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?
It was not three days ago that I was first informed that there would be no Tri-Nations rugby played in Cape Town this year. I didn't know quite what to say about that. I don't know how the rules work with regards to venues for the Tri-Nations but, to be honest, I am pretty gob smacked. I guess you just always assume that they would want, or even insist, on having a game played here in the Mother City. I mean, really, it's quite nice here - we've even got Robben Island where Francois Pienaar spent 27 years, so that he may save the nation and end world hunger. I'd go so far as to say that we owe everything in our lives to Francois Pienaar. Really, it's true. Ask him yourself....
Anyway, I was slightly upset about this Cape Town issue when I found myself reading over a particularly interesting email. The email mentioned something about a very well organised event that is going on in Cape Town during the Tri-Nations. What they are offering is a big screen live screening for every Tri-Nations game at Marimba Restaurant at the Cape Town Conference Centre. They've gone further than that - there will be hilarious (no doubt alcohol-infused) live discussions between the likes of David Campese, Nick Mallett, Rob Fleck, Rob Kempson and Corne "Adrian" Krige*. The people's favourite and Cape Talk's very own life-blood and poster-boy, Dan Nichol, will be hosting the event and offering his own special brand of low-blows. I have interacted a number of times with a few of these individuals and can confirm that the banter will be nothing short of hilarious.
I contacted the guy organising the event so that I could get the information to you - Seth's much loved 2oceansvibe readers. Yes, that's you angel. And you........big guy.
'Tri' means 'three' - because there are three countries participating.
You're thinking of 'try' - which is when they score with the ball.
Ok, here is the deal:
Depending on the time of the particular game, the event will include a powerhouse breakfast, brunch or lunch (don't know if you've been, but Marimba definitely gets the thumbs-up) with the necessary tea/coffee and fresh juices. All events will start an hour prior to kick-off with questions and answers before the game, at half time and after the game.
Sports Illustrated will be giving away a smorgasbord of prizes at each event and, YES, THERE IS A FULL BAR AVAILABLE AT THE RESTAURANT FROM WHICH THEY CAN RUN COMPANY TABS! So you CAN get smashed!
It's actually a very cool event for companies or groups of mates.
To make a booking call Brianon 073 477 8560 or 021 423 2792 or email brian@complete.org.za - I'm sure it wouldn't harm to tell him you got his details from 2oceansvibe.
It's a bloody good deal for R485 (ex VAT) person for lunch, or R410 for breakfast. I'm busy putting a table together myself. There are 12 tables of 12 available for each game.
*picture Rocky shouting "ADRIAN" to his wife from the boxing ring (in the Rocky movies) - then think of Krige's head popping out the arse end of a ruck, shouting to another player. He looks like Rocky shouting "Adrian"..
Britters did it the other day but we didn't show it because she looks revolting at the moment... but now Hilts has gone and done it. I don't mind, to be honest. Say what you want about the little skank - no matter how many times she flashes her vagina to the world and no matter how many joints she smokes or stupid things she says - she's still a sexbomb.
Taking property listing sub-headings to a new level of bullshit [permalink]
I am sure we have all had a chuckle when reading through the local property ads - in particular at the sub-heading for each property. The sub-heading is there to sum up the property. The estate agent wants the potential buyer to read into this one, simple sentence. They invariably invite a particular brand of cheese into the equation. They go from the staple "The perfect lock up and go" and "Seeing is believing" to the ridiculous "That little gem you've been looking for" or "Welcome home!". You can only imagine the triumphant fist-clenching punch into the air that was given the moment our hero came out with that little pearler.
I have just been paging through The Property Magazine June 2006 and, having wanked over the social photograph pages, have just had a good look at the 'property for sale' section towards the back of the mag. I reached a Jawitz Properties double-page spread and began reading the description of a property in Hout Bay. I stopped, mouth agape. Estate Agents are aware of there being a limit to the amount of spice one can add to a sub-heading. They know they can't lie, but they can stretch the truth a tad. It seems as though Jawitz properties are moonlighting as spice merchants because I think they are fucking pushing it when they say (of the Hout Bay house):
"Own the best address on earth!"
Ummm. Sorry?
The best address on earth?
That's a big call, if you ask me! I think you've spiced it a little bit there, don't you? I swear to God that it is NOT the best address on earth. I'll give you another address that is voted an even better address on earth - Clifton - and that's around the fucking corner! We haven't even left the continent!
Please don't be silly.
Have your fun. Talk crap, spice your headline - But please, for God's sake, don't be totally and utterly ridiculous.
I feel bad telling the migrant workers out there still at work that I am currently chilling at the safe house, overlooking the mighty Atlantic, with a cold Cobra in my hand. I don't know why I have so many cold Cobra beers in the fridge, but they're there and they're fine.
