Archive for the 'Killer Posts' Category



26
Jul
11

The Amy Winehouse Post

Amy Winehouse  Nice Photos  3Throughout most of her life, I wished Amy Winehouse would just hurry up and die already. For nearly three years she dominated local and international tabloids, every image of her somehow looking worse than the last.

It was like one of those wildlife documentaries where the film makers follow some poor, sick animal that’s dying in the wild and instead of helping it, they just film it getting weaker and weaker until it croaks.

It was clear to me that there was absolutely no hope for her. Her life degenerated to the point where all she seemed capable of doing was getting totally wasted and babbling incoherently like a bergie on a tik binge.

Was I surprised that she died on the weekend? Not in the slightest. I don’t think anyone was, in fact I think people were a lot more focussed on the tragedy that happened in Norway and rightly so.

But her death did make me stop and think about her for a minute, which was all it took to make me realise that I have no idea who Amy Winehouse was.

I honestly can’t remember ever seeing any proper interviews with her or ever hearing her speak when she wasn’t clearly off her face so I did a little digging online and found some early interviews with her and a couple of pictures of her before she got stuck into the drugs and the person I found couldn’t have been more different from the monster the media portrayed her to be.

 

 

Amy Winehouse had a wicked sense of humour and she was as feisty as they come. She had a gorgeous voice and was a truly talented performer and songwriter and back before she got strung out on crack she was a seriously beautiful woman.

I also realised that we’re the same age, give or take about a month, which kinda brought her death and life into focus for me because what the hell have I achieved at 27? How many Brit Awards have I won? How many Grammys? How many MTV VMAs?

 

 

I’d like to remember her as the person I met today. Not the fiend she became. We take for granted how easy it is for celebrities to fall into drugs and how fucking difficult it is to get out of that dark, dark hole.

So RIP Amy, wherever you might be, and thank you for the music, may it live on for longer than your brief stop-over on this crazy, beautiful, fucked up world.

 

 

-ST

10
Jun
11

The Friday Metal Band Name Challenge – PART II

Due to the all round awesomeness of the last Friday Metal Band Name Challenge and the fact that @JustinMGrove is a total badass and found me MORE fucking ridiculous metal band names, I proudly present to you:

 

THE FRIDAY METAL BAND NAME

CHALLENGE – PART II

 

Alright, alright, calm down. Don’t lose your shit just because I boosted the font size and made it red, I need you to sit up and FOCUS here.

This is no fucking around! These are some of the evilest, darkest, never-been-laid-in-their-LIVES metal bands known to man and to illustrate this point they have not only chosen band names that are fucking retarded, but have chosen to write them in fonts that make your brain swell just reading them.

So let’s get to it shall we? May I present to you: Contestant Number 1

 

 

Alright, I think we can handle this one, we’re definitely looking at a “Bor” on the one side and a “agar” on the other, possibly a “Bork” actually, now that I look at it.

What’s happening in the middle is anyone’s guess though. Could be nothing, which makes “Borkagar”, could be an “n” which makes “Borknagar” or it’s an “h” which spells “Borkhagar”.

I’m going for “Borkhagar” on this because, as anyone who’s in a metal band will tell you, Vikings are totally badass, and the most badass of  those badasses was fucking HAGAR MAN! RRAARARARGRAHRGAHGRHGHG!

 

 

Onto Contestant No. 2, feast your eyeballs on THIS badboy:

 

 

Huh, ok. Getting a little more tricky as we go along. I can totally see what these guys are going for though – there’s nothing that screams “we’re a METAL BAND!” more than blood, guts and gore.

Just look at GWAR (which someone once told me stands for “God What A Racket”), how badass were they!

 

 

Ahh, that was dumb. Now you can’t see the word unless you scroll up. FAIL.

Anyway, too late now. Scrolling up I think I can make out a “B” and an “A”, possibly two “Z”s another “A” and an “N”?

“Bazzan” would be my best guess on this one, you guys?

