Merry Christmas from One of Our Mutual Friends ...

The orange ball...

We got onto the bus the other day and seated ourselves next to the most self-tanned woman that has ever existed. Have you ever seen the Friends episode where Ross goes for a spray on tan and doesn't turn around, so getting double on one side. This lady was about 5 times worse. I loved the irony in her then asking four South Africans for directions.

Whilst the Sizzle was then working his magic, it came up in conversation that she was involved in the Snow Polo World Champs which was being played on the (get this) rugby fields in Aspen. In a very sharp observation the following question was posed "If its played in the snow, you cant play with a white ball right?" The answer was obviously..."We play with an orange ball." Ra ra

Monday lady...

Its -5 in Aspen but this girl can warm my blood. All the Pussycat Dolls except the main one eat your hearts out. This is Sarah Harding from Girls Aloud...

Little guy, little guy...let me in!

Somethings are so funny because of the context in which they happened it is hard to translate it into white and black. Hemingway might say the task is insurmoutable, but here at RSJ we try to 'mount' anything...

I love how in most contests the crowd will always have a soft spot for 'the little guy'. Unfortunately this soft spot doesn't match the desires of all the hotties in the crowd to gargel the manhood of the the winning QB; but take nothing away from this soft spot as sentiment does count for some measure of moral achievement. Look at Tunisa at the George 7s!

However, this soft spot phenonemon doesn't extend to doormen, bouncers or security personnel as no matter how cute and cuddly you are, you aren't coming my side of the stantion unless you wait your turn like all the other patrons.

I experienced evidence to this fact very recently, this sunday night in fact. We were relaxing at a quiet subdued Camps Bay social venue when time passed into the business end of the innings and security set up their rope barrier and made partygoers queue in an orderly fashion...

The queue amassed about 30 people fairly quickly and as with all queues somebody is brave or special enough to walk right to the front and slide passed the hired muscle with a high 5 or sexy wink. For interests sake, I'm not that guy.

One such 'bravespecial' (and life-ruin-ingly short) guy came barging through the crowd and went for the 'I-come-here-so-often-to-be-considered-a-famous-VIP-local-hence-need-special-treatment-and-I-do-all-this-to-compensate-for-my-ummm...' angle and his crowd ploughing was rudely halted by a big black swinging stiff arm...

Getting asked to politely wait with the other minnows is hardly worth making a post about but the tantrum Lord Farquaard then threw was priceless. Indignant at not been recognised as the guy who spends enough money at the place to warrant special treatment the little guy threw a scene that 6 year old girls could only dream about mimicing in the aisles of toys-r-us this christmas.

He ended up phoning someone in a very high place (mind you, any place above 4' 2 is high for him) and passed the phone on to the security guy and they sorted out the 'miscommunication'! However the damage had been done, having to phone your mom to speak to the bouncer is just as provencial as waiting in the queue...

I doubt this story will feature in the little guy's memoires..!

A thousand apologies...

I must apologise for the lack of posting of late. I stand with GH#12 when he says that he is not happy. I am not happy either. Let me tell you about a time when I was happy though. This will be part 1 of the aforementioned "Why We Went to Aspen: The Story of Dan and Craig."

Two nights ago, I attended a jacuzzi party in a $3 million house in the hills surrounding Aspen and sipped on eggnog whilst listening to a collection of Christmas carols played on the jazz flute. This is my happy place a la Happy Gilmore. I feel the need to mention however, that I have more than 1 happy place and another would be in a bed with the Monday girl below.

No celebrity sightings as of yet. Don't worry though. If Britney and Paris are around with short skirts and no underwear, I will be there. I will sacrifice myself and risk a clout from the meaty hand of a 6ft6 bodyguard to get you the best possible shot.

In less exciting celebrity news, two of my housemates are handling the task of fitting Jerry Seinfelds ski boots this week. They are planning on asking him to tell Kramer to lighten up on the racial slurs.

I promise to write again soon...
Adios

Monday madness...


The week has been so poor that we nearly had back2back monday girls without a post in between. That is not good and it is something I am not fine with. I am very fine with this beauty however, very fine. Will get right onto it though. Sincerest apologies...

