New lipstick shade well received by 2oceansvibe [permalink]
Christina Aguilera has made a very welcomed change from her trademark red lipstick and is now sporting an absolutely gorgeous shade of pink.
And so:
A Lighter Shade of Pink
We skipped the light fandango
I turned Christina across the floor
I was feeling kind of seasick
The crowd called out for more
I was getting harder
As the ceiling flew away
She called out for another lipstick
The waiter brought a tray
And so it was that later
As the miller drank his drink
That her lips at first just blood-red
Turned a lighter shade of pink
No kidding! Arnold's Restaurant, 60 Kloof Street, Gardens, Cape Town [permalink]
Look, they HAVE hiked the price up to R7 from their initial launch price a number of months ago of R6. We won't have a go at them for that. You're still able to use car guard money in your ashtray to pay for 2 eggs, 2 slices of toast, 2 strips of bacon, 2 slices of grilled tomato and ostrich wors. I know, you're probably a little bit thrown now. You're probably wondering what the catch is? Don't fright, it's all very simple. I've been going there for morning meetings with The Marketing Guy for ages and it just keeps on happening.
Another nice thing about Arnold's Restaurant on Kloof Road is the staff seem to know you. They understand what you want. They don't get confused and they smile. There are three or four 'hosts' in the restaurant cruising around helping out. They're big guys who scream and shout from every corner of the restaurant to the other staff and the kitchen - great atmosphere and the food comes out at lightning speed.
Try it for yourself - you know we only choose the best for you.
A few of you probably did a double take when you heard KFM morning show's Nic Marais (the intelligent person's morning show of choice) confirming that the song that just played was Paris Hilton's new single, 'Stars are blind'. You stopped and thought about it - trying to work out how the last song went. You couldn't quite remember but you know that you enjoyed it. And then, slightly slower than Pavlov's dogs, you eventually work out that the little unobtrusive reggae-island-style sounding song that you have quietly been bobbing your head to for the last two weeks, is actually her song.
A PICTURE MOMENT FOR THE GIRLS. Matthew McConaughey pics
MATTHEW MCCONAUGHEY
Magically. Slowly. Gently. Evenly. And then HARD HARD HARD. [permalink]
And here it is. With his tan, wavy hair, six-pack and stubble. Matthew McConaughey is running in the waves with a cute dog. It's all quite amazing. He is wet as well, from the ocean. He is very down to earth, funny and intelligent. Imagine him holding you close, from behind...whispering in your ear...telling you how beautiful you are. Then he nibbles on your ear lobe. But then his phone rings and it's his personal trainer, Kate. He puts the phone down and looks at you...deep into your eyes and tells you he has been fucking Kate for two months.
In the sky. As they fly. And sometimes cry. But never shy. [permalink]
Now that the sport has finally taken the necessary technological advancements, we are sadly no longer treated to stories of kitesurfers being launched out of the water across busy roads and into 5-story high hotel walls. They have now come up with a clever 'release' system on the harness. Shit, there's a good idea! So now you aren't strapped permanently in your harness to a large kite which has been made to fly high up into the sky with whatever force mother nature decides to whip up at that particular moment. You now have the choice to stop. Thanks for that - what a treat.
Seriously. I'm fine.
Where is this incredibly insightful information taking us, you ask? Let me tell you. Local kitesurfing magazine, Gust Magazine, is teaming up to bring a massive party and DVD launch on Saturday 29 July at Ignite in Camps Bay. It is the world premiere of the Snapshot Kitesurfing DVD and entry is free until 21h30 (DVD screens at 20h30). Now, I don't know if you are aware of the kitesurfing fraternity. It's an expensive sport and everyone is hot and oozing sex. Its the mix Cape Town adores. Everyone is hot. They also fly in the sky. Like birds. Like superman. Like pie...... in the sky. (Sorry about that)
Snapshot - it's BOUND to be the name of a 'move'
Whether you're going for the DVD or the party, just make sure you get there - it's going to be crazy. Gorgeous angels EVERYWHERE... dancing.....frolicking. And for the girls there will be hot men with incredible accents and jawlines with the inability to be anything other than down to earth.
All info and more details can be seen at the DVD launch website.
Lingo lesson number 127: Surfers call body-boarders "door mats". Kitesurfers call surfers "Worker Ants". Get it? They use their arms..... to paddle..... instead of the wind. I hope I didn't have to tell you that.
