Random Photos Over Here

Today it seemed as if the sun said “F**k you, Winter, even though it’s meant to be your gig right now, I’m just going to shine and be warm today, and you can’t do anything about it, because I am the SUN.”

And to a large extent it did just that.

To take advantage of this, I decided to climb out from under The Girlfriend, grab my camera, go out onto the streets of Cape Town, and take random photographs of small women with large feet.

Unfortunately, there seemed to be a shortage of small women with large feet hanging around Cape Town today. I then decided to change tact, and take photographs of large women with small feet. Luck wasn’t on my side though, as the only large woman I found (who had the tiniest little feet, like stilts, I was convinced she falls over every few steps she takes) well, she seemed quite uncomfortable with me taking landscape and portrait shots of her as she slammed a flapjack in her mouth. So much so, that her boyfriend made me remove the photos I took of her, which I thought was completely uncalled for and which I then assumed would completely ruin my day.

As luck would then have it though, I stumbled across an albino squirrel in the patch of field next to the backpackers (the one in Gardens with the swimming pool, where the hot foreigners sunbathe in the Summer). Albino squirrels are quite rare, apparently there are only 3 albino squirrels in the whole of Africa, so I took a few pics.

He looks just like a rat, except he has a bushy tail, which makes him instantly more likeable.

You can just about make it out here, but he started giving himself a BJ, as squirrels are apparently known to do when strangers approach them with cameras.

Chilling in the sun, although he doesn't seem to like it much, as I am guessing he is quite sensitive to bright light, being an albino and all.

Hanging out with his brown cousin, who seemed resentful because he was just a regular squirrel, and his cousin was kind of special and had someone taking photographs of him.

Apparently it’s quite famous and regularly makes appearances in Gardens, so keep your eye out for it. And don’t try and kill it, like the one guy who saw it and threw a stone at it because “it was looking at me funny”. Yes, it has red eyes and looks a little evil, but everyone knows that a squirrel has a heart of gold. It’s rats that you should be afraid of.

Oakes signing off.

It Sounds Ridiculous But Read Below and See For Yourself.

Lionel Messi. Handy enough player, but he has never played 5 a side football at the Waterfront in Cape Town.

My head is swollen, my ribs are bruised, I have carpet burns on my knees, and I’m currently limping. Usually this occurs whenever I talk back to The Girlfriend, or put too much sugar in her rooibos tea. In this instance however, it’s due to me playing 5-a-side football at the V&A Waterfront. We joined a corporate league a while back, and play against other companies. We usually rock up without practice, relying on our natural talent – which is minimal – and physical brutality – which we have a reasonable amount of, and the end result is we generally lose more than we win.

I was playing this evening (last night if you’re reading this tomorrow. Which would be today) and realised that there are plenty of similarities between football tactics and sex tips. So much so, that I decided to share with you 7 football tips we try and follow, which can just as easily be applied to someone looking for advice on sexual relations and the act of heavy petting. Read on and see. I think this is called a “juxtaposition”. Even if it’s not, I still managed to get the word “juxtaposition” in a blog post. Twice. Which makes me a winner. Anyhoo, here goes:

1. Always Be Prepared and Use Suitable Protection. It’s really rough out there and you can never be too careful. Sure, your adversary might look friendly enough, and will give you a big smile and a wave before the action begins, but don’t let that lull you into a false sense of security. “I don’t need any protection, this seems legit,” you tell yourself, but once the action is over, and the result has been confirmed, you are left in shock, and will probably require ongoing medical attention if you’re not careful.
2. Study Your Opposition. To maximise your chances of scoring, you need to do your homework and get a thorough understanding of your opponents. Learn about their likes, their dislikes, the best areas to put your balls, and the strongest positions to initiate a potentially winning maneuver.
3. Warm Ups Are Essential. You can’t just expect to rock up 5 minutes late, strip off your work clothes and start scoring immediately do you? No, you need to do a little bit of stretching first, followed by some light ball work to warm things up and get everyone excited and in the mood for what’s to come.
4. Always Have A Plan B. Just because you’re used to doing things a certain way, doesn’t mean it’s always going to work. You may have scored straight away with it last week, but that particular move you perfected won’t necessarily work for you this week, so always be prepared to shake things up and try something new. A varied approach to your build up play can make all the difference and help you get the result you deserve.
5. You Can’t Play By Yourself. Well, in theory you can, but it’s nowhere near as fun as when you include others. Remember, this is a team game, and the feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction you get when you have a good understanding and play off one another can well be described as “orgasmic”. One or two touches on the ball is important to give everyone a feeling of involvement, and always be aware of a teammate’s best position so you can get the most out of them.
6. Be Aware Of The Rules And Follow Them. The game works best and is enjoyed by everyone when the rules are obeyed and boundaries are adhered to. Sure, there are a few grey areas here and there, and one or two rules may be bent on occasion, but it’s best to keep things clean, or risk being given your marching orders for crossing the line.
7. Always Shake Hands At The End Of the Game. Remember, it’s just a fun, healthy and sweaty past time at the end of the day. So, no matter what might have happened in the minutes preceding the final whistle, always be prepared to shake hands, swap shirts and leave on good terms.

