Thursday, August 28, 2014


There really hasn't been an awful lot on which to report of late. I haven't felt remarkably witty or shitty, so nothing going for me there in terms of blogfodder. It's been fairly ordinary in my life - the usual contentedness and slogging away - making music at great expense and no great expectation of anything in return.

I did however get taken out for dinner on Monday night by the ever effervescent Tarty Farty Tequila Party. Den Anker is an enchanting place tucked away in the Waterfront, specialising in Belgian cuisine and sporting an impressive selection of Belgian beer. NOT fucking craft beer, which is just prepackaged piss brewed in someone's garage and then given the equivalent of an ironic moustache as a label and sold to people who "trend". The highlight of every visit to Den Anker - and I've been there a few times - is the intriguing tradition of relinquishing one's left shoe to the server when ordering a Kwak beer. The reason given is that the glass and wooden stand in which the beer is served usually proves too tempting for the thieves among us to resist and the shoe becomes a sort of insurance policy as it's deposited into a large wicker basket and hoisted out of reach above the bar. Even when you're sitting in the fine dining area. And heaven help you should you need to go to the toilet half way through savouring your Kwak.
Anyway, a delightful evening out with the Tart was had - as always. Soon we go away en masse to celebrate her birthday and the anniversary of my potjiekos victory! Somehow there's always food and drink involved...

Let's see - what can I whinge about? ALS Ice Bucket Challenge? Other than its inherent annoyance factor, I actually think it's a rather novel way to raise awareness and has been very successful in raising funds. It's the shrivelled dickheads who clamber on the passing bandwagon and embrace the latest thing hashtagging without making a material donation that get me down. Ok, so now I'm more aware of Lou Gehrig's Disease. I'm still going to focus my charity on animals. I also happen to be aware of cancer, AIDS, cirrhosis, ebola, man flu and stupidity, all life threatening diseases, but I'd rather give my money and time to the local doggie shelter if it's all the same to you. I'm genuinely surprised no one has yet accused big pharmaceutical companies of a conspiracy to start this challenge in order to sell more cold and flu medication. A cold shower is not on my bucket list.

My bucket list often changes. When I was younger I wanted nothing more than to fling myself off the highest bridge with an elastic band around my ankles. Elastic bands are also used to eventually make lamb's nuts drop off.
I also wanted to travel to Mexico and drink real tequila with real Mexicans, worm and all. Then I realised Mexico is far. I also found myself opting for Jagermeister every time someone offered me a shot.
It goes without saying that there are a number of bands that I would kill to see. However, it occurred to me that for the price of a plane ticket, I could avoid being bummed to death in Polsmoor, so perhaps I should just look into a European holiday. And seeing as how Witchdoctor Productions is currently on a hell-driven mission to bring every band ever to South Africa, I might just wait around a little before dialing Flight Centre.
Here's hoping I still get to enjoy Swans, The Cure, Fields Of The Nephilim, Paradise Lost and My Dying Bride before I shuffle loose this mortal coil. I was thinking of trying to document all the bands I have seen, but realised that would simply take far too long. (This is NOT an invitation to my friends to gloat about the bands they have seen. It's just going to earn you some thinly veiled contempt.)

Speaking of the bands currently booked to come here, let's see if we can name them all, shall we? Sepultura, Behemoth, Konkhra, Septic Flesh, Epica, Fleshgod Apocalypse, Alestorm, Belphegor, Kataklysm, Aborted, At The Gates and a handful of "to be confirmed"s - things are indeed looking rosy. Not to mention all the awesome locally hewed metal...  I suppose I should mention the Foo Fighters as well, but I'm not going. Neither am I going to bother with the Kings Of Chaos, or whatever. But it's a sign of a thriving and vital live entertainment industry and South Africa is now becoming a destination of choice. If only the poverty stricken among us would shut their fucking gobs about the ticket prices and the occasional need to travel. "A man walks into a Ferrari shop with a handful of R20 notes and gives the smarmy salesman a withering glare..."

Anyway, my true and faithful fans and friends (All 8 of you including my Cuzzin)... Have a splendid day. I'm going to get on with the very pressing business of distracting myself with online curiosities until it's time to go home and nap. Then I'll try and block out the world's appalling decline with as much booze as I can ingest and start the entire horrible cycle again with tomorrow's terrifying hangover.


