More RAM for your PC?

Wow! What a month! The 9th of February saw one of the world's greatest live bands here to entertain us with their billion kiloton pyrotechnical spectacle. I'm talking about RAMMSTEIN! It was simply awesome. Yes, I was as sick as a dog and literally almost burnt alive, but it had to go down as one of the best nights ever! Certainly the most high octane show I have ever been to...

And a few short weeks later we're treated to the ever-growing RAMFEST. Replete with Dali-legged pachyderms. This weekend a few metalheads, a whole bunch of kids that think My Chemical Romance started 'music' and of course a few 'normal' people will all descend upon Nekkies in Rawsonville for what is fast becoming THE most popular live music festival in SA. From humble beginnings 5 years ago, it has grown to a massively well supported festival, where you are more than likely to climb in the wrong tent at some point over the weekend, simply because every person there owns exactly the same Camp Master Wedge Dome III...

It promises to be a hectic weekend, considering I'll be there with one Tequila Tart in tow, as well as the sibling Party Animal and a bunch of other crazies. Wish me luck.

Acts to look out for: The (mighty, mighty, magnificent) Sleepers, Isochronous, A Walk With The Wicked, Contrast The Water, Mind Assault, Sabretooth, Juggernaught, Axxon and probably a few more I am too lazy to mention.

What does this have to do with PCs you ask? Fuck all. Unless you consider my views on the so called 'headliners' to be a little unPC. At least the emo-screamo kuif-crew will be wetting them se pants...

Spread the love, but remember, at a festival it is likely that her fridge sized boyfriend is right around the corner, so be careful or employ a look out.

ALIEN INVASION and THE FINGER.

Pictures are supposed to be worth a thousand words. Whilst this particular picture is probably slightly less verbose than that, I think it adequately sums up my outlook right now...

AND, in the spirit of the Cricket World Cup, where nations from all around the globe get together to do noble battle with bats n balls, I have welcomed one of my closest friends for a visit. She emigrated to New Zealand about 6 years ago. It is a battle. I haven't been this consistently hung over in many moons. Today's weather forecast puts us at a pleasantly balmy 37C here in the mother city. If only expiring were an option...

So. It's been a while. I have once again been under the radar for various reasons, but am glad to report that I'm back to my usual stroppy self. Finally. Also, I have been on leave, which is always nice. Among other things, I have been on a roadtrip that took in Hermanus, Gansbaai, Stanford and Napier (Suntouched Inn - 5 star resort - 5 star people - highly recommended). My New Zealand friend (let's call her Snorkels) and I have been to some of the most awesome wine farms and generally had a really splendid time adventuring about. In the way you do when taking "out of towners" around, but never do in the normal course of events.

We even played putt-putt and rode the children's train at Mouille Point. Do it - it's loads of fun.

Drinking on a school night should come with a bright red warning label... But when one has the opportunity to share said drinks with one Tequila Tart (or as her real friends know her, Futtom) then one must make hay.

Which brings me conveniently to my next point (pint?). Next weekend is RAMfest. A highlight in this social butterfly's calender. I am starting early and building up prayer credits that I make it through this year's festivities and frivolities alive. Will I ever learn? Probably not...

Also next weekend marks the return of Cape Town's prodigal daughter. According to the buzz on the ether, this is something a lot of people are anticipating with much glee. TLC, hope your trip back home is safe and you get here in one piece.

Now all I have to do is think up imaginative ways of staying alive through today until I can get home and flop down into a late afternoon coma.

Spread the love. Preferably on a consenting hottie.

Mundane in the membrane.

Ok, so in order to maintain some level of interest in this here blog, I suppose I'd have to post more posts. So in the spirit of being more prolific, and hopefully not cutting back too much on the quality of the ramblings, here we go...

The first few weeks of the year so far have been quite interesting. What with Buddy Boy securing accommodation in the EXACT same flat I shared with Thelma&Louise (Thelma-Thoul-To-Thatan and the eczema-ridden jerk she ran off with), the revelation that another is close to closing the marriage deal, the awesome news that great friends of mine are preggers, the general acceptance that I have to work for a living and the instigation of a really cool music appreciation society, it's been HECTIC!