So it's a beautiful Friday afternoon in the bay and because I love you all so much I want to tell you about something that has me...., well........tickled. Oh yes, Mavis decided to leave me a little note. This is what it read:
Not coming to work Monday
Going to see doctor.
Cheers
Mavis
Now, besides form the fact that she is not asking me, but merely informing me of whats going to happen, I am quite taken by her confidence at the end of the note. "Cheers", she says.
CHEERS !!!!!
Like we're fucking buddies!!!!
"Hey, fuck, no problem, Mavis - as long as you give me a high-five next time we walk past each other in the living room!"
No wonder her Royal Highness feels so compelled to help herself to the sugar and the triple ply baby soft toilet paper!
I received an email from a friend of mine, George, who is currently touring New York. He said he saw the most bizarre thing just yesterday. He was going up an escalator and David Hasselhof was coming down on the other side. The sequence of events were, apparently, something to behold. George had this to say:
"...but the spiciest thing was that he was being such a fool - literally can-can dancing down the escalator, then jumping off and pretending he was a cop (like a child) - cupping his hands into a gun and pointing it at people at the bottom. Incredibly incredibly spicy."
Well, having actually visualised that, I am a complete mess. What is going through The Hoff's mind? This brings up a topic that I have been throwing around for a while now - Is The Hoff aware that we're all just really joking? Does he know that we're just pretending to be in awe of him?
I don't know if he does - take that escalator ride for example....
Nonetheless, I was talking to my muse, The G-Man, and he suggested another example of someone unaware of the teasing - William Shatner.
Shatters
The ex Star Trek hero has come a long way and sort of lost his footing a bit. There is definite humour attached to William Shatner presenting a show on TV - no matter how serious the content. G-Man mentioned William Shatner having an album out which was created in the 70's. Apparently he recorded himself speaking the lyrics to songs - rather than singing them. I knew there were a couple of websites left on the intraweb that I had not seen, and we did a little search for all things bright and shatner. We found what we were looking for. After we listened to him doing Mr. Tambourine Man, we found something quite extraordinary..
Ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy William Shatner's rendition of Elton John and Bernie Taupin's 'Rocketman'. The clip starts (quite seriously in those days) at the 1978 Sci-fi awards with Bernie Taupin presenting Shatner's apparent genius. Brace yourself - you have NEVER seen anything quite like this.
Don't say anything. Just turn your computer off and go home.
I did my Woolworths shop today. I bought the full range of Slimmer's Choice microwave meals. I got all sorts of zero fat cottage cheeses and two different flavours of rice cakes. I bought grapefruits, pineapples and apples. Not a carb to be seen....
I came home, ate a combination of the above and went to the loo to throw it all up. I don't know what I'm doing wrong though, because I can't seem to get my figure down to that of Nicole Ritchie and Kate Bosworth shown in these recent pics. How do they do it!?
Most of you should be aware that Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards have been going through, what can only be described as, a messy divorce. Charlie has subsequently been in the papers for all kinds of things ranging from his obsession with a 9/11 conspiracy theory, to his outlandish behaviour with prostitutes and internet dating sites. He refers to prostitutes as "pro's" and also gets girls he meets on the net to wear school uniforms and perform various extreme acts. Fair enough.
Charlie and Denise - during happier times
Today I thought I would focus on the transcripts of some messages that Charles left on Denise's voicemail. You cannot help but laugh. The guy's addiction to anything and everything is quite evident. In one message he ends off in a rage calling her names including a c*nt, n*gger, dick face and asshole. Jeez, Charlie, why don't you say what you REALLY think.
Makes for some excellent reading. Fun for the whole family.
A friend of mine (and 'the people') in the States (United States, not the Orange Free State), Simon K, was sent a gift in the form of a monster sized bottle of Tabasco sauce. Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!Look at the size of that puppy!
Tabasco - for big men and women all over the USA
He felt that I, having won the best blog article for the previous Tabasco article, would appreciate the pic. I do, Simon. And so do the 2oceansvibe community.
God, imagine how many portions of food you could make taste the same with that beast! Mmmm.
Supermodel Victoria Silvstedt has hooked up with what can only be described as a circus performer. The diminutive I-have-no-doubt multi-millionaire is clearly making the most of the situation and is enjoying fantasies most men have had about Victoria Silvstedt. Namely, planting one's head into her crotch and 'straightening' her costume for her.
He's doing it for the team. He's doing it for all men, and dwarves the world over. Click for bigger pics.....
James Stewart, a very good friend of mine and one of South Africa's top musicians will be presenting a showcase of his immense talent in London on Thursday, June 29.
For those of you don't know, James first rocketed to fame with one of South Africa's greatest bands, The Usual. Working on his own stuff now, James is producing some big hits - including 'Shine' which is being playing anywhere and everywhere in South Africa including TV and radio. I've included a download of Shine, below.
