Lays Down The Law, And Cops A Feel

DC Fearing The Wrath Of God.

Following last week’s religious experience, it was the turn of DC to be touched by His Grace, as a giant hand appeared out of nowhere on Sunday and began smacking him upside the head, apparently due to DC’s recent romantic shenanigans (Ooh, was that a personal in-joke? Indeed I think it was)

Nadine on the other hand, who was also in attendance, received a gentle and reassuring pat on the head, although she did claim the Giant Hand brushed her boob just before it disappeared.

Nadine: Pretty Chilled.

Holy Shit. I’m tired now. More updates later.

We Are Pleasantly Surprised

Let's All Give Them A Hand.

As everyone knows, Tuesday is Movie Night, and the other night The Girlfriend and I went to catch Little Miss Sunshine. This film has been receiving rave reviews from critics everywhere and so understandably I was a little hesitant to go and see it, as my movie tastes tend to go against popular critical convention. (To this day I am still pissed that Van Wilder never received the Oscar nomination I felt the movie rightly deserved)

Although my favoured brand of comedy tends to fall under the lowbrow toilet humour variety, I found this film incredibly funny. The jokes are not thrown in your face, and a lot of it derives from the awkward human interaction between an excellent cast. This includes Greg Kinnear, as an unintentionally cruel yet loving father determined not be tainted with the unwanted brush of “loser”. Steve Carell also gives a stellar performance as an incredibly sarcastic gay uncle, who can’t be left alone because of a recently developed habit of trying to kill himself.

The movie revolves around a dysfunctional family, of which Kinnear is the patriarch, who must travel 600 miles to a child beauty pageant for the sake of the little girl in the family, a chubby little 8 year old whose name escapes me now. (and I don’t feel like looking it up on IMDB.com – oh wait, her name is Abigail Breslin)

It’s essentially a road trip movie, where the family – who initially hate one another – bands and bonds together during the long and arduous trip, resulting in a hilarious and entertaining final segment which literally had me choking on my popcorn. All in all, a very entertaining little film. Go in without any preconceived ideas and you will leave the cinema with a smile on your face, unless you actually intended on watching Rocky Balboa, and ended up in the wrong theatre, then you wouldn’t be too happy I guess.

When Is Shaun Going To Start Training?

Shaun: Can He Win 10 Cases Of Beer?

Had a sleepless night the other day (night) as I thought of my impending challenge with The Gupster. I forgot to mention this last time, but we’ve bet a cool hand (grand) on the race, which works out to about 10 cases of beer, so I’ve got a vested interest in this now, as everyone knows I have a huge crush on beer, but I’m too shy to do anything about it.

As can be seen from the photo above, I’m in my prime right now and should be able to walk it. My adversary though, is like a well-oiled machine.

The Gupster: A Well-Oiled Machine

Under that tailor-made suit, lies a ripped torso and well-chiseled muscles, making up what could best be described as a God-like physique. (From Greek mythology. Not Buddhist mythology)

Oh dear. Time to hit the treadmill.

Size Of A Small Child

Dangerous D, And His New Friend.

Received this the other day from “Dangerous” Dale Fourie who, when not raping the opposition on the motor race track (or getting stomped on by His Holiness), can often be found indulging in his favourite past time – despatching Long Island Ice Teas. (“Teas?”. Is that the correct plural for tea?)

During a recent journey to Johannesburg, he took a wrong turn and obviously then ended up in Rondebosch, where he stumbled across a Starlight Diner, much like the one you find in Durbanville, except you don’t need your passport to get there, and you don’t need to possess a “snor” (moustache) to be served at the bar.

Apparently they also serve the best and biggest Long Island’s in all the land.(see photo) “Dangerous” Dale was so taken with his that he proposed and got engaged to it, and they’re now thinking of starting a family together.

As We Provide Conclusive Proof On The Sabbath

God Proves That He DOES In Fact, Wear Adidas.

This being a Sunday, I thought I’d put up a religiously themed post. Or article. Whatever you want to call this. The other day “Dangerous D” used the Lord’s name in vain.

Almost immediately, the heavens opened, angels could be heard singing, and a massive Adidas-clad foot came down from above, ripping a huge hole through the ceiling and giving “Dangerous” Dale an almighty stomping. Then almost as quickly as a Danny K sighting, it was gone.

Amazing.

The 2007 Poker Championships

Let The Games Begin

Being fairly hip, trendy and “with it” – myself and my fellow cronies are avid Poker players. I’m not entirely sure of the rules, but I hide it well, no one else seems to notice and I tend to win anyway, because I have the rare genetic code polyacrylamide 24Z, a gene inherrent in born winners like Lance Armstrong, Richard Branson and Ricky Martin.

A few weeks back we had our annual tournament at The Players Lounge, co-owned by The Gupster, and true to form – Shaun reigned supreme. I was so brilliant I took photographs, filled in my tax returns and worked on my novel while playing, thus further proving my superiority. I won’t show you the tax returns or my progress on the novel, but some of the photographs can be seen below.

Bazza The Barry looking pensive. Look at all his chips. They would soon be mine.

The Gupster looking disheartened. Look at all his chips. They would soon be mine.

Some Other Guy looking annoyed. Look at all his chips. They would soon be mine.

Some Other Guy looks on as Bazza The Barry and The Gupster get all touchy feely.

And so it ended, and I won, taking my unbeaten streak to about 48 matches now. Better luck next time guys. I may sit out the next few matches to let you build your confidence up again.

Have We Bitten Off More Than We Can Chew?

Shaun: Preparing For His Greatest Challenge Yet.

Showing a severe lack of judgement, and an embarrasingly low tolerance to beer, I’ve somehow been talked into running the Two Oceans marathon this year. I’ll be competing against The Gupster, a certified human battery, who regularly jogs up to Johannesburg when he’s feeling bored.

Irresponsibly, I don’t plan on training at all, and will rely on my long dormant fitness genes and my ability to cheat undetected. I’m probably going to Tiger Tiger the night before, and may end up running the marathon in my Saturday’s finest. If all these old wrinklies can run it surely I can too, right? Right?

Magicians Taking Themselves Too Seriously

Alfred Chats To Wolverine, As Scarlett Looks On.

As everyone knows, Tuesday is Movie Night, and the other night The Girlfriend and I went to catch The Prestige. I had read a lot of good press about this, I had enjoyed director Christopher Nolan’s previous film, Memento. I also like Batman and Wolverine, and I’ve got a soft spot for Michael Caine, who is like the eccentric old British neighbour everyone wishes they had.

The film is interesting in that it shows you another side of the magician’s world, behind the curtain. I always thought of magicians as lovable old people who smelt of copper and cabbage. This film shows that there is more to the Magnificent Marvin and his friends than meets the eye.

The plot centres around Batman (Christian Bale) and Wolverine (Hugh Jackman), two feuding magicians who spend years, well, feuding. The film held my attention and there was a tense build up to the finale but the ending left me feeling a little flat. I kind of picked up on the big twist halfway through and was left a little disappointed that there was no surprise waiting for me. Sigh, I guess that’s what happens when you’re really smart and intellectual like I are smart and intellectual.

I would compare this film to a McDonalds quarter pounder (with cheese). You will probably enjoy it, but at the end you will still feel hungry. Or maybe I’m just a pig.