Being
a cynical and slightly bitter individual, there
are many things which I've taken quite a disliking to over the years.
Barry Hilton immediately springs to mind - I never
quite "got" this so-called comedian, apparently unlike
many other South Africans (Can pulling funny faces, putting on bad
accents and using tired puns really be regarded as quality humour?)
Men who tuck their shirts into their jeans would be another one,
as this has now become fashionable, which doesn't suit me AT ALL,
as I have an overly large derriere.
And of course another pet hate would have to be the local
cabaret singer Danny K, because, well, it's Danny K.
These all pale in comparison however, to the contempt I have toward
charity donation volunteers; the troll-like women
you find at most shopping centres, angrily shaking their little
tins at you as you try and scurry passed them.
Not that I have anything against what they do - I find it quite
commendable that they're giving up their time on a Saturday, a Friday,
a Thursday, a Wednesday... in fact, that actually seems to be a
full time job for many of them. Okay, fair enough then, as I said,
VERY commendable - what I DON'T like about these middle-aged terrors
are the aggressive attitudes that many of them
seem to possess.
Whilst doing my weekly shop for truffles, strawberries and extra
large condoms, I invariably come within close vicinity to them,
as they tend to loiter around entrances and well populated areas
of your typical shopping centre. I normally pretend that they don't
exist and look over them, as one usually does when approached
by a particularly ugly or poor person.
Disturbingly, these people have now become quite brazen, and you
pretending that they're invisible isn't enough to deter them anymore.
They will now actually jump IN FRONT of you, causing you to make
an emergency stop with your Woolies trolley and
screech to a halt.
"Jesus Hernandez! What the F**K do you want?", you will
enquire angrily.
"Donations for Tygerberg Hospital," will be the defiant
reply.
"Do you see money growing on my back? F**k off, " you
reply curtly, ironically whilst pulling off the R200 notes which
bizarrely keeps popping up on the shoulder region of the blue
Fabiani shirt you're wearing.
Amazingly, they will then mumble under their breath, not audible
enough for you to hear what they're saying, but loud enough so that
you KNOW that they're talking shit about you.
Excuse me? Are you for real?
Who do you think you are, with your little copper tin? Do you think
you're saving the world? Are you going to solve the AIDS epidemic
and the plight of little retarded kids with all
the R2 coins you collect? Is little Festus going to stop drooling
on himself because of the R7,65 you collected today?
Seriously, there are literally thousands of you around Cape Town
at any given time. Maybe I donated some money the day before, to
the hunchback woman with the impressively bushy moustache, or to
the little guy with flippers for arms. Ever think
about that? Are you beginning to realise that you're not so special
now?
Please don't be snide and condescending next time I tell you to
f**k off. Maybe I've already made my charitable contribution for
the week.
Like
a maverick turd suddenly popping up to the surface
of the pool, this blog has been successfully, and to some, surprisingly,
nominated for the International Weblog Awards.
Voting closes on the 31 January so let's get those final ballots
cast, you bunch of slackers.
We've been nominated for best African Blog, along
with four other sites. I've had a look at them, they're okay, if
slightly tepid in nature, so your best best is definitely with me.
To vote, simple select the radio button, where the pic of my header
can be seen. It should look like this:
Shaun. Second From The Left.
You just click on the little button above my pic, and then enter
your email address, and then hit "Submit".
If this seems a little complicated, then you may be an idiot and
shoudn't be using the internet in the first place.
I'll still take your vote though as I never discriminate, some of
my best friends and family are idiots...
If you're reading this, some of my best friends and family, that
was just a little joke.
It
was a warm and balmy Sunday afternoon, and the Pick n Pay in Gardens
Centre had run out of the extra large condoms I
hold so dear to my heart.
"How could this be? Who else could be making use of these 3-foot
long sheaths?" I wondered aloud, but decided to leave it at
that - there was no use crying over spoilt milk.
I NEVER cry over spoilt milk - I cried over spoilt soup once, but
that's because I was REALLY looking forward to it, and was already
feeling quite emotional at the time, as I had just had my teeth
bleached.
Anyhoo, the purchases still needed to be made, and so I decided
to head off to the V & A Waterfront, which is situated at the
Waterfront, in Cape Town. Having popped into the Pick n Pay there
and got my stash, I headed back to the car and nervously inserted
my ticket into the machine, like a sweaty young virgin entering
his first vagina.
