’s because you have harmed someone close to them, in which case you better run as hard and fast as you can because they will not hesitate to track you down and tear you a new one.

Men respect themselves and their bodies, take pride in their appearance and usually exercise frequently because they enjoy pushing their bodies and minds as far as they can go and breaking through the boundaries that previously defined them.

A large part of a Man’s life is also dedicated to the control and subsequent eradication of fear, because they realise the simple fact that until they do this, they will never be able achieve greatness.

There are guys like this out there, but it is not always apparent at face value which guys have decided to walk the road of Manhood and which are just floundering around with no purpose, drive or vision.

Also, real Men prove themselves through their actions and not their words and this is the single most important thing I would encourage women to do – listen to the things he says and watch the things he does and if the two don’t add up, proceed with caution because there’s a good chance he’s full of shit.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

I hope this has helped in some way. I might be completely off the mark here, and if you have any thoughts on the topic, please feel free to fire away, that’s what the comments section is for 🙂

-ST

11
Jan
10

I have all the answers

By SlickTiger 2 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts and Satire, Irony And Vitriol
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Guys, I have some really great news that I’d like to share with you that I think is going to really brighten up this dreary Monday, are you ready for it? Awesome, here it comes.

I have all the answers. It happened to me completely by chance, much like being bitten by a radioactive spider or getting bombarded with gamma rays. There I was, sitting at the traffic light outside our complex, waiting for it to turn green when suddenly, out of nowhere, this heavenly light started shining down on me.

 

 

I turned toward the light, and standing right there was this guy handing out pamphlets. Now usually I wouldn’t accept pamphlets handed out at the traffic light by complete strangers, but like I said, there was something about this guy, some kind of invisible force that was radiating from his core that said to me, plain as day, ‘Taaaakkkkeeeee a pamphlet, taaaaaakkkkkeeeee oooooonnnnneeeeeee…’

So I took one. And now, I have all the answers.

If you don’t mind, I’d like to quote the opening paragraph of the pamphlet ad lib, because of its awesomeness:

Prof. Mosh, Hailed As The Herbalist Of The Year In 2005 And 2006 Consecutively. He is an Astrologers, Herbalist, Healer And Researcher. He is the Proud Winner Of The Eastern Africa Herbalist Control Council Award For Life-time Achievement In Astrology And Herbal Healing. He is the current leader of the grand ancestral shrine which has been in existence since 1820 as a source of the most powerful unseen forces. he has solved many mysterious issues by using the invisible powers. He’s regards by many as one of the greatest healer on the planet today.

I couldn’t believe my luck! ‘The greatest healer on the planet today’ practising right here, In Joburg! No. Fucking. Way.

But wait, it gets better. After that comes a list of no less than 19 different superpowers that this guy possesses. Nineteen! Not even Peter Petrelli has that many superpowers, what a legend!

 

 

Here are some of the ones that really stood out for me:

1. Read and tell all your problems before you even mention them to him
5. Remove the black spot in your hand that keeps taking your money away
6. Find out why you are not progressing in life and solution
9. Ensure excellent school grades even for children with mental disabilities
10. Bring you to see your enemies and make demands on them using a mirror
14. Heal women problems of barrenness, disturbing menstruation, Abnormally long pregnancies, etc.

How the hell is that?! This guy can do anything guys. I mean, he is the current leader of the grand ancestral shrine, there’s nothing that can stop this dude.

Personally I was blown away by number 5 because I always wandered what the hell that black spot in my hand was all about and now I know, it’s been stealing my money! Naughty black spot!

What’s even better is the paragraph that follows his list of superpowers. I hope you’re sitting down for this.

Prophet Mosh is known to bless, capture, heal, pray and Show your past, future and right friends from just a mirror He has the power to sit on a crocodile & lion skin While floating on water & communicating with the dead

Just read that part again carefully. That’s a whole other level of multitasking. Fuck, I’d pay R200 to see that – sitting on both a crocodile and lion skin while floating on water and communicating with the dead! Ka-Pow! There goes my mind.

 

 

Why had I never heard of this guy before? I mean shit, a guy this powerful could have taken over the entire world by now, what a badass!

And all he needs is R200 for a consultation, ‘your surname, date of birth & 1 candle’. A modest fee if I ever heard one.

