MORE THAN A TWIST

So I decided to try this altogether new and improved way of dealing with life. Some guru in Hollywood must have invented it as some new age lifestyle trend. You know, something to replace Botox and dog-in-a-bag. It's known as "sobriety" and it's come as a complete shock to my system. I feel irritible, disoriented and generally without purpose. This morning I left for work and my new clean jeans were sporting the latest in "sink splash in the crotch area" and "egg yolk on the knee" accessories.

I tell you, this is not for everyone. I wonder how many other people know about this.

Anyway, back to life, back to reality. It's turned out to be a beautiful winter's day in the Mother City. Apparently the proposed change of a name ala Prince/Artist Formerly Known As Prince/Symbol has already blown over. I can't imagine what kind of snowball effect that would have had on the local streets and landmarks. At least, of the few streets that have been renamed, Helen Suzman Boulevard is apt enough, going right past the biggest Old Tannie Home in the world, Sea Point.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all I have for you today. I don't want to bore you with any more inane dribbling and my mom always taught me "leave 'em wanting more"...

NGDG: "Apparently 'What do homeless kids like to eat so I don't buy the wrong tinned food?' is not an appropriate response to the winter charity drive."

Spread The Love. Like A Care Bear Tummy Ray.

FLEETING FAME!

What happens when you Google "fame" and "boobs"...

I think Morrissey said it best when he intoned "Still... I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy..."
I tend to agree. If only for what I imagine to be the benefits of Motley Crue style debauchery backstage, or in a hotel room if it ever comes to that.

We certainly don't do the music bizz for money. This is a fact. It is the fact among facts. It is King Fact. An extremely talented local musician recently wrote a piece for Rolling Stone SA well worth the read about this very fact. A great example is Jay Yuenger who, upon being interviewed for the position of guitarist in White Zombie, famously agreed to live in a van and eat dirt in order to become part of the band. This is the set of circumstances we are forced to accept when entering the wonderful world of making music. Thank goodness I'm not all that good and have been forced to have a day job all along... Add to that my stoic unwillingness to turn to novelty as a means of attaining fame, and I'm doomed to obscurity and, at best, a small amount of local imfamy. I must be doing something right!

Anyway, all this stems from all the recognition I just got. I was asked my never-humble opinion on which songs currently rock my world, specifically metal tracks that have me secretly doing a happy dance in my slippers in my kitchen when no one is watching. Even if one of the songs I mentioned is a 12 minute doom metal song. A lot of silly twiggling goes on in my house when I'm Martha-ing about. Although even I draw the line at my own singing. Yes, my voice is THAT bad.

Anyway, go and read all about my TOP 5 Tuesday selection. It has music. And pictures.

Don't you think the weather is awesome today? Huh!? Isn't it radical that I don't have to go for a run this afternoon? Lazy has a new name. Yesterday I got home with every intention of cleaning and tidying the construction site I call home. Instead, after a Martha twiggle in my slippers while cooking dinner, I settled on the couch and watched 3 movies and drank bumtarded amounts of wine. I swear I'd die of boredom and alcohol poisoning if I didn't have as many extra mural activities as I do. I'd end up like that poor tubby bastard who died eating canned spaghetti on "7EVEN".

And speaking of deadly sins, a friend of mine remarked today that I should write a piece on my own vanity. Jees, thanks buddy! Is it really that bad? Yes, I'll readily admit to being a big fan of myself, but I can think of a few things I prefer over even me. And they mostly start with the letter B...

Look out of your window. Spare a thought for those less fortunate in this bollocks-crunching cold and wet weather. And if you can, lend a helping hand. If you can spare a warm top, or a pair of socks, make a difference in someone's life. Or simply find a place to which you can make a small donation. And be grateful that your only problems include the speed at which the internet allows you to read my drivel.

NGDG: "The best things in life are dead" [Above a picture of roadkill]

Spread The Love. I Follow Jessica Jaymes On Twitter.

BIG BANG WEEKEND

How is it possible, with all the lying around and sitting around that I managed to do without interruption this weekend, that I am still tired? I've been sitting here in the office dimming and brighting all day. Perhaps it's the aircon that's blasting in a balmy 26C...

Looks like I may have to resort back to crazy party packed weekends to maintain an even keel. I feel like Danny Glover in 'Lethal Weapon'.

