Wednesday, December 21, 2005

The Agents of Father Xmas



For fucksakes, It’s friggin Christmas again.
The time of year when I am reminded that I simply do not have the money to replace my TV, or whatever it is that I’m about to throw at it every time the fuckin ads come on. The worst are by far the fuckers who can’t afford new ads, or who are just too fuckin lazy to make the effort. They just recycle the same old pathetic fuckin spin that was probably thought out by some egotistical director who schemes he has some sort of artistic gift, because he took Art 1 in Pre-school. Which I must admit, is better schooling than when you join the governmental cycle of tertiary incompetence. (Yes Mr. President, It’s you and me again) But, that’s beside the point.
It’s mostly the retailers – OK bazaar, Checkers (one and the same), the Hyperama (those of the Heyday sale, also OK Bazaar subsidiary) etc, etc, who are the biggest transgressors of the crap we call ad-breaks. I’m also disappointed with Musica and their pathetic excuse of an ad campaign this loony season (otherwise, together with the Nando’s ads they are normally worth staying in the room for). Not only are they pushing the fuckin useless artists who need money to buy expensive over-the-top presents for their spoilt brats, but they do it in a style so totally fuckin lame it makes you wanna puke. We all know (well me anyway) that it’s the time of year where musicians bring out their money-making ‘Best Of’ or ‘Greatest Hits’ CD’s which some of you fuckers lap up like sheep. Never-mind that you buy the same fuckin CD every year or have the Artists’ whole collection that between them contain all their songs anyway.
I can make a list right now, and you can mark my words they’ll have a compilation CD out at Christmas time next year. Let me give you a few examples: Bryan Adams, Westlife (or any other ‘boy-band’). Any 80’s solo artist or band who hasn’t brought out an ‘album’ in yonks - Billy Joel -Meatloaf, or has since died and his family or their Lawyer need the bucks, like Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley; and let’s not forget the Beatles (those that are left anyway). In fact I’m sure Paul Mcartney is only as stinking rich as he is because of the Beatles. Quite frankly I think his music sucks, and any fucker that buys his CD’s does so purely out of a childlike obsession or has a weakness for Idolising. Christ! How can I forget Boney M! But, for those of you who might have read more than a few lines in this blog, I will not venture in that direction again.
The other shit that floods the market this time of year is of course the 'Dutchmen' compilations. 50 Braavleis Treffers, Sokkie met jou Bokkie 2005 and of course the ahh (excuse me while I stiffle a yawn) The Ultimate Rock Collection #435.

Go fuck yourselves, agents of Santa!



Blow it out your arse..

I’d be all for the new smoking laws if it wasn’t so much that the government is beginning to treat us like fuckin children. Let’s face it, ex-smokers are the biggest hypochondriacs when it comes to the baseless furore created over second-hand smoke inhalation. Yeah, yeah, chill the fuck out while I explain.
I don’t give a fuck if you are a Nobel peace-prize winning Scientist, you cannot tell me that percentage-wise, second-hand smoke does more damage than the pollution our friendly industrialised neighbours force down our throats every day. (Read: America, Russia, China and Britain, to name but a few) To be quite honest we don’t exactly have a clean slate either when it comes to air pollution.
The worst is the fact that we emulate our so-called first world nations in adopting regulations and laws that infringe on our personal freedom, yet they (first-world nations) are the biggest transgressors when it comes to fucking up this Planet we call home.
Four or five decades ago, computers that used to solve simple mathematical problems had to be the size of football fields. Now they fit in the palm of your hand, and are able to do so much more. And Bush wants to tell me that solving the pollution emitted from his country’s factories will be too expensive and adversely affect profits, so as to make businesses unable to continue functioning. What the fuck is he smoking?
What pleases me about the new smoking laws is the fact that they are going to make people aware of the dangers by showing you exactly what your lungs look like when you smoke. This will be done with in-your-face advertising that, I guess, will be similar to the adverts denouncing experiments done on our fellow inhabitants of this Planet; the animals. If that doesn’t stop you smoking, I don’t think myself smacking you on the head with a blunt instrument will help either.
So stop fuckin smoking already!



…Honey! , Where’s me fuckin ashtray?

Monday, December 19, 2005

New Bike



Ja, so I finally bought another bike this weekend. And yes, it's a Kawasaki.
On a personal level, I've always leaned more towards a Yamaha than any other manufacturer, but to tell the truth each make has it's good and it's bad models. At least it's not a fuckin Honda. That would be sacrilege.
What I have now is a ZX600 motor squeezed into a 400cc body with a Ducati-type tailpiece, and a small Shark-type headlight assembly. Probably the closest I'll get to owning a Ducati. The colour I'm not gonna mention, because it is just too bloody bright, but that will be sorted soon enough with a Satin Black spray-job. It needs a little work with the 2nd gear that slips, but otherwise I'm quite chuffed.

