Tuesday, September 10, 2013


There are flies on the windscreen. Tuck your eyes into your pants. Do the dance with no pants. As if no one is watching. Fuck like you're being filmed. Etc.

Also, there's that brilliant new video with Hannah Montana in it. Innit? There is nakedness. There is nudity and gratuitous grinding. There is lewd and lascivious licking of a hammer in all sorts of suggestive ways. There is also indignation and outrage. How dare that sweet kid emblazoned on my child's lunchbox grow up and discover how good fucking feels? How dare she further her career using her (rather limited) sex appeal? It's not like pop starlets haven't been doing the exact same thing since before Samantha Fox... Here's a thought. YOUR daughter is doing it as well. In dark corners of seedy clubs. In bathroom stalls. At house parties under your nose. It's this realisation that has everyone freaked out. I hope one day when I am all growned up and have a child that it is a boy. With role models like these for his female school chums, he should have far less hassles getting laid than his dear old dad.

But seriously, there is real life horror and tragedy to deal with. Why fixate on what some wiry little tit is getting up to on her video? There is sadness and atrocity of such terrible proportion and monolithic magnitude that not even a biblical shitstorm would stand up to it. It is travesty of such immeasurable depths that no amount of consoling or comfort can ever right the diabolical wrongs...
Sabretooth have announced their demise. Bam! Another nail in the coffin of the local music scene. Their style, flare and omnipotent hair will be sorely missed. Isn't it ironic (go on, you did that in your Alanis voice...) that the very first time I've read a proper description of their music, it's in their obituary on Metal4Africa. "Retro-metal". That's the bunny! So, as with all good things, this too must come to an end. Farewell, gentlemen! It's been great. May your future endeavours endear you to us all as much as your Sabretooth shenanigans and music did.

I suppose I have to go back a little. I've been absent again. Did your heart grow fonder? No wonder Jane took to aerobics...

Let's see, what have I been up to?

Myself and the lads were involved in an epic photoshoot for the band (well, one of the bands...) I can't wait to be able to show you all the results. I can't wait to see the results myself. Much fun was had. Well, that's not entirely true. Dr Benway, who was the photographer, had all sorts of interesting ideas about us standing in Bilharzia puddles. I'm hopeful that his madness does in fact have some method to it...

I had a terrible case of the ManFlu as well. I was almost dead. Misery had a new poster child last week, but I couldn't take time off work, since it is our every-six-month busy period. I can't imagine how normal people do this week in and week out.

I've also been putting all my efforts into figuring out my new phone. Yes, I've finally converted to the 21st century and got myself one of those glass snooker tables that can read the interwebs. I'm getting quite adept at the swipey-flicky, if only so that when I'm seen in public squinting at my phone over my protruding tongue, I lessen the comedic visage by appearing to know what I'm doing.

A lot of other stuff has happened - none of which I can remember right now. The one thing of almighty importance though, was the birthday of one Tarty Farty Tequila Party. We lunched on roast - as you do on a wintry Sunday afternoon. It was glorious. I am infinitely grateful, however, that I managed to escape the festivities before the real boozing started. Happy Birthday, Tarty!

Anyway, everybody out there in interweblands, have a great day! With any luck, my life will take a turn to the less mundane and I'll have something interesting to write about.

NGDG: Maybe now that Russell Brand reminded us all of the link between Hugo Boss and the Nazis someone will fix the evidently erroneous sub-heading in the wikipedia entry for Hugo Boss: "Shit from Union Manufacturing".

Spread The Love. Send The Bitch A Miley Face. Bitches Love Miley Faces.

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