James will be performing a showcase set for record company execs on June 29 from 6 - 8pm at the 606 Club, 90 Lots Road, Chelsea, SW10 0QD. (see www.606club.co.uk for directions)
Admission is free. So if you're in London and you're in the music industry, do yourself a favour and get involved - these opporunities don't come around every day.
It is a little known fact that Patrick Swayze sang one of the numbers on the Dirty Dancing soundtrack - the hit 1987 movie in which he starred as Johnny Castle alongside Jennifer Grey (Frances 'Baby' Houseman).
Johnny Castle must be one of the funnier 'sounds-cool' movie names that we've ever had.
Incidentally, roman-nosed Jennifer went on to have a nose-job which promptly ended her career as nobody recognised her. Fact.
Jennifer Grey, before and after committing career suicide
Back to the point of the article, Patrick Swayze actually sang the song "She's like the wind" on the soundtrack. You should have another listen to it because it is nothing short of hysterical. You might remember the first line, "She's like the wind, through my tree".
THROUGH MY TREE !!!! Brilliant Paddy!
Anyway, here are the lyrics for the rest of the song - get hold of it, you have to have a listen.
Patrick Swayze - the man - the icon
SHE'S LIKE THE WIND
PATRICK SWAYZE
She's like the wind through my tree
She rides the night next to me
She leads me through moonlight
Only to burn me with the sun
She's taken my heart
But she doesn't know what she's done
Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look in her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind
[SOLO]
I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she'll stop the pain
Living without her
I'd go insane
Feel her breath on my face
Her body close to me
Can't look in her eyes
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind
Feel your breath on my face
Your body close to me
Can't look in your eyes
You're out of my league
Just a fool to believe
(Just a fool to believe)
She's like the wind
(Just a fool to believe)
Just a fool to believe
(She's like the wind)
Just a fool to believe
(Just a fool to believe)
She's like the wind
(Just a fool to believe)
Just a fool to believe
She's like the wind
(Just a fool...)
(She's like the wind)
(She's like the wind)
(Just a fool...)
(She's like the wind)
(Just a fool...)
With tomorrow being a public holiday, I thought we could have a quick competition today!
Fairweather membership card
Chrome obviously have no idea how important I am and decided to issue me with a 'Fridays' membership card. This allows the holder to skip the queue on Fridays and gain free access to the club, with room for a couple of friends. It does not allow any access to the VIP area whatsoever.
I am obviously at the arse end of a practical joke and would rather have no card at all - thank you very much.
So, there you have it - a competition was born! The winner will receive Seth's Chrome wank off Fridays membership card.
What do you have to do to win it, you ask?
The winner will be the first person to email me the name of the restaurant that serves the worst oysters in Cape Town.
GO !
UPDATE - CONGRATS JULIA R ON WINNING!! The correct answer was "Blues Restaurant".
I'm just going to put these pics over here. You can look at them if you want. I'm just putting them down here. I'm just leaving them over here. They're just some pics. It's Christina Aguilera. You can click them to enlarge. If you want. I'm just leaving them here. It's no big deal.
I'm pretty sure I had a picture with the TBG. Was I blessed with his presence?
Daren
Well done on the effort, Daza, but the answer is no. No, you did not have a picture with the TBG. And, no, you were not blessed with his presence. You have completely and utterly fucked up. The real TBG is a beautiful man. The blonde fellow in the photograph is but a child. Too young to fully cope with the burdens of being the TBG. Carrying the World's love inside you is not the job of a child. It is a man's job. A man whose image can virtually burn a hole through a camera's retina. A man with such an aura that nuns have even been caught, dry humping his leg. Furthermore, the blonde boy in the photograph is holding a pair of braai tongs. Don't be bloody ridiculous! Do you think the TBG BRAAIS? People braai FOR the TBG - the TBG braais for NO-ONE.
Now, I mentioned earlier that this TBG sighting is particularly upsetting. I say it is upsetting because Daren's excitement in the photo is so real that it can only be soul destroying to find out that his excitement should come to naught. A fake TBG. A false TBG. An evil TBG - not THE TBG.
Stop smiling, Daza, and start crying. Curl up in a little ball and beat your head with your fists.
Take off your beanie and beat your head now.
That's it.
You have not met the TBG. Maybe you will....... maybe you won't. But for now you haven't and your life is still empty.
There must be a jism of ex-pats in London who have been wondering what the hell Goldfish is all about. Well, wonder no more my sweet angels. Goldfish are coming to you. That's right! Don't move an inch! They'll be in your neighbourhood (somewhere along the District Line, no doubt) on June 23rd.