So we're well and truly back into the swing of things now that all the parents are back at work as well. Looking forward to my holidays already... But before that, there are so many exciting things happening. This weekend is the Southern Ink Exposure Tattoo Convention. Mentioned in my previous post. So now I am going, must stay off the sauce - might walk out with directions to the lavatory tattooed on my forehead.

Looking forward to the week. Tonight is our traditional band practice/dinner party suipathon. Very successful last week - managed to write a beautifully bleak number, which - at least in our wine soaked revelry - sounded freakin' awesome.
Football has also started. Oh my Effing G! Thursday I was skinned by a 52 year old all afternoon, but not wanting to give in I persisted with the lung-crushing, dizziness-inducing pirouette of death as he ran circles around me. Needless to say the loss to the small balding fellow, the old guy and their buddies wasn't met with a great amount of joy. Mainly because we were all laid out and gasping for air...
And then there's work. The most challenging thing is to regain any momentum or motivation I ever had. I'm sure it'll come, just getting there is like getting into the pool. Rad once you're in, just a mission to overcome that first hurdle.

Friday is going to be better than most Fridays.

Spread the luuurve. Sounds like a good plan...

Welcome to the Year of the Lepretic Badger.

Badger, beaver, weasel, whatever...

So here we are. A new year, pregnant with possibility and brimming with all sorts of stupid resolutions...

I personally don't make any, since I have the drunken imagination to inflict nigh impossible restrictions on myself in the form of lifestyle altering resolutions and virtually no follow through. I already gave up smoking on a whim a year and a half ago. And I've had a moratorium placed on my sex life due to the unfortunate combination of suddenly finding myself single and being very picky between bouts of ill-advised alcohol fuelled ogling (which, incidentally is a very ineffectual way of getting laid...)

So I'm not giving up on anything. In fact, this year I may just take up a new vice. Nothing drastic, maybe get my first tattoo. I find myself under immense pressure to do so, the world being what it is - and the people in it the sheep they are. Maybe I shouldn't get too pissed at the Southern Ink Exposure Tattoo Convention. The jury is in fact still out as to whether I am going to attend. We'll see. All in the name of new vices...

Which brings me back to where I was going in the first place. When the fuck did "responsibility" replace "rock n roll"? Huh? What happened to balls-to-the-wall, tits-up, wall-to-wall debauchery without the consequences? Or - at the very least - why and when did I start caring?

Anyway. Welcome to a brand new year. As decreed by the Romans. Did you know the Romans were crazy? At least they provided us with the aquaduct.

Spread the love. In new and imaginative ways.

WEEKEND WARZONE

Take a look at the beautiful woman airbrushed onto the equally beautiful guitar. It has long been public knowledge that I (and most other males in the known universe) have a special fondness for Ms Jenna Jameson. She now endorses Jackson guitars (who just happen to sponsor little ol' me) and it's like stars (literally) aligning. To quote a very entertaining and wise man "Oh yes! She will be mine!"

All that was a rather nifty way of informing you about my weekend. I played a show. On a guitar. A Jackson - no less. Well, the truth is I played one song as a cameo appearance to help some buddies out. But I did play a Jackson that looks just like the one in the picture, only it doesn't have the delectable Ms Jameson emblazoned on it... So. One song - quite a bit of palaver and then it's over in 2 minutes and 54 seconds. Much like my sex life. Bar the fanatical screaming...

