Posts Tagged ‘fucktarded

17
Jun
10

Tell The Tiger (Episode 8)

Um, yeah.

Unsurprisingly, after the abortion of a reply that was my last ‘Tell The Tiger’, the ol’ gmail address (tellthetiger@gmail.com) has been a little quiet.

Look, in my defence I wrote that last one after participating in a ‘Mass Streak’ right by the Green Point stadium with a bunch of total strangers, which I was understandably nervous about being a part of because a) it was fucking cold and b) the last time I streaked in public was, well, never.

 

 

So I might have been a little under the influence, christ, I’m only human.

Anyway, you’ll be pleased to know that this week I’m sober as a judge and ready to make one lucky reader’s life better in every single, imaginable way. This one’s a bit of a longie, but totally worth the read because it’s about DAGGA!

In 3…

2…

 

Hey ST,

After reading yourpost you wrote awhile ago about a ‘friend’ of yours who made his own mescaline and tripped out for 18 hours or something and just the general tone of your blog, I thought maybe you could help me with this problem I’ve having with my GF about the wacky baccy.

IVe been a huge fan of Mary Jane for aobut five or six years now, since I was in matric at highschool and up until recently, I’ve smoked everyday. I don’t think of it as a big deal really, other people come home and drink half a bottle of wine at night, but no one judges them. I just like smoking a joint after work, is that so bad? It helps me relax and destress after a long day. It’s not like I’m sneaking off in my lunch break and hitting bongs in my car or anything, I did that once and got so paranoid back in the office I had to fake a really bad headache and go home, not cool.

But anyway, my new girlfriend has never touched drugs of any shape, size or form in her entire life and all her friends are exactly the same. Personally, I didn’t think people like that actually existed anymore, but maybe that’s just me. So anyway, she kinda made me promise not so smoke anymore when we got together and I thought why not? She’s hot, I can do this!

In total, I think I lasted about a month. Life just became really boring. Is this what it’s like to walk around normal all the time? Fuck! How do people handle this! Then we went to a good mate’s party and there was a bong going around, so I took a hit when she wasn’t lookingand I’ve been smoking everyday since.

The GF hasbust me twice and both times weve had huge fights about it. Thing is though, the rest of the time I’ve gotten away with it just fine, which totally fucks up her argument of ‘Weed makes you a different person’ but how do I tell her that? How do I make her see that what i do is totally harmless and I have it totally under control?

Basically, how do I get back to smoking a joint after work everyday and on weekends without completely freaking her out?

Help!

J-dogg

Ahh yes. The age-old conundrum of changing who you are to better suit your woman’s whims. We’ve all been there, but all I can say is J-dogg, my man, you fucked this one up royally right from day one.

“She kinda made me promise not so smoke anymore when we got together”? What the hell does that mean? How does a person “kinda” make you promise something?

“Umm J-dogg, please could you not smoke weed anymore, but if you want to that’s ok too,” is that what she said to you homeboy? Huh? Sounds like a buncha jibba-jabba jive talk to me shorty and I ain’t havin’ none ‘o that!

Sorry, I’ve been watching a lot of The Wire recently… um, interspliced with reruns of the A-Team…

 

 

Your HUGE fuck-up here is you set the wrong expectations at the beginning of your relationship – schoolboy error my man, but forgivable because she is hot. Men often say and do fucktarded things because of hot chicks, I think I read somewhere that it’s in our DNA or something.

I guess in your defence, maybe you honestly thought you could kick the mahanga-janga and figured it was worth a shot, fair enough. But never smoking again means NEVER. SMOKING. AGAIN. Not when you’re bored, not when you’re pulling a sickie at work, not when you buy your next X-Box game and kick back for an intense 10-hour gaming marathon, and sure as fuck not when you’re next hanging out with your buddies and one of them whips out a bucket and says, “Hey, let’s smoke three of these, take a hit of acid and go watch ‘Dawn Of The Dead’”.

 

 

Actually, as a general principle no one should do that. Hiding under a cinema seat, mumbling to no one and trying to chew your fingers off is no way to spend a Saturday morning. Or so I’m told…

If you really love this girl and want to make something out of what you have together, try and see if you can work out some kind of compromise like limiting your smoking to one day a week, I think that’s reasonable.