This is powerful stuff right here guys and so, for a limited time only, I am opening up this site to you, my faithful readers to please (for a negligible admin fee) post your troubles and hardship in the comments section and I will communicate with Prophet Mosh himself, who will in turn communicate with the dead, and bada bing, bada bang, using the invisible powers, we will solve your problems and ensure everlasting happiness and pleasures.

I’m here for you guys. Me and my new buddy, Prophet Mosh, who has offices in ‘North Gate, Coca Cola Doom, Randburg, Malibongwe Drive & Melville Montgomery Park’ (so yeah, add ‘master of cloning himself’ to his list of superpowers) are gonna make your life flippin’ sweet!

Don’t delay! Post your troubles and worries now and by tomorrow, they will all be gone. This is not some ‘Crossing Over With John Edwards’ bullshit that you see on TV, this is the real deal!

I have all the answers guys, and soon you will too.

Easy as pie 😉

-ST

08
Jan
10

The Body Corporate Where I Live Are A Bunch Of Fascist Pigs

By SlickTiger 10 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Fascism, my friends, did not come to an end with the defeat of the Axis Powers at the end of World War II, no. Like a cockroach after nuclear Armageddon, it has come crawling out of the gutters of history and  is alive and well and fucking thriving in the complex where I live.

I don’t remember when it all started because there’s a better than average chance that I was drunk at the time, but not long after moving into our complex in Craighall Park, we became aware of a menacing presence residing in the flat behind us in the form of the Chairlady of our Body Corporate, whose name shall remain anonymous (because fuck man, she scares me).

We’ll just call her Beelzebub, that means Satan.

 

 

In the two and a half years we’ve lived in our flat we’ve had various altercations with Beelzebub because like many people aged between 20 and 30, we like to party. We like to have friends over, we like listening to music, we like the occasional drinky-poo, is that a crime?

Apparently yes.

The best way I can explain everything that’s happened over the last two years in our flat would be by copy/pasting, this awesome summary of offences that Beelzebub sent our landlords near the end of last year:

 

Hi (name withheld),

I’m writing to you to request that you address the issue of noise disturbances with your current tenants.       I can’t recall exactly when you moved away from Braemore but at that time you let your unit to three, young men.      Shortly after they took occupation, I called on them & provided them with Braemore’s Conduct Rules which they acknowledged by signing my copy & I left another copy with them.      For the first few months, they were well behaved & didn’t create any disturbances.     However, their behaviour soon changed.    You will recall that I spoke to you about 18 months ago to complain about a party that they held in the flat, which was accompanied by music played at full volume & which continued throughout the night & into the early morning.    On that occasion, I went to unit 32 at around 4.30 in the morning to speak to the occupants about the noise disturbance.       The crowd in the flat were inebriated & I raised my complaint with two of your tenants, whom I recognised from when I delivered the Conduct Rules to them.    Unfortunately, and possibly due to their state of inebriation, they were argumentative & unapologetic.   One of them (The Glaze!) almost shoved his finger in my face.     They continued to disturb the peace on numerous occasions thereafter with noisy parties & often there would be upwards of 20 people in the unit.    Unfortunately, I didn’t keep a record of the dates & times but going, forward, I intend to keep a record of every incident.

Two of your three tenants have vacated unit 32 in this year, one of them is (The Glaze!).       Again, I haven’t kept a record of when they moved out, but we’ve had relative peace & quiet for the last few months, until this week on Wednesday & again last evening.  

 
Wednesday, 14 October

At around 10.30pm I went to speak to your tenants about a noise disturbance.   The front & kitchen doors were wide open & the sounds of their yelling & music could be heard from my flat, which is in the block behind them.  I was not confrontational at all, I simply asked them to keep the noise levels down & suggested that they close their kitchen door, which they did.   I mentioned to them that it was a week night & some of the residents have to get up early in the morning to get their places of business & it’s not acceptable that they should have their sleep disturbed by the inconsiderate behaviour of other occupants.

Friday, 16 October

Just before 11pm last evening, I was again forced to go & speak to your tenants about a noise disturbance.    There were three guys in the lounge & one of them was playing the guitar & singing (shouting?) at the top of his voice (Guitar Jon!).     I think what fuels these noise disturbances, is their intake of alcohol – from the perspective of my personal observation, it seemed that they weren’t exactly sober.    To their credit, I must say that they apologised & were quiet after that.