And lastly, let’s jump right into our final contestant for the day. Check this bad mother out:

 

 

Is anyone else out there totally BLOWN AWAY by how much fucking time these guys must have on their hands? A font like that doesn’t just come around every day. You cant just open up Word, select “Font Of Satan” and bang there it is, hells no!

You need to sit for hour after painstaking hour to come up with a font like that, tinkering away tirelessly, reading and re-reading it to make SURE no one can fucking read it.

Great job guys, you’ve really smashed it out the fucking park this time around.

It’s like playing “Where’s Wally” with letters. I can see an “L”, a “B” (?) and definitely an “E” near the top, pretty sure there’s a sneaky “of” in the middle there (axe-head for the top of the “F”, genius) and on the bottom I can see a “U”, an “N”, an “A”, an “L” a “U” and an “E”?

Oh wait, is that a “B” at the top there? Pretty sure that’s a “B”…

So what does that make, “Lube of Unalue”?

Hahahahahah! That’s the BEST band name I’ve ever heard in my life.

And with that I’m opening this one up to the floor. Civilian, you were great at this last time, care to step in and translate for us?

Have a killer weekend guys and take care of your bad selves Winking smile

-ST

01
Jun
11

The Ivo Vegter Solution to Our Country’s drug problem

I was fresh out of varsity when I met Ivo Vegter in the infamous courtyard that was at the centre of ITWeb’s old offices in Rivonia and though I was at least 5 or 6 beers in, I remember it well.

Ivo was engaged in a passionate debate with someone (I forget who, but you can bet your ass they were probably losing) about how environmentalists are full of shit and I was listening with rapt attention.

See, Ivo is a fascinating person. He has an intellect that is so staggering that is it a truly epic experience listening to the man argue a point. Plus he has a powerful command of the English language and a vocabulary that is so brobdingnagian he is probably one of the few people who knows what that word even means.

 

 

Ivo currently writes for ITWeb, Brainstorm, Car Magazine and one of my favourite sources of news, The Daily Maverick which, in my opinion, is one of the few bastions of legitimate, quality journalism South Africa has left.

Ivo fearlessly bangs out a column for The Daily Maverick every Tuesday that covers such a broad variety of topics it’s hard to believe the pieces that get published all come from the same person.

I take great pleasure in reading Ivo’s work not only because he’s great at taking the most controversial and often least popular standpoints on sensitive subjects, but his writing is so damn well researched, backed up with legitimate facts and figures and unapologetically honest that it often leaves me grinning from ear to ear because holy shit, the man can argue a point.

 

 

His most recent column really caught my attention though because it deals with the controversial topic of the merits of legalising drugs and not just the softer variety, but EVERYTHING.

It’s an extreme viewpoint and one that, at the time of writing this, has already inspired a number of comments on his piece, many in favour of the legalisation of drugs.

On the surface, Ivo has a solid argument, but it fails to address some very important issues which is why, for once, I’m not sure I entirely agree with him.

Ivo argues that “the criminalisation of drugs is often the cause of drug-related crime, rather than it’s solution” and suggests that instead of threatening people with violence and prison for being involved in any way in the manufacturing, distribution or consumption of “illegal substances”, drugs should be fully legalised and more effort should rather be spent on educating people about the dangers of drugs to discourage first time use.

His argument is also based on the premise that if someone wants to do drugs, they will find a way to fulfil that need no matter how hard law enforcement tries to stop them. Prisons, as one of his commenters points out, are rife with drugs and ironically a lot of prisoners come out of prison more addicted to drugs than they were when they went in.

 

 

So fine, in theory his argument is sound – legalise drugs so that they can be better regulated, remove the social stigma associated with taking them and educate people as much as possible so that they know and understand the inherent risks involved in taking drugs.

If people do decide to go off the deep end, invest time and effort in rehabilitating them properly instead of casting them out of society and writing them off as junkies.

There’s one thing his argument fails to address though, and that’s teenage kids.

