Sin City

There is a Sub city here beneath us. A sub culture of near-humans, living among graffiti adorned buildings and rubbish-strewn pavements. The smells of piss and shit, a reality-covered bullet to the senses. The feeling of despair is as tangible as the nightmare I had two nights ago.

Driving down Rocky Street, these thoughts come to mind as I revisit the entrance to my University of Life. It was here, back in 1980 that I first came face to face with the nightlife of Johannesburg, and long before I ventured to the seedier side of the ‘Brow’ nearby.

Rocky Street is but a shoestring’s width from Malvern where I was born, and the flood of memories surface as I take the short drive and stop across from the ‘Ou Apostoliese Kerk van God’ in St. Amant Street. The house where I grew up is right next-door. The apple tree long ago flattened for what is now a parking lot. I remember stealing grapes from the pastor’s house with my Porra buddies, back when I was only hip-high to my father.
The corner café is now a curtain shop, and the old BP garage has since changed to a Taxi workshop. I ran away from home once, and thought the garage was a world away. That was until the Police picked me up and took me back home. They first had to lure me with some Jelly Tots and a cool drink so stubborn was I, even back then. I drive back to Rockey Street again, passing through Troyville, and crisscrossing my way over Linksfield to the new China town, in Cyrildene. All the while remembering my youth, as I pass the old Bruma Lake (now Asian City), and join the highway south, back home to the countryside. A 12-year journey of discovery - squeezed into a two-hour trip of nostalgia.

Old Faithful

I finally managed to dig out the photo of my old Rat bike. I left it behind at some pub after a serious drinking session, and left for home with buddies of mine. I haven't seen the bike since. Not sure where to start looking. If you see it somewhere give my a shout.

And If you see me at a pub somewhere and I seem to be in the same state of forgetfullness, lock up me bike and give the keys to a friend. Danke.

Jozi City Grafitti

I went out to the City, early Sunday morning to capture some Street Art before my monthly shopping. I saw some really good work, and thought I'd share. Please click on the photos to see the bigger picture.

Yeoville

Troyville

Jeppestown

Jeppestown

Newtown

Market Theatre

Selby

Tryst me..

Managed to drag B out of the house on Sunday, and we headed over to Magic's to listen to some music and relax. Cedric and Ian of Tryst fame were playing, and as always they played with passion and a clic that I find enjoyable.I've only ever had one gripe when it came to their music. With unquestionable talent and a ear for music one rarely finds with bands playing in pubs and biker venues, I find it difficult to fathom why they do not play more of their own music. Cedz has an incredible talent to take a cover version and mould and twist it in such a way, that you wonder how come you've never heard this before. And In that lies my complaint. Bikers have the inane ability to get stuck in a rut when it comes to rock music, and with this comes the unending requests for Creedence, Smokey and other boderline Country Rock songs, that have me twisting in my seat.


And although the guys handle it with with aplomb, it is not my cup of tea. Ask for some Santana, or a touch of Moore, and Cedric really comes to the fore, plucking the strings and displaying a voice that is in every way unique among S.A. musos. Stroke the ego's a bit and ask for original music, and again you're left amazed at the deep-felt lyrics, complimented by a strong voice and great guitar work.
Accompanied by a versatile Ian Brady on Base guitar and backup vocal, I'm left stymied why they don't just fuck the requests and play what they know best. Because that is what makes me come back every time.

Hope that wasn't whining too much. Always a Fan.

Cheers!

Hey Dude!

B almost stepped on this fucker last night. Our house is just a regular haven for these buggers.

A Farewell to Arms

The world is one big fucked up place, and no matter how much I tell you fuckers about it, you'll all just go right out and fuck up anyway.
You're all fuckin stupid, and trying to teach you the ways of the World is just one big motherfuckin waste of time.

So as of today I will no longer try to educate you fuckers. I'll post the occasional photo of your idiotic exploits with a short caption denoting my infinite wisdom.

I no longer wish to point out the banality of religion to fanatical fart-asses, who cannot experience the simple displeasures of life without searching for someone to blame.

You fuckers that just can't leave me the fuck alone when I sit on my Ace at a bar. Your choice from now on as to what my reaction will be when you walk over and ask me stupid questions.

And all you fuckers that are just plain fuckin stupid; Good fuckin luck out there.

Fuck all the politicians, fuck cry babies ; fuck traffic hog's and fuck the politicians.

Fuck Taxi drivers; fuck religion; and fuck stupid Dutchmen.

Fuck Shabir Shaik and Fuck Jacob Zuma; fuck the President and fuck Jackie Selebi.


There's only one God, and he's laughing his arse off.

Now fuck off and get to work.

Traffic Problems? ..Blame the Public!

In the past I’ve readily blamed the traffic authorities and government, for most of our problems on the roads of South Africa. Yesterday, however I witnessed the absolute stupidity of the public when it comes to causing congestion on our roads.

Take for instance this scenario, which played itself out on the motorway going home yesterday;

As we join the highway at Kibler Park going south towards Alberton, the traffic almost immediately slows down to a crawl. B and myself already discuss alternate routes and decide to leave the highway at the first turn-off at Randhart and cut under the highway, using a different route, which we’re both familiar with.

So we crawl along and finally we reach the turn-off at Randhart. I look a bit further and see that directly after the turn-off the traffic is flowing smoothly again. What the fuck was the reason for the congestion?

A truck had gone off the road at the on-ramp to the highway, completely out of site. Only a total fucknut, who just happened to crane his neck to near breaking point, could have noticed it. Now everyone was slowing down to stare at the accident.
On the top photo - Orange Arrow:Traffic. Yellow Arrow: Accident (Click on photo to enlarge for better view)

Total time wasted travelling 5km: 20 minutes.

During the past two months or so, the road works agency have installed steel plates on the M2 going East and West, and the speed limit is 40km/h over these plates. So what does the public do? They fuckin stop dead at every fuckin plate and creep over. Wake up South Africa and smell the traffic signs. They’re there for a reason.

The Accident.

How Bona!

This Taxi tried to take the slipway at a high speed and rolled in front of oncoming traffic. Scary!