I had heard bad things about the Waterfront parking system,
and was slightly apprehensive that I would also be a victim. Lo
and behold, I got hit from behind with a heavy blunt object, as
the digital screen looked at me and said "Howzit".
R50 for a parking ticket?
That's like half a day's wage whilst working on the cotton fields.
And the parking bay in itself was kak. I parked in what smelt like
human wee. I even got down on the ground to confirm that it was
in fact, wee.
Heath Ledger In Happier Times. When He Wasn't
Dead
Another year, another dead actor.
Heath
Ledger died today after an apparent overdose on sleeping pills.
He had been complaining for a while that he couldn't sleep and,
with no sign of a suicide note, this could well turn out to be an
accidental tragedy.
This is quite sad, he was actually my favourite Australian 28 year
old actor, after starring in films such as A Knight's Tale,
Brothers Grimm and 10 Things I Hate About You.
He was also a keen sportsman and for a long time made extra money
on the side through his famous Jonny Wilkinson impersonation.
Heath Ledger. Doing His Famous Jonny Wilkinson
Impersonation.
God speed, Heath Ledger. You will certainly be missed.
One silver lining, at least he managed to finish filming The
Dark Knight before this tragedy. The film looks awesome and
would be a fitting tribute to a great up-and-coming actor.
Will Smith. And His Dog. And His Abnormally
Sized Foot.
I Am Legend is the latest Hollywood blockbuster
starring Will Smith, enabling Will Smith to save the world
again.
Will Smith CLEARLY loves saving the world, as he has done it no
less than eight times now:
1) Independence Day - Will Smith saves the world from aliens.
2) Men In Black - Will Smith saves the world from... aliens again.
3) Men In Black II - AGAIN with the aliens. F**k.
4) Wild Wild West - Will Smith saves the world from a giant robot
spider thingy.
5) Enemy Of The State - Will Smith saves the world from evil spies
and shit.
6) I, Robot - Will Smith saves the world from homicidal robots.
7) Hitch - Will Smith saves the world from unromantic men.
8) I Am Legend - Saving the world again.
This time around, Will plays a scientist, who miraculously survives
a disease (created by Emma Thompson) which has wiped out
the entire world. Except him of course.
Will spends most of the movie walking around with his lovable dog
Sam, until he makes a shocking discovery...
He is not alone.
It's your typical special effects-laden thrill ride, as Will desperately
tries to develop a cure that could potentially.. well, save the
world. Based on a graphic novel, and actually a remake of
an older film starring Charlton Heston, many people have
complained about the plot changes and the fact that it's received
the "Hollywood Treatment". The graphic novel, which had
a strong social statement, has made way for a more traditional good
versus evil story which does not explore the deeper messages which
the older movie tried to convey.
Nevertheless, it's an entertaining way of spending 90 minutes, although
there were certainly one or two hairy moments thrown
in. (There is one disturbing scene that will leave you feeling slightly
depressed, as if someone has taken your last Rolo. And then slept
with your wife.)
It's not a film for little kids, although annoyingly enough there
WERE some children at the cinema we attended. Although they soon
left in protest as I kept throwing them with popcorn and bits of
debris I found on the ground.
Which is a sad indictment on the state of the cinema, I should never
have been allowed to source so much debris, why was it so filthy?
Anyhoo, give it a watch, it's worth a night out out.
Cape Town Fish Market - Apparently A Sushi
Bar. Who Knew?
Whilst skipping along the mean streets of
the V & A Waterfront with The Girlfriend, we
decided to mozy over to the Cape Town Fish Market,
as we had the sudden urge to consume large amounts of sushi, as
one tends to when seeing a giant sign saying "Sushi Bar",
which is what CTFM proudly boasts.
Upon arriving at the so-called sushi bar however, we were presented
with this:
This Isn't Sushi? What The F**k Is This?
As you can imagine, we were QUITE ecstatic to discover that we
were being served chicken strips, as well as bits
of salad, which was CLEARY the reason why we had decided to dine
there.
The Girlfriend, being more confrontational than
I, found the manager on duty and royally shat on him, which certainly
wasn't pretty.