But then you gotta stick by that. Fuck up once, she’ll forgive you. Fuck up twice, things are gonna get rocky. Fuck up three times and it’s toast. If she takes you back after that, things will never be the same and like the little girl in the opening scene of Dawn Of The Dead your love will become a zombie.

Not dead, not alive, just flopping around uselessly, hungry for braaaiiiinnnssss.

That’s my take on things my man, but I’m more than happy to open the floor to my panel of trusted experts, many of whom I’m sure have had hands-on experience with this ‘wacky baccy’ you speak of.

Me, I tried the stuff at a party once, but I never inhaled 😉

-ST

14
Jan
10

Bar One Manhunt – Only Cool Because Of Phil

Last week I walk into our lounge, fresh from helping Graumpot try jump start his car after it died while he was in Mozam, and who do I see on TV? My buddy Phil!

It was cool to see one of my buddies on TV instead of me for a change. I’m on TV all the time. I’ll sleep anywhere when I’m drunk 😉

Needless to say, from that point on I was glued to the set. I went to school and varsity with Phil, but hadn’t seen the guy probably since 2005, so I was rooting for him 100%. We used to row together back in highschool, and no by ‘rowing’ I don’t mean this:

 

 

I mean this:

 

 

It’s a physically demanding sport and as far as I could tell, Phil still does it, which is why he probably decided to enter the Bar One Manhunt.

From what I can tell, the idea behind the show is a whole bunch of guys get taken through one gruelling physical task after the next, and with each task, or series of tasks they go through more and more guys get eliminated until there is just one left.

And that one guy, after surviving countless hellish tasks, pushing his body to the limit, sweating blood and getting his ass kicked all over public TV, after going through all that shit, that one guy wins…

A Bar One?

Who fucking knows? Not me. It might have slipped my attention, but I’ve watched two shows so far and still have no idea what they’re actually competing for. That’s a pretty major fail if you ask me.

The other major fail is the fact that the show is hosted by Ursula Stapelfeldt, who scares the living crap out of me. Just have a look at this smile, it’s like staring directly into the sun.

 

 

Ursula. Likes. To speak. Like this. While making. Lame. Gestures. With. Her hands.

I mean, yeah, the contestants on the show are a bunch of meathead guys mostly, who’re probably way better at competing in triathlons than they are understanding complicated instructions, but c’mon, they’re not retarded, and nor are we.

Last week ended on this mind blowing cliff-hanger because the show chose to throw all the rules of reality TV out the window and instead of ending the episode by telling us who actually got eliminated, they chose instead to pump the dramatic music to a nauseating level as. They. Announced. That. The. First two people. To. Be. Eliminated. From. The Bar One. Manhunt.

Are…

[To Be Continued]

Ow! My balls!

 

 

Thanks guys, great climax right there. Go suck a fuck.

So I sat diligently in front of the telly last night for the second episode of the show, which began with two people getting eliminated – how random. There’s a reason why every reality show on TV follows the same format, don’t fuck with that. No one gives a damn if you eliminate people at the beginning of a TV show.

We haven’t built up any kind of relationship with those guys over the course of the episode, we don’t give a rat’s ass that they have to go home, hell, we can’t even remember who they were, a week has gone by! If something can hold my attention for longer than 5 minutes, call Guinness. But a week?

From there the episode started wandering all over the place like a drunk trying to find a McDonalds in a frog storm. The first challenge was to build a raft out of barrels, wooden planks and nylon rope. Both teams’ rafts fell to pieces the second they went through the first set of rapids, for which neither team were penalised in any way.

After that some quad biking ensued, followed by a spot of cycling, a fucktarded ‘mental’ challenge involving a number of poles that both teams solved in about 40 seconds and then a jog to the finish line the following morning where we all held our breath for the earth shattering news that. The people. Getting. Eliminated. From this week’s episode. Were…

No one!

Christ! My balls!

 

 

Non elimination round. Thank you very much for watching. That’s 30 minutes of your life you can NEVER GET BACK.

Phil rocked though. Forget the show itself, just watch it for Phil and if he gets eliminated, stop watching the show immediately or Ursula’s 1000000 Watt smile will make you blind.

Fact.

-ST