I’m attaching another copy of the Braemore Conduct Rules & specifically draw your attention to Conduct Rules 17 and 18.      Each one of your current tenants must sign the Conduct Rules, acknowledging that they understand the rules & are prepared to abide by them.     I must also point out that the other occupants in that block – from units 31 to 36, all fall into the age group 20 to 30 & none of them cause disturbances.    Therefore, if your tenants raise their youth in defence of their behaviour (as I suspect they will), you may just point this out to them.     If your tenants are unwilling to abide by the Conduct Rules, which are in place to ensure that the rights of other occupants are observed & respected, then perhaps they should consider living somewhere else.      

Kind regards,

BEELZEBUB (HAIL SATAN!)

What a load!

I know people that are a million times worse tenants than we are. I knew these guys back at varsity that lived in a digs aptly named ‘Mordor’, who threw a ‘bring something to burn’ house party at the end of our third year there and ho-lee fuckballs, you should have seen the resulting chaos.

 

 

Because a lot of the kids I was at varsity with had more money than they knew what to do with and were too lazy to sell their furniture at the end of the year, I watched in total disbelief as the following items were tossed into the bonfire they started on their lawn:

2 x wooden bedframes
1 x old queen sized mattress
2 x TVs
1 x CRT computer monitor
2 x vacuum cleaners
2 x single couches
1 x double couch
1 x wooden door (ripped off the hinges from a bedroom inside Mordor)
And my personal favourite:
1 x 2-man fibreglass canoe

The resulting ‘fire’ if it can be called that, was so unbelievably MASSIVE that it actually felt like a small sun had come blazing through the cosmos and crashed in the back lawn of Mordor. You could tell who was at the party the next day because their eyebrows and lashes were singed from the heat, I shit you not.

 

 

The fire melted the gutters off the roof, cracked every window down the one side of the house, and burst the piping coming out of the geyser.

Now THAT’S what I call disturbing the peace.

So anyway, I come home from work yesterday, and there’s a letter from the Body Corporate under our door expressing intense dismay because of the fact that some jerkwad keeps taking the creepy out the pool and leaving it disconnected in the sun.

Granted, that’s a pretty dumbass thing to do, but Beelzebub and her committee’s reaction is nothing short of completely retarded.

Did they send a letter to everyone asking them not to take the creepy out of the pool or further action will be taken? No, they didn’t do that. Instead they are now permanently locking the gate to the pool area and making everyone sign a register with the security guard at the front gate every time they want to take a dip in the pool.

Added to that, if you are caught tampering with the creepy in any way, they reserve the right to slap a R500 fine on your ass right there and then, no questions asked.

 

 

Those fascist fucks! THEM’S fightin’ words!

I can’t tell you how tempted I am to take drastic action in the face of this abhorrent abuse of our basic human rights to enjoy a dip in the pool on a hot summer’s day. What the fuck?! People have fought and died for the ideals of democracy and freedom, which are founded on the basic premise that we should have have some kind of influence, no matter how big or small, over the decisions that are made by the leaders of our country, our province and our body corporate.

So I need your help. Here is a list of all the actions I’ve thought of taking in the face of this blatant fascism, which one(s) should I do?

1. Fill the pool with cement. That’ll show those fuckers. I’ll sneak in at 3am with 10 bags of PPC and get pourin’, then NOBODY will EVER fuck with the creepy because well, they’ll need a jackhammer to get at it.

2. Kidnap the creepy and hold it for ransom. Another stroke of ironic genius. Also, I’ve always thought it would be rad to make one of those ransom notes out of cut out magazine letters whilst wearing rubber gloves in a dimly lit room. We’ll send the ransom note with a list of our demands and pics of the creepy lying naked and exposed in the midday sun. Evil, yes. Effective, you bet your ass.

3. Write a letter, copy it 40 times and slip under everyone’s door (except Beelzebub’s) giving detailed instructions, with illustrations, explaining how to safely climb OVER the 3ft gate that they’re planning on locking. To add insult to injury, the letter will also encourage everyone to swim naked. Let’s see them try and kick our asses out THEN.

4. Throw another party. You’re all invited.

The gauntlet has been thrown down people. I didn’t start this, THEY did, and unfortunately, they fucked with THE WRONG MEXICAN.

 

 

Hasta la victoria siempre!