It's more than just a website kids. It's a lesson in life.
Can't talk, gotta run. It's blowing 25 to 30 North West at "Brain's corner". I'm going to grab the "10" and pump it!
SICK!
RAD!
MONDO!
UPDATE: WE HAVE JUST GOT IN TOUCH WITH OUR SURFING BUDDIES AND SOME OF YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED TO KNOW THAT KELLY SLATER HAS ASSURED US HE WILL ALSO BE GOING.
To assume Vanity Fair magazine is strictly a women's magazine indicates a certain level of ignorance and naivety - that of which I would not be proud. A quick browse through the magazine will certainly produce women's advertisements, but on closer inspection one will find the odd men's fashion or car ad. Vanity Fair magazine has always been in my top three magazines in the world list and consistently produces a level of journalism, class and insight that has earned it global acclaim for many years. Certainly a million leagues ahead of our local South African magazines which consistently produce articles that can only be compared to my Afrikaans language oral I repeated every year at school - the one about my pet goldfish. By matric I didn't have to say it any more, my Afrikaans teacher just gave me the class average. Dankie Meneer. Vanity Fair shares Seth's top places with the likes of Wallpaper Magazine and Esquire (again, to assume Wallpaper is strictly an architecture / interiors magazine shows a good dose of close mindedness). Not that one should be ashamed of reading women's mags - nay, on the contrary, I have always found that a browse through the Cosmo's of the world has produced some valuable insight into the workings of the fairer sex. Knowledge of the the new Burberry check or Revlon's new colorstay lipstick can be very useful when putting an angel at ease. Asking a girl if she has any Elizabeth Arden '8 hour cream' instead of 'lip-balm' will always help making in-roads. Referring to an 'ex-girlfriend' after a statement like this is encouraged - thus eradicate any gay suspicions (not that I have a problem with gay people, some of my best friends take it up the arse).
On the subject, dinner with The London DJ has produced a new saying that I would like to market. When one is very impressed with something or someone, one is "gay" for it. Let's use it in a sentence. For example if you're very keen for pizza.
"I am so GAY for pizza right now".
Or if you feel like going to the beach - "I am so GAY for the beach right now".
It's brilliant - use it.
So the main reason why I mentioned Vanity Fair is two-fold. Firstly I wanted to say that a quick jog over to the Vanity Fair website allows international clients (including South Africa) to subscribe to the magazine for R240 a year. Now bearing in mind that this magazine normally costs R135 PER MONTH at Exclusive books as an import, this is QUITE a saving. I'll go even further and say that this allows you to have Vanity Fair delivered to your door for LESS than what it would cost you to buy the SA GQ magazine off the shelves every month for a year. I'll let that sink in.
The second reason why I wanted to talk about Vanity Fair was because their latest issue over here (Hilary Wank on the cover) has (besides a brilliant article about how surfing took off in 1950's America with names like Miki Dora) an article on a 9/11 conspiracy theory. Having recently been in New York I am becoming more and more perturbed about the 9/11 case. I am also more and more concerned about the New York cops and firemen who we will have to chat about in another article because they are, quite simply, in another world. Now, being an avid VF reader I can promise you that conspiracy theories are NOT something that they would EVER publish. For them to consider something like a 9/11 conspiracy theory, it would have to be pretty concrete stuff. And I tell you what - it is! So much so that I am now prepared to hand it over to you. The article talks about a new video that is going around the intraweb. Some kids in the States have made a video to do with the 9/11 disaster. They use actual news footage and clean cut facts which raise some solid questions which need to be answered. The video (called "Loose change") is just over an hour long and can be viewed at www.loosechange911.com. Check it out - it's incredible stuff.
As we enter into the last couple of days of the 2006 Strengthening Ties Tour, we allow a brief moment to reflect. We think back to special moments. My time in DC was brilliant. The PR Guy made good on his promise to give Washington a good spanking. We certainly did. Again I found a city whose inhabitants don't believe a word that their president says. Funny how these educated states all seem to agree.
London has been swell with a helluva heavy night on friday night which saw us drinking Dom on the house at Kaberet (merci Steve) and leaving at an obscene hour. The Australian Popstar was loads of fun and we certainly didn't mind sharing our table with her crew. The Interiors Guy was astounding that night.
