ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS...

...contrary to popular belief, is not my two front teeth.

There are a number of things. Mostly things that didn't make it onto a wishlist - as gift buying, much to my disappointment - has been severely curbed this year.
Some of the things I want can't be bought. Even some of the tangible items are usually a bit too rare to find easily. But here goes anyway...

• I want the Grinches to give Christmas back. I love Christmas and the magical veneer of hope and generosity it instills in even the most pessimistic of people.
• I'd like me some World Peace. Real, actual, non-hippy end to the incessant fight for domination of others.
• More birth control.
• An end to abuse. Abuse of power. Sexual abuse. Domestic abuse. Most of all abuse to animals.
• I want my friends back - too many are scattered across the globe.
• I'd like Cape Town back - the tourists are already making it unbearable, and that's just on the roads.
• I hope that more and more people find love.
• I wish for the friends of mine involved in making music to enjoy the success they deserve. This includes the friends involved in my various projects as well.
• I want the pain from the sunburn on my knees to stop.
• I would love the superpower of "no hangovers" and an unlimited supply of Johnny Walker Black Label.
• Less restrictive laws regarding exposed boobs.
• All programme directors should be subjected to their own playlists and forced to endure the same hell as radio listeners.
• An end to celebrity obsessed society and more recognition for real artists.
• A black Audi A3.
• More time for renovations.

Modest hopes, I'll grant you, but they're mine.

Here is wishing all of you a wonderful festive season and may all your wishes come true in a prosperous New Year. Thank you all for taking the time to read the criminally crap tirades, stories and reviews.

NGDG: Over a dozen presents wrapped. Were their recipients good? Am I feeling festive? Who cares? Finally, my home is free of all that Avon shit. There are bottles of mens stink left. They're so weak I could give them to the homeless as cocktails.

Spread The Love. Merry Christmas!

FOREVER REMAIN

Thanks Sid!

Only people with the most exquisite music taste will get the reference. But really. It's for all my friends (well, three of them...) who have a strange tentacle fantasy thing happening. And it's Christmas. According to Shoprite and Canal Walk, it has been since Easter.

And as I do every year, I have compiled, because you, my dear beloved reader cannot possibly be expected to keep up with all my mindless drivel, a best of. Below is a list of posts I've made throughout the year, reflecting the least pointless. This is not a statistically correct list. It is not derived from number comparison. Rather it is my own favourites. And since I win 'Narcissist Of The Year' every year, it's reasonably accurate. (Don't tell my dad, I hate it when he gloats.)

Here. It's me. Filling your stocking:

1. Yet another opinion on the current state of the music industry.
2. Priscilla, Queen Of The Desserts.
3. Tattoos 'n' shit.
4. Now I Wanna Be Your Dog!
5. Bad day at the office.
6. Menage a trois.
7. How to be less like you.
8. Bergie business boom!
9. You will have great sex with a gorgeous person forever and ever
10. Sixty-nine! Sixty-nine! Sixty-nine!
11. On Defecation Boulevard!
12. The only REAL Scandal in this country is the soap opera by that name.
13. Penniless for your thoughts.
14. I should have treated Kulula like the Porta-potty it is...
15. NOT a phrase I heard in high school.
16. Beggars Banquet.
17. In which Will Smith punches an alien.
18. Lolcats is not a Cure song.
19. Sonic Tonic for the tone deaf.
20. Why so serious?
21. I predict a riot.
22. Michael Stipe is a visionary.
23. A silly way to use the C-word whilst not using the C-word.

See, I would have made it a nice even 24 - 2 for every month of the year - but I'm not quite convinced I have finished writing Top 24 material just yet for the year. So I'm leaving a space open for one more doozie! The rest all get "Participant" rosettes.

NGDG: Pet hate # 4 (I'm not a hateful person so it barely runs to double digits): chilling on Facebook at night and folk take your being online as an invitation to call or message you.

Spread The Love. Not The Cheeks. Well...

BOOTY CALL

Wow. Been away for some time now again. Seems my writing - or at least my motivation to write - is now more in tune with the phases of the moon than my nutritional requirements. Also, it may have to do with the fact that I am still obstinately offline when not at the office. I lie. I find myself getting more and more involved with my smart phone. I'm continually impressed by her features and her astounding ability to entertain me on the toilet. That is, of course, between the mirthful machinations of one David Thorne.

One such feature that recently impressed is the video recording. In a symbolic gesture no doubt mirroring my future, I handed all my valuables to The Hot Girlfriend. With the request to please record video for at least one of the songs I was about to perform. What I got back was amazing. My pocket-calculator-moonlighting-as-a-glass-snooker-table actually takes better video than some of the cameras we had scattered around the event.