So go to your little English diaries in your little English office and, in your best English accent, make a little English note - June 23, Goldfish, live at Zulus.
Over the last couple of years I've heard a lot of people mentioning various "fantasy leagues". I remember hearing about some football fantasy league competition sometime last year. I had no idea what it was about and I didn't stop to find out - but I know one thing, the people talking about it were pretty excited about it. "Losers", I decided. Pretending to be team managers. Shame on them. The only fantasy leagues I like playing in are the ones with two blondes, two brunettes and a tub of haagen dazs.
But then I got an email in my outbox (I love it when people say they received an email in their 'inbox', where the fuck else will it be? What if Outlook was hung over that morning?). Sorry about that. I received an email from a guy in the UK, telling me about Fantasy Rugby. I realised that all of the ignoring and blocking out of fantasy leagues over the past couple of years had finally come to this - I would now have to find out what this is all about - particularly since it came from a 2oceansvibe reader who, as you know, are the most treasured form of God's people. I started from the top and went to the dictionary to look up the exact definition of the word 'fantasy'. I got the following:
An imagined event or sequence of mental images, such as a daydream, usually fulfilling a wish or psychological need
and
A coin issued especially by a questionable authority and not intended for use as currency.
That second definition is completely genuine and I think we have all learnt something new today. Interesting. So I kept reading and investigating, even though I don't like coin games. It turns out Fantasy Rugby has NOTHING to do with coins whatsoever!
After closer inspection I understand COMPLETELY why people get so excited about sport fantasy leagues. Well, I have only looked at this one, www.rugbyfantasy15.com, and it's brilliant. They have made it to work beautifully with the Tri-Nations rugby tournament which starts 8 July, 2006.
So this is what I have found out......ok..............before the tournament starts, you must pick 5 players from each side. For those living inside a vacuum, that is 5 players from South Africa, 5 from New Zealand and 5 from Australia. The players you select for your team will be scored depending on their performance in the tournament taken from post-match stats. Varying points are scored depending on things that your players do in their respective games. eg. points for tries, tackles made, line breaks, turnovers won, lineout takes etc. Negative points for bad things like knock ons, missed tackles, missed penalties, missed lineouts etc.
The people who created the website have commissioned 'Optasports Data' to put together the various stats for your players after each game. I'm sure you've looked at the game stats on TV after a game and wondered "Who the fuck counts all of that?" - I'll tell you right now, it's these guys! They're the leading supplier of sports data and stats in the UK and you can leave it to them to watch your players.
You get a budget to start with and you can move players around when there are injuries (maximum 3 a week), so be careful.
Anyway, there's more to it so go and check it out at www.rugbyfantasy15.com - I've already started choosing my side. It costs only £5 to play - (free until the 14th) which pales in comparison to the prizes these guys have put together. Enjoy a quiet £5,000 for the winner - in cold hard cash. Mmmm. Think of all the shallow little coke whores you could lure with that kind of loot! There are also radical prizes if you don't manage to get the top spot. Trips to London and Cape Town and cash worth thousands of Pounds. No, look, it's a good package these kids have put together.
Enough, I'm just here to point you in the right direction - check it out at www.rugbyfantasy15.com
People come up to me the whole time asking stupid things like, "Oooh Seth, is it true that you have the power to heal? Are you going to end World hunger", or, "Oh my God, Seth! Please can I buy your sperm so that my child will have the power to heal and cure!".
Please, please, stop it! I am not superman and I do not have the power to heal. I'm just a normal guy. I just write articles about people and things. I'm not one of the guys out there. The real hero's. Out there raising funds for orphans....
Like 2oceansvibe's very own Harry "The Hitman Hazza" Simpson who completely cleaned up at the Boodles Boxing Ball last weekend. Earning himself cult-like hero status and sex on tap from most of the starlets found traipsing around the winners circle. I should also mention that whilst Harry was getting his end away he also managed to raise over R50,000 for the SOS Children's Charity. You might remember the article I wrote requesting our readers to get involved with this fundraiser.
To those readers who did get involved, thank you. 2oceansvibe thanks you. Harry thanks you. The orphans thank you. And I have no doubt that the little starlets are more than thankful for Harry doing his 'bit'..
Sounds like quite a good night. I see the Windsor boys also stopped by to support. Good effort, boys. Read more here
New research shows cult following of lunatic psychos [permalink]
My iPod has a myriad of songs on it, ranging from the classics to cheesy pop, with an emphasis on Laura Branigan. That was a joke.....in a way. Moving on, I like to cater for all types and there are many CDs ripped onto my iPod that may not be my cup of tea. That said, I did at one stage rip a Gabrielle Greatest Hits CD. I must say, I enjoy her song 'Dreams' (can come true...blah blah blah) and it is also essential to have a number of Gabrielle songs for the Gabrielle Brigade (those girls who mention Gabrielle FIRST when asked to name their favourite artists). I used to think they were harmless. That was until I put my iPod on shuffle mode and it stumbled upon the Gabrielle song "When a Woman".