Before I go, actually... Helpful Hint Of The Day:
If you would like your goose to take the Ice Lolly Challenge and have made the wrong choice and are stuck with it (her), fear not! I have the solution! In our product endorsement section today, go and pick out something that will melt even the most frigid of hearts at Martin Barnard Manufacturing Jewellers.

NGDG: Liberia has called up the army to halt its Ebola outbreak. I'm not convinced a gang of twelve-year olds high on mandrax toting AK47s is the best containment measure.

Spread The Love. Fresh Batteries For Your Vibrator.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014


Now that I have your attention, perhaps I should have used this picture instead. For those of you who don't get the reference in the subject line, or what's to follow...

I'm so sick to death of everything. All forms of abuse. The never ending, futile war in Gaza. The militarisation of, and incredible brutality displayed by the police force in 'Murica. The blatant and bald faced corruption that threatens to stifle our very way of life. The frustrating ineptitude and bureaucracy of local government. The banality that strangles our way of social interaction. The apathy that chokes our daily lives. The foreign policy of America that seems to be hell bent on global domination and is left largely alone due to their influence on your adopted style. Fast food. Militant veganism. Dog fighting. Click to "like" shit. "Vote for me" shit. "Share to win" shit. The confounding stupidity that leads people to believe that any of this shit works. Even worse, if it actually does work. The world media distracting us with shiny baubles. Online activism. The incorporation of new words, no matter how clever. Slacktivism. People who jump at any opportunity to pick apart an argument they haven't taken the time to read or understand. Posting a disproportionate amount of pictures of your kids (we get it - you don't need to convince me that's the highlight of your life's achievements). People ranting in blogs. Other people who repost every single feelgood or motivational picture on God's green earth. Combative atheists. Religious zealots. Motherfuckers beheading other motherfuckers over some shit written on a scroll neither party can read. The worldwide obsession with celebrity. The trial of the century. Legal loophole that only the immensely wealthy and/or connected seem to know about. Petty jealousy. Shmushy comments by adults who deride every other form of intellectual deficiency they come across. Habitual no shows. Comments on the weather. Never having enough time. Bad personal hygiene and lack of basic manners. Even worse parenting. Even worse education. Don't get me started on the fucking SABC. If you're so hell bent on returning to nature, do it. Don't share links about it from your PC. Faux-tographers. The imploding music industry. Dwelling on missed opportunities. Racism. Sexism. People who read racism and sexism into everything. Stale jokes regurgitated by half wits. Idiots who jump from one band wagon to the next without touching ground. Senseless loss of life. Even more senseless creation of life. Comfortable suburbanites who manage to find shit to complain about when they're in the top 1%. History repeating itself. The Ukraine. The Biscuit Mall. Fundamentalists who still flog and shame rape victims. Booze prices. Petrol prices. Failure to accept the concept of "I simply can't afford that luxury". Inconsiderate drivers. People with tattoos making a huge song and dance about how unfairly they're treated. Treading on eggshells to avoid offending fucking awful people. Pseudo-intellectuals. Service delivery, or the criminal lack thereof. Basic education and the plummeting standards we so willingly seem to accept. Inside litter trays. High waisted shorts. Hipster bashing. Artisanal anything. Unchecked theft of intellectual property and the absolute lack of respect of legal copyright. The fact that I'm guilty of the last one. The daily grind...

I could go on.

Can someone please - for the love of all things holy - explain what the point of a hashtag is in today's saturated social media.

NGDG: I wish I had Vin Diesel's arms. Then his acting career would be over and we'd have at least 20 pounds of meat to donate to the SPCA.

Spread The Love. Do Something Selfless For A Change. For Someone Who Needs It. Today.

Monday, August 11, 2014


"A tremendous sense of value..."