-ST

07
Jan
10

Goodbye June

By SlickTiger 3 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , ,

I always knew she was coming over to visit because of the dogs she had, these tiny little scruffy things, I’m not sure what breed they were, but she had two and you’d hear their tiny nails scratching as they ran excitedly toward our house in the hope of finding our cat and terrorising it.

The doorbell would sound and June would be standing there with a big smile on her face, a cigarette in her hand and a glass of whisky in the other. She’d be smiling and she’d be in a good mood, always in a good mood, and we’d shoot the breeze and catch up on what I’d been up to while my mom busied herself in the kitchen, making supper and throwing in a random comment into the conversation here and there.

Sometimes she’d stay for supper and have one or two more drinks, she knew how to have a good time and was full of fun and mischief, and more than once, when my mom was trying to give up smoking, June would come over and the two of them would sneak a ciggie like two naughty schoolgirls.

I wrote a post about June last year, halfway through October, and sure, I understand you’re busy and probably just quickly stopped by because it’s become part of your daily routine while your email downloads or while the coffee percolates, but if you have a moment, please read this because it’s the last memory I have of her.

My mom called me in tears yesterday to tell me that June passed away on Tuesday night.

She might have been no one to you, even to me she was never anything more than a good friend of my mom’s and a woman who lived in the same complex, but she was a mother, a sister, an aunt and a damn good friend to a lot of people and I firmly believe that we are all connected to one another in ways we will never know or understand and that if you take a moment to spare a thought for the people that loved June, it will make a difference in their lives.

It was cancer that took her in the end, she underwent extensive chemotherapy to try and beat it, but it didn’t make a scrap of difference and as far as I know she made a decision to end the treatment late last year, because all it was doing was making her feel worse and worse.

I think about that and it scares the hell out of me. I can’t imagine what it must be like to reach that point, to accept the fact that you are never going to get better and that in a matter of months or possibly weeks you are going to close your eyes and never open them again.

These bodies of ours are never truly ours, are they? We loan them from the stars, feed and nourish and hopefully look after them as best we can while we can, but sooner or later we have to give them back.

I wrote this post because I wanted it to be known that June was a good person, one of the few I’ve met in this life, that she lived a good life and that she made this world a better place by being here.

I never got to finish the bottle of Red Breast whiskey with her, but as far as last memories of people go, that evening we spent laughing and enjoying a dram together is definitely one of my favourite.

I’m not a religious person, but I do believe that there is no ultimate end, you don’t just die and that’s it – there is more, much, much more, and just because your path has disappeared, it does not mean that it’s ended.

Wherever June’s path has taken her, I hope it’s perfect there. I hope there’s all the whiskey and cigarettes anyone could ever ask for and that she’s laughing like she always used to and making the people there as happy as she made all of us 🙂

 

 

-ST

05
Jan
10

The politics of pulling a sickie

By SlickTiger Leave a Comment
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

I woke up today opened the curtains and seriously considered drinking a shot of drain cleaner to avoid actually going to work. It’s still grey and rainy in Joburg and lemme tell you, nobody is impressed.

 

 

Can we have some sunshine please? Is that too much to ask? It’s supposed to be summer – you call this fucking summer? I want my money back. This is bullshit.

On days like today you wish you’d pulled a sickie, and not just any kind of sickie, I’m talking epic sickie here, I’m talking not getting out of bed until lunchtime sickie, but you didn’t do that did you?

No, you pussied out, and now here you are, reading my blog instead of working and wishing you’d had the stones to pick up the damn phone and, in your best ‘moments away from death’ voice tell your boss, ‘I can’t come to work today, I’m sick.’

‘Well, how sick are you?’ your boss would have asked.

‘Well, I just fucked my sister,’ you’d calmly reply. ‘How sick is that?’

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I saw the gap and just went for it. This blog in no way endorses sister fucking, we aren’t apes for chrissake.

 

 

It’s ok though, I fully understand why you didn’t take this course of action, it’s because we all adhere to a societal contract that binds us to doing all manner of shit we really don’t want to by using the most powerful motivator mankind has ever come up with.

Guilt.

That one small, single syllable word is the lube that greases the system and makes sure we don’t wander too far off the beaten path.