That is all.

Oakes signing off.

Check us out at Fives Futbol. After a flying start we are currently third(ish) and dropping like a stone.

Without you being creepy. Them noticing you because you are creepy doesn’t count.

Get noticed by a woman who looks like this. She will have clothes on though.

I was walking through the V&A Waterfront the other day, when I realised that a number of reasonably attractive women were looking at me with great longing in their eyes.

This intrigued me somewhat, as I certainly wasn’t looking my best. In fact, I was having a pretty shitty hair day, hadn’t showered for 36 hours, and I had a pimple on my face so large, it actually had a name (Cedric), its own personality independent to my own, and was even hoping on going out on a date with someone that night – albeit on the slim chance that it would meet a Cape Town woman open-minded enough to go out on a date with a large pimple attached to a slender, wiry man who was having a pretty shitty hair day and who hadn’t showered for 36 hours.

So not only was the pimple so large it had its own name and its own personality independent to my own, it was also blessed with the gift of eternal optimism.

Anyway, so there I was, wondering if women suddenly found me irresistible, or whether I was just walking around with my “junk” out again – as I mistakenly did twice back in 2007 – when I remembered that I was carrying a large pack of nappies. (Long story, but they weren’t really mine)

Women were obviously under the impression that I was a father, and I could literally see them mentally going “Awwww”, the way you do when a puppy or kitten comes to snuggle up against you whilst you are sitting near the fireplace, desperately trying to read Shantaram, because EVERYONE says it’s a great book, but you are finding it utterly, utterly boring and so are easily distracted by reasonably cute house pets.

So yeah, if you are the type of guy who looks to pick up women at busy shopping malls, get yourself a large pack of disposable nappies (they are about R80) and just walk around in the line of sight of young, slightly broody women. If it works for you, and you somehow end up getting to rub yourself up against their thighs, please let me know, so that I may live my life vicariously through you.

Oakes signing off.

Worse Than People Who Blow Their Nose In Their Hands, Which I Also Strongly Despise.

Rihanna... one of the reasons why Shaun despises music radio? Read on to find out.

It’s very seldom that I listen to music radio stations these days, do you?
I get way more satisfaction and enjoyment listening to myself singing classic ballads from the 80’s and 90’s. I do a rendition of The Backstreet Boys “All I Have to Give” that will literally make you soil yourself at the sheer magnificence of it all.

Seriously, if you are ever in my company and it seems that there is even a SLIGHT chance I may belt it out, make sure you’re wearing brown pants, or tear off your ears. Because you WILL end up shitting yourself.

And let’s be honest, it’s far more respectable to go through the rest of your life without ears than being the person who poo’d in their white linen pants in front of everyone after listening to Shaun Oakes’ rendition of the Backstreet Boys’ “All I Have To Give”.

On the odd occasion I listen to a music radio station, I find that I have become severely allergic to our DJ’s and their inane ramblings on air. I was staring at the wall in my lounge yesterday, and realised that there are 3 key things I currently despise about music radio stations.

1) DJs stating the obvious or speaking just for the sake of it (eg: “Hey, so it’s so windy in Cape Town right now, I just wish it wasn’t so windy you know what I’m saying? Ha ha ha!”)