I'm trying ever so subtly to tell you I played a show last week. Two, actually. The first was the (you have no idea how) long awaited launch of my main band SUBVERS. It has been a million years in the making and finally we were able to share our music with the brave crowd that made it through the daunting Madiba traffic. To everyone who came out to share this occasion with us, thank you! We hope you enjoyed it as much as we did. [*A large portion of relief also contributed to our afterglow...]
Judging by the after show drinkfest that lasted (for some) until 5am, on a school night, it was a success all round. I certainly can't wait to do it all again, especially for those of you who weren't able to make it. Catch us at Metal4Africa's Summerfest '14.
Also, a huge thank you to Paul Bothner Music and Mercury Live. Without their continued and very kind support many a live act would not be where they are today.

And then there was Symphonaire Infernus II, the labour of love in which we present Doom Metal classics close to our collective little black hearts. I had tonnes of fun! As much fun as a boy can have with his pants still on. A particular highlight for me was being able to perform VOD's classic 'If I Had A Soul' sharing a stage with the band's original drummer, Paul Blom. It was an honour. Also to Mein Sohn, thanks for all the help! You fucking rock!

Anyway, not to be too much of an arse about it, but I am glad that the media circus surrounding Tata Madiba's passing seems to have come to somewhat of a halt. I truly believe that the man and his legacy should be celebrated forever, but the fashion in which far too many opportunistic vultures treated the entire affair left much to be desired. Clearly what the man achieved in his life has had a profound impact on us all. And if anything, let his passing at least have opened some peoples' blinkered eyes to the gross ineptitude and scandalously transparent inability to give a fuck of our beloved ruling party. I quite liked the way the "Booze For Zuma" campaign backfired, though...

Anyway, it's the final slog. For some, the holidays have already started. I know a certain Princess Pants who is pleased as punch to be here in Cape Town. Her home. Far away from the murky drudgery of the Big Shitty. Next to LordDoom. She makes him cheerful. It's something we're all still getting used to. We braaied there last night. On a school night. I'm not capable of much today other than following the cricket and longing for a swift, painless death.

And on that note, adios muchachos. We're already 2 overs in.

NGDG: Saw a guy at the mall in his EFF beret, all pilled and fluffy. I've seen Ramones merchandise with better durability. Not that I advocate anyone promoting the Ramones in public.

Spread The Love. What Would Tutu Do?

PROJECTILE PANTIES

Much like the insults and boos flung in the direction of Zuma, it is THAT time again!
The time to divest yourself of your saucy undergarments and fling them onto a stage in an uncontrollable fit of hormonal lust and in-the-moment insanity. Scream if you like...

Yup. It is here! Bigger than the World Cup and without all that unnecessary and undignified falling about. Tomorrow night the likely lads of SUBVERS will give you a show the likes of which you haven't seen in a long time - if ever. I must cut myself short here. Before I get too carried away with shameless self promotion and miss the point of today's post. And that point is just BE THERE.

If you miss out, you can't go back. You will forever be that guy that couldn't make it and regrets it for the rest of his miserable life. Don't give your friends ammunition to gloat. You know the very quality of your future existence depends on it. Don't be foolish. Don't be lazy. Don't leave your happiness to chance. Don't resign yourself to a life of regret. This is your chance to be part of history.

So do yourself a favour. Go out and buy yourself something nice to wear. Spoil yourself this festive season. Take your time. Doll yourself up for the most important night out of the year. Make sure you have enough money for the bar. Remember to pack in clean underwear. And treat yourself to a bit of SUBVERS...

Here's a little taster. Our online demo 'Flatline'. Enjoy...

NGDG: Thailand's prime minister is called Yingluck. Reminds me of Nigeria's Goodluck, or our own - Shitouttaluck.

Spread The Love. Fling The Knickers.

REAL BOOBS - NO FAKERY HERE...

I'm often accused of using boobs to increase traffic on these hallowed pages.

I'm no political analyst. I just calls 'em like I sees 'em. And what's going down in the wake of Madiba's death is as tragic as it is contemptible. The vultures have gathered en masse to pick clean the bones of a great legacy. Where once, as a nation, we had a father figure, we are now left with a lecherous uncle that forces you to fiddle with him in the bathtub. The parasites are clamouring for a piece of the action and the sickening saccharine insincerity flowing from every set of lips that still draws breath makes me want to shoot myself through the ears and then the eyes.

Other than that, I had an awesome weekend, thank you.