Think about it – the second a co-worker phones in sick, what’s the first thing that goes through your mind? Cause the first thing that goes through mine is ‘Sure, whatever. He’s not sick, the big faker, the big softie, he’s probably already on his third beer by now, screw him!’

 

 

And in that way, I keep the cycle alive. Aarrgghh! The irony!

So I say we change our mindsets when it comes to sickies. I say from now on, we applaud co-workers who are very obviously pulling a sickie and we start a culture of caring and understanding that extends so far that ‘not feeling like working’ will eventually be a legitimate excuse for not rocking up at work.

And what a wonderful world that would be 🙂

Aaaannnyyyyyway, I guess I’d better get some work done.

Take care now. Same time tomorrow? You bet your ass 😉

-ST

04
Jan
10

5 things that going back to work today is better than

By SlickTiger 1 Comment
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

If you live in South Africa, specifically Johannesburg, and today is your first day back at work after an amazing and relaxing holiday, please believe me when I say I feel your pain.

To add insult to injury it’s also grey and pissing down with rain here in Joeys. It’s one of those mornings when all you want to do is burrow deep under the blankets and tell the world to fuck right off.

And so I decided to spread a little cheer and write a humorous post on ‘10 things that going back to work today is better than’, but I couldn’t think of that many things. Five is fine – enjoy 🙂

Thing No. 1 – A Full Frontal Lobotomy

Sure, you may think your job is mind-numbing, but until you’ve had the neural connections severed to and from your prefrontal cortex, you have no idea what mind-numbing truly is.

Lobotomies were a popular way of dealing with loonies in the 1940s and 50s, because basically the procedure turned them from complete maniacs into mindless zombies and therefore made them much easier to control.

 

 

Problem was, the procedure was deemed too expensive and needed to be carried out by neurosurgeons, thus making it largely unfeasible in state mental hospitals, where it was needed most.

And so an entirely different kind of lobotomy was devised, whereby the patient’s upper eyelid was lifted and the point of a thin surgical instrument inserted against the top of the eyesocket.

A mallet was then used to drive the instrument through the thin layer of bone behind the eyeball and into the brain where it was swept from side to side, mashing the patients frontal lobe good and proper. This was then repeated in the other eyesocket.

So yeah, work might suck today, but man up! It’s better than having your brains smooshed around like lumpy mashed potatoes. Fact.

 

Thing No. 2 – Being One Of Frank Zappa’s Children

For the uninitiated, Frank Vincent Zappa was an American songwriter, producer and director who was really, really um, how do I put this? Fucking weird.

 

 

The poor dude was quite a sickly child and suffered frequently from asthma, earaches and sinus problems, which his doctor treated by prescribing radium pellets, and no, he didn’t swallow them, he was told to insert a pellet into each nostril and just kinda walk around like that.

Whether or not that lead to his boundless eccentricity remains unknown, but the guy recorded over 50 albums in his brief 52 years on this planet and had a killer sense of humour, which not only extended into his art, but also into the names he gave his four children: Moon Unit (his first daughter), Dweezil (his first son), Ahmet Emuukha Rodan (his second son) and Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen (which I presume was his second daughter)

So yeah, your day today might be sucking, but if your name was Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen, your entire life would suck.

Feeling better yet?

 

Thing No. 3 – Suffocating in 200 pounds of poop

It is a universal fact that bosses are largely full of shit, but they’re nowhere near as full of shit as, say, a constipated elephant.

This discovery proved to be the last that German zookeeper Friedrich Riesfeldt would ever make after he fed his constipated elephant friend Stephan 22 doses of animal laxative, followed by an entire bushel of high fibre berries, figs and prunes.

Amazingly, this didn’t have any effect on Stephan so Riesfeldt, concerned for the welfare of his elephant pal, then administered an olive oil enema and bada bing, bada bang! Result!

 

 

Stephan trumpeted loudly and released 200 pounds of clogged elephant poop like a cannon blast from his rear end, the sheer force of which knocked Riesfeldt to the floor where he was promptly buried alive in the grateful animal’s turd.

Game over. Bleew, bleew, bleeeewwww.

So the next time your boss shits on you, just be glad he’s not an elephant with the business end of his poop chute aimed squarely in your face.

 

Thing No. 4 – Waking up from a kickass drinking binge to find you’ve been buried alive

How crazy is this – back in the 1500s people used to drink ale and whiskey out of lead cups and the combination of the alcohol and the lead would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days, during which time their vital signs barely registered.