I thoroughloy enjoyed the Mercedes Benz motorcade that took us to the box at the new Arsenal Emirates stadium to watch the Bergkamp Testimonial which, apart from the Arsenal and Ajaz sides, had a list of football legends playing including Viera, Henry, Ian Wright and more. Big thanks goes to The Ambro Guy and The Centre.
I think that will have to do for now. Obviously the article creation rate will increase once I return on Thursday. I will use this time to pray to God that someone in South Africa brings the Love Island series over the South Africa.
cnr. Crosby and Lafayette, Soho, New York City [permalink]
Hello my little lambs! Did we miss Seth? I think we did! I think I know some little boys and girls that missed Seth very much. Well don't fret, Seth is here now. Here to keep you warm. It's 30 degrees outside and I am stationed in a Starbucks. Here's a little pic for you to get a whiff.
Yes, Seth uses that new tiny Sony Vaio that you've always wanted
The iPod is on random and has just started playing 'Beautiful Girl' by INXS, which I'm fine with. It's a radical change from the previous song which was 'Falling into you' by Celine Dion. I don't mind playing songs like that - I find it particular amusing that I am listening to Celine Dion without anyone knowing.
Touched down at JFK on Friday morning after a one-night-only appearance in London with The Centre at a new club called 'Chateau 6'. Check it out - quite enjoyable. London will return to Seth's life on Thursday, but for now it's 30 degrees in Manhattan and air con is a good friend of mine. I must just mention that I think it's slightly hilarious that one of the top clubs in New York is called Bungalow 8 and now someone has opened a club in London called Chateau 6. We should open one is Cape Town and call it 'Ikhaya 7'.
Been spending some time with The Stockbroker who welcomed me to the deck above his apartment yesterday (Lafayette and Spring) for a tanning session. I wasn't sure if I was on a movie set (as one often does in NY) as I stepped onto the rooftop. I was presented with fake lawn, a hammock, a kid's blow-up pool, pot plant trees all round, deck chairs, The Doors playing through the iPod speaker system and........
.....wait for it......
.....a midget.
Yes, that is correct. A MIDGET. The Stockbroker said the midget was included in the rent ( the midget is the brother of a neighbour) and comes and goes at random times. Random surprises. The whole time. We agreed that he (The Stockbroker) was very lucky and shouldn't take the midget for granted. He says he doesn't and admits that he makes the most of it when the midget is around - clearly aware of the impact it has on new guests. Further background produces astonishing results. Apparently he (the midget) is trying to make his name as a DJ - currently spinning on a raised platform in a strip joint downtown. He has been known to bring back hookers three-at-a-time to the apartment next door when his sister is out of town.
Are you getting this shit?
'Pancho the Bull' - a famous wrestling midget
Not too dissimilar to The Stockbroker's midget.
Moving on, British Airways lost my bag which was only returned two days later. It wasn't the end of the world as it just meant that when I landed, and the two days after that, I would have to buy new clothes to wear. Banana Republic and French Connection catered for my underwear needs and the rest was split between a range of what-a-prick designer labels. Naturally a fuss will be made and British Airways will be compensating for the clothes. Not the worst situation.
Shopping and drinking and eating with The Ad Guy and The Italian has been sprinkled with laughs, hangovers and general hysteria. Highlights include seeing a man fall off his bicycle. That wasn't the highlight though. The highlight was the (no spice) 2 fire engines, 3 ambulances, 3 cop cars and 5 cops dealing with the situation.
"STEP BACK FOLKS" is what the cop shouted at us as we walked past. He stuck out a straight arm to hold us back - similar to that of a rugby clothes line tackle. The vibe given out by fire guys and cops in this city is something to behold. Their post-9/11 attitude is a combination of an obvious want to be spotted for a movie and a thirst for drama. I'm not in movies, I can't help you with your acting aspirations. Relax, be yourself.
I am very happy with the New York girls on this trip and am weighing them up against the English roses that I was reminded of during my brief stay in London on the way here. I think I could handle an American. But for now the English Roses are taking top spot.
I think it's time for lunch at Balthazar now. I'll get back to you later. I'm taking the train to Washington tomorrow to be shown around and impressed by The PR Guy. Back in London on Thursday for a particularly exhausting weekend with the Rugby Coach, The Insurance Broker, The Hooker, The Interiors Guy and much more.