You'd probably slash your wrists if I bored you with the details of my couch and bed activities, so I'll skip to the highlights - those that happened outside of my home. On Friday I sat at Rose Thorn's house in front of a roaring fire and drank beer. Not too much physical strain there. Unless you count flapping your jaw extensively. And going to the bathroom once the seal had broken...

And although I had a very productive and successful rehearsal with the crazy bunch from AXXON on Saturday afternoon, it by and large consisted of me parking my kiester on my desk chair as well. So no great breaking into a cardio sweat there either.

Sunday we celebrated my old man's birthday the only way my family knows how - in style and strictly adhering to the tradition of "die ou poephol sal betaal". Lunch at the JC le Roux wine farm (ok, sparkling wine farm - I just didn't want to bring Toilet up) was awesome. It was pissing with rain and we were inside trying to talk over each other in ever increasing volume while killing a few bottles of red and plates full of oxtail. Just about perfect. Again, this involved a lot of sitting.

Yet I'm knackered! Perhaps I'm growing an aversion to work.

In other news:

1. Tarty Farty Tequila Party still hasn't done her man list.
2. DrHellCuz and co are headed down South for this year's Metal4Africa Winterfest. Should be entertaining...
3. I have now identified 4 different kinds of caterpillars in my plants, all of whom now meet a swift death upon discovery.
4. Cape Town (according to some report, bogus or not) is set to have a wee name change. To something only 7 living people can pronounce. Personally I hope it's a rubbish report. It probably is. If they'd intended changing the name of our beloved Mother City, by now it would surely already have been named Winnieville or Boesak Town.
5. A new form of hipsterism has just been confirmed as the trending Winnieville, erm, trend. You've got to sport at least 2 out of the three of the following tattoos: cherries, dice or an anchor, wear clothes that were last in fashion in the 50s (which, like all Boesak Town trends includes bad hats) and listen to unbearably drab, formulaic and unimaginative rip offs of Them Tornados or The Psycho Reptiles. [*At least Th' Damned Crows rock...]
6. I know I'm a little (ok, a LOT) behind the times, but David Thorn is my new hero.

Also - and I'm probably more guilty than most, but let's put that down to uncontrollable arrogance and narcissism - the damn internet has given the entire world a chance to spew forth their lopsided, uneducated, bandwagon opinions on EVERYTHING. Without taking the trouble to check out the validity of that which they condone or over which they express shock. I wish there was a "take the log out of your own eye before commenting on the splinter in someone else's" button - like a 'Terms and Conditions Apply' kind of thing. The emphasis obviously being on "log out". Dumb fucks.

And a great big sloppy HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to your and my favourite - the beautiful yet dangerous Rose Thorn for today! Looking good! We here at Monster Inc love you!

NGDG: "Can I put this tongue down now? Because I'm tired of holding it."

Spread The Love. And The Gospel Of Brian Setzer.

MAYONNAISE. VERSATILE.

Taking sunscreen a bit far?

Yes, EVERYTHING is better messy and when she's on all fours with her tongue out. It's a rule and a Universal truth. Test it if you don't believe me...

So welcome to your and my favourite day of the week. Yes folks, it's Irreverent Friday, except if you're Neal. Pity the weather in Cape Town is so wonderfully stay-indoorsy. Otherwise we'd be hitting the Town, painting it red, sniffing petrol tanks and playing chicken with Metro cops. Although the fun is summarily sucked out of any game you play with Metro cops the minute you realise they're the dumb bastards that didn't make the grade to become SAPS and are therefore not allowed to carry crowd subduing weaponry. Basically, they're not even qualified to sleep in their cars under a tree at lunch time.

It's been busy this week. You may have noticed my absence from the ether yesterday. Or more likely not. Boy, am I glad it's weekend. If I put a sea shell to my ear I can hear Gareth Cliff's nasal chant. Why do I suddenly crave Appletizer?

So what does everyone have planned for this, the end of the month Salti-Crax weekend? I have Axxon rehearsal, Rose Thorn's birthday and a Sunday lunch at JC le Roux. But tomorrow night you'll not see me. I'm staying in, cocooned away with the Hot Girlfriend and the world be damned. Pass the anti-wrinkle cream.