Typically these people would then be laid out on the kitchen table in their homes for a couple of days during which time the  family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a ‘wake’.

At around this time in England they started running out of space to bury people and so they would dig up coffins and reuse the graves, which lead to a startling discovery.

One in twenty-five coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside of them from people who were being buried alive. One in twenty-five!

 

How much does that suck? One minute you’re out gettin’ wizasted with your cronies and the next you wake up in a coffin, snug, warm and buried six feet under the earth’s surface.

All the scratching in the world ain’t gonna save you from that.

 

Thing No. 5 – You could be a barnyard masturbator

Yeah, apparently people like this actually exist. The basic job description is collecting animal semen from various farm animals to help them reproduce.

As a barnyard masturbator your tools of the trade include an electric probing device to stimulate God knows what, fake rubber vaginas and bucket loads of lube.

 

 

The plus side of a job this rad is the awesome cocktail-party conversations it would definitely lead to.

‘I’m the head of a successful private banking firm and just bought a 60-ft luxury yacht, anchored off the coast of Barbados, and you?’

‘I jerk animals off.’

‘Hm, you… what?’

‘Sure. I mean there I was, fresh out of highschool, not really knowing what to do with my life when I happened upon a lonely stray dog one day with his lipstick out and one thing kinda lead to another…’

 

*******************************************************************************

 

So there you have it! I hope I’ve made you feel better about your day. Now go do some work, that agitated bull ain’t gonna jerk itself off 😉

-ST

28
Dec
09

When you catch a Tiger by the tail, don’t fail…

By SlickTiger 5 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts and Satire, Irony And Vitriol
Tags: , , , , ,

There’s no way I would usually do this, but I’m bored and I feel like pulling the legs off insects for awhile.

 

 

So I wake up to this shitty, grey, cold ‘summer’ day, shuffle into the lounge, boil up some coffee, the landlord calls and says he’s coming over to do something or other in the bathroom, fine with me, I have no plans.

Then I open up my gmail and find that another douche has commented on my Killers Review (posted here and on the Moral Fibre site) and broken the previous douche’s record for ‘latest comment after nobody gives a fuck’ by, wait for it, 15 days!

In total this guy clocked in at 20 days after Vince posted my review, I think that deserves some kind of award in itself, but wait, it gets way, waaaayyy better.

This is the comment he posted:

Author: yousuf
Comment:
MAYBE you’re stupid or maybe you’re just a paper Victim.
at any rate.
i can’t sit here and not reply to your travesty of justice which you call a review so here’s my opinion on your opinion.
ok before anything else let me just like agree with you on one thing: south african radio stations are shite. they stick to Human and like a couple of other tracks. Lol alright anyway

it’s quite the generalisation to say that s.a. audiences suck. you’re alas mistaken in that regard. i was standing about 5 metres from dave keuning and the collection of people around me, ranging from some random oldish people to like 12 year old girls, Everrrrybody was rocking out and knew most of the songs. perhaps you were just amongst the ones who didnt know much about the killers but then again, you know what they say about birds of a feather. 🙂

it may be, as you so cutely declare, "a fucking rock concert" but that doesn’t mean you can just push people around to  get to a better spot. if you actually perhaps maybeeee just gave a damn about the killers you would have arrived earlier to get a good spot?

then you say that they played "two totally obscure" tracks. slicktiger. "BLING" is not obscure but then again you don’t know much about the killers it appears, unless im mistaken, of course. but that doesn’t happen often. the second of the supposedly obscure tracks was Shadowplay  – alright i guess this is somewhat off since it’s just a cover by the killers but anyway it’s a decent song, though far from the top of my list.

and actually they did leave out a few important tracks.. i.e. the rest of the murder trilogy and also glam indie rock n roll would’ve been good

THEY DID NOT BUTCHER ‘SMILE LIKE YOU MEAN IT’. the version they did was bloody brilliant with ray on violin..like better than the original. gosh.