Be good.
"HEY, TAKE IT EASY!!!!! I'M WALKING HEEEEEERE !!!!!!"
The Investec gold card certainly has its perks. I'm talking other than that of its main role - a facility to blow more money. One gains access to the Premier lounge at Cape Town airport. A great place to laugh at people who take the lounge very seriously.
Anyway, I am here now. 18h37 and primed to board a flight to London to begin Seth Rotherham's "Strengthening Ties Tour 2006". For the new readers, The Strengthening Ties Tour is about spending time with the good ones in various cities around the world. It will form a chapter in my great book which will be a plan on how to do things. General things.
Ok, so I'm hitting London for the day on Thursday, only to leave on Friday for the city that I put on the map, New York. New York from Friday to Monday and then Washington for Tuesday and Wednesday. After that it's London from Thursday the 20th to Tuesday the 25th.
In terms of going out, there are a couple of pre-organised nights. We're talking Friday night at Bungalow 8 in New York. The following Friday will be London's Kabaret, followed by Bouji's on the Saturday. I thought we should all make an effort to get together on Sunday at P&P in Fulham for old and new times sake? If you're around any of these aforementioned establishments then I hope to see you there.
I think that's enough for now. Fuck you Premier Lounge for only having J&B and not Jamesons.
2oceansvibe has become addicted to Nelly Furtado's song, Maneater. We are nostalgic and excited at the same time. We think back to the original 'Maneater', sung by Hall and Oates. Yes, you heard me correctly. They were called 'Hall & Oates'. Let me show you a little picture of our boys.
Seriously, we're on the guest list
I know. Don't say anything. Just enjoy it with me.
Anyway, you might remember that tune went something like, "Ooooh here she comes, watch out boy, she'll chew you up. Oooooh here she comes..... she's a man eater". Don't remember? Skip to the next paragraph.
But now we have a new version that makes me breakdance on the spot. If there isn't room to breakdance then I simply bounce on the spot with my right arm extended straight up with my index finger pointing to the sky.
Nelly eats men for breakfast
I know you all want to know what she is saying in the new chorus. So here it is:
Maneater, make you work hard
Make you spend hard
Make you want all, of her love
She's a maneater
make you buy cars
make you cut cards
make you fall real hard in love
She's a Maneater, make you work hard
Make you spend hard
Make you want all, of her love
She's a maneater
make you buy cars
make you cut cards
Wish you never ever met her at all!
In a recent interview, Nelly Furtado admitted to taking a secret trip to Cape Town where she wrote the song. She would like to thank the private school Constantia mothers and daughters for their input.
The TBG makes one lucky guy's birthday [permalink]
It is always a life changing experience when people strike it lucky and get to meet the TBG (Tall Blonde Guy) - let alone when they manage to get a photograph with the great man. But it is a particularly rare occasion when someone's moment with the TBG coincides with their birthday. Such a gift on one's birthday would surely be close to a miracle.
Robbie S from Cape Town sent this in.
This is what he had to say:
The day did not begin well.
I was struggling to come to terms with my 35th birthday and how the hell I had come to already be halfway to 70!!
During the day everyone was sweetly calling and wishing me their best for the day and the year ahead. My family was planning a tea party mostly in aid of the kids scoffing cake and sweets in my honour and friends were planning my drunken downfall in the pub later that evening. I had been really spoilt by my mates at work with some incredible gifts and things were really starting to look like being 35 might not be so bad after all!
So with work finished, we all arrived at our local watering hole, Cafe Verdi - our home away from home in Chelsea, Wynberg. I walked in anticipating all the regulars would start shouting obscenities about old age and thrusting drinks in my face, but then it happened....
There was a clear perceptible drop in the temperature, and the breeze blowing over Chelsea village suddenly felt a lot cooler. The room went silent. Even the birds that had been chirping outside minutes earlier, had all flown to their nests.
In front of me in the flesh....
A thin halo of light surrounding him......
On MY birthday....
THE TBG!!!.........
Yes, I kid you not..... I can almost hear you gasp as you read this...
THE FRIKKIN TBG....... on MY birthday!!
But wait it gets even better. The TBG got up from his bar stool (which is now engraved at cafe Verdi and no-one may sit on it ..... ever again) and glided over to me, with his palm outstretched.
"Happy Birthday Rob" he said, with a smile that lit up the whole room.
