Would you rather be an Idol or a Rockstar???

Reality TV shows receive some serious flak but nevertheless they hand out viewer pleasure like the Pope hands out hail-marys. You cant deny that despite the heavy criticism that shows - like ShowMeTheMommy, BigBrother and now IDOLSIII - get they put bums in seats like nothing since Turner Classic Movies...

However the attraction of these shows is not their captivating dramatic pauses (usually courteous Colin ‘a-village-is-missing-a-badly-dressed-idiot’ Moss) or their heart-warming success stories of previously disadvantaged children rising to fame and fortune but cause of their huge laugh AT them attraction.

The opening rounds of Idols were priceless, as the judges weeded out the no-talent (no education, no dress sense etc) hopeful entrants that (and I quote), ‘hoped that by winning, I wouldn’t have to get my matric’! Now that is entertainment pleasure. Seriously nothing beats spending a few hours on a Sunday on the couch laughing hysterically at how backward, inbred and just plain bizarre some people from the Rainbow nation are…

Veronique de Lange

That part of the show is over (unfortunately) and we’re into the serious business. However we still get the odd excitement at laughing at the stupidity of our nations population. My MVP for this weeks episode was young (get this) Veronique [pronounced Veron-NEEK] from Bloem. The young, rather nubile lass (or more correctly meisie) did a lovely Kelly Clarkson impersonation and had a great set of tits, (or was it the other way around) but unfortunately didn’t make the cut. Why MVP? In her little pre-performance interview she described her hobbies as ‘I like to social’ (sic? or sick?) and ‘dance until 5am, just don’t tell my parents’. [both in thick OFS accent] Shame what a sweetie but not only does it seem she hasn’t got the idea of the English language but also that she hasn’t grasped the concept that the idea behind National TV is that everyone sees it including said parents.

But wait there is more. Just when you thought her uniNEEK (get it??) name wasn’t going to be seen on national TV until the proposed Survivor Benoni 2008, there is another contestant that shares the same name. I’m betting she will be MVP for her week…. Back yourself Veroneek!

Veronique Lalouette

In the words of Babagoodouche, ‘ Rule 5: No excuses play like a champion’…

Mother's Milk ...

Pet hate. If I had a buck for every time that I heard a student refer to alcohol as mother's milk, I'd probably be an alcoholic. (See what I did there with the dramatic irony - quote within a quote. Pretty clever, huh?) Mind you if I had a buck for every time someone said 'if I had a buck for every time ...'. This going nowhere, forget I even mentioned it ...

Is there something wrong with your eyes bro???



I’m not going to be a prick and gloat, but I am going to be a prick and say ‘I friggan told you so’! Yes the All Blacks did outgun the Boks in the end, but I thought that after that awe-inspiring Kapa o Pango and then Smokin’ Joe’s try early up that the Boks were in for a hiding…

The Boks showed what an accomplished side they are by getting back into contention and fighting right up until the final whistle. Its great to see the world’s greatest rugby rivalry is finally back to what it was. Jake White has revolutionised the green and gold in 18months, but if he carries on selecting bonehead inside centres SA will continue to only score opportunists tries created through pressure and solid defence. Don’t get me wrong, any try is worth 5 points, but if you can’t create tries from 1st phases you ain’t going to be winning silverware, especially away from home…

I cant wait til next year Trinations….
KAPA O PANGO, AUE HI, HA!

Fishing Season is Back!
The weather this winter has made deep sea fishing this season rather a hassle with some big guns choosing to stay in doors instead of risking more tackle on some average catches. Looks like the tide has turned though and the big names are back in the water throwing some lines, vibe and names.....
[In case you were wondeing, the shirt of the Matt Damon look-a-like in the middle reads: "Wear double protection!" and the gentleman on the left it seems is drinking cane and cream soda, obviously a double though]

Ugliest Dog in the World ...

Oh. My. God.

And no, its not one of the ones Wade used to drag home before he settled down.

There it is. I'm not entirely sure why I though you should see this, except that I did and psychologists say you should share your traumatic experiences. It's like seeing two ugly people lunging, or a car crash - you know you shouldn't look, but you just can't help yourself.

Barry White ...