and then just when i was hoping you were going to spare yourself the embarrassment of continuing, you went to that place. by ‘that place’, i mean. saying. that. brandon. makes. the killers. UR SO STUPID HONESTLY. HAVE YOU NOT HEARD OF "BLUSH RESPONSE"? let me enlighten you. it’s the band monsieur flowers was in pre- The Killers. and so judgin by what you said, one would think "blush response" sounds the same as "the killers". but guesssssssss  what sunshineeeee.. it doesntttttttt… hence. ur wrong. Lol

lol just an aside: "you  heard it hear first"..? haha dude the rumour of brandon’s solo career has been goin around for at least a year. so like. dont steal somebody else’s opinion n try to pass it off as ur own Lol

dude lol if s.a. audiences are so shite, why was it that brandon had to raise his voice to be heard over the shouting fans? and like. why did he refer to the audience as having "such beautiful voices". do you know what i think? i think your head was too far up your arse to notice much. that’s what i think.

oh oh. to end this, let me quote the song you say means a lot to you:
"Save some face.. you know you’ve only got one.."

GOODNIGHT. TRAVEL WELL.
:]

What a gem! I was so fucking excited getting this fucking comment I can’t tell you. All I could think reading it was fuck yeah! Them’s fightin’ words.

Let me start by saying yousuf, welcome to the site, hope you like it here, make yourself at home.

Oh, don’t mind the dog, he does that to everyone. BOGART! Down boy! Hahaha, he likes you. Just let him do his thing. Hahaha, good boy Bogart. You want a towel or something?

Anyway, I just wanted to sit down with you, and straighten things out cause I think you’re a swell guy and I think we should be pals.

But first let it just be said that despite whatever rumours you might have heard, I did not finger-bang your mom, or your sister that one time during a shift break they had behind the McDonalds in Alberton.

Those were lies, but I fully understand why you would react so dramatically to my review given that kind of history. I would have done exactly the same thing, maybe not in the same flowery language, but hey, that’s just because you’re still learning to read and that’s cool too.

 

 

The point I’m making here yousuf is not to take things too seriously, it’s a sure-fire way to end up alone, trawling the internet for outdated content to shit on in an effort to make yourself feel better about your shitty life.

Attacking someone anonymously over the internet is the most cowardly form of social engagement that exists, besides Facebook-stalking people to try and get a date or resigning from your job over email.

I bow to you, yousuf, and your extensive knowledge of The Killers and look forward to reading your review of the gig, but I’m not holding my breath yousuf, because you and I both know you don’t have the stones to be any kind of writer.

So how about this – you stick to sitting on your ass, jacking off and playing World Of Warcraft and mind your own fucking business and I’ll stick to the job of writing whatever the fuck I want, whenever the fuck I want.

Don’t let the door hit ya where the dog jizzed down your pant leg.

-ST

17
Dec
09

My Top 5 Calvin & Hobbes Christmas Cartoons

By SlickTiger 6 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts
Tags: , , , , , ,

There really isn’t much going on today. The office is totally dead and to be honest it’s pretty damn depressing, so I’ve been doing what I always do when I get depressed, reading Calvin & Hobbes!

In my opinion Calvin & Hobbes is the best comic strip that was ever written. Bill Watterson did mankind a huge favour by drawing and writing these stories about a kid genius and his imaginary tiger friend.

And so I thought I’d share my Top 5 Calvin & Hobbes Christmas Cartoons with you guys cause I’m your imaginary tiger friend and it seemed fitting 😉

Once you’ve read these, you have to visit this site:

http://progressiveboink.com/archive/calvinhobbes.htm 

It’s the 25 best Calvin & Hobbes strips all collected and annotated, but it’s the annotations that really struck a chord in me. Take the following excerpt for example, it perfectly sums up why I love Calvin and have always identified 100% with him:

“If you think about it, Calvin was really quite an anomaly in popular entertainment — not just in comics, but in anything, be it movies, TV, etc. He has no friends, and no extracurricular activities; the only people he ever sees are his parents, who he has a strained relationship with, and Moe, Susie, Rosalyn, and Miss Wormwood, all of whom he detests and all of whom detest him. The only person he ever has any real interaction with exists only in his head. He is, for all intents and purposes, completely alone. And he’s fine with that. The kind of kid most people would entirely ignore all through school is not generally the kind you make the star of your show, and yet the strip became hugely successful.