Ink and Iron Saloon




On Saturday myself and a few friends spend the day at The Ink and Iron Saloon in the South. The music was entertaining enough to start with, but when the Band of Gypsies arrived later, it rocked. If you want to hear hard in-your-face rock then this is the band you need to listen to. There are no amateur pretences with these guys. The music is loud, and with enough of a fuck you attitude to rock your pants off.




The food was befuck and at a good price as well. I left with the good feeling of a day well spent, having seen some old friends again, and meeting a few new ones.
Hopefully, now that I'm mobile again, I might just see you guys often enough to make a fuckin nuisance of myself again.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Cops and Cowboys

Can someone please explain to me the purpose of having roadblocks in peak-hour.
For three days running now I've encountered roadblocks on different roads and highways in and around Johannesburg. The first roadblock happened on the Golden Highway travelling from Alberton to Uncle Charlie's. Thankfully I saw the back-up from a distance and was able to take a detour home via Rifle Range road. The traffic was backed up from Voortrekker Road Off ramp in Alberton all the way to Uncle Charlie's. That was ten minutes into the roadblock, and God only knows how much further it went ten or twenty minutes after that. In my estimate, the distance of the congestion created was in the region of about 10 to 15km's.
The next day I encountered another roadblock at the Maraisburg off-ramp. Thankfully the roadblock had just been set up and I was able to get through. On my way back(travelling on a different road), the traffic had already backed up to about 5 km's from the direction of Soweto. Once again this roadblock was in peak-hour. The third one was on the Soweto Highway heading from Booysens to Soweto. The cars were backed up at least 3km's within just a few minutes that I sat in traffic. The reason why I encountered all these roadblocks, is simply because I'm trying to find the best route home after picking up the missus from work.
Fuckin hell, maybe the cops know something I don't. Perhaps in training they learn that this would be the best time to catch car jackers, bank robbers, arms dealers or search for stolen vehicles.
To me, with my zero police experience, exept from the otherside-of-the-fence-perspective, it makes absolutely no fuckin sense. Most of our country's citizens, and I'd venture to say at least 90%, are working people trying to get home at this time of day. If the cops are trying to show the public that they aren't going to take shit this holiday season, they're doing it the wrong fuckin way. A bank robber must be downright fuckin stupid if he thinks the best time for a getaway would be during peak-hour traffic. If I wanted to steal a car, would I fuckin honestly attempt it at this time? I might as well walk into a cop staion and confess for thinking it. Speeding is impossible in peak-hour. So excuse me for being hugely Titanic-like dumbfounded.
Instead of munching their fuckin doughnuts at crown interchange in the mornings(Sometimes as many as 12 cop cars congregate there in the mornings), they should be part of the traffic. They cause more congestion standing at the side of a road, than they would if they were driving up and down between the traffic. That would be my solution. Give each cop a route to travel on the highways and byways around Jo'burg. Alternate the routes and swop the cops around, so that at any given time there's a cop car within k's of each other, either travelling in opposite directions or within a reasonable distance of each other, travelling in the same direction. Your reaction time to an emergency is so much quicker when you are moving, than stuffing your face or posing as a Cowboy by the side of the road. If a cop is alert enough(one can only pray for moments like these) roadblocks should only ever be necessary to prevent a getaway of some sort.
Maybe it's good that I'm not in Law Enforcement(I just wanna laugh when I say that out loud).

This rant may be just because I have such a deep-set paranoia when it comes to law-enforcement(ha, ha, ha).

And would all you fuckers waiting for the holiday traffic to thin out, please get in your fuckin cars and fuck off already, so that the few of us still working can get to and from fuckin work a little easier. Thank you very fuckin much!

Friday, December 09, 2005

The criminal cycle

I was woken this morning at about 3:15am with Black barking like there's no tomorrow. It would have been no different from any other night when someone walks past the property, however this time Black was also forcing a very low growl in the direction of our gate.
As much as I peered through the curtains I could not see what the reason for his unease was. But, as I peered through the kitchen window, I saw that our little Golf had grown a life of it's own, and was slowly wheeling itself backwards away from the house. I didn't hesitate, and woke up my girlfriend and told her to get the gun, as someone was attempting to steal our car. I switched the lights on and dearest pulled off a shot in the direction of the three fuckers, who were now, get this ; slowly jogging away down the road. I immediately phoned 147 and was put through to our nearest Police station. My girlfriend phoned her father who lives 5k's down the road, and he looked for the fuckers while driving up, but with no luck