If the barometer by which one measures "African-ness" is how long one has been an African, and considering I was born here, then I was more "African" than the vast majority of patrons at Mzoli's this weekend. I was the "No Kwaito White Ou" that didn't participate in the serious sessions of "tekkie squeak". But I did experience first hand, and far too often for my liking, what it must be like to be in a rap video. A great array of enormous bottoms found their way backed up into my knees and thighs. Some of them didn't even bother removing the wrecking balls. The delighted squeals of their 8 Miley support systems served only to further add to the party atmosphere of a large tent brimming with gyrating jean pants under the most heinous distress. And meat sauce. Apparently the art of dance has been reduced to merely bending over and combating constipation.

It was a truly awesome atmosphere, ever escalating volume being pumped out of the budget Sakyno speakers, it was what I imagine Babylon would have been if it was a Braai. A whole group of us adventurous touristy types pulled in with our cooler boxes brimming with beer (for the bravado) and salad (for the side dishes). After paying the parking guy a whopping R20 for the right to park in front of his driveway and the use of his mom's house's pristine facilities, we proceeded to order, pay for, and devour the biggest platter of expertly braaied chops, wors and chicken known to man. I felt like an extra in that Castle advert, except I had Black Label. In the sun. Always a great idea. And I can't pronounce "Nxaaaaaa-ba!"

Anyway, after an afternoon of endless entertainment, it was time to head on home to the cake. Yes folks, I baked. I baked a cake for the Hot Girlfriend. It came out looking and tasting just like a cake. I am ever extending my merge into Martha. The unveiling was met with the appropriate squeals and "Aaawwww"s.
I done good. So after the cake and booze fest that continued in my lounge, it was eventually decided that we would all go down to ROAR for more of the same. Booze. Not cake. And am I ever glad we did... It's not often I'm pleasantly surprised or blown away to such an extent. Particularly when it's a band to whom I suppose I should have been paying a bit more attention. But to the lads of Black Moscow, all I can say is "Holy shit! That was fucking awesome!" It's a dense, dark pastiche of intelligently crafted, almost introverted reflection and explosive, yet capably controlled, expression. Bravo indeed! More of that please! Much more!

Also, I made the mistake of checking out the news today. Fuck. I have no idea why I continue to torment myself so. The things that happen in this world, the things that people are capable of doing to each other, the depths to which we have sunk, and particularly the manner in which this information is regurgitated to us, is a source of shame and disgust that causes me physical pain. Fuck you, World! Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to develop a liking for tweenage angst Emo music or sellotape multicoloured poultry to my head, but I'm starting to see the wisdom of choosing to abstain from procreating. Not that I will, mind you. The compulsion to stand at the side of the football pitch and yell obscenities at my progeny far outweighs any loathing I have for humankind or the world in which this child will find itself. I'll just move to the suburbs and try and avoid TV. Perhaps a more proactive approach to making the world a better place is in order. Commence Operation "Farting Against Thunder".

NGDG: Lack of power. Lack of strength. In a world of sheep, the mangiest of wolves will rule.

Spread The Love. Let Them Eat Cake.

Friday, August 8, 2014


Jou Ma Se Ctomy.

Tomorrow is Women's Day. Why only tomorrow? Why don't we celebrate women all year round? I know the answer. Of course, we're commemorating the brave skirted souls who stood up to patriarchal oppression on that day in history.
Nonetheless we should celebrate women all the time. They gave birth to you, and have basically been the focus of your obsession since that first ill-fated game of "you show me yours. I'll show you mine". I remember getting bust, but not as often as I got away with it...
Let's celebrate each and every woman! Except Manto. She can fucking burn in hell for her mass murderous approach to HIV. And Courtney Love. If "gross and sordid" was the second in the degrees of comparison in Sex'n'Drugs'n'Rock&Roll, then she is the undoubted third and final installment. Also, Celine Dion for crimes against humanity, Kim Kardashian for drawing breath, Winnie Mandela for everything, and Noeleen. Oh, and Sarah Fucking Palin. Fuck 'em all.
But to all the other women of the world, the tall, the short, the slim, the overweight, the stylish, the homely, the shy, the adventurous, the mothers, sister and daughters that walk with us through our life journey, here's to you! My sister has often commented that my own very narrow taste is limited to someone with the arse of a 10 year old altar boy and huge gazongas, but I'm saluting you all today. As everyone should, every day.