Once he cleaned himself up and changed his shirt, he explained that
the chicken dishes were due to a shortage of sushi,
as well as the staff changing shifts.
Not sure what this had to do with us, and why the sushi bar was
open in the first place then, but hey, that's what he told us.
The Girlfriend, not impressed with his answer, proceeded to kak
all over him again, which left him feeling rather sheepish
as he only had one change of shirt.
Hopefully a harsh lesson was learnt though - don't bother opening
the sushi bar if you're going to be serving chicken and salad dishes.
Don't pull a stunt like that again Cape Town Fish Market, or next
time it will be me taking a dump on your manager.
Take Note On This Monday Morning. This Is
VERY Important.
When you're alone and bored on a Sunday
afternoon, and you decide to... how shall we put this, give yourself
a bit of a "slap and tickle" - nothing
serious, just a little playful tug here and there... cough... remember
to wash up afterwards, especially when you haven't showered for
a couple of days and ESPECIALLY when you decide to eat chicken afterwards.
With your hands.
Are you getting what I'm saying?
Where Have Those Digits Been?
Well done.
Failure to wash up effectively can only lead to tears - tears you
will shed when you realise you have effectively just licked
your own balls.
Congratulations.
... Just so we're clear - I didn't do this. This is all hypothetical.
I'm just looking out for you.
White People In A State Of Shock. Fleeing
To Perth.
Grab Our Passports Honey, We;re Getting The
F**k Out Of Here.
I was browsing through the papers the other day, as one does whilst
lying sprawled on the Dark
Bovine leather couch, when I came across the news that we now
have a new Springbok rugby coach.
Peter De Villiers has been the man appointed to train the Springboks
(Proteas), which has lead to plenty of ill feeling and
nasty comments from some white - possibly racist - people, who regard
him with deep suspicion and distrust.
Well, he HAS won the World Cup with the Under 21 Springboks (Proteas)
so I wouldn't worry about his credentials as a coach.
What DOES bother my however is the fact that he sports a rather
dodgy moustache, and resembles the cartoon character
Yosemite Sam.
Separated At Birth?
Peter De Villiers
Yosemite Sam
Anyone else worried about the coach whipping out his six shooter
and busting a cap in Wynand Olivier's ass when
he misses another tackle?
Okay, maybe just me then.
Oh, by the way, BEFORE anyone writes in to point this out. I KNOW
that it's physically impossible that they could be separated at
birth, what with Yosemite Sam being a fictional cartoon
character and all, and thus doesn't really exist. I know
this, please don't feel the need to point it out to me.
You may think you're being smart, but you're just being an arsehole.
Besides bedtime and my mid-morning foot wash, Eskom load
shedding is my favourite time of the day, allowing me to
do a number of fun and entertaining things which I would otherwise
not have the time to do, such as writing in my journal or brushing
my teeth.
With the aid of my trusty photographer The Girlfriend, we can illustrate
some of the cool things I have done during the recent blackouts,
which may inspire you next time the power goes out.
1) Working Out - I have a home gym at The HQ. Here,
I am lifting a 200kg dumbbell with my left arm, whilst making a
lean smoked chicken sarmie with my free hand. Notice how the perspiration
sits on my huge muscles. I must have done a 1000 reps. That's how
strong I am.
2) Deep Thinking - I often use the time to sit
quietly and contemplate important matters, such as the state of
the Middle East, and the sheer pointlessness of South African singer
Danny K. The above photograph captures the moment where I have just
stumbled upon the true meaning of life, which is written in bold
print on that piece of parchment I'm holding. Now everyone will
know!
3) Catching Up With Friends - No, this picture
isn't Photoshopped. It really IS him. What's an A-list Hollywood
star doing rubbing shoulders with ME, you may ask? We were introduced
by mutual friends at Asoka one night and we got on pretty well,
so now he occasionally pops around for a Jameson or two. Or three.
I think he has a drinking problem, but we don't really talk about
it. And neither should you.
4) Taking Up A New Hobby - During the last power
cut I decided to take up ESP, as it seemed like an interesting subject
and I had some time to kill. Here, I showcase my ability to levitate
to the ceiling of The HQ, using only my mind. I can see you're impressed
but it's not something I will try and do too often, as it left me
with a helluva headache.