It took the cops 25minutes to get there, which is about as far as the police station is. Not bad. They were quite friendly, and had a look around. Weird that they asked me if I had a Maglight though. And here I thought it was standard Police issue. Maybe I watch too many American cop shows, fuck knows. The cop said that they had already passed our house on two occasions that same night, once at about 9pm, when I waved at them and again at about 2am. We had two alternatives; drive the car to the cop station for fingerprinting or wait for the detectives to come from Johannesburg. My girlfriend asked if we could get a courtesy car while they did this, as we needed to get to work. Nice one baby!
The cops made no other attempt to start anything official, and chatted away while I was freezing my balls off in my shorts, so we politely waved our goodbyes, and off they went with the promise to look in on us over the next couple of days. We couldn't find the other two dogs, who had given chase down the road after the three guys. They eventually came back later, very excited and with lots of tail wagging.
So Black was tested and came through with flying colours. And of course I have to thank my girlfriend, who didn't hesitate to act when the shit hit the fan. Good on ya girl!
You guys can learn from her. Don't hesitate to hit back when you're a victim of crime. Let the fuckers know you mean business, and won't be fucked with.

And to all my "Buddies" who didn't get my hint that I want to go to the Poison Rally, and to send me money, enjoy the rally, hope you lot get so fuck drunk and loose all your fuckin money."Fuckers" ..........no seriously, have a good one.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Breathe in...



From :
Dumb-as-two-short-planks.


Dear Mr. Know-it-all,
How much does a clutch cable cost?

Well D-a-t-s-p, that all depends on where you shop(or break down for that matter).

If you break down anywhere near where I did yesterday during peak hour, I'd say about R 1810.03.
That would be discounting the frustration of pushing your car down a single lane of a very busy road, while friendly fellow-citizens stand along the pavement, pointing and smiling, without offering to help, and fifty-odd cars queing behind you, their drivers impatiently drumming their fingers on their steering wheels.

For me to reach this Quantum I had to realize the following:

A clutch cable plus installation costs more than R 114.71

In fact this would apply to any part that you ever had to replace in your car or bike. If a mechanic had to drive your car, the scraping noises that your brakes were making would be more than just the brake pads which are shot. Through his fine tuned, mechanic's-ear, he would also take note of the higher than normal decibel level of the front right bearing, and the slight shudder on the steering when he turns left while gearing down to second. Indicating a buggered CV joint. So the R180.00 that you drew at the ATM for FERODO PLATINUM'S is just not gonna fix the problem. When the mechanic gives you the final "quote", your ass is looking at working 18 hours overtime on the weekend, ...for the labour.

Here's the breakdown of my "Clutch cable replacement":

Customer Instructions: Clutch cable instalation

Workshop report and repairs : Complete clutch overhaull (After my approval)
Top up gear oil
Description parts and costs :
1 Clutch R 784.02
1 Spigot oil seal selector shaft bush (huh?) R 36.02
1 Gearoil R 45.80
1 Bearing cover R 64.19
1 Rear main oil seal and housing R 430.00

Labour R 450.00

Total R 1 810.03 + clutch cable R 114.71 Grand Total = R 1 924.74

The good that came from my breakdown :

1) A Golf that drives like a dream. Just like I'm sure It did the day it was bought.
2) Lower-than-normal blood pressure, because driving in peak-hour traffic is now less stressful.
3) Realising that my breathing exercises actually work. (See point 4 and 5 below)
4) The mechanic does good work, if you have the money.

The bad:
1) An empty bank account. Well almost. It would be if I was able to draw R 12.75.
2) My well-planned, and much-looked-forward-to weekend to the Poison Rally is up shit creek.
3) Lots of parties to go to, but.. see point 1.
4) Girlfriend's father laughing, because I paid so much.
5) Girlfriend's brother saying he would have done it for free.

That, D-A-T-S-P is the cost of a clutch cable.

Have a nice day and enjoy the Rally, Fuckers!





Friday, December 02, 2005

Completed the Peacepipe


All that is left now is to smooth the edges and engrave the buyer's name .

The Pipe is made of bamboo. With hand-stiched leather, and a terracota bowl. I used Rabbit skin around the bowl. The terracota will be stained to darken it slightly.
This pipe took me two and a half weeks to complete. The bowl is the most difficult as it needs to dry at room temperature and often cracks.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

The Expert in Biker matters...

Dear Mr. Know-It-All,

How do I become a Dumbass-Biker for my first Rally,as opposed to those Bikers who've been around for years and always look so cool?

Well, It's really quite easy if you follow my 10 easy steps to being an asshole.

1. Get yourself an old Denim wastecoat(Jackets without sleeves). Alternatively get a Denim jacket and cut the sleeves off. About R50 from your local Station flea market.
Throw it around in the dirt and stomp on it, so it looks used. Some okes piss on it. That's olraait, do it for that 'extra touch'. Chicks smaak the animal smell anyway.