What wise words! What an insightful understanding soothing tone. I no longer felt old, it was as if the touch and the voice of the TBG had washed away all my fears and replaced it with a warm appreciation of life.
As if he could read my mind (he probably could) he took me to stand in front of the framed picture of Verdi to commemorate this auspicious occasion with a photo together.
As you will see from the photo, I am trying to lean in just to feed off the radiating glow of the TBG, behind us is a portrait of Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi. Do you see how Verdi pales in comparison to the might TBG?!
Who cares if Verdi was the most influential member of the 19th century's Italian School of Opera - did he ever have a picture taken with the TBG!? I think not! I can almost feel Verdi's eyes boring into the back of my head with jealousy!
After a drink, the TBG vanished ( the beer glass is now engraved at Verdi and can not be drunk out of......ever again). He probably went off to go and make someone else's day incredible.
It was a truly remarkable sight and one that will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it.
Thank you mates for making this happen!
Thank you Lord!
Thank you TBG!!
Robbie S
UN BE LIEVABLE!
Robbie S, that is one of the most touching, amazing TBG sighting I have ever read. You are incredibly lucky and God has blessed you. I am close to tears now and need to sign off.
The Plett / Knysna weekend [permalink]
I stayed in Plett during the Knysna Oyster Festival and, thinking back, there are other issues I want to raise - besides the actual festival and the fuckfest that is Crab's Creek on the Saturday night.
[We pause, briefly, for a picture of Seth's view from his Plett house]
Very cuck
The issues I am referring to have to do with the Knysna area and its inhabitants. I want to know why so many weird things happen in Knysna. For all its beauty, Knysna also tends to come across as a muddy, tree people inhabiting, satan worshipping haven for murderers.
Something happens every year I go up to Knysna. There is a particularly long, dark stretch of road between Knysna and Plettenberg Bay - a stretch of road that is flanked on either side by dense forest. There are no settlements for miles and no streetlights whatsoever. In a word, it's fucking terrifying. And somehow, every year, I get freaked out by the same thing. It happened this year again - the strangest thing. I was driving along the Knysna Plett road with some friends at about one in the morning and we saw a man in a trench coat walking along the side of the road. He wasn't looking for a lift, he was just walking with a bag in his hand. He was staring straight in front of him, plodding along in the pitch black night. Bizarre!
Where was the man going? What was he doing there? Why wasn't he looking for a lift? We were honestly petrified for the guy. We decided that there was no way in hell that the man would make it home alive. He would either be hit by a car or killed by 'tree people'. The guy must have been terrified. But then it dawned on us - the guy wasn't scared at all! Why? Because he was a serial killer! He was OBVIOUSLY carrying body parts in the bag and was about to dump them in the forest. He wasn't scared at all! Because serial killers don't get scared of other people! They just kill them and dump their bodies in forests!
The next day we were discussing the strange things that go on in Knysna (just go to google and search for 'body found in Knysna' or 'Knysna murder'). The kitesurfer told us about the time he went around the back of an establishment in Knysna to take a pee. The establishment was situated alongside a railway line. He spotted an old unused railway carriage and inside it was a family of tree people. A mother, fasher (I want it to be spelt like that) and two kids. None was taller than 4ft5inches. The kitesurfer said the family had unusually large feet and the mother was squatting over an empty margarine tub. He says it was like something out of a freak show. He wanted to tell us more but he was close to hurling.
Back to the weekend..... we took control of Plett's flagship nightclub, V.I.P. (which stands for Vegas In Plett. Seriously) on the Friday night and enjoyed our time with the locals who have no alternative but to trip on ecstasy on a daily basis. The VIP room in the club is called 'The Viper Room'. There were no VIP's to be seen, unless you count Sasha Martenengo.
Saturday night gave us the Crab's Creek spectacle (you might remember last year's article) which was absolute mayhem. Again we had to endure exchanging our real money for Crab Dollars. The money is in the form of a perforated sheet of different denominations of Crab Dollars. Like a sheet of stamps. Ordering a drink at the bar was close to suicide. I went with a friend and remember at one stage being caught in a helluva compromising situation. We were squashed together as close as two human beings can be squashed together. We couldn't move for about two minutes. My friend's hand was now stuck between us - in front of my crotch. We were being bumped from the front and from behind and realised that, in essence, I was fucking his hand. Not ideal.