I have never been to New Zealand, in fact the closest I have ever got was when I flew over Singapore, and I certainly have no one on my blood line that is even remotely from NZ. However when the mighty AB’s host the Springboks at the House of Pain this weekend for the Tri-nations decider I won’t be wearing green or humming shosholoza, I’ll have a fern on my chest and black blood running through my heart…

I have supported the All Blacks since I was old enough to tell the difference between champagne rugby and the 10-man game plan and haven’t looked back. My trophy cabinet is pretty well stocked with silverware but I don’t have a Bill Webb Ellis trophy to flaunt, and it doesn’t matter to me cause I choose the teams I support like I choose my women, the most attractive one gets the nod…

I’m no fair-weather glory supporter either, I’ve been sporting the AB strip since the 1995 RWC final and my avid loyalty even lasted the John Hart error (I mean era).

I support the Blacks for 3 reasons:

1.) They play rockstar rugby! To me their natural ability coupled with their thinking game makes them the most attractive brand on offer to a supporter. They’re hard, they're physical, they're fast but they’re also CREATIVE. To me its poetry watching big forwards do the donkey work and then throw flashy offloads in contact. But I really can't contain my enjoyment of viewing the spectacle of the likes of Danny Carter, Carlos Spencer and the Christian Cullen carving defenses out wide.

2.) The second reason is because having patriotism toward the soil you were born on is a big load of BS. All those hypocritical one-eyed people out there who call me a turncoat must ask themselves which provincial side they support. I’m willing to bet that almost 80% will support a side that doesn’t represent the region they were born in. Its arbitrary to suggest that cause you were born somewhere you must support that team or that ideology. If a catholic kid is born in the heart of an Islamic country in an Islamic community - must he then choose one of those two religions. I say fuck it, be a rockstar and support or follow what you want.

3.) The final reason is that the Springboks play such crap rugby! Now I dont want to blame the Afrikaner nation for the SA philosophy to pick the biggest 8 men you can, a half back that can pass, and a first-five eight that can kick the gilbert off a ball but lets be honest - its pretty much their fault. How boring is it watching a game plan centred on 8 gargantuan men, a right boot and a solid defence?

Since I was old enough to recognise it I have despised the way SA has played the game. Big lumbering oafs with no brain or finesse trying to punch it up for 80 minutes and kicking anything goalable. BORING, yes, effective on occasion but oh so boring.

However I really thought the introduction of progressive Jake White coaching mind and his new crop of players would change all this. A guy like Jean De Villiers (who if he wasn’t so big, fast and Maties looking would definitely be considered a maori just by the way he plays) is the epitome of a rugby player. The guy has the x-factor, he oozes class and creativity. He broke the mould SA rugby gave itself, and he just needed to be given the 12 jersey to do it. He did to the ‘green and gold’ what Madiba did to this country: wrenched it from its ignorant past and took it into the enlightened future.

This weekend: SA took a big leap backward. Don’t blame the ref for carding Paulse, and don’t even whine about the ruck not forming over Matt Rogers’ line break. The end result is White don’t have a wing in his squad and has moved Jean the Saviour back there, with De Wet Barry taking the inside centre birth!!! We have had enough of your love babe!!!

De Wet Barry: Old School

I’m sorry, it’s over before it’s begun. I don’t care if it pisses with rain in Dunedin and SA kick out a victory, the mere fact that the guy who has led us out of the darkness was relegated

to the wing so easily in favour of the old style sickens me…

I think he is laughing at you...!!! TriNations show down, 07h35 (GMT). 27/08/2005.
Oh my god its going to be good...

We'll always have Paris ...

Paris on an off-day

After slipping somewhat from favour, the prodigal Paris Hilton has returned. After her atrocious decision to wed a decidely un-rockstarish Paris Latsis (he may be the heir to shipping fortune, but hey, money isn't everything) she has decided to call off the engagement.

femalefirst.co.uk claims "the sexy socialite was left fuming when she threw a lavish party several weeks ago to celebrate their upcoming nuptials - only to discover her handsome (he's no 9 -rockstar) lover hadn't told his wealthy Greek parents about their engagement."

Paris, fear not, should you decide to bestow your heavenly gifts upon any of us mere (although almost perfect) mortals at rockstar, we promise to tell out parents, and our friends, the guy who cuts our lawn, and quite possibly the entire world (possibly withsome form of photographic evidence).

Two words. Fuck yeah.

To those ...

who commented on the site being difficult to use. This may help for the present:

"A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely
foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools."