2. Get a big Honda cloth badge, and stitch it on the back of your new jacket. Make sure you stitch it by hand and that it sits a bit skeef.

3. Dig into your father(pa)/uncle(oom)/grandfather's(oupa) old army trunk, and find some old army badges and attach them to the front-left and right of your jacket. You can also buy some cloth badges at the non-biker stalls at rallies with some lekker fuck-you statements embroided on them. Like ; Praat Afrikaans of Vokkof! - Bikers eat their young - 100% BITCH etc, etc,..

4. Buy overpriced t-shirts at the same stalls with fuck-you statements on the front. Tear some holes in them and smear grease or dirt on them.
Don't buy expensive, 100% cotton t-shirts, with once off logos. These will make you stand out and look too different.

5. Borrow the old HONDA XL 125 from your grandfather's farm, or standing in the backyard. Take out the Baffle(not the Dof-look, but the insides of the exhaust), and give it a lekker spray job. You can buy spray cans from your local Hardware store. The coolest colours are mostly Purple, Pink or lekker dayglo Green or Yellow. Don't spray it dark colours like Black, Blue or heaven forbid Ducati-Red. That looks way-too-cool, and people will be standing around admiring your bike the whole day.

6. The next step is gonna be your most expensive, and you should choose carefully. Go to the Oriental Plaza in Jo'burg, or any Indian or Chinese Clothing warehouse. Buy yourself those lekker biker jackets made from Genuine Immitation Leather. They have some nice Bike-racing decals on already. Remember to choose the ones with the brightest colours. You could even match it to the colour of your bike. It's gonna set you back about R200.00, but if you do some wheeling and dealing you could bring it down to about R125.00 or so.
You're almost ready

7. Go to your local Pawn shop and pick up a lekker helmet. They go for about R30 to R70. They're just as safe as the expensive ones. Spray the helmet the same colour as your bike. If you really wanna make a statement, put a dayglo Mohican hairstyle thing on the helmet. That's really gonna pull the chicks.

8. Now, go to your first Rally (The Rhino and Impala are very popular with okes who think the same way you do). Remember to bitch and moan about the high entrance fee. I mean R150.00 for the whole weekend is a bloody rip-off.

9. Find a lekker spot, preferably as close as possible to someone else's tent, and set up camp. I almost forgot.. you must remember to swear as much as possible, all the time. Otherwise no one's gonna take you seriously.

Now comes the easiest part.

10. Drink as much as possible, in fact, drink more than you think you can handle. Then ride your bike up and down the whole weekend, and cause kak with everyone you see. Once some oke stands his ground and fucks you up silly, you'll know you've arrived in the world of biking. Then you can go home on Sunday, and only have to come back to the same Rally again next year.

So maklik soos meid-naai.
Good luck

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Real Surfing.. Foaming waves, getting wet and stuff.



On Saturday when I came into the office, my internet connection was down. After trying whatever I could internally, I realised the problem was bigger than I could handle, and left it at that. On Monday our technical guy said that he needed to get hold of the 'People', because he couldn't find the problem either. So eventually the 'People' rock up on Wednesday and start testing. After much ohh and aahing they finally realise that the Hub is blown and needs to be replaced. We happen to have a spare one, and I wait for my local area connection to flash on, while I work away. After about an hour, still fuckin nothing. So I hop over to the next office and ask if they're connected. Yes, they are, but the boss has disconnected my cable, as I do not need the internet for work. Just fuckin lovely. Thanks for telling me fuckhead. At first I wasn't too bothered. I can always use someone elses pc should I need to check or send mail. I could also upload my articles to my blog, from another pc or do it from an Internet Cafe over the weekend. But, then I asked myself that question again.. Why?
We have an unlimited 'cap' on our server. So money or space is not the problem. I check my mail in the mornings before work( 6:30am. to 7:45am). I don't have time during the day to surf, so I'm mostly on the Internet on my breaks. So if he thought it interfered with my work, he was wrong. I don't download that much, but that's a space issue, which again is not a problem. So why, Boss? Is it because you're just a grumpy old fuck and you want to piss me off? Is it because I work my fuckin butt off for shit pay, and you wanna give me more grief? Or heaven's forgive me, I just don't need it for work.

I haven't been to the coast for a really long time, so I think I'm gonna put in some over-time (A lot) which I don't need, get myself a longboard and head down to Durban for a weekend. In fact, I think I'll do it this December, seeing as the work has really piled up, and with deadlines looming before we close for Christmas Season, it will be just dandy.

Ahh yes, that will do just fine thank you.

Fully dudes!

Friday, November 18, 2005

Rugby World Cup 2011

It's all my fault, I'm useless.. whaaaaa...







