Let’s not beat about the bush, here – my blogging days are over. While I see crazy, hilarious, depressing and interesting stuff all over the Internet and in my life everyday about which I would love to write and tell you, I just don’t seem to have the ability anymore. So before (I hope before?) I turn this blog into a festival of rubbish, I think it’s time to shut it down.
It’s been a marvellous five-and-a-bit years of sharing some of the contents of my head with you. Some remarkable things have happened to me, South Africa and the world during this time, and I have really loved being able to muse about them with you.
That you have taken the time to say ‘howzit’ and have allowed me to know your own opinions whether through your comments, your own blogs or in person, has been special and so very valuable and meaningful to me – thank you.
Please do keep in touch. Email me at email@example.com and I will give you the email address I use on a daily basis.
Thank you so much, it’s been grand!
In the past month, I’ve done some enjoyable stuff.
Saw Greg Homan’s stripped-down and hilarious ‘The Pirates of Penzance’. It’s starting at the State Theatre in Pretoria on 12 July, running till 6 August.
Took in ‘Bridesmaids’ this past weekend, which was very funny and very perceptive in terms of how it portrayed the ‘haves and have-nots’, i.e. the marrieds/soon-to-be marrieds and the those who are not. I greatly enjoyed how the complications were presented, and the wickedly hilarious scenes in which the bridesmaids tried on dresses, and when they were on the plane to Vegas.
Saw ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’, which was excellent. Tight performances by all and a kick-ass prop cross.
Ate and meandered around Art on Main one sunny Sunday morning. Always fun and interesting to be in a green little cultural spot in the heart of the CBD.
Finally, in an attempt to get back into reading fiction, I was advised to try the English version of Afrikaans thriller-writer, Deon Meyer’s ‘Thirteen Hours’. I’m 120 pages in, and I daresay I might actually succeed in finishing this novel.
The last few I’ve started – a fiction novel by my one of my favourite authors that focusses somewhat on incest; a ‘true-life’ account of the drug-taking by a New York Times journalist; a modern classic about a female murderer in the 19th century, and a collection of, sadly, quite unexciting short essays by one of my favourite South African authors – have just not managed to grab me, and I fear I am becoming unused to concentrating on reading for more than 10 minutes at a time, which is about the length of time it takes to read a long-form article on the interweb.
Perhaps this little ‘skiet, skop and donder’ will get me back to where I wanna be.
Bored of writing crap
Inspiration fails me now
Nothing more to say
Ha ha ha, this is one of the most pathetic stories I’ve read.
ZIMBABWE MAN CROWNED MR UGLY
A Zimbabwean man upstaged 15 others to win the Mr Ugly title at a weekend pageant, a local newspaper reported Monday. Thirty-year-old Austin Mbewe from the second city of Bulawayo won 1,200 South African rand ($174, 122 euros) and a blanket at the contest held Saturday in the border town of Beitbridge, the Herald newspaper said.
“I feel honoured by this victory,” the paper quoted him as saying after winning the title. “I have been a subject of ridicule from society since childhood and the world has seen that there is a beautiful side to my ugliness.” Organiser Lovemore Chonzi said: “Basically, the competition is meant for people to have fun and celebrate who they are, just like any other contest in the world.”
The competition, which is in its third year, has the blessing of the country’s arts council and the government tourism authority. The winner was chosen by a panel of female judges. Two runners-up won 600 rand and 500 rand respectively and a blanket each. A similar competition is being planned for the capital Harare on Monday. Source : Sapa-AFP
He won a blanket (and R1200)! Jesus, I’m surprised a durable brown paper bag wasn’t thrown in.
FIFA president, Sepp Blatter, has requested the help of former Johannesburg mayor, Amos Masondo, to accurately define the term ‘crisis’ and develop an alternate term for future foul-ups.
On the day on which Blatter was re-elected for a fourth term as president of football’s governing body, it was revealed by a source close to Masondo that the soccer honcho wanted to get together with the ex-mayor to put pay to the term ‘crisis’, once and for all.
This followed the Swiss codger’s denial that FIFA was in crisis, after allegations of bribery led to two senior members quitting, and many more executives under the spotlight for corruption.