Icing on the cake?


Battling with christmukkah present ideas? Wait a few days for 'Why we went to Apsen: The story of Dan and Craig. Volume I.' Volume II should be out for Easter...

Monday angel...

She was spotted in Aspen last year and if she is unfortunate enough to be seen by me this time round, she might just end up as our 8th flat mate (handcuffed to the bed).

I love these people...

Some people are just great and their efforts need to be recognised, lauded, appreciated and applauded...and what better way than with a rockstar gold star!


Like these people at www.hornyoyster.com. They had the foresight, the vision, nay the talent to run a daring and difficult enquiry into who is the hottest pornstar of all time. What altruism it takes to step up to a plate like this and shoulder the responsibility of such a monumental task.

They have succeeded in their task and are left with a final two: Jenna Jameson and Tera Patrick.

Daikin leading the struggle to transformation...

It is trite that television and cool air go hand-in-hand with summer like durex and a one night stand. So it is no surprise then that you see adverts for a state of the art air-conditioner range on TV in between the highlites of Graeme's duck(s) and Justin's ton. However what really interested me about the Daikin series of adverts was something else.

The two ads they have shown are both set in a bus. The bus is portrayed as your typical bane of public transport; it is old, cramped, stuffy and friggan hot. The part that the admakers deem 'clever' is when a guy sweating away in the heat is cooled by the sensation of a magazine ad picturing a belter chick in LBD sitting under a Daikin airmachine. The guy then tries to rub his hand up the girls short waist line only to (in ad 1) find his hand on the hairy kilt of a scotsman and (in ad 2) get slapped by a girl resembling the one in the magazine.

Yes they are crap ads and the makers are certainly not going to get the Nandoes or Allan Grey portfolios any time soon. Fair enough sex sells but you have to try relate it to your product surely? Anyway why I waste valuable beach time typing about this is because of how they portrayed the bus...

The opening shots pan through the bus trying to get the point across about how hot it is. They focus on the rows of people, the back of the bus and everyone standing around! What should strike you: less black faces than a 1960 South African sports team.

What are you joking? Not one single person of colour. Now look I also get incensed when black people push the equal opportunities envelope althought rightly so anything should really try and reflect an accurate cross slice of the population but not to depict a black person on public transport is lank unrealistic.

I see Daikin responding in one of two ways: A - it is a foreign ad that they just cut and paste into our market. Or B- they don't see black people as the specific target market for aircontioners.


I am backing them going for the first options because the other is just plain suicide. In which case they are just stupid fucks and too lazy to make a ad that will work on SA television.

Daikin, your silence in responding will be considered an admission of guilt and an acceptence of the mandatory 400 lashes for creating discontent along racial lines, and for taking up valuable 'ryperd' advertising space.

Friday Night Look-a-likes...

This is pretty weird. If you haven't seen Friday Night Lights you must be retarded and since you are reading this you obviously aren't retarded so through my casuistic sound reasoning you must have seen the movie.

Just to fire up your recall functions it's that killer High School football movie set in the lank small town of Odessa in West Texas where football is to people what that clay chalis full of cremated saviour is to the Christian nation. The story is about the Permian Panthers and their kick ass side that year. One of the main characters is the QB: Mike Winchell (his real name is Lucas Black and you might recognise him from Jarhead, Cold Mountain or Tokyo Drift)



Here is another story that is more similar than you can imagine:



Top USA university and incumbent holders of the NCAA football honours as they beat USC in the Rose Bowl last year, University of Texas aka the Longhorns. Now although an upset loss against Kansas rules them out of defending their title this year the Longhorns have been led by a freshman QB Colt McCoy. McCoy has broken every freshman NCAA QB record available and has in short been a rockstar revelation behind the line of scrimmage. Interestingly enough McCoy is from a small town in West Texas, Tuscola with a population of 700 and where he played High School football.

So what is so friggan interesting about this you ask? Look how similar the actor playing Mike Winchell and Colt are:

Docking...

Take something that people love away from them and they will hate. Welsh Rugby Union, we HATE you...