Boo hoo hoo... We lost the bid to host the Rugby World Cup. Ag shame.
The only thing that I'm perplexed about(Francois Pienaar was) , is the fact that New Zealand got it. Fuck me, but how do you expect to spread the game around the World if the World Cup is only hosted by the top nations in the game? I think Japan showed amazing character in the previous World Cup, and it was a slap in the face of Rugby growth in the World to give it to a country who has already hosted a cup.
So Francois Pienaar was perplexed. Was he perplexed because he thought it was a foregone conclusion? Or is there really a old-school Rugby fraternity that hold all the cards, and it was expected that we should host? Fuck them all then. Who the fuck do we think we are these days. We (South Africa) have become so smug with self-importance since our new democracy, that we seem to think we are the only country in the world worth talking about. We thought hosting the Rugby World Cup was a great achievement. Apart from the fact that we won the cup, it was far from successful. And now we've got the Soccer World Cup in 2010. Do they have any fuckin idea how huuuge soccer is, as apposed to Rugby in the World. Most countries don't even fuckin know what Rugby is. To make matters worse the so-called Gautrain is in big shit. Not only do I think it won't be ready in time for the cup, I don't think it's gonna work even if it is completed.(mark these words)
Once you've hosted a World cup in sport, or even the Olympic Games, that's it. You shouldn't be allowed to bid for at least 20 years. Give some of the bottom ten a chance to host. Spread the fortunes, and uplift sport and education where it's needed.
We don't need the exposure or the money. Our government has money, but they just don't allocate it according to necessity. And if they need money, get it from the Lotto. Those fuckers who run it, are getting way to fuckin rich.

The Bok team manager, Arthrob Petersen, said in reaction: "To say we're disappointed is and under statement. We honestly thought South Africa had a very good chance to host the RWC.
"Given our infra-structure ( What fuckin infra-structure? ) and the expertise we have to host a tournament of such magnitude, I thought common sense ( Excuse me? ) would prevail and we would get the bid. (Dream on fuckers)

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

The dog, Ice-cream and Wet dreams.



I'm convinced my dog is conscious of the world around him, and knows exactly what I'm saying or doing.
Everytime I do something that interrupts 'Black-time' , something goes wrong. Last night I left the Ice-cream on the kitchen table to soften a bit, and continued to play with Black. About an hour later my phone rang. You should know that Black get's seriously pissed off when my phone rings longer than necessary. He either starts howling, or bails out of the room. I went outside to speak, and was busy for quite a while. When I returned to the kitchen after my call, the ice-cream was all over the floor, and Black was merrily licking it all up. There was nothing I could do. There's no way I was gonna pick it up and eat it. So I just let Black at it.
A while ago I left my supper on the table, and popped out to the cafe to get some Coke. When I returned Black had eaten everything. I ended up having Hot dogs for supper.
He watches every move I make, just waiting for the opportunity to make me aware of my stuff-ups. Or sometimes, he just does things to test my patience. I leave the door open for him the whole time before I go to bed. He has the freedom to go for a leak, or walk as he pleases. The moment I close up, and get into bed, he will get up and go and scratch at the door to be let out. It's annoying, and I think he does it out of spite.
At crucial times during a Need4Speed race, he'd just walk straight past, snagging the control, and there goes my car, flying into crapstreet. Other times he'd lie flat on the control-wire and I'd have to shift right to the edge of my seat to continue. And I'm sure I can hear him snigger, or see him sneer sardonically out of the corner of my eye.
The other thing Black does is weird. He has wet dreams. I'm not kidding! At least once every week or so, I find him on his couch, curled up into the smallest ball, 'going at it'. In the past I tried to make him stop, but that's just not possible. He's humping away with this look on his mug, while his body contorts and jerks away. Now what I do, is take this opportunity to get back at him for the times that he pisses me off. I'd put some leftovers in front of him, and taunt him to eat it. Or walk out the door and call him with cheery happy sounds. The poor dog is disabled. He can't stand or even acknowledge what's going on around him. When he eventually manages to get up(Still jerking), he goes straight for biting my ankles, as if getting me back for mocking him.
Dogs, you gotta love 'em.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Eddie Guerrero



Okay, I must admit. As much as I bitch and moan about the farce of Wrestling to my friends, I am secretly a fan. I bite my nails and smoke more than is the norm during the hour of wrestling. Eddie was by far the most entertaining of the lot.

Lie, cheat and steal...

Rest In Peace Eddie

Dear Mr. President..