I know that people of all ages enjoyed Calvin and Hobbes, but I have to think that it meant even more to those of us who grew up with him. Going to school every day and seeing all the ways we didn’t fit in, it was nice to see someone like us, who was intelligent and independent, and didn’t need to be a smile-plastered Mouseketeer to enjoy life. Though numerous motivational posters and guidance councelors and after-school specials had said it again and again, it was Calvin who managed to truly express the idea—without being preachy, without being sappy, perhaps even without trying—that it was okay to be different.”

Enough preamble! Here are my five favourite Calvin & Hobbes Christmas cartoons, enjoy 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my all-time favourite Calvin & Hobbes Christmas cartoon:

 

 

-ST

11
Dec
09

Top Billing is desensitising my gag reflex

By SlickTiger 17 Comments
Categories: Killer Posts and Satire, Irony And Vitriol
Tags: , , , , , ,

Every Thursday night for some reason Jenni-Fuh, J-Rab and I end up watching this lifestyle TV show on SABC 3 called Top Billing.

 

 

My South African readers all know this show, it’s been on TV for at least the last ten years, but for my international readers from so far afield as Helsinki, Katmandu and Brakpan (where they haven’t invented TV yet), lemme give you the low down.

Top Billing is a platform from which the rich upper classes of South Africa can stand and tell all the poor people in this country (who can’t afford satellite TV and are therefore forced to watch the show) how amazing their rich and famous lives are.

They feature everyone from South African musicians, to actors, to sports stars and visit places like wine estates and five star luxury game lodges. Then they attend weddings (I shit you not) that always look like they’re being hosted in the some kind of fairytale castle out of a Disney cartoon and interview ‘interesting’ art deco people who are making avante garde ‘creations’ out of weird shit like bees wax and processed angora goat hair.

 

 

It’s nauseating, and it’s not because everyone and everything that is featured on the show is literally saturated with money, it’s because everyone on that goddamn show is so fake.

I have a very highly developed bullshit detector (mostly to my own detriment) and I swear, the minute I hear the smarmy theme music for that fucking show the ol’ BS-detector starts going off like an air raid siren in my head.

Celebrities of South Africa and other successful people that end up on Top Billing, I hope you hear me loud and clear when I say this: Nobody thinks you’re cool except for nobodies. Stop being a buncha total douchebags and show us something real.

And then there’s Jeannie D, who I’m sure is a wonderful person in real life, but who makes me actually swear loudly and throw stuff at the TV nearly every time I see her.

 

 

She gushes happiness the way clogged up sewers gush floaters. It offends me. Why does she have to smile ALL THE TIME and talk like she’s on the verge of bursting into a peal of girlish laughter at any and EVERY given moment? Is that in her contract or something?

‘Ok, the Top Billing gig is yours.’

‘Yippee!’

‘But you have to constantly speak and act like you’ve taken 600mg of Lexapro every time we turn the cameras on you.’

‘That shouldn’t be a problem, I just have! Hahahahahahahah!’

And don’t even get me started on the godawful wankfest that is Top Travel. That’s basically an hour of Jeannie D and her co-presenter Janez Vermeiren swanning around the world and palling around playfully with one another while everyone out there in Sofa Land thinks exactly the same thing.

Yep, they’re totally fucking.

I used to dig Janez – he made his name as the DIY dude on Top Billing and he was badass. He could build anything and basically looks like he’s carved out of a slab of marble. That was the peak of his career, ladies loved him, men wanted to be his buddy so he could come around and build that outside braai area they’d always wanted, life for Janez was sweet.

 

 

Then Top Travel hit and every week we were forced to watch him try and match Jeannie D’s bubbly, faux optimism and the result was that I, for one, lost my broner for him completely.

Get out while you still can Janez. Come to the light. Start up ‘Top Cage Fighting’ where you go to dirty bars in the South and kick the living shit out of people.

THAT’S good television right there.

Lastly, before I go, I want it to be known that unlike my usual vitriolic posts where I just bitch and moan about stuff and don’t actually do anything to make it better, this time around I got me a game-plan.

At this stage I can’t say much except watch this space. Over the next few months I plan to start up on OWN lifestyle show with a little help from a buddy of mine I like to call THE MAEN.

It will be super low-budget and will basically make you piss yourself laughing with EVERY EPISODE, because the people of this world take themselves too damn seriously and it’s time we exploited that for the good of mankind and the betterment of humans as a species.

And yes, ladies and gentlemen, them’s fightin’ words 😉

Have a killer weekend, take 5 tabs of acid, find God.

-ST

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