OH MY GOD !
Does anyone have any clue whatsoever about the messages Gabrielle is sending to women the world over? Listen to this. I was plodding around my pad, doing the usual stuff (probably feeding the Cambodian pre-teens in their cages whilst they churn out flip flops and wooden giraffes to be sold to tourists in Camps Bay) and, I heard the following words coming out of the iPod:
"when a woman wants her man, she'll catch him any way she can
I'm telling you I got a master plan
I'm gonna get you boy, make you my man"
"She'll catch him any way she can" is what bothers me there. Gabrielle is breeding psycho's. She even calls it her "master plan"! Jesus! And then she goes on to threaten that she is "gonna get you boy" and "make you my man". Jesus, you fucking lunatic! What kind of message is she sending to the women out there? But there's more! Enjoy this little fantasy she has:
We pull up to a red light
Check the mirror for the last time, I know I'm looking just fine [ok, give it a break]
And I feel alright, cause I know I'm gonna party tonight, yeah baby [all seems fine, so far]
(chorus)
Walking through the party
With all my girls behind me [she's a fucking narcissist - why mention all her girls behind her?]
(yeah)
Suddenly I saw him, my heart it started jumping [poor guy]
Then he led me to the dance floor, then he held me closely (so closely baby) [why add in 'so closely baby'? - psycho]
Then he whispered softly, will you be my one and only
My only girl [what are the chances?!]
(chorus)
When a woman
When a woman
When a woman wants her man
Are you telling me this is not a breeding ground for female psycho stalkers? Gabrielle is sending completely the wrong message. You can imagine them on their beds with their headphones on, singing along to Gabrielle, really LISTENING to Gabrielle. At the end of that song, they actually believe that these things happen! They believe that they can walk into a club and the guy of their dreams will dance with them and ask them to marry them. RIGHT THERE AND THEN!
IT DOESN'T HAPPEN LIKE THAT GIRLS!
GABRIELLE IS IN FUCKING LA-LA-LAND!
Evil High Priest
I'll tell you what really happened to Gabrielle after the song was finished. The guy took her to the loo at the back of the club and gave her a bloody good bonking. Then he lied to her and said he had to leave because he had to visit his gran in the morning. He gave her a fake phone number and left with his mates to go to Maverick's strip club where he spent two grand.
Gabrielle cried for the next two weeks and her friends visited her and watched DVD's and ate chocolates until she turned into a house.
After a month Gabrielle saw our boy walking from his car into a shop. That's when she turned into a fucking psycho. She wrote "BASTARD" and "PRICK" in colour-fast MAC lipstick all over his car. Then she followed him home and spent the next week sending him threatening letters until he caught her sleeping in a bush outside his house - with mascara running all over her face. That's when he called the cops and got a restraining order.
That's what really happened.
Good luck with the next chick that tells you that she LOVES Gabrielle! My advice - get the fuck out of there..... FAST.
As he borrows notes from George W Bush [permalink]
I have purposefully steered clear of articles slamming Telkom, as it's all too obvious - to a point that it becomes boring. It's like writing articles about how badly the taxi's drive - "Well, gee, what incredible insight!". In fact, one of the only mentions I have made about Telkom in recent history was when I said that you can use the word "fuck" when explaining the spelling of a name to the Telkom phone operators - and they don't bat an eyelid. Now that's fun.
But today is different, because today I am commenting on Telkom CEO, Papi Molotsane who has indicated that he, no doubt, counts George W Bush as one of his major influences. It is not often that you find a CEO of a national company coming up with explanations that mirror that of a 5 year old. Keep in mind that this was at a presentation of Telkom's financial results, a forum that you think would call for a rehearsal of sorts. Maybe even some notes, at the very least. Enjoy this:
"If we do not keep pace with technology, we will die a slow death,
and we don't want to die because we want to keep on living."
- Papi Molotsane, 2006
You're absolutely right, Papi! Staying alive is EXACTLY why we don't want to die. And there we were thinking that we didn't want to die because we would no longer have access to Fashion TV! It makes so much sense now!
But don't get upset with me. I have been quite busy today. A friend of mine has invited me to her birthday which is being held at her running club. She has asked me very nicely to please make my delicious stuffed eggs for the special event. So that's what I've been doing. Nearly done now...
"Pammie, Would it be too much to ask if you
could make your STUNNING stuffed eggs?"
I don't think there is any need to write a lead up to these pics so I'll just let you have them. They're yours! Take them! Both of them! Go for it! Go for tit!