We need a revolution. A real revolution. A revolution by the people, the citizens, the true and only rulers of this nation. A revolution of burning cars, where treasonist government officials get the noose.
The government has forgotten why they were elected. They steal our money, they disregard the poor, and blame everyone but themselves.
Mr. Mbeki was very upset about the burning of commuter trains the other day. I say let them burn baby, let them burn. Our transport system is in a state of fuckin disrepair, and instead of firing the fuckin minister in charge, he takes his anger out on the people. Well fuck that, for missing the point completely.
I don't see a five year plan to sort this shit out. Fuck, I don't think the government even have a five month plan! Why do the fuckers only get off their fat arses when the shit hits the fan? We as citizens should stop kissing arse, or take this shit lying down. The government has the god-damn responsibility to do the fuckin job they were elected to do. Instead they make lame-ass excuses every time something goes wrong. The only time they show and inkling of a brain-wave, is when we get the Rugby, Soccer or Cricket World Cup.
Fuck the Sport, for fuck sakes! Give me a transport system where I can get to work on time, without having to wake up at 4am, and you'll be halfway to cracking a smile on my face. Give me a Hospital where I walk out healthier than when I walked in. Give me a water and lights bill that truly reflects what I use every month. Stop charging me toll fees for riding a motorbike. I'm doing my bit to save energy and fuel, so why don't you reward me for that, instead of your 'Brown Shirts' harassing me around every fuckin corner. And you can, Oh My God! me, all you like, but fuck the old people! They're taking up space, and using valuable resources, just to be a pain in the neck for another few years. Fuck'em. If you're dying, you're dying. Give the man peace, and let him go. I'm heading for old age, and I couldn't be less stressed than having passed a fart.
So what? If I reach Fifty, cool. If I don't, whatever. If I can still move and shag at Sixty, well, blow me over. If I make Seventy, I've gone to far. I'll be the grumpiest old fart in the world anyways.
Don't even let me get started on the Safety Situation in my Country. Fuck the statistics. Get your hands dirty and sort the criminals out. Stop treating them like porcelain, and send the fucker away for Christ sakes.
And blow me, but fuck the rest of the world as well. What small percentage of the citizens will get to see it, apart from on photos anyway? Fuck Sierra Leone, Fuck Syria, and Fuck the DRC as well.
Look after us first Mr. President. When you've sorted out the crap that is our Country, then you can go and flash your Armani at the Monte Carlo Christmas Ball.
And you fuckers on the street. Stop lapping up all the shit that is fed to you by the government. Our country is fucked up. The sooner you realize it the better for all of us.

Look beyond Table Mountain. We have nothing to be proud of.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Dark Dreams...

Dark Dreams



My dreams are all dark. They've always been. I can't remember that I've ever had happy dreams. Dreams of sunshine and beaches.

I dream of mountains, dark mountains. I'm high up in trees. Dark Trees. Trees so high they touch.. nothing. I'm standing or walking on high walls, rooftops and visiting Malls that are high up in the mountains. Always end up in this one store. A sort of hardware store. It's always dark. There's a woman that also walks there in the store. She's looking at the displays, touching things. She has very long, dark hair. I go up some stairs, and then I'm outside, high up in the mountains. It's very green and the branches of the trees are swaying. I'm high up, and when I jump, I land in a pool. The pool is so deep. The water a dark blue-green. I dive deep down, but see no bottom. I keep diving.
My air runs out, and I wake up.

I've had this dream forever.

Monday, November 07, 2005

No Honky-tonk shit here...



We went to the Farm Party, held by Cedric and friends in Walkerville, and it was just the way to spend a Saturday. No Honky-Tonk American-South shit. The Music was good Rock, inter-mixed with some mellow blue-sey rythms and fantastic interludes by guest musos who know where it's at.
I kept eyeing the pile of tree stumps, so very ready to be lighted for the bon-fire, but managed to contain myself this time round, and just enjoyed the music and good crowd. The beers were cold, and the Rum smelt like it should, smelly.

Good on ya Cedz. When's the next one?

Friday, October 21, 2005

Okay, jokes over.. get to work


In the realm of the dead, only the living suffer

It is not hell of which I speak

If you are God and you are there, It is time to get to work

The world has been at worship for a few thousand years

begging you to come sort this crap out..

It's your turn

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Roadkill .........and the travelling Plague