Presumably if you made drugs legal, you’d have to impose some kind of age restriction on them or you’d run the risk of having curious seven year olds getting loaded on blow. So let’s say, for argument’s sake, that drugs were illegal for kids under the age of 18, like alcohol is.

Ivo’s argument is that you’ll get the kids who are naturally curious or naughty and want to experiment and those who don’t, whether drugs are legal or not, and I agree.

 

 

BUT, if drugs are legal, it makes it that much easier for kids to experiment with substances that can instantly fuck them up for life than it would be otherwise.

I was curious as a kid, I wanted to experiment with stuff I wasn’t supposed to be experimenting with, so at 12 years old, me and a friend I got shit-faced on his dad’s supply of Two Dogs Alcoholic Lemonade whilst on holiday one night after the folks had gone to bed.

Had we been educated about the dangers of alcohol? Yes. Did we know what we were doing was dangerous to our health and could lead to addiction? Yes. Did we give a rat’s ass about any of that? Hell no.

Of course the next morning we woke up feeling like ass, our parents shat us out from a dizzy height and, our curiosity satisfied, we carried on with our teenage lives and are now gainfully employed, contributing members of society.

Let’s, for argument’s sake, replace the godawful sludge we drank that night with 2 grams of pure, uncut cocaine and think for a second about how that scenario might have played out.

Our risk of getting instantly hooked would have been a thousand times higher, our little binge would have most likely have cause lasting damage to our brains and I can almost guarantee you that from that moment on, we would have both spent the rest of our lives chasing that first immaculate high no matter what the cost.

 

 

Sure, maybe we are an example of those kids, the ones who would have experimented no matter what, but the frightening thing is that nearly everyone I know experimented with alcohol before the age of 16 in some form or other because it is so readily available, who’s to say they wouldn’t do the same with class A drugs?

The sad fact is that everyone I’ve ever met who experimented with class A drugs under the age of 16 end up developing such a hopeless addiction that by their mid-twenties all they live to do is get high and by their thirties, they are completely burned out and unable to function in any way that could vaguely be described as ‘normal’.

All the education in the world can’t stop teenage rebelliousness. As it stands, thanks to the criminalisation of drugs (as backward as it might be) far fewer young teenagers are experimenting with them than there would be if they were made 100% legal.

There’s definitely a middle ground that Ivo touches on in his argument when it comes to the policing and education behind drugs and drug use but to legalise them all outright would be to open up a can of worms that would eat through the fabric of society faster than an addict could vacuum an eight-ball.

-ST

30
May
11

The Tiger’s Top 5 Music Cardinal Sins

Let me kick this one off by admitting that yes, I’m a music snob. I’ve been one since I was about 11 or 12 years old and the older I get the worse it becomes. I am fully aware and comfortable with that fact, it’s never going to change because I’m never going to try and change it and here’s why.

I judge people openly when it comes to music because it’s such a powerful force in my life that it’s like a fucking religion to me. Forget heaven or hell or Jesus or Krishna or Brahman or Satan or God or Santa and the Tooth Fairy. They may or may not exist and I couldn’t really care one way or the other because in music I’ve found a higher power that accepts me for who I am whether I’m wretched and seeped in sin or rolling holy and righteous without a goddamn care in the world.

 

 

To say it puzzles me when I meet people that are completely indifferent to music would be a gigantic understatement. I’ll never say it openly because I learned back when I was a kid that no one likes having someone else’s opinion rammed up their butt, but when I meet people that say or do one of the following things my estimation of them immediately plummets to the same level I reserve for people who’s biological parents are blood relatives.