5) Making Love - Here, The Girlfriend and I demonstrate
how agile and flexible we both are as we contort our bodies in the
midst of unbridled passion. I know this is a little risque to be
showing, but I'm a little drunk as I write this. This little maneuver
we're doing is known as the "Pretzel", which is pretty
easy to figure out why.
Anyhoo, these are just some of the things you could be doing next
time the electricity switches off and you can't play on your Xbox
anymore. Feel free to write back with any other suggestions you
may have.
Although it's unlikely that I would bother reading it.
Send it anyway though, if it makes you feel better.
Congratulations to Cape-Town's-most-famous-coloured-guy-called-Barry,
Barry, who had a recent birthday soiree at FTV
this past Wednesday.
A bit of a legend in this country (as well as in Sweden interestingly
enough) Barry is of course best known for that famous cough
mixture advert from the 80's with the payoff line - "It's
because I'm a children".
Yes, I know what you're thinking - that was a white kid
in that advert.
Well, Barry was in the TV 2 version. You know,
the channel you never really watched because you didn't understand
what they were saying?
I believe he spoke Sotho. Or Tswana. One of the two.
Anyhoo, happy birthday Barry. I ... I ... I love you.
After doing my Sunday shopping for extra large condoms at Gardens
Centre in the city, I enjoy nothing more than parking off
somewhere and having a little nibble. This would usually mean grabbing
a table at the Food Company, on the 2nd floor next to Creme. Incidents
over the recent holiday season however, have lead me to re-evaluate
things.
Incident 1 - The Newspaper Debacle
The Girlfriend and I had ordered breakfast. I enquired from the
waitress whether I could get the Sunday Times, which is normally
kept aside for me, as I'm terribly important. "Someone is reading
it." she said whilst cowering - keeping her head bowed and
avoiding eye contact, for fear of being turned into a pillar of
salt - "but I can go and buy you one".
"What a lovely waitress," I thought, and made a mental
note to leave her a good tip, as well as a bottle of pure greatness,
something I exude whenever I exercise or do anything strenuous.
Minutes passed, and I began getting impatient, agitating over what
news and current events awaited me. Eventually I hurled a pork sausage
at her, temporarily blinding her but serving to grab her attention
and leading her to return to our table.
"Newspaper?" I enquired with an irritated tone, her one-eyed
expression beginning to annoy me as she now resembled a cyclops.
"Yes, I'm going to get it for you right now," she said,
seemingly forgetting that this promise had already been made.
Minutes passed again, our bill arrived, but alas, my f**king Sunday
Times didn't - the waitress shrugging and saying she forgot for
the second time. Don't bother offering then next time, if you have
no intention of getting it for me.
Bitch.
Incident 2 - The Vanishing Waitress
The Girlfriend and I arrived to have a quiet coffee, and talk about
how great my hands and feet were looking. Our waitress in question
took forever to give us our menus, then take our orders, and then
finally get our bill.
Towards the end we had to grab the attention of the manager, which
we achieved by constructing a crude loudspeaker out of the plastic
spoons and sugar sachets. Basically this waitress forgot we were
there, which really pissed me off because I certainly wasn't invisible.
Not on that day at least.
Incident 3 - The Self Service Episode
A few days after, The Girlfriend sat at a table after a few hours
of Christmas shopping. And sat. And sat. No one came to serve her,
and eventually she upped and left.
That's three instances of shoddy service over the
course of about ten days.
Seriously, the service at The Food Company leaves a lot to be desired.
Besides that, they also have a nasty tendency to play one song over
and over. And over.
The food there is pretty good but it's VERY annoying trying to enjoy
your poached egg whilst listening to Brian McKnight's "Back
At One" for the 13th time.
Not good enough guys, time to crack the whip with your staff.
During my heady days at Catholic Primary School,
I would regularly pump the rest of my peers with my rendition of
the perfect Genuflection,
and won countless bible study books, rosaries and bottled holy water
because of it.
The bible study books and rosaries would then be sold for cigarette
and Scope
magazine money, whilst the holy water would be used to burn
all the non-believers and pagans who attended other primary schools.
It's in this tradition then that I would like all of you to nominate
me for the Weblog
Awards, which awards weblogs all over the world. You can nominate
up to 3 different sites for about a dozen different categories.