Chicks were hammered, guys were pissed and it was freezing cold. The embarrassment with the pink woolen hat on was as annoying as usual. God, you are painful.
We got to our car and as we were climbing in we heard a voice.
"Excuse me"
We were parked in an area below the road. We looked up to see two Knysna teenagers looking down from the road. Their hair was gelled forward and they were wearing tracksuits and gold chains.
"Yes" I muttered
"Where are you guys going", asked one of the youths.
I realised that this was a defining moment. I had to lie. If they found out we were driving through Knysna to Plett, they would have asked for a lift. If we gave them a lift then there is no doubt in my mind that they would have pulled out weapons and sodomised and killed us. They were clearly satan worshippers and were probably on TIK.
"We're driving literally to the end of this road", I lied.
That's when the Englishman shouted from the back seat of our car. "ZANZIBAR!" - referring to where we really wanted to go - the name of a bar in Knysna.
I leant into the car and told the Englishman that he better keep quiet before his body gets sacrificed.
The two youths were staring now.
I looked up at them - "That guy is smashed, he doesn't know what he is saying. We're going to the end of the road where my friend has a caravan. Sorry."
I don't know where those guys were going, probably Phantom Forest or Phantom River or Phantom Acres (all actual Knysna names), but we managed to get away from them. I hopped in the car and I'm sure I heard the one chap utter the words "you're lucky".
It's a beautiful place, old Knysna, but there is weird stuff going on that people try to ignore. The tree people element is just the beginning. Bored teenagers is another. TIK is another.
Be careful out there, folks. And don't give lifts to wired, bored teenagers.
Gets you a headbutt [permalink]
Finally we have some insight into what caused Zidane to headbutt Materazzi in the final of the 2006 Football World Cup. There are two versions. There is the hard core version which has been put forward by professional lip readers - then there is the other version that Materazzi is claiming. Obviously we believe the lip readers' versions. I am happy to report that the insult that sent shockwaves around the world was a classic 'mother joke'.
Apparently it started when Zidane insulted Materazzi's mother, who died when he was very young. Not bad..... we'll give that 7 out of 10. But then Materazzi replied that Zidane was, in fact, the "son of a terrorist whore". Now, bearing in mind that Zidane's mother was ill and had been admitted to hospital only a few hours earlier, we have to give him 10 out of 10. Mother jokes with a 10 out of 10 score can ONLY be sorted out with a headbutt. Fair enough.
As temperatures rise in New York [permalink]
Its pretty hot in New York at the moment so it's understandable that our favourite skank finds it necessary to air herself from time to time. She was obviously particularly hot at this point.
Warning: This is QUITE incredible and DEFINITELY NSFW.
Click to enlarge.
And rat face [permalink]
US Weekly magazine are in a spot of poo for releasing these pics which were apparently stolen. Apparently they're from Brit's private collection. Pity they didn't get the ones where Britney pretends to be a cat as she chases a naked K-Fed around the house, maximising his rat resemblance - similar to that of a lot of cyclists that you see on the roads here. That pinched, rat face.
For me, the big thing about these pics is to be able to see inside Brit's private jet - you start to understand the attraction for K-Fed. God, look how un-in-love he is. What a revolting individual.
For the girls... [permalink]
It seems as though Mat McConaughey is pretending to be at the Knysna oyster festival. But he is actually in Costa Rica, getting smashed after breaking up with Penelope Cruz. It makes sense, I suppose. We won't chat about the quality of the girls he is playing with. Nor will we chat about their strange ears.
A recent music video that will shock and amuse [permalink]
Nothing can prepare you for this video. The Hoff is clearly (h)off the charts at the moment. This music video was made recently - you can tell by (a) his face, (b) the style of the girls' hair and clothes and (c) the fact that there is reference to both Knight Rider and Baywatch.
You will laugh out loud - I am warning you.
The Hoff is clearly losing the plot. He is currently going through a decidedly messy divorce, as well as behaving particularly badly. A recent report had this to say:
David Hasselhoff's eventful stay in London continues; now he's been slung out of Wimbledon for being drunk. The Hoff was apparently off his face and as he tried and failed to get into the players' bar actually said DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M THE HOFF. A few days ago, he severed a tendon in is arm after a bizarre accident at his hotel off Oxford Street. He apparently slipped while shaving and a chandelier fell on him.