Click each pic for big image, with nothing in the way..
Thanks again to Francois Pienaar
for spending 27 years on Robben Island
This sound clip is just something to behold. Taken from a local radio station where they obviously had some sort of a competition which required entrants to give their best impressions of a Formula 1 pit crew mechanic.
Well..... they were blessed with a phone in from one of our very own Cape Naturals. Absolutely hilarious! Enjoy his chirp to Michael Schumacher near the end of the clip - priceless.
Even better............ regular readers will TELL YOU that I sometimes publish lyrics of songs on 2oceansvibe (that's where you are now). Very true, I do. And today is one of those days. I have felt compelled to give you these lyrics for quite some time. You see, I only choose songs that I myself want to know about and, because you are a part of me, you want to know them too.
Today, I give you 'How Bizarre' by the one hit wonders, OMC. I know you want to know the words. You never QUITE knew what they were talking about. But don't fear - this is our gift to you. And for further insight I will tell you that OMC stands for 'Otara Millionaires Club'. I know, I'm a wealth of knowledge.
And now... :
Nothing short of hilarious
Brother Pele's in the back, sweet Zina's in the front
Cruisin' down the freeway in the hot, hot sun
Suddenly red-blue lights flash us from behind
Loud voice booming, "Please step out onto the line"
Pele preaches words of comfort, Zina just hides her eyes
Policeman taps his shades, "Is that a Chevy '69?"
How bizarre
How bizarre, how bizarre
Destination unknown, as we pull in for some gas
Freshly pasted poster reveals a smile from the past
Elephants and acrobats, lions snakes monkey
Pele speaks "righteous," Sister Zina says "funky"
How bizarre
How bizarre, how bizarre
Ooh, baby (Ooh, baby)
It's making me crazy (It's making me crazy)
Everytime I look around
Everytime I look around (Everytime I look around)
Everytime I look around
It's in my face
Ring master steps out and says "the elephants left town"
People jump and jive, but the clowns have stuck around
TV news and camera, there's choppers in the sky
Marines, police, reporters ask where, for and why
Pele yells, "We're outta here," Zina says, "Right on"
We're making moves and starting grooves before they knew we were gone
Jumped into the Chevy and headed for big lights
Wanna know the rest? Hey, buy the rights...
How bizarre
How bizarre, how bizarre
Ooh, baby (Ooh, baby)
It's making me crazy (It's making me crazy)
Everytime I look around
Everytime I look around (Everytime I look around)
Everytime I look around
It's in my face
Radical.
As an aside, I must make mention of the fact that I sang 'Simply the best' by Tina Turner at Dizzy's karaoke night in Camps Bay tonight. I've decided to be the "Tina Turner guy". I want to create an enigma of sorts.
What am I doing drinking and singing Tina Turner on a Tuesday night? (it's a joke, mum, I was fast asleep - I just like to pretend). It's worrying times like these that I turn to my friends and ask the question, "Where the fuck are all the parents?". How can we POSSIBLY be let loose like this?
Ok, that's enough. Beddie byes....
There is a good chance that next Tuesday will feature 'Private Dancer'.
[Warning, due to Seth's mood at the time, this story contains a fair deal of expletives]
About a month or so ago, a friend and I were confused by one of the first cold, wet days. We realised we hadn't programmed ourselves for plan B (winter). Plan B comes along every now and then. There are two kinds of Capetonians:(1) Those who ruin their summer worrying and preaching about the impending doom and when winter finally arrives they're thrown into an apocalyptic fit and get ill and yearn for summer. And, (2) those who look out the window every winter morning to see if they should now, perhaps, wear shorts - or more to the point, should they wear jeans AGAIN! The latter folk are not familiar with the timings of the seasons.
In conjunction with the second kind of Capetonian comes the option of plan B which is, really, a fresh idea to deal with the current 'strange' weather.
[by the way, the seasons don't get capital letters. (More here). And, you can start a sentence with the word 'and' ( More here).]
So it was suddenly cold and wet. We decided the obvious thing would be to go to Franschhoek for the day. We had visions of us tasting wines and flirting with German angels on tour.
Instead we found ourselves watching a Super 14 derby game at a semi-chain bar / restaurant. Hilarious. We accomplished absolutely nothing! Excepting for the fact that we stumbled upon one of the most amazing individuals that one can come across in this diverse nation of ours. He was sitting at the table next to us with two other guys. The white, insecure, loud, mid-20's guy who has mistaken one of God's favourite valleys for a Sandton City cappuccino outlet. I thought I was being punk'd. He was one of those special ones who talk loud enough for the entire room to hear - we certainly could. My friend and I listened, mouths agape, to the bullshit pouring out of the simpleton's revolting mouth. If I may.......