- Douglas Adams

RSLJ Article 1: I’m a Nine…

Now for those of you non-couch sitting TV watching people out there who don’t have an affinity for American comedy spin-offs, this sentence will mean very little to you. Prepared to be enlightened. I was sitting with my mate Joey the other day and he was explaining the ‘Numbers Game’ in regard to taking on the fairer sex. It works like this according to a very simple 10 marks system:

People are rated, purely on physical looks, on a scale out of 10. Ten being the maximum you can get, think Angelina Jolie while zero is obviously the lowest you can go, think (I know it makes you want to retch but try...) something along the lines of Shallow Hal or the institution that was the Green Man wors lady. So you get the point. Of course its all relative and fairly subjective as different people will give a different score that someone else might give. Example: The guy coming right will obviously throw in a few extra points on a 6 girl whereas the jealous digsmate who came right with a 4, will drop the 6 girl to a 5 and seemingly forget to mention his 4.

There are other factors that throw a score card, like the proverbial one bottle of cane turns the red-headed 4 at the bar, into a beautiful gaelic-blonde spread-eagled on your bed at home. Then there is of course the sneaky ploys girls use to add extra points to themselves. [I don’t have time to get into the intricate art of ‘cheating’ but that will definitely feature later in the RSLJ]

That’s basically the points side, but you get the mental image. From here the ‘Numbers Game’ is really simple. There are two rules, the first is absolute and the second is more a reflection on yourself.

Rule 1: Don’t talk about the Numbers Game! (sorry I don’t know who left that on the copy machine)
Rule 1: You can’t come right with someone that is more than 2 points above you.
Rule 2: You can’t come right with someone that is more than 2 points below you.

You see it’s really easy. Let me use, yours truly as an example. I’m a 9. Therefore I can’t kiss girls that are rated 6 or lower and the highest I can kiss is a hypothetical 11. As stated Rule 1 is absolute, I can’t attempt to come right with a girl that is above a hypothetical 11. [maybe I shouldn’t have used myself but someone whose maximum doesn’t exceed the limit] A guy that is a 6 just can’t go for a doll that is higher than an 8. This is law, and you need a 2 thirds majority in the Rockstar House of Commons to change it. Rule 2 is, however, not absolute although ignoring it means you are making the poor chick break Rule 1. Which is fuckin dick, the chick is ugly already and now you want to make her a criminal, thoughtless bastard…

So basically everyone has a 4 point sway in terms of who they can come right with. My HUGE problem is the people that don’t recognise these rules and they can be categorised into 3 types of violations.
Violation 1: I cant stand that drunk friggin' garden-gnome looking wortel guy who is drowning in the shallow end of the 3 point pool who is trying to ‘work his moves’ on my ex-girlfriend. Not because she had previous conjugal relations with me but because she is like 6 or 7 points beyond him. What the fuck, that is clearly in violation of Rule 1!
Violation 2: Then the are those guys who will happily break rule 2 (and indirectly rule 1) by coming right with girls that they know are struggling to make the grade cause a girl 3 or 4 down is easier to come right with and might put out more.
Violation 3: However the only thing that exceeds my hatred for the aforementioned lawless ugly fucks and guys who aim below their minimum, is girls who can clearly see I am out of their 2 point range by a decent margin but come up and throw sex in my face thinking that the incentive of sex from an ugly girl takes away the important rules that we should base society on. Fuck it, I am going to make a tshirt that states: ‘If you’re below a 7, don’t even think about it…’
However in these girls defence, they have obviously succeeded in this manner before so, I blame the guys from violation 2 who kiss ugly girls with wreckless abandon and leave me fighting off droves of high on confidence slappers who think they can play super 12 when they're not even capable of playing internal league.

Rockstar Life Journal: A Preview

The threatening rockstar clouds have been gathering for ages and the clouds are so heavy and swollen with content that the burst of this website has started the downpour and its time to get wet…

I needed a starting point for the Rockstar Life Journal [RSLJ] and decided that the manifesto of why “we’re better than you’ fitted snugly in with my objectives. I’m not going to outline those objectives now but rather let you pick up on them as the articles start turning out, instead I am going to take this momentum and run with it...

Bar Counters ...