But nothing compares (nothing compares...) *Sinead O'Connor* to the excitement beaming from 2 great friends of mine, who are to be reunited after a lengthy business trip tomorrow. And for this, the latest "D'Aaaaaaaaw-Win Award" goes to the Vi-King and Sheik Yerbouti. Hope you two have a wonderful weekend.

So. Go do your thing. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Unless you're a girl. Peeing sitting down is always a good idea.
I think...
Um.
NGDG: "And now joining the ever popular line-up of Butt-rape Monday, We-need-this-yesterday Tuesday, Half-day Wednesday, Fuck-you-that's-why Thursday, please welcome Car-crash Friday."

Spread The Love. Under The Covers.

FISTING SPECTACULAR!

I'm doing research into how much the heading has an impact on how many reads I get per post.

Much like John Cusack's character in the classic movie 'High Fidelity', I am sometimes prone to list things. Actually that is an utter fabrication. Total rubbish. Truth be told, I'm more like an unfortunate amalgam of the two delinquent music fundis that work for him in the record store. But I needed something to introduce this, my Top 20 of My Favourite All Time Songs That Never Fail To Inspire Me Or Make Me Feel Better. Or Just Simply Happy And Content. More So Than Usual:

1. Better Than You - Swans
2. Mona Lisa, Mother Earth - Swans
3. 100 Years - Cure
4. Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division
5. Every Day Is Like Sunday - Morrissey
6. November Spawned A Monster - Morrissey
7. Take My Scars - Machine Head
8. One Last Goodbye - Anathema
9. Faith Divides Us, Death Unites Us - Paradise Lost
10. For You - My Dying Bride
11. From Darkest Skies - My Dying Bride
12. Can't Bee - Moonspell
13. Mutter - Rammstein
14. Edie Ciao Baby (Acoustic) - The Cult
15. Chord Of Souls - Fields Of The Nephilim
16. What I Am - Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians
17. Heavy Weather Traffic - Katydids
18. Amelia - The Mission
19. If I Had A Soul - V.O.D.
20. The New Style - Beastie Boys

This is not in order and is subject to change, but a lot of the tracks that mean a lot to me are in there. Go and have a listen to them if you feel like it, for your own edification or simply for your own nostalgic purposes.

Reminds me of that guy in the army that had a thing for Prince's 'Purple Rain'. The song, not the entire album, which has my favourite Prince song on it, 'Darling Nikki'. Anyway, snuggled cozily in the bleach-permed bosom of Bloemfontein, trying to make it through a year of avoiding the fucking morons with pips (and chips) on their shoulders or stripes on their arms, I found myself in a bungalow with a guy called Bennie. This cat had a little radio/cassette player. He liked 'Purple Rain' so much, he'd play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, then play it, then rewind it, you get the picture...

I, on the other hand, had a monstrous old-school ghetto blaster type of affair and one day had had enough of the artist who at that time would still become known as Symbol. So I upped the ante and the volume. It was entirely coincidental that I happened to have a copy of Paradise Lost's 'Gothic' album in at the time. This was not met with much approval.

To cut a long story short, upon arriving back to the bungalow later that evening I found all my possessions, including the boom box and my bed out on the gravel in front of the bungalow. And myself denounced as the bringer of the plague and taker of vestal virgins. It took some persuading and a threatening gesture with a golf club to be reinstated. I don't suppose the fact that I was trying to shag his girlfriend had anything to do with it...

Aaaaaah, mammaries!

And for those of you wondering about my leanings towards heavier, more intense music and why there is such a poor representation on the list above, it's simply that I didn't have space for such gems as 'Heretic Anthem' or 'War Ensemble' - I'll have to bring out a new and improved list at some stage. Just like Tarty Farty Tequila Party, who has yet to regale us all with laments about what women want. In a man. Or is it the other way around, I can never quite remember...

NGDG: "You haven't been to Nandos until you've been to Nandos Gandhi Square and seen a waitress wrestle a deaf vagrant to the floor for selling sign-language postcards to the patrons."

Spread The Love. Ain't Talking 'Bout It.

ETHICS... AND BOOBS. WITH SLAYER.

Yup. That'll do nicely...

Surprisingly, something I feel strongly about. The fact that a few beers generally is enough to wipe the moral compass from my mind has zero to do with it. I came across found a picture that was so superawesome I decided to use it for my daily blog pic, but after some consideration, decided instead to supply you with the link so that you could go to the artist's page yourself and see. I haven't got the time or inclination to mail and ask for permission, therefore I should not be allowed to use it. Now I shall have to go and look for something else altogether. I hope whatever it is I ended up putting there is worthwhile...

