Am I The Only One?

Cycling. Meh. Meh. Meh.

I received an email the other day, asking me why I hadn’t mentioned anything about the Pick n Pay Argus Cycle Tour which occurred a couple of weeks ago in Cape Town, and whether I had gone to see any of it. I never bothered replying to the email at the time, so Paul S, if you are reading this, allow me to answer you: I didn’t mention the Pick n Pay Argus Cycle tour simply because I find the whole thing terribly boring. I also didn’t see any of it because I was too busy watching the block of Gouda cheese in my kitchen decompose.

I’ve never seen the attraction of cycling, both as a sport and as a leisurely activity. Before anyone starts hurling insults at me, yes I can cycle and yes, I have tried it in the past. I also know many people who participate in the Cycle Tour, and who enjoy cycling.

I am not one of those people though.

As a professional sport I don’t respect it because it’s something you can easily and effectively do whist sitting down, so how hard can that really be? It’s a bit like sitting on your couch playing Tekken 6, and claiming to be an elite athlete. The Tour De France is arguably the dullest television spectacle ever conceived, and is something I will forever hold against the French.

When it comes to cycling, there is no real skill involved, you pretty much just sit on your seat, and then pedal like crazy. It all comes down to your level of fitness and how defined your calf muscles are. I’m pretty sure there are many silicon-boobed Constantia moms at the Virgin Active spinning class who could probably win the Pick n Pay Argus Cycle Tour or even the Tour De France, given half the chance.

Cycling as a leisurely pursuit is also pretty pointless. As a form of exercise, It doesn’t give you a full body workout, so you are left with a weedy body, yet strangely well-defined calf muscles, which look as if you could beat someone to death with them, if you were somehow able to detach them from your limbs and use them as clubs.

People who claim they cycle in beautiful surroundings to enjoy the view are also deluded.

The fact is, you can’t enjoy the view or your surroundings when you are cycling, as you are going too fast. It’s not as if you are able to cycle slowly either, because whilst you’re marveling at the beautiful fynbos or trying to spot the endangered Paternoster water rat, you run the risk of hitting things, like pedestrians or oncoming cars.

If that is not bad enough, the clothing attire required when cycling also leaves a lot to be desired. I did some research, and apparently it’s a constitutional law that you have to look like a complete wally when cycling. This includes wearing a helmet which makes you look like the alien from, well, Alien, as well as incredibly tight cycling shorts, which pretty much advertises your package, whilst slowly suffocating your sperm cells.

“Look at my magnificent package,” you are saying on the one hand, whilst “Look at me, I am slowly killing my baby makers” you are saying on the other. It’s an ironic contradiction and is something that women don’t want to see when it comes to selecting eligible men to procreate with. It’s for this reason why a recent UCT study showed that 91% of all heavily active cycling enthusiasts are single men, a further 83% of whom are named either Guy or Richard.

In short then, cycling is overrated, and the Pick n Pay Argus Cycle Tour even more so.

In fact, the only reason a silicon-boobed Constantia mom hasn’t won the Cycle Tour yet is because they realize, like I do, that the whole thing is just a complete waste of time, and that there are more fulfilling things to do on a Sunday morning. Like watching a block of Gouda cheese decompose.

Oakes signing off.

UPDATE: [30/03/2010] – So it seems I’ve ruffled a few feathers over the last few days. I still maintain that cycling is easy and have thus decided to man up and try it out for a few weeks. I will wear the testicle crushing shorts and the alien helmet and document my findings. Stay tuned.

What To Make?

The type of dish we are looking at.

So on Monday I will be concocting a romantic, home-cooked meal. Usually, when I make something in the kitchen it comprises of toasted bread, and fried eggs. Sometimes scrambled. Never boiled. In this instance, I will be required to take things to another level and make use of herbs, spices and other kitchen condoments. I’m usually pretty good at following orders and I have some recipes in mind. Would like to hear your feedback though, are my options decent or a bit on the crappy side? Vote below, or drop a comment if you think you have a better idea. We are all friends here after all.

Oakes signing off.

Meh

Alice: In Wonderland. Supposedly.

So the other day I went and saw Alice In Wonderland, the new film by Tim Burton and Johnny Depp. It was in 3D, and I was hoping for a trippy story, slightly scary, with werid vivid images as imagined by a warped character such as Tim Burton. I’m also a big fan of Depp and I think he is a pretty cool guy, someone I could have a beer with and not feel awkward that I’m having a beer with Johnny Depp.