What, exactly, is it about bar counters? More precisely - what inspires people to acts of sheer idiocy whenever a bar counter is involved. Now, I am perfectly sure that alcohol plays its part, but to lay the blame solely at the feet of fermented, flavoured water is akin to Hansie Cronje claiming that Lucifer himself opened 9 Swiss bank accounts in his (Hansie's) name.

Let us take a brief stroll down memory lane, to Pulse, on Wedneday the 17 August 2005. Upon arrival yours truly is confronted with the not altogether unpleasant sight of two somewhat unremarkable creature writhing on the bar counter to the chants of a packed bar area. After pulling myself back from some quite disturbing flashbacks from that time in South America with the strippers and the python, I take second note of the fact the aforesaid creatures are both female. Not spectacularly so, but definitely female. As they lunge, and lunge hard, I wonder - did your parents raise you right? Probably not, is the swift answer, and thank God for it. For without such random slappers tempted by the allure of an ever present bar counter we would probably be deprived of all instances of girl-on-girl action (my digsmate's girlfriend aside).

While this all would have been quite alright and somewhat befitting the celebration of CKB and Bastard's birthday, it went one step further. After attempting for a good few minutes try to find an attractive girl (of which there were unfortunately few) and returning my sights to the stage (sorry, bar counter) I was sure that somebody must have slipped acid into my drink. The drug, not the pool cleaner. For dancing up on the stage was what could only have been a gay male stripper (GMS). Shirt off, gold belt loose and swinging his hips in moves so unnatural that Ricky Martin would have run and hid under his life partner's bed, was one of the most AMAZING specimens of humanity I have ever encountered. NB. when I say amazing I say it with a very heavy sarcastic overlay. Note this is not a compliment, but a jibe intended to ridicule this moron in the hope that no one ever has to suffer like I the captive audience packed into Pulse did. Should you read this article GMS do not, for the love of all that is good in the world, attempt such a feat again.

If this is the way society is going I will go drink my drinks in the woods. Alone. Again. Honestly.

We're better than you ... and we know it
A Rockstar Manifesto

Rockstars do not lie to themselves, or others about who they are. They are not unhappy about the way they look, or pretend to be something they’re not.

They swagger when they walk and they'll look you in the eye when they talk to you. They don’t act how they think you want them to. They don’t let others tell them what to do and they don’t tell anyone else what to do. They do think they’re better than you - mostly because they are.

They're born to succeed, will do what it takes to and always finish first. They don’t chronicle their achievements because someone else will do it for them.

They don’t wear what they do because everyone else does - they do it because they make it look good. They don't wear their collars up, their jeans down, or their caps sideways.

They live the life they want. They are probably selfish, but altruism is overrated anyway.

They don’t over-load barbells and do half reps, and they don’t arch their backs when they arm curl. A rockstar know there are no shortcuts. They wear wifebeaters, but would never hit a women. They treat dames like ladies, and ladies like dames.

They don’t start fights. Occasionally they end them. They don’t feel the need to lie about the size of their wallets, bank balances or golf handicap.

They know their strengths. They don't need to know their weaknesses. Rockstars know what they want, and how to get it. The day you came second, one of them came first. The day you wanted it, they already had it - fuck it - they had two.

They are proud of where they come from, of who they are, and know why they'll always be better than you. It's their world - you just live in it.

Happy Birthday Charles Kenrick Brown and Greg "the Fist" Bastard.

Amazingly this was the least gay birthday picture I could find (although seeing as you guys live together AND share a birthday it might be appropriate). Don't even ask me why there are Penguins. It's just one of those things. Looking forward to tonight rockstars ...

Gavin who?

Its coming, its coming very soon... The first article that will set the bar pretty damn high for the standard of what this site has to offer... prepare yourself. GH#12

Plett Elizabeth

Just had one of those weekends. The ones where you are suddenly thrown head-first into consciousness only to find yourself in Port Elizabeth. Why would anyone go to PE? I fear this may be one of those questions with no answer, or an inane one - like 42. Nonetheless if you do find yourself hopelessly inepriated (sic - Bastard) and wondering around some foreign city, do not assume it is Plett. And do not loudly and publicly start counting mullets.

Coming Soon! Coverage of the Inaugral Women's Day Digs Challenge! (Involving surprisingly few women)

New Era

Ok. It starts. Its a new era. Get ready.

Happy Birthday FOCKER!


Told you it was here! Hope you can do everything you want to...just like we can!>

The RSLJ!