Firstly, as you’re a regional radio station, there is a 99% chance that the people listening to you are sitting in Cape Town right now. So yes, thank you for telling us what we already know. It IS very windy, well done. More disturbingly though, what’s with that little laugh at the end there? Was there a joke that I missed somewhere? Is this actually very clever, deep humour that has completely gone over my head? Or is this just another example of your pseudo-American drawl you picked up somewhere and you’re just a knob? Please do tell.

2) DJs who think they are the only ones with access to the internet. (eg: “So Kim Kardashian has been spotted making out with Kanye West, and er… you know, things are getting crazy between them right now.”)

Guess what DJ, we also have access to TMZ, Perez Hilton and Twitter. Most of the time your news is pretty old, and is in that week’s issue of the YOU magazine anyway. So you telling us about a celebrity is just a waste of time. Rather be quiet and put on another song.

3) DJs who play Rihanna over and over and over again. And again. And again. And again.

It doesn’t matter what station I listen to. It’s always Rihanna. She must have about 17,000 songs out on radio right now. And they play every single one. Five times a day.

Am I alone here? What can they do on music radio to be less annoying? Hit me up with your comments. (See what I did there? I’m trying to initiate “conversation”.)

Oakes signing off.

Because We All Have Way Too Many Randoms We Befriend.

You have a photo of your pet as your Facebook Profile Pic? Yeah... I am just going to go ahead and unfriend you now, thanks.

At last count, I had just over 500 friends on Facebook, which is pretty remarkable, when you consider the fact that I am incredibly anti-social, and would choose rupturing my Achilles tendon over having dinner with 15 other people.

Now, rupturing your Achilles tendon is a pretty painful experience, but I would choose it. Every time. Well, probably 9 times out of 10.

I would choose the dinner on the 10th occasion just to add a bit of variety. Because the only thing I hate more than socialising with other people, is doing the same thing over and over again.

So the 10th time, yeah, it would be dinner with 15 other people. But I wouldn’t enjoy it.

Anyhoo, besides a few close friends, work colleagues, the odd family member and a selection of nemeses (which is the plural of nemesis) the majority of my Facebook friends seem to be a bunch of randoms I don’t know very well.

Besides you obviously, you are clearly the exception. But everyone else is random.

Every quarter, I do a bit of spring cleaning, removing people I have no intention of socialising with in the near future. This usually involves me clicking on the Friends page on Facebook, and then randomly choosing people with offensive Profile Photos. People with their newborn babies or kids saved as their Profile Pics are usually the first to go, as that is the most offensive. Then it’s people who have images of “clever ”random messages like “I Facebooked Your Mom”. Then it’s people who save photos of other people (usually ugly or severely unattractive people) as their Profile Pics.

Something that is ideal for this quarterly Friend culling exercise is this game on the Hunter’s Facebook Page, which randomly displays pics of your Facebook friends, giving you six seconds to guess who it is. Not only is it quite fun and addictive, but it’s also a great way for me to clean up my Friend List.

Don’t recognise this guy? Boom, I’ve just unfriended you.

Does anyone else think of that hip hop song by Eve when you see the title of this game?

And if you’re really good and you know your friends and you somehow rack up a lot of points, you can score a bar fridge as a prize.

The Belgians call this “a Win Win Situation” in Belgian. Which in English, loosely translates to “a Win Win Situation”. Which is exactly the same thing.

Makes you think.

Huh? Don’t get that? Me neither. Just think about it.

Oakes signing off

#FirstWorldProblems.

Not remembering shit.

Look, let me start off by saying that I realise that vagrants and the homeless have been dealt a shitty hand in life, I really do. I can’t even begin to imagine the hardships they must face on a daily basis, all in an effort to simply survive.

Having said that, I just… I just wish they would pay a little more attention to the people who give them money, that’s all.

I regularly hand out a R5 and a kind word to a couple of homeless guys around the Gardens area. On the one or two occasions I don’t have spare change though, I am treated as if I have slept with their mothers, girlfriends and sisters and given them all STDs.

Just the other day, I gave a guy some change at the traffic lights. As I drove off I realised I went the wrong way and so had to double back, ending up at the same pair of traffic lights. The same guy from 2 minutes earlier came up to me and asked me for change, and when I shook my head in puzzlement, he shook his head right back at me. Kind of like a disappointed father who has just received a mediocre school report from his kid.