The important ones to take note of are the following:
1) Best African Weblog
2) Most Humorous Weblog
3) Best Writing Of A Weblog
Besides MY site which should be nominated, special mentions can
also go to Splattermail,
2Oceansvibe,
as well as SLXS.
Okay, that's all I have to say on the matter. Go to the site by
clicking HERE.
The White Bear. About To Bite The White Child's Head Off.
Ever since the massive success of "The Lord Of The Rings",
movie studios have been turning any old fantasy novel into a "fillum",
hoping to cash in. Some have been pretty good, like "Narnia
(The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)" whilst others have
turned out to be rather mediocre.
The Golden Compass would fall under the latter.
It's based on a trilogy of novels by some British guy who's name
escapes me now. The book is called "His Dark Materials"
and it's apparently rather good.
This movie isn't though.
Starring Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig and a talking polar bear -
it's about a little girl who takes possession of a "golden
compass" which she will need to ultimately save the world.
The special effects are pretty good - how they
managed to teach that bear to speak and fight is beyond me - but
overall the story itself is pretty, well, kak.
From my understanding the film makers cut out many scenes and references
to the church, which plays a big part in the novel, and this is
clear in the movie as it just doesn't gel together nicely.
The Girlfriend and I both felt that it seemed as if a lot of heavy
editing took place. Many plot lines were left unanswered, and there
were many instances in the movie where I was left going, "Heh?".
All in all, we didn't enjoy it, and The Girlfriend earned a punch
in the baby maker for choosing such a shitty film.
She of course retorted with a sharp kick to MY baby maker, which
left me curled up in a ball, making the viewing of The Golden Compass
an unpleasant experience all around.
Seriously, you've been warned - if you enjoyed Lord Of The Rings,
and think you will enjoy this one, you are MISTAKEN. You will NOT
enjoy it, and may end up resenting your girlfriend for suggesting
it, which may ultimately earn you a sharp kick in the gonads.
Being a child of the 80's, I've never been a
big fan of the "mouse" and "clicking", having
cut my teeth with DOS. This
site shows how cool it could be if you didn't have to use the
mouse click.
Interesting...
... Huh? What was that? You don't think it's interesting? Well...
well, f**k you then.
Can't
really think of anything funny or humorous to say about this, although
I may think of something later. This is actually quite sad. Apparently
Britney
completely f**ked out when K-Fed came to fetch their kids (they
share them in terms of the custody agreement, like one would share
a smoothie or chocolate cake)
Predictably a whole pavlova ensued, police and
the firemen were called in, and eventually Brits was carried out
by a stretcher into an ambulance, where she was taken away. For
observation.
I can understand the police and medics on hand for these types of
situations, but I never get why firemen are always called into the
scene.
When I have domestic fights with The Girlfriend, and the police
and medics arrive to remove her foot from my ass,
the last thing on my mind would be lighting a fire or getting stuck
in a tree.
No, it's all about getting The Girlfriend's foot out my ass, as
she wears steel tipped boots and it leaves me walking
funny for days after.
Shame, I hope things pick up for her. You can watch the drama unfold
below:
The Indian Garden Gnome Explains Twitter
To Shaun.
Twitter - WTF Is This?
Twitter
is basically a cool messaging service, which allows you to send
short messages to friends, via computer or cellphone. Basically
you can send messages from a central control panel ie: http://twitter.com/YOURNAME/,
or from your cellphone, and have it displayed on your website or
blog, which I've done and which you can see on the left hand menu.
You can choose to have just YOUR messages displayed, or include
the interactions with friends. It's similar to the Facebook status
tool ie: "Shaun is... wondering who ate all the pies"
except this can be shared with everyone who are "Friends"
with you. You get Twitter Friends by inviting your mates via email,
or searching for existing buddies who already have Twitter accounts.
When a message is sent, your friends can either receive it on their
blog or site, or on their cellphone. My feeling is this may potentially
be quite intrusive and annoying, as you could get loads of annoying
messages such as "Fred is waiting in the bank queue".
I don't give a flying f**k Fred, but thanks anyway.