He is losing it. And we enjoy watching it unfold. Enjoy the video
That was an actual news headline [permalink]
We've chatted about this before, about journalists INSISTING on using the word 'fingered' in headlines when referring to people identifying or pointing out others.
I mentioned in a previous article: Now I know what it means to finger someone, but I think we know that it brings about laughter every time it is used. To identify someone or to point someone out can NO LONGER be described with the word "finger". It just can't be done. I am very sure there are people out there who think it is perfectly normal and makes perfect sense, which it does, but why risk it?
Hans Pienaar, who writes for IOL, clearly doesn't take his job very seriously. He used the above headline in a June article. Using the word 'finger' or 'fingered' is distracting enough, but Hans thought he would use it in a headline which also contains the word 'sex'.
"SA PEACEKEEPERS FINGERED FOR SEX CRIMES"
What are you trying to prove, Hans? Are you telling me that it didn't cross your mind that your headline was fucking ridiculous? Do you really think so low of your job as a journalist that you're happy for people to laugh and snigger at your headline? And please, Hans, DON'T tell me that you have never heard of the word 'finger' in a sexual context.
Can I tell you what MOST people thought the moment they read your headline? It's pretty obvious, Hans. They pictured SA peacekeepers being probed from behind with a pair of digits. After all, the punishment should match the crime. They are guilty of sex crimes and they should be punished sexually. How many years will they be fingered for, Hans?
Well done, keep it up.
*It is understood that the headlines are often dreamt up by sub-editors and not the actual journalists. I don't think that makes any difference whatsoever - any journalist with half a brain would have their sub-editors chage the headline after they've seen the likes of the one in question. Personally I'd have my sub-editor fingered for at least two years.
What would your name be if you played for Brazil? [permalink]
I have got so much time for crap like this. Someone has gone and made a Brazilian football player name generator. Finally you can tweak your name to make it sound like one of those cool one-name football legends.
Finally we are rid of the pain that is Tim Henman [permalink]
There has been mass discussion of late as to what will become of 'Henman Hill' at Wimbledon - the raised piece of earth outside the Wimbledon Tennis arena where spectators perch themselves and watch the matches on a big screen. It seems they have found a solution - thanks to the Scotsman, Andy Murray. They're changing the name to 'Murray's Mount'!
Whaaaah! It's too special for words!
Please dear God make the name stick because it will be too ridiculous to keep the name of the most jinxed English sportsman.
The article I found refers to the 'day that Henmania died'. Shame, I do feel sorry for them. There never was Henmania, my darlings. He never was good enough. You were clutching at straws and I think deep down inside you all knew he would never win at Wimbledon. You should never have named it Henman Hill because you would ALWAYS line yourself up for this awkward moment. God, it's awkward. It's so sad. And pathetic.
Good luck, Murray - enjoy the pressure next year.
Here we see Timiny, wearing his trademark gum-guard.
*Cough* camel toe *cough* [permalink]
Wow, have a look at these awesome new pics of Maria Sharapova! I never knew she had such an interest in animals, in particular the ships of the desert. Click pics to enlarge.
As we welcome the second half of the year [permalink]
I know, I've been quite distant lately. But it's nothing to do with you - don't blame yourself. I think I know what has caused it. You see, a week or so ago I popped into Harley's liquor on Buitengracht Street (defiantly open on Sundays) to top up on the stock of Jamesons at the safe house. I have the Skyy vodka for the good times, but I need the Jammies for Sundays - particularly Sunday nights. Harley's had run out of Jamesons and I had no option but to buy Johnny Walker black. I don't hate it, but it doesn't allow me to churn out the drivel that you're used to. Don't blame me, blame Harley's. Anyway, I went back today and it seems they have sorted out their stock take issues. Welcome back Jammies. God it's smooth. 'Triple distilled' is obviously a good thing.
It seems neither e-TV nor MNET won the Sunday night 8 o'clock movie war - with MNET giving us 'Taxi' with Queen Latifah and e-TV farting out 'The 6th day' with Arnold Schwarzeneggar (is that racist?) - both of which create as much excitement as a tray of stuffed eggs. I have settled for a new DVD I bought - Billy Joel live at the Yankee Stadium..... an absolute treat.
"Oh my God! I ALSO love Billy Joel!!!!"
"Whatever..."