"Well, I'll say one thing..........money is bloody cheap at the moment"
Oh my God! Are you serious? Who talks like that? Money is 'cheap at the moment'? Jesus! Who are you? Are you a puppet of sorts? Why don't you regurgitate pi for us?
Needless to say the guy was wearing a thin long sleeve polar neck (you could even use the term 'turtle neck' in this case, to improve the story).
(With apologies to Animal)
So anyway, the clown carried on, very much regardless. And then it happened. Well, HE happened. He happened upon the "coffee culture" that has struck our nation. FUCKING COFFEE MADNESS BRU!!!! Fucking get me a LATTE bru! Fucking skim milk, dude! Fucking cappuccino tomorrow morning at 8 and I'll bring my portfolio CHINA!!!!
[We're losing it. Seth needs a moment to compose himself]
Ok. Sorry about that. So, knob-end starts to get into the topic of how addicted he is to coffee. God, that's cool! Fuck, you're interesting! Easily beatable though. I've been throwing up after meals lately. Bulimia beats coffee addiction! I win, A-hole.
Seriously though, the guy launched into it. And then, like magic, he gave us the most amazing pieces of bullshit I have ever witnessed in my life. He said:
"Seriously, it's fucking radical...... I spend about R300 a day on coffee"
[pause]
Shhhhh. Don't say anything yet. Just let it sink in..............R300 a day on coffee.
Take a deep breath. I have.
SO YOU'RE SAYING YOU SPEND R9,000, AFTER-TAX A MONTH ON COFFEE???? YOU'RE A FUCKING LIAR, AND, MORE IMPORTANTLY, A FUCKING IDIOT!!!! Really, you are SUCH an IDIOT! Who made you? Imagine if your parents were here? They would spit in your eyes. Honestly, what is going on in your little head? I want to work you out. What is going on in there? What is wrong? Were you taken off the breast early? Give me something. Give me ANYTHING!
And please, for God's sake, remove that REVOLTING turtle neck!
I've been doing various exercises with my brain today and have come up with some stuff. Before I go on, angels, can you get me a cup of coffee please. Thanks.
Ok. So. It was a process. I've been wearing my new hat today. Well, it's not really a hat - it's more of a bonnet. I'm not wearing it any more because earlier on, the craziest thing happened - I realised there was a bee trapped inside my bonnet. I know.....terrifying. So anyway, I desperately had to find out what the first song was that Robbie Williams sang at his Cape Town concert. I went through all the songs on my iPod (30 gigs, black - the new one.) and I couldn't quite place which song it was that he sang first. I began by doing a little google search but, although the son of a famous rock pianist, I couldn't remember what the words were for the list of song's that an artist sings at a live gig. Embarrassed, I sent an sms to G-Man. He confirmed that the words I needed were "Set List". Yeeees, of course, I said to myself.
I pumped google with the search terms it needed and I was told that the first song Robbo sang was "Radio". I searched my iPod. Well blow me backwards, I didn't have the song at all! I went straight to my iTunes to buy the song. Although you cannot buy songs over iTunes with a South African credit card, I have developed a system. I call it "Mother Dearest". I registered my Mother's Australian credit card to my iTunes. So she pays for the music for me. I know, genius! Notice how I have overcome two obstacles here. Firstly, I am not blocked from downloading songs - I simply tell iTunes I am in Australia and, secondly, I don't even have to pay for the songs! (Love you, mum).
I hope you enjoyed Seth's sensitive side back there with the comment to mum. I'm a real person, guys, with feelings. And asthma.
[Completely coincidentally, we pause for an incoming call from Mother Dearest. Shame, she is phoning from on board the cruise ship in Monaco shared with the likes of Nigel Mansell and Murray Walker. Apparently there is a formula one car placed above the pool on the 10th deck. Marble bathrooms, personalised stationary in the suite etc. Hmm, so that's what they're up to.]
Mental note - Monaco Grand Prix on Sunday.
So anyway I download the song "Radio" from iTunes - DYING to be reminded of which song it was. The reason I had this bee in my bonnet (these things often happen when I do exercises with my brain) is I remembered very clearly that I was absolutely fucking blown away when Robbie belted out that first song at his concert in Cape Town. I remember asking fellow audience members if anyone knew Robbo's age. 32 was what I was told. I replied that I "still have time". The guy next to me laughed. Yeah, pal, we'll see who's laughing when Seth goes live at Green Point - I'll send you front row seat tickets and at the concert I will shine a spotlight on you and sing a song about when you didn't save someone from drowning, even though you could have. Then we'll see who is laughing.
Master Williams
Back to the story, I downloaded the song.