Unfortunately, this film did not do it for me, and here is why:

• Meh special effects – This movie had a $200 million dollar budget, and it was in 3D. How come I felt so underwhelmed by the special effects? I don’t really know, to be honest. Maybe watching Avatar really heightened my expectations for movies now. Maybe the novelty of 3D has now worn off on me? Or maybe, the special effects on Alice is just not that breathtaking? Difficult to pin point, but it did not blow me away. Not even gently. Adequate would be the most apt description for me.
• So so storyline – This was meant to be a completely original story and serve as a sequel for the original story. (Alice has grown up considerably) Story felt flat and very drawn out to me. She is basically called back to Underland to kill the Jabberwocky (it’s a dragon). That’s the plot, and they have just padded things up to take it to 2 hours.
• Johnny Depp is annoying – Incredibly annoying. As mentioned, I am usually a fan, but am I the only one who found the Mad Hatter really irritating? He was meant to be one of the good guys, but I found myself rooting for those deck-of-card soldiers, secretly hoping one of them would spear him in the eye. His annoying on-again, off-again Scottish accent got tired very quickly, and when he does this silly little dance near the end I wanted to run up to the screen and punch him in the throat. I know it was only the screen and he would not really feel it, but I wanted to do it anyway just the same.

So yeah, I don’t want to come across as overly critical of the movie, but this should just be looked at as a balance to all the other people who seem to be creaming themselves over this movie. I thought it was “okay”, and not something I would really want to see again.

Alice In Wonderland scores a Steve-O rating of 2.5.

Oakes signing off.

Easy Peasy

Recently, I found myself having to do my own laundry, and because of this, obviously decided to buy some new clothes as I needed them. Things were pretty desperate, I was down to the suit I wear when old people die, and some fancy dress outfits, and I wasn’t really in the mood to rock up at The Office as a Christmas elf.

This then lead me to Woolworths, where I helped myself to their Country Road range, as well as their new “Fabulist” clothing items, which are pretty trendy. Now, I don’t usually go for chinos and checked shirts, but if it’s good enough for Luis Figo, it’s good enough for me. Whilst maxing out my credit card on amongst other things, a R399 scarf, I was also made aware of the competition running on the Woolies Facebook Fan Page.

Basically, you just upload a pic of you wearing your favourite Woolies item, and you can win a R500 clothing voucher. I know, just for uploading a picture.

I couldn’t find a pretty photo of myself, so sent through one of Some Other Guy instead, wearing an apple green long sleeved top from Woolies, and showing off his abnormally long thumbs again.

Some Other Guy: Showing off his abnormally long thumbs again.

To stand a chance to win, just go to http://www.facebook.com/WoolworthsSA, become a Fan, and then upload a pic of yourself in Woolies attire on their Wall.

Boom. Just like that. Okay, chat later then. I’m nipping out for a while.

Oakes signing off.

A Midweek Rant

SABC3: Giving Shaun the middle finger.

Now, I don’t have DSTV (digital satellite television in South Africa), partly because I’m slightly poor, but mostly because I’m quite cheap. Thus, I have to put up with the likes of SABC and E-TV, the free terrestrial channels we have.

This wasn’t really an issue before, and I can actually remember a time when I didn’t really mind SABC 3. Sure, they may have had strange continuity presenters with ugly hands, but at least the shows were not complete rubbish. They were usually old shows from MNET that I hadn’t seen for a couple of years, and could watch nostalgically. Sometimes they even had shows that MNET managed to miss out on. As I said, pretty decent stuff, and enough to get by on during an otherwise dull Wednesday evening.

Which is why I was very disappointed this past Wednesday, to switch over to SABC 3 and find a rather patronizing show called “Cory in the House”, which is very obviously a kids show.

Click here if the video does not load

SABC 3, why do you insult your viewers’ intelligence by showing children’s sitcoms during prime time viewing? Do you think I will find this funny? If I was 10 maybe, and had problems stringing sentences together. But otherwise no, no I don’t find this entertaining at all.

And it’s not as if you can say that this is a time slot meant for kids either. You were showing “Two and a Half Men” there not too long ago, and that was pretty saucy for a kid to watch. Also, you show the décor and lifestyle show “Top Billing” at 19:30 on Thursdays, so that argument doesn’t hold any water.

The only explanation is that you somehow think that this is the type of show that South African adults would enjoy. Really?

