Friday, September 30, 2011
Anyway, we edge ever closer to the redemption known as weekend. I'll be starting off proceedings by dragging my very uncooperative ass along to the Biscuit Mall to partake in some of the vast variety of beer available at the We Love Real Beer thingy. They had better have some Napier Bier on tap. Nothing like broadening your tastes and/or horizons.
According to my HellCuzz it's FrashMerrilsFriday, so in keeping it real in the familia, let's see what Saint Anger has to say about that: FrashMerrils-Quote-Of-The-Day Enjoy!
Speaking of Saints and their effect on our lives, Saint Smith would like to add the following:
Book 14 : Chapter 2 : Verse 24
So go Bokke!
So go on with your bad selves.
So go irreverent and fuck.shit.up!
Have an awesome weekend.
NGDG: "An entire cover feature article in the Men's Health on how to build a particular celebrity physique. Nary a mention of the syrettes of Dianabol he's been jabbing into his arse since he was 13. Not even in acrostic. But if you'll eat chicken breasts and brown rice 6 times a day, you'll swallow anything.
And thus concludes our interaction for another week, dear gentle reader. Til Monday then, when things will hopefully be a damn sight better...
Spread The Love. Yo Ho Ho and Some Sailor Jerry!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
It's a beautiful day in the Mother City.
The Boks look like they are doing ok.
It's so close to the weekend I can taste it. (Although that could be the roast beef from last night.)
Then why is it I am surrounded by tension and spite and general ill feelings? Apparently it's that time of year, when just about everyone is going mental and losing the plot... Or is it just me?
Irreverence is a beautiful thing. So perhaps I should just give in and join the swelling ranks of malcontents that seem to be taking over at the alarming rate of a zombie apocalypse. Or maybe not.
Fuck all you moaning, whinging, mouth-breathing bastards.
Fuck me for letting you get to me.
Spread The Love. On Your End Of The World Salti-Crax.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
So today the "guess the song by the ludicrously easy Cure related clues" is going to be done slightly differently. Go find the Bloodhound Gang CD "Hooray For Boobies" and listen to the first song. Or read the lyrics. Something a little more-or-less humorous for you today...
THIS is exactly where the intrawebnets died yesterday. Telkom went to great lengths to ensure me that they were "working on" the problem, even "escalating" it. Euphemisms for mass masturbation. So feeling largely uninspired, I submit to you today and yesterday's smattering of smut, this here wee post.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I took infinite delight in typing it.
NGDG: "The only thing more off putting than a bald woman with 12 toes is one who pronounces 'yes, as well' = yaw, aaaazwil."
So, business as usual tonight then. Ripping through the set and recording lead guitar over 'Patrick Swayze'. Whoohoo!
Spread The Love. Even If You Have To Do So Among Hippies. It Still Counts I Suppose.
Monday, September 26, 2011
One for the record books, folk. Not one single person at an 'industrial music' gathering with those wonderfully colourful and exotic 'hairfalls' festooned all over their crania.
Other things missing:
- Specific people who confirmed in the affirmative that they would be in attendance. Why bother if you're not going to be there?
- Scott's gigging cherry. Bravo, sir!
- Projectile panties. Diss-A-Motherfucking-Pointed!
- Mine and a few other peoples' names. If found, please return to owners. It's pretty simple. they're our names...
Saturday was a loooong day. I'll spare you all the technical details of what goes into the preparation of a gig, but I will point out that there is an inordinate amount of "hurry up and wait".
So we arranged a braai. As you do. On National Braai Day. Or in our case, "What An Enormous Sausage - National Braam Day". Yes, it was TDB's birthday. We braaied. Can't really embellish on that too much. There was meat, beer and babies.
Fast forward to where I once more bestride the stage, deep into the late hours of Saturday night (in my spiffy, shiny pants - thanks to Wolf Clothing). Pretty terrified for a moment there. Then I remembered where I'd left my beer and I was ok again.
The show went by in a blur of hair, bouncing souls and swirling stabbing lights. The packed dancefloor in front of me was, well, packed. And people were going fucking mental! Looking over to my left I could see the f(r)iends that compromise the miraculous Axxon stomping and snarling along and having a great time, zoned in - delivering one of the most enjoyable shows I've had the privilege of playing. Even TDB made a cameo appearance. Happy birthday, you old fart! Onwards and upwards, I say!
Thanks to Reanimator, the beautiful and talented Yvette, Mercury Live, Wolf Clothing, Lux, Ian from Hellfire, Kevin on lighting, the kind folk at Paul Bothners, the crew and especially everyone that came out to enjoy this spectacular evening with us.
Cue mass relief and a burning desire to put all alcohol in immediate vicinity in my face, the rest of the evening picked up speed rather rapidly. The Dean of Univer City was, as usual, especially helpful in this regard. Tarty Farty Tequila Party (in a Cleopatra wig no less) was also on hand to apply some "oomph" to the proceedings.
Yesterday was expectedly less pleasant. I only made it out of bed because the bedroom TV is on the fritz. So we spent the day on the couch. More than that, I could not muster. I may have dozed off during a movie or two...
And tonight the maniacal circus continues. Band practice with TDB and the lovely Ms Rose Thorn. Perhaps a glass of wine? Wonder whose turn it is to make din-dins...
I promised myself I'd get back to some running (madness) after this gig, so I will have to follow through with my threats to join Commander Conker on Wednesday. Let's all hold hands and pray that he is sufficiently impressed with my reinstated status as rockstar to be suitably gentle...