And particularly to those I hold dear, you know who you are, and why. Love you all - with your eccentric range of foibles. And to "all the girls I've loved before"? Well, I'm proud to say I'm still on very good terms with a lot of them. Songs have been written, in some cases. To the others that done did me wrong... well, songs have been written in some cases. Although they probably wouldn't get it if I gift wrapped the instructions around a brick and made them eat it.

As for The Hot Girlfriend... Well, no words, no gestures, no noble act could ever sufficiently express how I feel about her. So I won't try. At least not on these less than hallowed pages.

And because I'm feeling particularly generous today, I have decided to put together a sampler of the best female vocal based music for your ears and eyes. I hope you enjoy it. I put a lot of thought into this. Well, I haven't yet, I am going to now:

Shannon Hope - Being Brave
Lucy Kruger (feat Andre Leo) - Shudder
Anneke Van Giersbergen and Danny Cavanagh - Leaves
:LOR3L3I: - Leave Me
Croak - Paper Tiger
Terminatryx - Shadow
...and a bonus track by the inimitable Cortina Whilplash
And there you have it.

NGDG: Step 1: Get sexy girl's number. Step 2: stuff. Step 2+n: Get sexy girl.

Spread The Love. No Prodigy Today, Thank You.

Thursday, August 7, 2014


Have I ever mentioned how much I fucking hate hand-hearts?
I think they were invented so we could identify the sort of people
who make kak hashtags, but we can't see them make kak hashtags.

...a toast to the new South Africa.

We live in a country of infinite beauty, potential and inequality...

We live in a country run by a government that's hell bent on redressing the imbalance of Apartheid. By overcompensating. And only for the few.
We live in a country where some descendants of the dreaded boer are still encouraged to be raging racist homophobes, either by their raging racist homophobe parents, the rampant violent crime, or Steve Hofmeyr's barely legible tweets.
We live in a country where every single institution with the letters "S" and "A" in their acronym continue to be woefully - and in some cases, criminally - useless to the point that it drives ordinary people brimming with optimism to commit actual real homicide. Think SARS, SAA, SAMRO, SABC. The list is virtually endless.
We live in a country more consumed by the a"legged" crime of a fallen paralympian than the plight of their fellow countrymen. And a sensationalist media that is the envy of the planet with the exception of 'Murica.
We live in a country in which Noeleen and Gareth Cliff are revered as purveyors of hard hitting journalism.
We live in a country where dressing up as someone less privileged than you could land you in deep kak, and should. Where context is everything. Next fancy dress party will see me in my finest "Rollergirl" outfit and we can sit around and discuss how she was driven by intolerable circumstances to become a sex worker. Yes folks, context IS everything.
We live in a country where the people most making a mockery of our leaders are the leaders most mocked.
We live in a country in which the national anthem is being called into question because people seem to have forgotten the magnanimity of one Tata Madiba.
We live in a country where unchecked genocide through pathetic policies on AIDS were simply tolerated.
We live in a country that invented the vuvuzela and destroying cabbages at local football matches.

We also live in a country that isn't being bombed to shit.
We also live in a country blessed with incomparable wildlife, weather and destinations.
We also live in a country where traffic violations are rendered moot by an appalling loophole in the law.

Every single day in South Africa, somewhere, somehow there are people getting along, getting things done, doing their bit to enrich, enlighten and improve.

Sometimes it's not as bad as it seems. Until the next time you wake up to the maniacally upbeat assault that is Expresso.

NGDG: If you hold shares in African Bank, well, sorry for you. Down from R32 to a terminally-ill R2.60 in under a year. Fail.

Spread The Love. We Sure Could Do With Some.

[Disclaimer: if you take exception to any of this content I'd suggest you reread before venting a poorly worded retort my way. I have left out a lot of negative and positive shit. This is still a better love story than that 50 Shades kak. Perhaps returning your attention to the so-called "trial of the century" is more your pace.]