Oh, and if that wasn’t enough, you go and throw in Everwood later that night as well.

Everwood!

The most depressing show in the history of mankind! Just what exactly is the point of Everwood? As far as I can tell, its’ about a doctor and his beard, and the various trials and tribulations he puts his kids through, because he left the city and moved them into the hell hole small town of Everwood.

Whenever I hear the theme song, I have the urge to hurl myself through the lounge window, falling four floors below, and probably breaking most of the bones in my body. That would be a more pleasant experience that having to sit through an entire episode of Everwood.

And yet, you keep putting it on the air? I swear this show comes on about four times a week, almost always when you are in the mood for some comedy, action or just something that will show off some boobs. But no, instead, I have to watch Ephraim bawl his eyes out as he finds out that the chick he was in love with who then skipped town years earlier, was actually pregnant with his child, and his dad knew all about it.

Damn you SABC 3, for putting me through this hell. It’s this sort of performance that makes me glad I don’t pay you any television license fees.

Oakes signing off.

Shaun Puts His Teaching Hat On

Fame: Ricky Martin shows how it is done.

I’ve been quite the social butterfly these last few weeks, and so in that spirit, Friday evening saw me shaking my bon-bon on the dance floor of a swanky night club in Camps Bay. I don’ t usually find myself on that side of Cape Town too often, firstly because these days I am more likely to enjoy a book rather than a bender; and secondly because it can be a bloody nightmare finding parking anywhere along the strip, what with all the Ferraris, Audis and minibus taxis hogging the streets.

Nevertheless, I eventually found a spot for my Lamborghini and, once I had successfully navigated the pavement filled with female vagrants with babies on their backs, looked forward to rubbing shoulders with the creme de la crème of Cape Town’s urban night life.

Cue a few minutes later, and there I was, in the middle of a packed dance floor, doing the Macarena. Now, as anyone who has actually seen me do the Macarena will tell you, it’s a very seductive and hypnotic dance move. I’m pretty sure that, were the whole world to somehow watch me perform this majestic shuffle, we would see an end to all wars, conflicts and domestic squabbles.

So it was no real surprise then, when I was soon approached by four females, who had slowly begun dancing around me, like a pride of lions gingerly circling round a beautiful wild stallion, who had inexplicably managed to find its way into the wild jungle that is the Kruger National Park, but who nevertheless feared no one.

“Excuse me,” said the leader, nervously approaching me, in a non-threatening manner. “Are you a normal person, or someone famous?”.

“Why, I am famous of course,” I replied, with all the confidence and charisma of a seasoned liar.

“Oh really?” she said excitedly, “what is it that you do?”

“Well, you may know me from my various underwear commercials I did in 2005. I was the official face of Polish underpants brand Slovski.” I struck out my crotch as I said this, subliminally highlighting my magnificent groin region, which I had further augmented with a strategically placed sock.

“Seriously? That is quite impressive.” she said, no doubt referring to both my modeling achievements, as well as my pronounced package.

“But that’s not all,” I continued, on a bit of a roll now. “You probably also recognize me from my short but pivotal role as the kid with the ice-cream, in the Michael Dudikoff classic, American Ninja 2, shot right here in Cape Town during the 80’s.”

“Mmm, I was only born in 1991,” she said, “but let me ask my friend, she is a big fan of ninja movies, especially ones starring Michael Dudikoff.” She then proceeded to do so and, after carefully scrutinizing me for a couple of minutes, her friend confirmed that it was in fact me.

This then lead to them following me around for approximately 25 more minutes, until they came to the realisation that there were likely to be people at this party more famous than a burnt out former underwear model, one who insisted on paying for his beer with R5 coins he kept in a separate pocket in his jeans, and who steadfastly refused to tip the barmen..

In fact, I later saw the leader sucking the face of a particularly unattractive man who claimed to be the brother of the American actor Johnny Depp, this despite the fact that I had heard him speaking in Afrikaans to his friend at the bar earlier that evening.

Which just goes to show, you can easily pull women in Camps Bay if you’re famous. Even if you just lie and say that you are.

Oakes signing off.

Uncapped ADSL To Assist In Building Vast Collection

No More Worrying About Caps.

So, if you’re a South African, and your residential address isn’t listed as “Under A Rock”, you would no doubt have heard about the announcement last week that we will now have access to affordable, cheap uncapped ADSL, with MWEB being the first local internet service provider to put their cocks on the table.