The rest of the evening was spent celebrating my triumphant return to the stage and getting legless with some good mates. After having spent the previous evening getting legless with some good mates. So after having soaked up the adoration of about 2 people, it was business as usual. We were at the Harley Davidson Club in Cape Town. Wow! What a great place. Things are clean. The staff are great. It was a classic night all round. My favourite representatives from YourLMG were on hand to provide their legendary dose of good natured debauchery. Mine eyes were assaulted by all the incredibly hot girls. I swear I was like a kid in a candy store. Clifton can fuck right off - all the tattooed hotties at this party were waaaay better! Well, all except one. I was leaving backstage in an advanced stage of "jovial" when this poor sinner's eyes rested on a magnificent pair of legs that went all the way up. Cue involuntary drooling of epic proportions. Upon raising my gaze to take in the rest of this beauty, I felt damn well distinctly cheated. Awesome pins, but they belong to someone that will and should remain nameless. Buggery. Goes to show that being smoking hot isn't everything. Did I just really say that?

Anyhow. Onto the real reason behind this protracted missive. Much, much later and much, much boozier, I found myself at the Shack. It was at this last bastion for late night revelers that I bumped into this cutie pie . Like, the cutest little cutie pie ever. With a pinch of dangerous. Just the way I like em. What followed was a dronk conversation that I thought was going particularly well. My lurid ramblings actually seemed of interest to "little miss my entire bum fits into his one hand". Enter my uber-considerate friend - from now on known simply as Cock Blocker. So now I had the humiliating disappointment of not closing the deal to add to the monumental hangover in store for me.

So. Thanks Sailor Jerry Rum. Thanks Harley Davidson Club. Thanks Mike from YourLMG. Thanks Cape Town for having the hottest women on the planet. Thanks Lil Miss Cutie Bums and thanks Cock Blocker. Sunday morning could not have been any worse.

Spread the love this festive season. Most of it my way please.

Designated Disaster

So this weekend was a total bust. And not the good kind of bust...

Well, the birthday parties I went to were awesome. Right until I had to do the responsible thing and stop drinking. Then the rose tinted spectacles came clanging down with spectacular velocity.

You see, I no longer have what's lovingly refered to as a better half. Lamentable, I know. So I now spend a lot more time worrying about driving myself home. The extra beers I used to pack into the cooler box are now replaced with a 2l Sprite. Lame, I know... But at this time of year, it is advisable to exercise caution.

Add to that the distinct lack of service on hand when I took my car in on Saturday morning (I now have to wait en entire week) and the lack of stock of the other thing I was looking to buy (retail therapy) AND a relatively unsuccessful attempt at Christmas shopping, and you have one times bunny that - more so than usual - needed those extra drinks. Enter Mr Misery.

And DO NOT get me started on that suburb, Bumfuck, Ohio. You know the one prefered by every yuppy in Cape Town. Formerly known as Tableau Voi. I went to the mall there and it was closed at 6pm! 6PM! ! ! On a Saturday! In December! Smack in the middle of Yuletide madness! What.The.Fuck...

I still can't see how anyone can live there...

At least today is going alright...

Oh, and p(m)s, Congrats to the BlackMilkers for walking away with all the prizes. Now I'm never gonna hear the end of it.

Spread the love. You know mos.

Festival Of Beer

Now we know how and why religions start - and why they always have their own festivals. Just saying.


I've been very slack. My excuse is as follows. Documenting my last month or 2 and the kak I've had to go through is something I'd rather not share. Simple, innit?


I will tell you this though. I have done very well in the "drinking myself into sweet oblivion and thereby numbing any anguish I might otherwise have felt" stakes.

Your guess is as good as mine as to how far this current phase is going to last. Personally I think I'm getting to the "cult" status. Perhaps this weekend's FESTIVAL OF BEER might be just the thing to finally tip my boozing into the mystic realms of actual religion...


Personally, I recommend to any potential parishioners of my budding new faith the exquisite Napier Bier that'll be available over the weekend. Also a good friend of mine, known simply as JDP, brought me some Darling Beer recently, and it was quite good I must say.


Ok, it's not a budding new faith. It's a deep seated obsession and medicinal crutch.


So, see you at the Festival. I'm going Swaggart on yer ass! Plus I'm probably going to die -and find out just how successful my bid to turn alcoholism into "afterlife-like" religion- was or is. More info here: http://capetownfestivalofbeer.co.za/


Spread the love. By the tankard.