We thought the roads would be pretty clear this morning, as the government implemented their one-day public transport initiative.
No fuckin way! If anything, the traffic was in fact a little heavier when we left for work at 05:45am. I'm not surprised. Even though it was advertised, there just isn't enough workable trains and buses to have made it work in the first place. What the government should have done, is prepare some six to ten months ago already. All the busses that were in disrepair should have been serviced, and thereby giving a boost to the schedules and the extra passengers that would be expected. Just two extra buses per route will already increase the frequency of the stops, and thereby satisfy the additional volume.
But no, the fuckers think everybody's just gonna drop everything and rush over to the bus/train station. Have you seen the state of the train stations? Christ man, it's just one level short of a dumping ground. When I was in Belgium, I almost got arrested for dropping a candy wrapper. It took me 20minutes to placate the Station Police and beg for forgiveness. For a candy wrapper, fucksakes!
The other day I caught a train to a buddy who stays 3 stations from me. There were bums lying all over the station, beggers bugging me for every fuckin minute of the 35minutes the train was overdue. And when the train pulled into the station, some fucker was standing right there in the open pissing on the tracks! Not withstanding the fact that there's an old man selling Mary Jane under a big oak tree, right at the entrance. I wouldn't have minded so much had it been good shit, but alas, it wasn't. That's just the station. Nevermind that the trains themselves are below standard even for Apocolypse survivors. The toilets stopped functioning after they were installed, and allowed to be sculptured into mounds of crap, by fuckers who have no remnants of human-design left in their minds or bodies. The seats are cut to shreds, and I can publish a 1000-Page book on the the graffiti alone. I've been in the army, and I've slummed it at times, but even I didn't touch the poles or hand-rails, for fear of getting The Plague.
Then their's the scammers and bullies, who harras the old and the weary, for money, cigarettes and food. The loud Bible-bashing train-evangelists who sing religious crap, and force pamphlets into your hand or pockets.
Do you, for one fuckin minute think that an average middle-class citizen is gonna queue to get some of that action? Not in a million years, mate. Those on the breadline are already using the services(what?), because they have no choice. They need to get to work. Unless the government changes the transport system with the same urgency it's changing the street names, things just ain't going to change for the better. Best they just shake their pockets and buy more oil.

For those stupid enough to have used the 'system' this morning, hurry the fuck up, you're late for work!

Friday, August 12, 2005

The Meaning of NO.

So, we get there on Friday, and this guy with a blue school blazer walks up to me and asks me for a cigarette. Now, when someone asks you a question in that way it leaves you open to two choices. Either Yes or No. I've been planning this trip for a long time, and worked a lot of overtime to save up, so that I can have enough beers, cigarettes, food and spending money. If I give this guy a cigarette he'll be back tomorrow for more, and then maybe a beer here and there, and before long I have to start begging. So I thought, Fuck him, and said No. Man, the look on his face. Then he proceeds to argue with me. I told him that he left me the choice and I said No. What the fuck is up with that? Anyway he must have told the rest of his buddies, because from thereon, only my buddies were approached by beggars. The other fuck-nut I had the displeasure of meeting, was a chap called 'Scott'. I apologise if he's your buddy, I'm sure he's a nice enough chap when he is sleeping. However, if you are just there to drink and smoke yourself into stupidity, you've already missed the point, and should stay the fuck away from me. Don't get me wrong, I was quite tanked up, and sampled a few drags here and there as well, but when you become an idiot, you should go and sleep it off, rather than make your name poes. So that's my short and sweet on Oppikoppi.
Thank you all again for visiting my site. I hope the photos brought back memories of a good weekend. I trust some of you will continue visiting, and please leave me a comment. It's good to know what you guys think as well. Now fuck off and get back to work.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Nog kak praat en dinge - Oppikoppi

Ek het gedink ek moet miskien n bietje met julle gesels in Afrikaans, sienende dat dit my moeder taal is. En as dit kak lyk, tough shit. Hoe langer ek in fokken Johannesburg bly hoe meer besmet raak my Afrikaans met Engelse Kak. In elkgeval, ek het al vir n rukkie Radio Kalahari Orkes enjoy, en al geluister met n bree glimlag op my gesig. Dit laat mens sommer moerse lekker voel as jy n klomp musos op die stage sien wat hulle self amper meer as die crowd geniet. Verder deur die naweek het die musiek meer n agtergrond murmur geword soos die drank met my bloed en brein begin komunikeer het. Dis seker kak van my, maar vir my het dit meer as net oor musiek gegaan. Wat my regtig in die lewe fasineer is mense en hulle interaksie met al die dinge wat na ons gegooi word in ons leeftyd. Ok, ok, ek gaan nou nie te fokken filosofies raak nie. Ek skryf nie om mense aan die slaap te maak nie, maar eder dat hulle my trakseer as hulle nie met my saamstem nie. Hoe interesant kan die lewe wees as ons alewig net kopskud en voort fok. My web site is nou al twee weke aan die gang en ek het nog fokol negetiewe kretiek gekry nie. Dis fokken boring! Daar is nie n manier dat al die fokkers wat sover gelees het met alles bliksemswil saamstem nie. As jy dink ek het die bus gemis, gebruik jou fokken vingers en skryf dan so. Is dit n Suid Afrikaanse trent dat ons maar net saamstem terwyl mense ons eintlik so debliksem in kan maak dat ons ons fokken hare wil uitrek, he? Goed, genoeg gekerm.
Oppikoppi was in een woord, befok! Ek se julle, dis seker die eerste keer in n fokken lang tyd dat ek na n jol gaan met so baie mense, waar daar 'fokkel' kak is nie. Mens moet alewig oor jou skouers kyk by sulke groot konserte. Ek was so fokken rustig, jy kon met my toor. Dit was miskien te doen met n knypie van die hier, en n knypie van daai daar, maar die punt is dat ek myself meer tyd toe gaan staan vir music festivals van die aard.
Vir al julle fokkers wat so vriendlik was, en natuurlik die hot meisies wat my n stiffie hier en daar gegee het, se ek dankie en sien julle volgende jaar, of die volgende erg-Afrikaanse fees.