Kick ass rock'n'roll, both on and off the stage, were the order of the day at Kuduchild's EP Launch at Ragazzi. It was hot and sweaty - just the way it should be - as the capacity crowd was treated to a night of seriously groovy tunes. Once the openers (the alluring Galactidactyl and the immense Dirt Boxes) had swept the crowd up into a heaving frenzy, Kuduchild took to the stage with their trademark stompin' brand of desert rock and rocked the SHIT out of an excitable and very receptive crowd. No one was spared as they "gave it horns" only the boys from Kuduchild know how to do, a truly memorable and mammoth show. Onward and upward as these guys blaze a trail through the dusty heartland of SA's burgeoning music scene and into our collective conscience.
There was even a sideshow, inside and out. Apparently there had been work functions before the show that day, the effects of which were still being felt by some of the more rambunctious patrons... Tarty Farty Tequila Party and UpSideDownGirl, I'm looking at you!

And then on to the main event. Sunday marked the union of two of our closest friends, the ViKing and his bride, Sheik Yerbouti. The only thing more beautiful than the stunning setting was the ceremony itself - one that included air punches and a plastic monkey. The words were heartfelt and beautiful. The bride and groom clearly could hardly contain their excitement - infectious to say the least! Everything was as it should have been on their special day. The speeches, the food, the music (a fond subject at weddings) and the family and friends all made for a wonderful occasion. We, as guests sharing this auspicious day, could not have hoped for a more perfect wedding - as I'm sure it will be forever in their hearts and memories. Congratulations, you two! May your future be forever blessed.

Which brings me to the most expensive little bag of potatoes ever purchased. My little sister (and vastly superior half of the DSW) has a long held theory on potatoes. Apparently our home grown variety doesn't come close to the quality of its Irish counterpart when it comes to mash. I politely disagree.
Anyway, making my way to Canal Walk to take advantage of a particular gift buying opportunity, I was at once filled with the holiday spirit of giving and the insurmountable dread of having to survive a trip to a mall in the grips of Yuletide fever. Usually I plan it pretty well and manage to get in and out before being overwhelmed by a compulsion to commit genocide.
The thing I was after was sold out...
So in order to make my trip worthwhile, I bought the one thing I needed for dinner. A small packet of potatoes. Walking back to the car as quickly as I could it dawned on me that the parking cost more then the little bag of tubers in my hand and that I had effectively just wasted an hour of my life and paid more than double for something that - upon getting home and finding potatoes in the cupboard ANYWAY - turns our I didn't need. Online shopping, here I come.

Anyway, here's to a short week! I have taken the liberty (precaution) of taking off a few days so that I may prepare for and recover from the 2 gigs I have coming up later this week. The all important SUBVERS launch showcase at Mercury is on Wednesday, followed by the sumptuous Symphonaire Infernus II on Friday at ROAR. Hope to see one and all there!

It's even made the press. If you haven't had enough of my opinions yet, Metal4Africa asked us some questions...

And last but by no means least, a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY to two extraordinary people. Biffy, wish you were here. Miss you. And Charles - hope you have an awesome one, mate.

NGDG: Noah. The Movie. Relax, it's Aronofsky. It has Emma Watson in it. Possibly two of her if I remember the story right. It's every guy's threesome fantasy.

Spread The Love. 'Tis The Seasoning.

ORPHANED LAND

Live to honour what he stood for, son.

Today we are collectively saddened by the report of the passing of a man depicted as the saviour and father of our nation.

I'm saddened by the grossly opportunistic politicking.

I am saddened that, eventually, Madiba died of a broken heart. I would too, if I was forced - as he was - to watch my beloved South Africa violated with such reckless, remorseless abandon.

I am saddened that his passing was reported on the eve of the premiere of a film celebrating his life. Would anyone be that callous? It's not only hard to digest, but hard to believe and smacks of the rankest collusion between those that have been reported as withholding the truth and all the would-be profiteers.

It saddens me that on this day, so many will not remember the countless others who have died, leaving behind families and loved ones.

It saddens me that ours is still a society rife with rampant racism and incredible inequality. What goes down at Mzoli's and Caprice, a thin veneer of brotherhood enjoyed by socio-economic peers, is hardly representative of the divide in our country. The united front so proudly paraded on the news is but a band-aid over a gaping wound that has yet to heal. A wound filled with the feasting maggots of our current leadership.

I am saddened by the fact that I do not have the answer.

I shed a tear, not for the passing of a great leader, but for seeing his legacy trampled under the feet of those who purport to uphold his ideals.

It grieves me that so many will write glowing tributes today and forget tomorrow.

It saddens me that I am not the saint I think I am and that I am just as guilty of all of the above as you are.

NGDG: I drew a happy cartoon when I was ten featuring Mandela and De Klerk. I wrote a paper about him in 1994. The teacher said 'Ok, let's say you respect the man for standing up for his ideals but don't forget he is a terrorist.' I don't forget the class parroting Mr Combover. I don't forget these same people reading LWTF two years later and suddenly changing their tune. I don't forget you johnny-come-latelys. This is why I won't have children. So they don't have to go to school with the children of the people I went to school with.

Today, above all days, Spread The Love.