This is the picture I originally intended using:
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=189831154376959&set=a.189831121043629.56135.189799451046796&type=3&theater

Mainly because I like boobs and I know people who have a thing for tentacles.

Anyway, back to life, back to reality.

It's Tuesday and it still feels like Monday. Had a busy weekend, see. Between recording, writing, rehearsing and more recording, I spent roughly 12 hours in my studio. Then it was time to don the Don outfit and go to the fancy dress where the theme was "dress fancy". I had no idea all those skrammonks had such dapper threads. It was like a scene out of Bugsy Malone. Without the ice cream. Also in attendance were our favourite friends, Cuervo, Jagermeister and Absinthe. It was a fuck up. A glorious, glorious fuck up. I swear that flat does something to people once they're inside...

Sunday was a Double Dad's Day. Each event had a three course meal. I don't know if it was the hangover, the tiredness or the over eating, but I was finished. Op soos weeshuis pudding.

To cap it all off, LordDoom and UntilRecentlyKnownAsHalfPint bought me the David Thorn book. I can't put it down. I laughed myself to sleep the other night. How very goth of me...

Shit, I still have to find a picture.

Anyway, as if the weekend wasn't enough, I will be in studio tonight and tomorrow night. Big things they is a-happenin'! Do not change the channel.

Ok, I'm going to go picture browsing quickly.

Found it!

Good thing too, otherwise I might have been tempted to use this (NSFW). The Vi-King posted that link just too late. Phew!

NGDG: "Welcome the butcher's Muse. That bleached caterwaul, I refuse to spend money on, as she rebuffs the condom. But she'll tweetle her twaddle, hashtags our douchebags and say 'hey, them bitches got money'. And honey, that's inches enough for me."

Spread The Love. R - E - S - P - E - C - T.

TOUCHING YOU! TOUCHING ME!

Welcome back to your working weeks, everyone.

I don't know about you lot, but I think I've had enough already. Can't it just be Friday again? Actually I was fine and then the intrawebnets started lighting up like that SLAYER house at Christmas. The big buzz? Lady "I don't wear Vegan dresses" Gaga is coming to our shores. Accompanied by The Darkness and their own particular brand of schmaltz.

I remember being subjected to an entire weekend of The Darkness in Langebaan once. The band I was in at the time was away for a weekend and our beloved founder/guitarist had brought along "Permission To Land". In the strictly ironic (I assumed) way that metal heads the world over antagonise each other with novelty/crap music, he made us spend all weekend listening to Justin Hawkins' snaggle-toothed assertions that he indeed did believe in a thing called love. I turned to drink to make the weekend bearable and can't for the life of me remember much. This goes a long way towards explaining substance abuse on the road and general addiction.

Let it be said that in general I do not have a problem with any band or artist. It is when I am forced to listen to them against my will or when their popularity becomes a sign of the times that the ire starts to rise. My world does not include the likes of Justin Bieber. He is just some entity that does his thing on another plane of existence. The fact that he is so successful is a product of a consumer driven populace with a short attention span, and nothing to do with me.

Lady Gaga. Or Stefanie Germanotta, as her mother once used to know her. I detest acts like Marilyn Manson. The above notwithstanding, it gets to me when otherwise seemingly competent artists feel the need to resort to such sensationalist tactics in order to grab the attention of the masses. I detest them for what they stand for. And what they stand for is a willingness to embrace the tacky, turgid and terrifyingly shitty in order to be noticed. The masses demand that extra effort. My only gripe is that the extra effort is not channelled into a better musical product, and instead channelled wholeheartedly into turning themselves into a fucked up caricature of themselves. If Lady Gaga spent half as much time on her music as she does on wearing Mzoli's on the red carpet, who knows what she'd be capable of in a recording studio...?

But I am getting away from my point here. And that point is: Justin Hawkins and Lady Gaga, you may be playing a show together in South Africa, just please for the love of all things holy, do not make a baby.

The world is not ready for that.

NGDG: ":I found two steak knives protruding from the lawn at the folks' place yesterday. Drunk neighbours? Kids playing ninja, or the Palestinian resistance has finally reached its nadir."

Spread The Love. I Believe In It. It's A Thing.