Where I DO see the potential in Twitter though, is from a marketing
and promotional point of view, as you now have a captive
and highly targeted.. well, target market. I'm just thinking in
terms of event co-ordination and competitions here, where you can
effectively manage a database of potential clientelle in a more
personal form of communication. As an example - think of some sort
of treasure hunt, where clues are sent via cellphone to a pre-approved
set of twenty-somethings, which need to be found throughout the
city before eventually leading to a massive party at an undisclosed
location.
I'm pretty sure this can be applied to other business models pretty
effectively as well, but I'm not thinking outside the box at the
moment, as I'm still playing around with it hesitantly, like a young
teen playing with his first pair of breasts.
The Indian Garden Gnome Explains Techie Stuff
To Shaun.
Mr Moodley is my Indian
garden gnome who lives at The HQ. Besides being an Indian and
a garden gnome, he also happens to be web strategist,
quite jacked up on techie and web stuff, and explains it to me as
one would explain things to a retarded child, or someone who has
been dropped on the head repeatedly.
Mr Moodley - An Indian, A Garden Gnome, And A Web Strategist.
He will thus be explaining many "geek stuff",
which can be found on this thing we call the "internet",
which I will then share with all of you, the way a Jedi Master dispenses
knowldge to his young padowin, before the apprentice gets power
hungry and moves to the Dark Side, leaving the Jedi Master to cut
his arms and legs off in a fiery battle.
So there lies a lesson in all of this. Don't cross me, or I will
be forced to cut your arms and legs off with my light sabre, and
cause you to sound like the black actor James Earl Jones.
Shaun Gets Goosebumps As Msholozi Sings Umshini
Wami
Jacob Zuma - Our Next Musical Icon?
Say what you want about Jacob Zuma, but the man
get's South Africans talking, which is great as we're normally shouting
angrily and throwing sharp stones at one another.
In a similar vein to the Manchester United Football team, Camps
Bay beach as well as the local singer Danny K - there is no middle
ground here - people either LOVE him, or they f**king HATE him.
Actually Danny K shouldn't be in that list, as I've yet to meet
anyone who actually likes his music, Kurt
Darren would eat him for breakfast, together with his streaky
bacon and poached eggs.
Back to Jacob Zuma though - sure, he MAY be slightlymorally
corrupt (allegedly), and yes, he MIGHT have said that he would beat
up any homosexuals whom he encounters on his travels.
Oh yes, he ALSO likes some young ass every now and then.
The fact remains though, the man has the voice of an angel.
Listen to him sing his latest single, "Umshini Wami"
and tell me it doesn't give you goosebumps?
Jesus Hernandez, what a set of lungs he has!
Tell you what, if he went up against that coloured chick
on Idols, (Jody?) he would have LITERALLY sent her back
to school, Msholozi would have outsold Heinz Winckler and become
the biggest pop icon in the country, and all the white people preparing
to depart for Perth or Vancouver would probably think twice.
We are presently giving the site a bit of a facelift, as well
as some penile and girth enlargement.
A Construction Worker. Doing Construction
Work.
It's a bit of a monster, so this requires quite a bit of work. As
I'm not known for my strong work ethic, this will
be done in baby steps, so if you find an "old" page whilst
browsing, don't fret - this will all be sorted out shortly.
It's Summer time, we're feeling
good, and we've eased smoothly into the new year, like a man
gliding into his well-lubricated lover.
As a youngster, the holidays would usually mean one thing in the
Favourite Son household - time for a traditional Spring
Clean.
"But mother," I would say with a puzzled expression, "surely
Spring has come and gone, like a cheap prostitute working the mean
streets of Wynberg?"
This would usually earn me a beating with a wooden spoon, as "prostitute"
was considered a naughty word.
Shaun - Beaten For Using Naughty Words.
With time, this period came to mean Spring Clean for me too, despite
the apparent logistical inaccuracy, and so I've taken the opportunity
to make a few cleanups and changes to the site.
Some of the things you may have noticed:
Cape Town Accommodation
section - As Cape Town's Favourite Son, I owe it
to you to highlight some Cape Town accommodation establishments,
because quite frankly it's in everyone's best interests to spend
some time here.
Cape Town Adventures
section - Some of the most outrageous and awesome adventures
ever encountered in and around the nightclubs of this beloved city.
Cape Town Dating
section - Some tips and other shit to help you on the dating scene.
Booya! Who's ready for a good year? I know EYE am.
Subscribe To The Blog