[And now we pause for something completely different: Quick fact - it is fucking cool to moan and groan about the Huey helicopter if you live on the Atlantic Seaboard, particularly Camps Bay and Clifton. "Christ! That FUCKING huey!" (Don't be shy to actually step outside and glare up at the helicopter, shooing it away with your arms as you tell it to "PUSH OFF!"]
Sorry about that. So I downloaded the song...... Well, SUCK ME SIDEWAYS! It all started to come back to me. I must admit, I was impressed. I haven't been impressed with someone since the early 90's. It is such a top song - particularly live - particularly as an opening song. Have another little listen to it. The song also happens to be on the Robbie Williams CD on 2oceansvibe - CLICK HERE FOR THAT
Right, moving on....
"It's amazing how the temperature suddenly drops at night!"
Yes, the weather really is turning!"
"I know! blah blah blah...."
Seriously though, I am currently freezing. I simply HAVE to get a heater at home. Angels, could we organise that please? Does nobody love Seth anymore? Please come into my office so we can discuss whether to get an oil heater or something else. Whatever uses up more electricity is what we'll get. I'm not playing into Eskom's hands. Fuck 'em. And while we're at it, please also get a hot water bottle. I think as an only child I am entitled to one. It's also good for sleep-overs.
Ok, I think this article is good to go. Let's wrap it up.
It's true that I frequent Caprice in Camps Bay more than the average person. Circumstances have allowed Caprice to be the nearest cocktail bar / restaurant to my place of residence. You see, God has blessed me - and I will shamelessly punt Caprice until I can punt no more. This is not the first time, nor is it the last time.
Cappers
I must make mention of the fact that I am in a semi emotional mood at the moment as I have set the iPod to play Bilitis by Francis Lai. If you don't know it, it is QUITE moving. My folks played it since before I could walk.
I'm back on the scotch now. Ok. Caprice.
I'll start by saying that many people don't know that Caprice is not all about Sunday nights. Granted, Sunday nights is, was and always will be their signature night - but don't knock a breakfast, lunch or early evening drink any time of the week. It's not all about the mad party - Caprice is also tailor made for chilling out. Caprice is perfect for every mood. Great for Saturday morning breakfasts. If you're hungover or not in the mood, they understand. You can't be in your underwear on the bar counter every night of the week. If you want attention, they give it and they understand your insecurities. They are like you. They understand you. In fact, I'll tell you what.... Fuck Spur, Caprice has a taste for life.
And last night was no exception. Caprice owner, David Raad, deserves a gold medal. Not only is Dave an accomplished closet break dancer (previous article mentioning his skillz can be found here), but also a true embodiment of service. So last night was a Camel party at Cappers. Wow! I'll say one thing, the angels came out VERY nicely last night. A VERY naughty mid-week party! I see the two blondes who seem to be joined at the hip were there again - the last of the Mohican's - waiting for their ride to come through town. Don't worry girls, he'll come. All over your face, in the back of his laundered Lambo.
More scotch.
So last night was a haven of excitement. All the guests were given "dollars". Each one equated to 10 South African Rands. Because I felt I was far too important to stop at the front door to sign in, I did not receive my dollars. I sent a sms to Dave who appeared next to me at the bar, stuffing dollars into my jeans and introducing five blondes to me whilst the bar lady had already begun pouring ten tequila's in front of us - all at the same time. Dave told the girls they should thank me. For what? God only knows. The point is Dave is a fucking legend and he runs a good show. Blues restaurant could learn a thing or two from one of Dave's farts. Caprice is the institution Blues was in the 80's.
Even more brilliant was a facility for the partygoers (first time I've ever used that word 'partygoers' - feels weird) to go up and have their picture taken. There was basically a full on developing service on the premises and each photographed patron would get an A4 print of themselves on the cover of a magazine! But the mind blowing thing was not that. No, no. What really struck me was the name of the magazine was '2oceansvibe'.
Nothing short of hilarious.
So that's what this article is all about, really. Cappers. Ignore the idiots. Enjoy yourself. Look around, you're in a good place. The staff are hysterical. Someone for everyone. The moaners, the groaners, the happy-go-luckies, the hungovers, the perky, the smiley, the sad, the positive, the negative, the bitch, the model, the cow, the youngster, the hippie - they have them all, and we love them all.
We are very pleased to announce that Playboy are very pleased to announce this year's Playboy Playmate of the year - The little angel, Kara Monaco.
She is a fine specimen and I am sure Hugh Hefner gave her a bloody good hiding. I very much doubt that there has ever been a playmate of the year who hasn't at the VERY least played with Hef's main chap.
Well done, Kara. You are very naughty.
And so, of course, we have put together a little collage of the little minx. I think it would be fair to say that these pics, although tasteful, are completely NOT suitable for work. Reason being they show not only her breasts, but also her vagina. As far as we know, breasts and vaginas are a complete no-no at Di-data and Old Mutual.
