The champagne is on ice
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The main thing I want to say here is that I am leaving for Australia on Wednesday morning so I want you to hold on tight until I write my first article for you from Melbourne. You will remember I have access to a suite at the exit of the pit lane at the Australian Grand Prix. I never went last year but did the year before. It's the only way to do it. Air conditioning, champers, little angels running around - it's good humour.

I leave on Wednesday morning and spend a day in Singapore along the way, to see if my Asian friends have created any new toys I desperately need. If they haven't, then I will be quite upset. I mean they can't really call them "sweat-shops" then, can they? Impress me, Singapore.

I also want you to think about a couple of things.

Firstly, something that has been bugging me - if a car-guard looks after your car in an illegal parking spot, do you still have to tip him/her? Interesting...

Secondly, I am NOT going to watch Brokeback Mountain. I'm certainly not homophobic, but a movie about gay cowboys just doesn't get watched ahead of something I know I like and will watch again. The same goes for Million Dollar Baby - I'm just not going to watch it. Ever. I will die having not watched it. I'm fine with that. A friend who I trust as a movie advisor told me I could slit my wrists by the end. That's just not my scene.

Speaking of sexual orientation and slipping into guy/girl chat mode, a chap came up to me at the 2006 Blog website Awards and said he read my site very often. I told him I wasn't surprised - I am informative, hysterical and particularly intelligent. That, combined with dashing good looks, makes me hard to ignore. Jokes aside, the chap asked me, quite seriously, if I was a chauvinist. After asking him three times if he was joking, I got one of my henchmen to beat him. Seriously though, I am amazed that he took his very limited time with Seth Rotherham to ask something so dim-witted. Do I seriously come across as a chauvinist? What a pity if I do. I thought it would come across in my writing that I absolutely totally and utterly adore women. Oh dear, the message is lost on some of you. As Ricky Gervais said in The Office, "How can I hate women?.....My mum's one". Hilarious.

So no, freak show, I am not a chauvinist. Please God, if they have to come up so close, please send me semi-intelligent ones.

I decided to get a security gate put on the Camps Bay apartment door. IT was organised by the same guys that took four hours longer than they said they would to install the alarm in the apartment. I arrived home and noticed that Mavis had left for the day. She took the key to the new security gate with her. Good one, Mavis. You're giving it a good go today. I listened carefully, hoping I would hear Ashton Kutcher running towards me from around the corner with a TV film crew. No, I was not being Punk'd. Then I received a call from one of Seth's Angels at the office in Mouille Point advising me that Mavis had just brought the key to the office.

Oh

my

shattered

nerves

It's a good joke this time, Mavis. You've done well. When exactly did you have Microsoft Outlook installed into the iron, allowing you to see what my diary is looking like? You're taking quite a chance locking me out of the apartment and mosee'ing down to Mouille Point at 3pm, ASSUMING I am there. Did you not for ONE FUCKING SECOND think there was a chance I might not be there? And OF COURSE there is no airtime in your phone to call and discuss. Could you not have hidden the key? In the garage perhaps? The garage that we BOTH have keys to? Don't assume, Mavis. Look at the spelling of the word "assume". It makes an ASS out of U and ME.

And you ate a slice of my pizza in the fridge. Are you on drugs, Mavis? There is perfectly good Woolworths bread in the fridge for you and Marmite in the cupboard. But nooooooo, that's not good enough for Her Royal Highness! Why should a woman who has a steady supply of Giovanni's spaghetti and three ply baby-soft toilet paper have to subject herself to such simple tastes? Heavens no!

Not only did I have to request a Seth's Angel to bring back the key to the apartment, but I also had to get my head around the gate the people had installed. I am absolutely finished! I have never seen anything like this in my life. It's like I'm living in a comedy. Allow me:

Are you fucking kidding me?

Stop it.

What?

I'll leave it at that. I'm quite exhausted. I'll write again from Melbourne. But possibly before. I'm not sure. I'm a little confused at the moment. Is this the Truman Show? Am I Truman? Why are you people playing this game with me?

Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com
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