Anyway. Today Saint Smith has very little to say about (the everloving) it all. So we'll dive straight into the gospel according to Saint Goldwyer:
NGDG: "A Smith and Wesson beeats four aces."
So tonight TDB cooks up a storm for Rose Thorn, Tarty Farty Tequila Party (who is gracing us with her presence at "band" practice) and myself. Tonight I hand over the Martha Mantle. After I clean the house...
Spread The Love. Love Is The Drug.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Well... Let's hope our defending champions can deliver a slightly more convincing performance tomorrow against Fiji. Last weekend was enough to make even the most die hard fan concerned. Now let's discuss the emblem. Why on God's green and gold earth would a little embroidered buck instill in us such a sense of loyalty and patriotism, and in others such nonsensical vitriol?
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
- There are the obvious romantics, who embrace the feeling of mutual attraction and go with it and don't put too much thought into the ifs, whats and maybes.
- Then there are those that approach the whole thing with trepidation. Like it's something to be wary of. Like they are afraid of getting screwed over and are just waiting for the inevitable disappointment.
- A third type would be the lot that go from one person to the next with hedonistic abandon and scant regard for the consequences.
- There are also those that are literally too timid to expose their frail and fragile selves to the possible rejection and/or eventual pain.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I still maintain I am right and that the disastrous debacle of last night should not have happened. Let me start at the beginning...
Last night's epic adventure began, as most do, waiting for Sidney to bring my my effing Black Label Draft. Team Burger King was set to storm the battlements of LMG Pub Quiz once again, libation in hand!
We were in the lead right til the end as well...
All eyes, accusing and otherwise, were levelled at me for not getting the Cure question. Mike "MC Hammered" Smith delivered the question thus: "With which band would you associate the following statement? It makes you feel better." We answered Placebo. Mike insists the answer was in fact The Cure. My argument is that The Cure makes you better, whilst a placebo merely makes you feel better (or at the very least believe that to be true). Anyway, given my exceptionally well documented indecent life long obsession with The Cure, the world stood aghast that I could have missed this one. And then to make matters worse, we were tied second with a million other teams and duffed up the tie breaker. Sidney's fault, again...
Needless to say we celebrated as if we'd actually won, as we do. We don't usually need a reason, but it's Tarty Farty's birth celebration and we're doing the celebrations in high style for some while! Got to the office after another awesome night feeling a little glandularus offcolourus. Today has been long and arduous. Not even ripping my DrHellCuz off online has helped alleviate the dull throb.
Tonight it's back to business as usual with some more tunage with the lads. Band practice and then early to bed - getting on a plane to Johannesburg at arse-o-clock in the morning. Wunderbar!
Then Friday afternoon the army of lunatics saddle up and invade the peaceful village of Greyton. 31 adults, 4 kids and 7 dogs. I hope they pack in enough NikNaks. And I am now resigned to the gargantuan task of taking part in the "potjie competition" under my own steam. Reckon a few healthy drams of brandy should do the trick. Maybe I'll even use some in the pot...
And since I'm on such a hellbent mission to redeem myself for my fantastical shortcomings in the Smith worship department, I give you today's C&V:
Book 13 : Chapter 4 : Verse 34 - 37
NGDG: "Robben Island: if it was worth visiting, you know they'd have called it Batman Island."
Spread The Love. Enough To Last Til Monday When I Return To Moan Some More.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Can you see me galloping off into the middle of a smokey glen, painted like Scottishman Smurf, swathed in tartan and crude battle gear about to experience the ball chaff from hell?
Monday, September 5, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Anyway, I was going to write about the incredible level of "piss me off why don't you" going around today, but I decided to ignore it and stare blinkered at the onrushing weekend instead.
So, here's hoping you all - each and every one of you special little cases - have a splendid weekend! Herewith today's Chapter & Verse, the gospel of Saint Smith:
Thursday, September 1, 2011
And thus we move onto the more serious business of a proper blog post. None of this rehashed, repackaged kak I tried to get away with. After all, I'm sure you're dying to know what yours truly has been getting up to...
Welcome to my world! I live in this little box in front of you and rant and rave about life, love and everything else. Because the intrawebnets allows me to spew forth my bilge by providing me with this here virtual soap box. So I have decided to edit a little 'highlights' package for you, my wonderful and obviously very discerning readers. For those of you who haven't read every one of my opinion-masturbations, here is a short list of my favourites, from old to new:
1. In which we discover how the Meat Market works.
2. In which we read of my unfortunate duel with death, trying to beat the boep.
3. I just like the picture in this one.
4. The story of how I was cockblocked whilst chatting to the lovely Miss Her-Entire-Bum-Fits-In-My-One-Hand.
5. A rambling report on Ramfest. Awesome!
6. The INFAMOUS "List". Not for the faint hearted.
7. In which the Naked Chef discovers how to make the kitchen his bitch.
8. In which we muse on the mechanics of Teabagging & Lolligagging.
9. 10 Thing I Hate about that thing called Luuuurve...
10. I couldn't leave this one out. It's about BOOBS!
11. In which I fiddle by myself while the world burns.
12. The New Rules - words to live by...
13. Of a particularly well loved song by L7.
14. In which I run straight into the gaping maws of death.
15. I couldn't leave out the post from Sheik Yerbouti's Birthday.
16. A brilliant review of one of South Africa's most brilliant artists.