Whilst this is no great shakes in other parts of the world, it’s a pretty big thing here in South Africa, as we always tend to be several years behind our counterparts in the US and UK. (The Persian scarf, a fashion trend from about five years ago in other parts of the world, is still alive and kicking in the Republic.)

So what does having uncapped ADSL mean for you and me? Well, for one thing, it means no more stressing and fretting about viewing streaming pornography on a lonely Thursday evening, because even though you really want to see some silicon enhanced boobs, you’re worried about possibly using up your cap for the month, and its only the 15th. With uncapped ADSL, there are of course no limits, and you will now be able to download all the porn your heart desires.

Gamers and music lovers can now also throw their hands up in the air, and shake it around like they just don’t care. As an example, I have viewed the greatest song ever recorded, Chris Brown’s “I Can Transform Ya”, about 78 times since Saturday morning. On YouTube, in high definition.

Now if that’s not a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is.

I’m pretty sure there are hundreds of other reasons to get excited about this. The mere fact that its relatively cheap to have a fixed, unlimited access to the internet means that there should be a steady increase in the number of exclusively online ventures popping up.

Which, if you’re anything like me, and hate any sort of human interaction – besides sex of course – should of course fill you up with immense joy and happiness.

[Disclaimer: As a member of Quirk, I have been involved in the marketing of this product. So yes, whilst I am plugging it, it's more of a subtle one.]

Oakes signing off.

Am I Really That Unfit?

Walking: Something Shaun Is Quite Crap At.

So a few Sundays back I decided to call The Girlfriend’s bluff, and agreed to her offer of a brisk walk in the nearby forest. It was an instinctive action, after hearing her tell the other guests at the braai we were at, what an inactive, beer-soaked man I was becoming. I obviously disagreed with this sentiment wholeheartedly, and playfully tossed an empty beer can at her head to show my disapproval.

So, once she had made what was probably meant to be a symbolic gesture, I felt almost obliged to except it, if only to save face. By this point, I had vanquished about a half a chicken, three baby lambs, and approximately seven feet of sausage. Admittedly, I had also managed to consume a healthy amount of lagers by then, so my estimation of the food I had may have been a little off.

Nevertheless, I am fairly certain about one thing though. When it comes to walking, I am surprisingly useless.

This became apparent after about 5 minutes of trooping through Newlands. Sure, it wasn’t the coolest day, and Havaianas are not the preferred footwear for hikers, but there was a gentle breeze, and we were walking at a fairly leisurely pace. I was quite alarmed then, when I literally began melting after the first kilometre. I must have easily lost about five kilos in water retention, and that was after a mere ten minutes of strolling. People began pointing and staring, as I resembled someone who had just dived into a swimming pool with his clothes on, and was now walking in the street, soaking wet.

I couldn’t quite fathom this, and began resenting the fact that I gobbled down another lamb chop seconds before we embarked on the journey, as my stomach had now decided to partake in flip flops, after encountering the rather foreign concept of exercise so soon after digesting meat.

Besides that, my legs began tightening up, and eventually dug its heels in and refused to budge, like a sulky 12 year old who has been told that he isn’t going to the beach anymore as promised, but is instead going to visit horrible Auntie Ethel with the halitosis, as she is on her last and wants to see him one last time.

Somehow, we made it to the halfway spot, a fairly lush area, filled with trees, shrubbery, and various benches and open areas for picnicking. I think I recall a stream running through the area as well, but at this point I was just about to pass out through sheer exhaustion, and had begun hallucinating. I swear I saw Kevin Spacey having a quiet sarmie on one of the benches, but The Girlfriend assures me it was just a white vagrant smoking marijuana.

I remember closing my eyes tightly for a second, as an obese, delusional woman with the tiniest pair of cheeky shorts entered our line of sight. When I opened them again, I suddenly found myself lying half naked on the lounge floor at The HQ, with an assortment of smelling salts, cooling fans and bottles of mineral water aimed at my general direction.

There are two possible explanations for this debacle then; someone either spiked my bottle of water (my money is on the old grey-haired couple who trotted passed us early in the journey, they smelled of copper and wore grey shoes.) or I actually do have the athletic stamina of a dry piece of toast.

Suffice to say, my ego has been badly bruised and my reputation considerably sullied. I shall now stick to driving for a while. Less chance of me looking like a complete wally that way.

Oakes signing off.