 

THING NO.1 – We’ve just met, I ask you what music you’re into and you shrug and reply, “Oh, I dunno, anything really…”

It baffles me how many people say this, especially girls. There are a number of reasons people say this about music, namely:

  • They don’t want to say something you might think sounds stupid so they’re going to sit on the fence on this one and hope for the best. Get off the fence. Admit to your love of Norwegian Folk Metal, fly that flag brother! I’d rather hear ANYTHING than the sentence in bold underlining above.
  • They’re drawing a total blank. This happens, just breathe and try to calm down a little, I’m not going to bite your head off if you say you’re into someone I think is shit. You can listen to whatever the hell you want… except Nickleback.
  • They honestly don’t give a rat’s ass what’s playing. They will listen to commercial radio stations like 5FM every day of their lives from the minute they wake up until the minute they arrive back home after work and not even notice when the same song gets repeated 6 times in as many hours. I mean fuck’s sake! I don’t even listen to the songs I like six times a day because by day two I’d be bored to tears of it. These people cannot be saved. Their favourite movie of all time is Mr Bones. Just… give up.

 

THING NO.2 – People who describe music that is even slightly down-tempo or sad as “slit-your-wrists music”

I can’t tell you how much this infuriates me. People who expect music to have the same effect as Prozac are, nine times out of ten, terminally boring human beings.

A perfect example of this actually happened to me recently when I was copying some music over to a friend’s laptop who is totally clueless about music (some gems while I was copying the stuff over were “Foo Fighters? What do they sing?” and “Oh Green Day, I like them! Can you give me the first album, the one with American Idiot on it…”).

Her friend, the music expert, was sitting with us, advising her what to copy and what not to copy when we came across Ben Harper.

“Ben Harper?” she said, “Who’s he?”

“He’s a bit like Jack Johnson,” I replied, “they actually tour together quite a lot.”

“Yeah, but it’s real ‘slit-your-wrists music’”, the expert chirped in.

“It is, but unfortunately all my ‘High School Musical’ stuff is on my other drive, sorry,” I replied in my head.

 

 

Walk away son, walk away.

THING NO.3 – People who pull you aside to play you a song that sounds like utter crap and then ask you what you think about it

Bonus points if they give you their greasy earplugs to put in your ear and double bonus points if they know what you’re into and are deliberately playing you something they know you’ll hate in some misguided effort to try and reprogram your musical taste.

For these people, music is an argument that they must win at all costs. If you do not like the music they do, they will make you like it or they will die trying.

Despite what you might think, while I am a music snob, I am not one of these people. You listen to whatever the hell you want to listen to, I’m totally fine with that. Just don’t make me listen to it, respect the fact that our tastes are different and let’s both just carry on with our lives shall we?

THING NO.4 – People who only buy “Best Of” or compilation albums

Why the fucking fuck would you ever want to buy a compilation album, ever? So you can hear the same old songs that artist has had playing on the radio for the last God-knows-how-many years all over again?

Here’s a crazy question: What if you actually stepped WAY out on a limb and bought the album that one or two of those songs appeared on? And here’s another wild thought: What if you found that your favourite track wasn’t actually one of the ones that gets played on the radio all the time?

Why, that song would become “your” song in a way that the one that everyone knows and loves never could. It would have a special meaning to you and who knows? Maybe one day you’ll meet someone else who also fucking loves that song and you’ll instantly share a connection that is actually meaningful.

You know what my favourite Beatles song is? I’ll give you a clue, it’s not “Hey Jude”, it’s not “Yellow Submarine” and it’s sure as shit not “Yesterday”.

It’s “Rocky Raccoon” because it’s a story about a guy who’s lady runs off with a total jerk so he goes to kill the guy and ends up getting shot by the dude instead. Then this drunk doctor fixes him up and he just kinda carries on with his life.

 

 

Poetry I tells ya! Winking smile

THING NO.5 – Playlist Trolls

They lurk in corners at parties and wait until no one’s looking so they can hijack the playlist and make it their bitch.

They won’t relinquish power, take requests or play anything that has any merit whatsoever.

Expect Vanilla Ice. Expect Abba. Expect “Bohemian Rhapsody” at full volume. Expect Mr fucking Jones. Expect Rod Stewart. And just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, expect “Barbie Girl” or fucking Whigfield being blasted at you until your skull implodes.