Gesondheid!

Daar's n hond in die bos

The cobwebs have started to loosen up, and some memories have started to surface.

Oppikoppi dellivered in every aspect that I could have anticipated, and more. I've been trying to twist my buddies arms for the last year, and been trying to go myself for at least the last ten years.
Right up to the Wednesday before, I thought I was gonna be fucked over by some conniving, spitefull son of a bitch force, that was gonna forsake me another visit to the bos, to experience Oppikoppi. Friday was by far the longest day of the Year. Fuck what the Astrologist told you. Of all the days of the Year, I had absolutely no fuckin work to do, and sat twidling my thumbs, and annoying my buddies on the phone and e-mail. Well anyway, we finally got on the road and headed north. By the time we stopped for our first piss, 20 kays from home, the trip was already to long. The traffic was fucked up and we decided to slow down to an 80kay average and fuck the rest. By the time we passed Brits, cars were flying past us hooting. We finally got to the spot and unpacked all our shit. Of course neither one of my buddies paid heed to the warning, not to bring takkies or flops, so they sommer kakked from the moment they got out of the car. Jumping around like loonatics trying to find a spot without thorns. We had a cool spot right between the two main gates to the stages. And almost immediately met the first, of only 4 idiots I met the whole weekend. This doos was bumming smokes and beer from us already, and it was only Friday for fuck sakes! One of only a few things that pissed me off over the weekend. The other being the cun...s, we saw stealing stuff out of peoples tents, when they were away. Right, enough moaning.
Man, were there women! I've still got a stiff ...uh neck from all the hotties walking around. There's only so many moments as cool as women walking around, looking cool, and flirting just enough to be sexy. I don't know from wherever they come from, but they've got it down to a fine art. If this is the talent we have in South Africa, I say fuck the rest, with interest.
We finally sorted the camp, and took a trap up to the stages. It was amazingly difficult over the weekend to catch all the bands, but from what I heard, there's some good talent in SA. Now this is probably where you guys and girls send a virus to my site, but I can't say I was to impressed with Fokof... Afrikaans Nirvana, blah fuckin blah. They're cool for the chicks, and apart from one song I enjoyed, it just seemed they are to obsessed with self-promotion. Most people I spoke to were dissapointed with Karen Zoid. Well, I wasn't. I enjoyed her music, and if this is what marriage did for her, I say fuckin A. Her previous stunts were over the top. She's got the talent and doesn't have to prove anything. Sipho Hotstix also had my feet tapping, and I finally started to relax after the nightmare trip there.
Okay, got some work to do. I'll give you hooligans some more news later.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Oppikoppi

So, i'm leaving for the Oppikoppi festival today. I heard it's the biggest music festival in the country, if not Africa. I've been trying to go for the past ten years, and something always comes up. I'l be back next week to show off some pics, and give you a rundown of the debauchery that took place.
Ciao

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

The travelling T-shirt

I don't buy collectables, I collect shit. Once every now and again I get an urge, grab a black bag and throw shit out. If I didn't i'd be living in a shit-hole. The other day my dog, Black got a bit excited when I got home and bumped into a large pottery vase that was given to me, proudly I might add, by my mom. So I scraped the shit together and chucked it out. No harm done, and one less thing to take up space. During one of these urges, a few months back, I noticed an old t-shirt with a Harley motiff on, that I got from swapping with an old buddy during a night of heavy drinking. Anyhow, I in turn swapped it with some guy at a Rally and never thought of it again. Till the other day that is, when I woke up and went to have a shower. What would I notice in the mirror, but the same fuckin t-shirt. I thought I was tripping at first, but the holes and blemishes here and there, were excactly the fuckin same. I might tell you, that I don't a have a materialistic bone in my body. I've lost more cellphones, cameras and other paraphernalia than any person alive, i'm sure. Maybe i'll wake up one day and all my shit will be lying there. They say, the more you give the more you get. Well, I tell you man, if I continue losing shit at the rate that I do, i'm gonna get one big fuckin surprise one day.