It made me feel really shitty and I nearly jumped out of my car to explain to him that I had actually given him some change not 5 minutes earlier.

But then the traffic lights changed, and so obviously I had to go.

But yeah, vagrants with bad memories hey.

Not ideal.

Oakes signing off.

Stop It. Stop It. Stop It Right Now.

The 80s. Slowly Being Stalked and Murdered by the Hippo.

I am quite fond of songs from the 80’s. In fact, fond is a severe understatement.

If the 80’s were a woman, I would very likely be trying to feel her up outside her car, after plying her with alcohol earlier in the evening and getting her to talk to me about sex. (this is a seduction technique called “Anchoring” – I read about this in an email I received the other day which also told me I needed penile enlargement)

I’m a huge fan of 80’s pop songs which is why the Hippo insurance adverts really anger me. Hippo is a company that gets you multiple quotes on insurance, which sounds like a pretty useful service, right? Sure, I would probably think it’s great too, were it not for the fact that they INSIST on butchering popular songs from the 80’s in their adverts.

They basically take the tune and chorus and add in their own shitty lyrics about insurance quotes. They started out by brutally maiming “We Built This City on Rock ‘n Roll” by 80’s super group Starship, and now they’ve done it again by bludgeoning “You Spin Me ‘Round” by Dead or Alive. See below.

Now as you know, things very seldom anger me, I’m generally described as quite a chilled out, laid back, slightly effeminate young man. Having said that, I’m convinced that if I were to bump into the Hippo from Hippo Insurance in the street, there is a fair to mild chance that I will end up inserting my foot firmly and authoratively up its bum hole.

I swear if they decide to mess with “Jump” by Van Halen I will completely lose my shit.

I don’t need the Hippo. Especially if he is going to kill my 80s vibe. Seriously, let’s stop doing that now.

Oakes signing off.

Ever.

If you see this book, drop what you are doing and RUN.

I don’t read books. As a rule, the only books I read are the my own collection of short stories and narrative poetry (they are unpublished because it’s so good, your brain would literally explode when you read them, and I would then be charged with murder)

When people ask me what’s the last book I read, or what my favourite book is, I usually have a couple of stock answers. If I’m in the company of hard-core, Woolworth’s and E-TV hating Christians, then my favourite book is obviously the King James Bible.

For everyone else, it’s “American Psycho” by Bret Easton Ellis (I read this book once when I was 4 years old, but I often throw this name out because it makes me sound cool and edgy)

Having said all that, the other day I was reluctantly talked into reading what was described to me as “the most amazing book you will read this year” by both family members and friends. This immediately unsettled me, as I am seldom amazed, especially by a book.

I went ahead and started reading it though, as The Girlfriend had packed away my own volumes of prose, and I needed something to entertain and amuse me. So I began “Shantaram” by the author Gregory David Roberts. It’s about an Australian bank robber and drug addict who escapes from an Australian prison and heads off to India.

It’s portrayed as a vivid, epic adventure but I can honestly say it’s the most boring, dragged out story I have ever read. I have often made ballsy statement like “I would rather stab myself than do xyz” but after spending time with this book, the kitchen carving knife really did start looking pretty appealing. The book itself is about 2000 pages long, and weighs about 15kg, so it’s a lengthy read. I gave it my best shot and got to about 400 pages before giving up. You would think by this point, I would be fairly far into the plot, but no, I still don’t really know where the story is going. The author has an annoying habit of describing everything to the last detail, and writes out long conversations between characters as they talk about philosophical psycho babble that doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the story.

I don’t often write about books, and this isn’t a book review, but I just thought I’d warn you about this, as Shantaram seems to be quite popular for some reason and is being passed around various groups of friends like a 19 year old chick who’s had to much Jagermeister. (I call it the “Emporer’s New Clothes Effect” – everyone is to afraid to speak up and say what a shit book it is)

There are a few people who seem to agree with me though, here with a couple of random Amazon Reviews I found:

So if you are someone who happens to read, and someone mentions this book to you, punch them in the face.

Tell them it was from me.

Oakes signing off.