What’s worse is they’ll play the same kak song three times, occasionally back-to-back just so you can get an intimate insight into what their hellishly mediocre lives must be like.

If you’re a person who is guilty of any of the sins listed above, there is good news. I’m offering free lobotomies all week to help you overcome these terrible afflictions, just hit me on tellthetiger@gmail.com and Uncle Slick will make everything better or your money back! Winking smile

-ST

25
May
11

Awesome Stray Cat Recipe

So yeah.

As you may have read in my posts here and here, J-Rab and I are struggling a bit at the moment to make ends meet.

It’s sad really, when I consider how much I fucking hate poor people, that I ironically seem to have become one.

There was a time when I couldn’t decide whether to blow my extra cash on extravagant trips overseas to exotic locales or invest it in prime beach-front real estate, it was a tough call and really used to stress me out.

 

 

Well, I’m glad to say that those stressful days are over. Now I scrape every cent I have together to just try make rent every month and beg the rest from kind people at the intersection of Roeland and Buitenkant.

However, you’ll be pleased to know that there is light at the end of the tunnel now that I have discovered one of the best kept secrets in affordable cuisine – stray cats!

The idea came to me when I stumbled on the vacant lot behind the Waterfront R10 parking one evening, right as the animal rescue people arrived to feed the literally thousands of stray cats that live there.

 

 

Naturally I begged to be fed some of the delicious cat food as well, not because I’m turning into a fokken prawn, but rather because it sure as hell beats eating YOUR week-old garbage.

The animal shelter people turned their noses up in disgust when I approached them and refused to make eye contact when I humbly asked for some delicious, crunchy dry cat food to get me through the night.

It was a new low for me and for a moment I hated those lucky stray cats, but the moment soon passed because like me, they were loveable in a mangy sort of way and they smelled delicious!

I lured one of them back to my flat with a brick and a plastic bag I fished out of a dumpster and got to work preparing this awesome, cost-effective meal:

 

Stray cat and lentil soup

 

 

Ingredients:

1 x Stray cat (tabbies work best, but failing that a nice ginger cat will do. For God’s sake DON’T go for a Siamese, they have a very low meat:bone ratio)
1 x Chicken stock cube
1 x Bag of red lentils
50g shredded ginger
1 x lemon (squeezed)
1 x bottle of Old Brown’s Sherry

Method:

Dice cat-meat into small cubes and soak in half a bottle of Old Brown’s Sherry to disinfect and flavour it while you drink the other half of the bottle to keep warm.

Boil up a pot of water, add the lentils and chicken stock cube and allow it to simmer for 40 mins. Add the cat meat right after along with the ginger and juice from the lemon and allow to simmer for as long as your relentless hunger will allow.

Ladle the soup into a tin bowl and slurp it down, making sure to dribble some into your matted beard for a snack later.

Et voila!

A word of warning though, I got first dibs on the cats behind the Waterfront. If I catch any of you greasy basterds down there helping yourselves to my stash, so help me God, I’ll jab a rusty screwdriver in you faster than you can shout “Help! A bergie’s trying to kill me!”

 

 

Ain’t life peachy.

-ST

20
May
11

The Friday Metal Band Name Challenge

It’s a well-known fact that if a man goes without sex for long enough, he starts seriously considering starting a metal band.

It’s either that or self-destruct in a testosterone-fuelled explosion that could level an entire city block.

Instead, for the good of mankind he starts wearing black T-shirts, black nail polish, gets a whole bunch of tattoos he’s definitely going to regret the day he starts getting regular sex and finds other men who can’t get laid to start a band that, ironically, plays music that limits their chances of getting laid even more.

 

 

I am of course generalising here, but to me there’s always been something about metal that stinks of frustration and desperation. I speak from experience here because between in my early teens I LOVED metal which, believe it or not, was also a time in my life when I would have literally given a toe to get laid.