Tuesday, August 5, 2014


Ok. I know I'm treading a very fucking fine line here, but I'm going to give my considered opinion on the matter anyway and ignore the devastating backlash from the intrawebnets.
Pro-Israel? Pro-Muslim? You decide, but how about taking a bit of time to think about the motivations of either before you adopt a hard line? I like the one that says "I'm a humanist" or whatever.
Both sides are balls-deep to blame. I don't care who threw the first rock all those thousands of years ago, the word "retaliation" lost its meaning in the mists of time. Both sides are operating on very fundamentalist beliefs that are NOT going to change, and if the popular conspiracy theories are to be believed, the Yewnaited States Of 'Murica is funding, and fueling, these atrocities and making a killing. And the Western media is remaining schtumm on any news detrimental to Israel's cause.
Bombing schools full of school children? Unforgivable.
Using children in schools as human shields. Despicable.
The list goes on.
I won't for one minute pretend to know much more than the dribble of truth disguised in an avalanche of bullshit fed to me on the news. But I'm not quite naive enough to believe everything I read. Friends of mine post regular pro- or anti- rhetoric and you need to be able to see it all for what it is.

It's a war. People have been fighting over this sliver of land since Moses led the chosen people through the desert with nothing more than a divining rod. War is only good for one thing and that is to engorge the coffers of whoever is supplying the weapons. Taking advantage of 2 vehemently opposed parties is a fiscal bottomless well.
Unfortunately the current bedfellows of Wall Street also happen to be one of the combatants, so they have the distinct advantage. It's hard to take seriously anyone (still crying foul over the atrocities committed against them 70 years ago) when you see their tank divisions roll up against the hardened militia of malnourished children hurling ineffective stone projectiles.
But fuck both sides. Given the capital, I'm sure Palestine wouldn't hesitate to "retaliate" in kind.
Congratulations, you two. You're the current shining example of just how inhumane we as a species have become. How low and loathsome.
You know, basing the systematic demolition of a neighbour on a few poorly translated passages from a book is a pretty shit idea. But perhaps you could have a look in that very same book for some beautiful examples of compassion. Just a thought.
For fuck's sake, even an irreverent movie like 'You don't mess with the Zohan' got the message right. Fizzy Bubblech, anyone?

NGDG: I really don't think the Ebola virus looks like a strand of pasta. This is naughty science trying to discredit the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster!

Spread The Love. Make A The Sticky.

Friday, August 1, 2014


Awesome design by RealLifeSmileyFace. I'm getting the tshirt.

So it's the weekend. But not the type of weekend that is heralded by an annoyingly nasal twerplet on the airwaves. Just your common and garden Friday. Here in Cape Town. Where business for the week has all but shut down. But hark! What stampede through yonder new day breaks?

Yeah motherfuckers, it's time to get yo MERRILLS on! Tomorrow is the Metal4Africa Winterfest carnival of souls and I'm going! I'm going for the bands! I'm going for the company! I'm going for the Beasties! I'm going there by bus! I'm going to be thoroughly, thoroughly shitfaced...

Those INGlorious basterds, ING are playing. If you smaak your MERRILLS drilled into your cranium with pneumatic savagery then this group of ne'erdowells are just the thing with their sardonic drill sergeant delivery.
Or if you live in lala-land and believe that somewhere in the realms of reality there proudly rides a space warrior on a battle unicorn, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a mighty broadsword, then the epic cheese MERRILS of STRIDENT will do you nicely. Watch our for flagons of mead being slooshed around and the occasional pesky dragon.
I have no idea what the main headliners MAXIMUM CARNAGE are like, but I have been led to believe that they are crushingly heavy, and if past events are anything to go by, I'm sure they are double tit legit and will live up to their moniker.
TERMINATRYX will also be performing their blitzkrieg brand of industrial MERRILL, kicking your head in with a savage stomp.

I've been mulling over the idea of having a kind of 'best of' book published - like David Thorne did. I don't pretend to be anywhere near his exalted league, but ever since I got his book, it's been a thought building up over time. People have encouraged me to do it. It would make quite the stocking filler. Anyway, whether or not I go ahead with this harebrained scheme remains to be seen, but I think a good tentative title would be "Chicken Poop For The Soul"... what do you think?

Today's Daily Gem from the honourable (or perhaps not so honourable) Neal Goldwyer is not from the usual stand alone source, rather a comment on the rampant crime and lack of repercussion in Africa:
I can't wait for China to take over Africa and treat our criminals like they treat their own.
Wise, our Neal...

Spread The Love. Ek Kry Al Klaar 'N Horing.