Speaking of food, I had another perfect breakfast at La Cuccino at the bottom of Suikerbossie in Hout Bay (turn left at the lights at the bottom then it is a part of the small shopping centre on your right) - and I felt they needed a mention. I had gone twice before with G-man and thought I would tempt fate and see if they could succeed three times in a row - a rarity in Cape Town. Take a bow, La Cuccino.
Ok, that was a bit dramatic. "Take a bow" - Christ, give me a break.
Seriously though, I just felt so content at the end of my meal. I've only ever eaten the same thing there - poached eggs, toast, bacon, grilled tomato and grilled banana. I know, grilled banana is not what you're used to for breakfast and certainly not something that I would normally allow. I can't stand banana on pizza and the thought of banana served warm generally makes me nauseous - but it seems to go down a treat at La Cuccino's. It's not just the banana that makes me happy - it's a combination of everything. It's all good. They even have a fridge section with sauces and home made deli-style products. I bought the Harrisa chili sauce that has been warmly received at the safe house.
They seem to have a good following and on closer inspection appear to cater for a diverse crowd. On your left you've got your new-Audi station wagon couple who 'feel bad' about leaving Romeo, their Ridgeback puppy at home, and on your right you've got four early-20's angels with Chanel dark glasses on - nursing post trance party come-downs. I am told that weekdays produce an orgasm of bored, hot Range Rover housewives (including the Constantia private school mums I'm sure - the kind that'll give Heather Mills a run for her money) - something I intend to investigate. None of Hout Bay's tree people were anywhere to be seen - not a bad thing. Don't give up on making Hout Bay a republic, guys.
Shame.
Ok, I think that's enough for now. The Jammies is taking it's toll and Billy is about to sing Piano Man.
Oh it really is a pity that Seth's 2006 Strengthening Ties tour just misses this party - because its got everything a person with discerning taste would want. Live acts, oil wrestling, DJ's and slaves. Yes, slaves - you can buy your own slave.
They're promoting a party which combines two things we like - filth and decadence. They insist on the exposure of bikini lines and suggest that you may, indeed, have your cake AND eat it. Check out the website at www.getfilthy.blogspot.com for information and instructions.
The party is on July 15. Tickets are 20 quid and it is essential you book immediately - only 250 tickets. PLEASE do it for me. PLEASE take some pics for me.
CLICK THE IMAGE to see the full invite including map, directions and instructions on how to get tickets.
The cool thing about this event is it's organised by friends of Karl van der Leeden who is fighting multiple sclerosis. He is currently undergoing stem cell therapy in Holland and the party has been put together to raise funds for his treatment. Karl is an ex-provincial tennis player, model and advertising graduate - check out his incredible story here.
So there you go - not only do you get to be as filthy and decadent as possible - but you get to feel good about it the next day!
Click the flyer above for directions etc.
or call Alistair Vlok on +44 79 5001 6754 or email alistairv@gmail.com
Some of you may need to detach yourselves from your angry post for a little if you want to appreciate this next clip. It's a three and a half minute clip of Hilts walking from a nightclub to her car. She is walking with her buddy, Brandon Davis who, granted, strikes me as a twat. Now, although Brandon Davis spends the entire video in front of the cameras ranting and raving about Lindsay Lohan (and the fact that she has a "fire-crotch"), I think there is more to enjoy in the video.
Hilts really amuses me in this. She walks behind him the entire way, covering her mouth as she laughs hysterically at what he is saying about Lindsay Lohan. On either side of her are bodyguards keeping paparazzi and others away from her as she stumbles along the sidewalk to her car - there is a vomit of camera flashes going off around her at all times. It really is a sight to behold. I mean, for me it's just hilarious thinking that this shit actually goes on in the world - that this shit actually happens - it's mind-blowing! And Hilts really does make me laugh in this. Then she falls into her Mclaren Mercedes and floors it (honestly - flat out) into the night.
Whaaah! It's all so obscene it has to be funny! You have to laugh at her - just for getting away with it all.
Good girl.
Now come here.
Come sit here.
Have we been a little naughty?
I think we have.
I think I know a little girl who is going to get a little hiding.
Our friends, the Dirty Skirts, are playing a gig with Taxi Violence at the Independent Armchair Theatre on Friday (tomorrow 30 June) at 9pm. We'll be there. Will you?