Coincidence? I don’t fucking think so.

But, as any decent metal band will tell you, it’s not enough to just belt out insanely fast metal accompanied by guttural roaring while everyone in the band whips their long, dirty hair around in a slow spin cycle like some kind of washing machine from hell.

You also need a fucking evil name AND it must be written in the most retarded way possible so that it’s basically impossible to read.

I found some great examples of this on a flyer I randomly picked up at Mercury about a month back, so with no further ado, I present to you THE FRIDAY METAL BAND NAME CHALLENGE, GGGGWWWWWWAAAAAAAAARRARARARARARGHGHRGAHGHGH!

 

 

The first one’s piss easy. These guys really could have tried a little harder, let’s be honest. Despite the slightly confusing way the letters are mashed together, we can still clearly make out both the vowels and consonants and though the spacing between words is a total mess I think it’s pretty safe to say that this band is called “A Walk With The Wicked”.

Sorry guys, but more effort is needed with his one I’m afraid. All in all I give this band name a 4/10.

On to contestant number two!

 

 

Beautiful. Just have a look at that one again. Impressive work. See the way they’ve totally fucked all the letters up so that the band name makes “angry eyes”? This kind of name makes other metal bands quake in terror while the rest of us wonder what the fuck a “Suiderbeez” is.

That’s what I’m getting from this – Suiderbeez. Anyone else care to hazard a guess? Maybe Zuiderbeez?

“Zuiderzee” was a shallow bay of the North Sea in the northwest of the Netherlands, but I’m pretty sure the second angry eye is a malformed “b”, but yeah, I could be wrong…

Either way, these guys have done a bang up job. Their band name looks evil, angry and is damn near unreadable – I give this one a solid 8/10. Bang up job guys.

Now prepare yourselves for the motherfuckin’ UNHOLY MESS that is motherfuckin’ band name number three MOTHERFUCKERS!

 

 

I really hope you were sitting down for that, cause these guys smashed this one right out of the fucking park!

What is going on here? Seriously, can anyone please tell me what that fucking word says?! Every goddamn letter looks like an “H”. The best I got is “Heateast”? Or maybe “Fighthens”? Fuck, that must be it! “Fight Hens!” Makes perfect sense! Don’t take any shit from those egg-laying little bitches – FIGHT HENS!

Anyone else got any ideas? Cause I’m fresh out…

In a way I guess it’s quite smart marketing for the band because this way I might actually be persuaded to catch a live show just to find out what the hell they are called. What did the English language ever do to them that made them so angry they had to write their band name in the “Church Of Satan On Crack” font?

These guys get a 10/10. Actually fuck it, they get an 11/10 because fonts like that don’t just appear out of nowhere, it takes countless hours of praying to Satan to get that shit right.

And that brings us to the end of the Friday Metal Band Name Challenge. Feel free to submit more if you feel they can live up to the epic standard set by Fight Hens and have yourselves 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

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

06
Apr
11

SA Needs Edgier Bands

Every time I get into a debate about South African music I always feel like a total jerk because I don’t really follow the local scene that closely so I’m pretty goddamn ignorant, truth be told.

 

 

Still though, local bands don’t really blow my hair back and I say that with the utmost respect to the bands playing in SA because I know it’s fucking hard work and they constantly have to deal with all kinds of rejection, frustration and apathy from audiences who would rather be listening to Lady Gaga blasted over the speakers in some douche-ridden piss hole with a buncha assholes in collared shirts and slut-bags in tiny skirts with and too much self-tan.

But still, I feel it’s time we upped our game. We need edgier bands. Say what you will about Die Antwoord, but they have one thing in their favour that cannot be faulted – a lot of guts.

 

 

They went out there guns blazin’ and shook things up a little. They shocked people, they took people out of their comfort zones, they were rough, siff and ready and the world snatched them up in a heartbeat.

As a country, I think it’s fucking heartbreaking how much talent we have that goes to waste because we’re good enough to get so far, but no further.

