Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I MIGHT JUST BECOME A STAR WARS FAN AFTER ALL...



Today I saw one of the best things I have ever seen. It has long been apparent to anyone who'd listen that I am not particularly fond of Die Antwoord. Or any other novelty act for that matter, except GWAR. And not because I think their particular brand of debased urban trash culture (because, come on face it, you can't call that music...) is that stupendously kak, but because wonderfully talented musical geniuses like Waddy Jones are forced to lower their standards to, well, tripe like Die Antwoord. I do not begrudge them their success. I do not begrudge them their rabid following, albeit a comprising of a slightly lower common denominator. It's the so called music loving public I have a problem with. Except this guy. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Answer to Die Antwoord.

Hysterical...


Also, I have thought of a new drinking game - take a shot every time one of the actors in 7de Laan stops talking and stares intensely into the middle distance at the end of a scene or conversation. Guaranteed to be plastered before the second ad break. Super fast and effective. Drink responsibly.


Tonight is my turn to cook for Dinner Club. Tonight I try out a recipe I just made up. I will be attempting something I will hopefully be able to call Mediterranean Chicken Scrumptious Surprise.

The surprise, hopefully, will be that it is not merely palatable, but a veritable taste sensation. I will let you know tomorrow whether or not we had mass emergency room scenarios. I will be using fresh produce from my own herb garden...


I'd like to introduce one of my favourite new bands - I'm thinking of making this quite a regular feature. This week's winner is Dead Lucky, a sort of disdainful bastard lovechild of Motorhead and The Cult, with an aunty who had lots of Golden Earrings. This description, no matter how many times I rethink it, doesn't really capture what they're all about, but right now I can't do any better. It certainly doesn't do them justice. One's things for damn straight certain. They rock the tits off everything! Check out their latest single Our Prayer and draw your own conclusions.

And on that note, I bid you adieu. I am looking forward to getting home, cleaning my house, cooking up a storm, some light gardening and something else I either forgot or cannot type on this here blog post for fear of offending anyone with a delicate constitution. Suffice it to say it is the fourth thing on the to-do list for this afternoon.

NGDG: " 'Neal Goldwyer is a king' - Patience the security guard. I really should start believing the compliments instead of remembering the slurs."

Spread The Love. Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew!

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