“Crisis, what is a crisis?” Blatter told a news conference following an executive committee meeting.
In January this year, Masondo, too, struggled with the c-word. He referred to the fact that thousands of Johannesburg residents’ services were cut off, or that they received bills alleging that they’d run up electricity and rates’ bills amounting, literally, to millions of rand, merely as a ‘challenge’, vehemently denying that there was a crisis unfolding.
According to Demigod Mtshonga, a member of the Crisis Team for the Avoidance of the Term Crisis (CTATC), “Mr Blatter sent a telegram and a Tweet to Mr Masondo, asking to meet at the News Café in Fredman drive, Sandton, this weekend, when the FIFA boss’s schedule opens up a bit.”
Both nay-sayers have been spotted poring over the ‘C’ section of the Oxford English Dictionary in preparation for the meeting. Mtshonga divulged that a task-team of English language professors has also been established in order to suggest a variety of substitutes for the term crisis – a word, which has been banned both in ex-Gauteng mayoral circles, as well as throughout the football world.
The leaked suggestions thus far for a replacement term include “pickle”, “stew” and “fix”. “Right fucking balls-up” was repeatedly scratched off the list.
I currently am missing a premolar.
It cracked in half on Friday as a result of a piece of muesli, which is proof if it was needed, that muesli is awful stuff. I’m not talking about that syrupy, honey-coated sugar fest of nuts and oats that is awesome. No, I am referring to the low-G.I, not-a-grain-of-sugar-in-sight stuff that dieticians will tell you is OK to eat for breakfast. Anyway, a spoonful of the latter stuff cause my tooth to split open and start flapping, rather painfully, it must be said.
Off I went to my amazing dentist, who, coincidentally, sent me a text message the day before to announce that she was back in practice (perhaps the DBAWIW curse to dentists has been broken?), who promptly pulled the tooth, leaving me looking like a hobo when I smile (very broadly, admittedly).
Today I have to have an implant at a dental surgeon, which I’m looking forward to about as much as a Comrades Marathon finisher looks forward to another 10km run the day after the race.
Bah! Oh well, hopefully by December or January, depending on how quickly my dental benefits run out on my medical scheme plan, I shall have a fixed set of choppers. This year is dedicated to my teeth, ungrateful mo-fos that that are.
According to the newspaper sans editors, The New Age (ok, perhaps it has a few editors now, though that’s questionable), sports minister Fikile Mbalula collapsed during a Cabinet meeting yesterday. The alleged cause was ‘flu-like symptoms’, according to would-be Coloured-people disperser, Jimmy Manyi, government spokesperson, who added that Mbalula would be back at work today, a day after he fell down and evidently, his heart stopped.
However, SAPA claims The New Age reported that an anonymous government official at the meeting had this to say, which has got to be one of the funniest quotes I’ve read yet by a bureaucrat:
“They administered a CPR [sic] and used a defibrillator to ease his breathing before strapping him to a stretcher and wheeling him out to the hospital… “
They used a DEFIBRILLATOR to EASE his breathing?!?!
If by ‘ease his breathing’ they surely meant ‘start his failed heart’, well then, yes.
My guess is that someone who required “a CPR” and the use of a defibrillator is not all that predisposed to be back at work the next day, but let it not be said that Fikile Mbalula wastes the taxpayer’s rand.
- shave my head, just to see what it looked like
- buy a motorbike and drive it in Jo’burg traffic
- indulge in a massive drug binge
- just eat chocolate and drink Coke
- tell repulsive people that I find them repulsive
- buy an alpaca and keep it in my home
- take a cruise to the Arctic to see Aurora Borealis
- never wear shoes again
- have a symphony orchestra play The William Tell Overture, the 1412 Overture and Clair de Lune for me, repeatedly
- move to the sea
- kick the following people very hard in the knees: Julius Malema, leadership of the Freedom Front Plus, Jackson Mthembu, newsreader Ray White, Kesha, Donald Trump and the entire staff of Fox TV in the US.
I would not:
- bath/shower so frequently