It’s like there’s this invisible barrier of FAIL that our artists and musicians and writers hit and then they do one of two things, either go totally mainstream and sell out in every conceivable way in an effort to try and stay on top, or they just die outright.

 

 

Like I said, we need to push the boundaries more, we need to not be so goddamn afraid to do some crazy shit, although I’m a great one to speak.

There was a time when I played my guitar more than I didn’t, when music flowed through me like water through a rusty faucet and came out the other side dirty and beautiful and flecked with pieces of myself infused with something pure as glacial ice.

But that guy, he gave up before he got anywhere. He gigs in his bedroom sometimes. Back in ‘08 he played the Lounge Arena for an audience of one cat. What a fucking chump.

 

 

If anything I guess I’m writing this to tell all those crazy kids out there to stop fucking around and to get more crazy. Don’t do what Tiger-Don’t did and just fucking wimp out. Steel yourselves and get out there and fuck some shit up!

So here’s the dealy-o, I’ll play you crazy basterds a song that is rocking my fucking world right now and if anyone out there knows a band currently playing is SA that sounds in any way similar to this, fucking let it be known brothers and sisters!

Turn me onto that crazy shit and I’ll get behind those fuckers and do what I can in my own Tiger way to support a scene that really needs it.

Here’s The Kills with “Future Starts Slow” off their new album, which drops this week called Blood Pressures.

 

 

Can I get a fuck yeah?!

Fuck yeah.

-ST

01
Apr
11

Do NOT Fuck With The Melissa Riso Police!

If the definition of insanity is hitting your head repeatedly against a wall and expecting a different result every time then I must be one of the craziest fuckers I know, or the dumbest, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…

 

 

Loyal readers of this junkyard site might recall a post I put up last year that featured the gorgeous model and sometimes porn star Melissa Riso, you can read the original here.

Well, a couple months after I posted that, I got banned from posting on my own site by WordPress because they had been issued a nasty letter from the Melissa Riso Police (henceforth referred to as the MRP) accusing me of copyright infringement.

WordPress very kindly removed the image of her I had used and restored my rights to post on the site three days later, the fascist assholes.

So naturally, once my rights to post on my own goddamn site had been restored, the first thing I did was put up another picture of Melissa Riso as a kind of misguided ‘fuck you’ to the MPR.

 

 

Read all about that here.

In a career of posting things I probably shouldn’t, that single move really stands out as by far the most retarded thing I’ve ever done.

Why the fuck I did that, I have no idea, but holy shot I really wish I hadn’t.

Her lawyers didn’t bother going to WordPress this time around, they went directly to me.

I’m being sued for $65 000.

I don’t know whether to cry or laugh. The letter was emailed through this morning, so there’s always the chance that it’s some kind of very fucked up, twisted April fool’s joke (please dear god) but I forwarded it immediately to my uncle who’s a legal advisor and he says from what he can tell, it’s 100% legit.

My uncle says there’s a chance if we plead guilty to the charges they’re laying against me (basically copyright infringement, using her image without the express permission of her or her agency, engaging in “malicious slander” against her, etc.) they might reduce the amount they’re suing me for, but it would probably also mean taking this site down to placate the fucking fuckers.

I probably shouldn’t even be writing this, but at this stage who the fuck cares? What could they possibly do to me that’s worse than being sued for what works out to be R439,222.68?

 

 

Where the fuck am I even going to find that kind of money?! I mean seriously?! What a load of total fucking bullshit!

If anyone knows any shit hot entertainment lawyers that can help a nigga out, I could seriously use one right about now. This whole thing just seems really unnecessary and nasty. I know I can be an asshole at times, but c’mon! I’m being sued for nearly half a fucking million rand! Nobody deserves that!

Anyway. Have a great weekend. If anyone needs me I’ll be at the bar, putting a sizeable dent in a bottle of whatever whisky I can get my hands on.

The End.

-ST

 

 

 

…ps April Fools 😉