This is from www.planet-rugby.com:

"Villain of the Match: Without doubt this award goes to the WRU Officials who deprived the crowd of the Haka. The Haka is a tradition the Kiwi's are proud of and crowds the world over yearn to see live. So for the WRU to try and change this tradition was ludicrous and unjustified. Take note WRU, nobody benefited from your actions but instead were deprived of one of rugby's greatest sights."

“The tradition needs to be honoured properly if we're going to do it,” said McCaw. “If the other team wants to mess around, we'll just do the Haka in the shed. At the end of the day, Haka is about spiritual preparation and we do it for ourselves. Traditionally fans can share the experience too and it’s sad that they couldn't see it today,” he said.

Basically it boiled down to this. The Welsh wanted the Haka to be performed straight after the New Zealand national anthem, so they could then reply with 'Hen Wlad fy Nhadau' their incoherent celtic garbled pub song.

Shut up and take 45 points you idiots...

Monday Michelle....

The life...

Picture this if you will...
Its 1 in the morning, you have a perfectly poured vodka and coke in hand, snow is falling lightly, and the pool-sized jacuzzi is just perfect...
Welcome to Aspen...

Storm in a bathtub...

I wrote this post yesterday but the dodgy library server crashed just before I hit the climax button and the thing was lost forever. It was a remarkable post uncovering a brewing storm (in a bath) of sorts but alas the window of opportunity is fast closing and I fear this is to little too late.

It is worthy to mention that the post was typically awesome. It was full of witty insightful phrases, thought provoking comments and ball-stretchingly funny quips. The content was rather average but it did involve pictures of Minki Van der Westhuizen.

I washed my brain stem out with SABmiller products last night just to disinfect it after all the horrid law info it imbibed during the exam period and am afraid I washed away the memory of my lost post, but believe you me, it was fucking awesome.

So yesterdays post in a nutshell:

Some dude got hold of private soft porn 'preferrably-for-personal-use-only' home digital images of the famous Minki sipping champagne in a bathtub with very little except clear water guarding her (and I mean this) very 'nice!' body. Basically her taut ass is hidden like the seabed of clifton 4th on a good day. [that clever little reference wasn't used yesterday but I like it, and it works]

Anyway moving the nutshell along, the photo possessor obivously was in Minki's inner circle and held these due to the confidence Minki had in him not showing them to the world. I am guessing brother, dodgy uncle, gay friend or now-fat-semi-talented-exboyfriend? So the dude put them up for auction online ala Rick Salamon/Kev Federline, except unlike Rick he didn't do it for money (retard) and unlike Kev he actually had the stuff.

------------Down to the final 3 for "WHO WANTS TO BE THE LUCKY DEFEDANT"
But here is the kicker. Two kingpin sites in the SA/Cape Town web community were involved in attaining the posts. Seth from 2oceansvibe took the higher moral ground and refused to post the pictures, or he in actual fact just had full knowledge of the possible legal ramifications. However, the boys from nadoes.com were not as bright; posted all 3 pics and to add tact to stupidity are running a competition to see who can guess the man who sent in the photos.

Kinda makes you remember those "good idea, bad idea" cartoons, except here instead of dying you stand getting sued by the company that pays huge tin to contract Minki into all the rights of any photographic content she may feature in.

Looking forward to a backlash.

[oh and the pictures are pretty awesome, in the thoughts of Borat; I'd definitely be inclined to maki de sexi time wid her!]

The US and A...

In a similar fashion to Borat, I have travelled to the great "US and A" to study their culture. I am basing my operations in Aspen and have been told that I can expect snowboarding, keg parties and easy women. I'm all for the first two but to be honest, if a woman is easy she probably isn't worth it.

The Rockstar Journals now have correspondents on 3 continents so readers can expect some diversity. Not Ron Burgundy's old wooden ship but rather a vast array of articles about different customs around the world.

After a flight via London (which included a whirlwind tour for the benefit of my travel companion), I arrived in Denver. We had minimal customs problems although I was asked whether I was carrying any recreational drugs. Do I look like I'm carrying recreational drugs? Ok, maybe. As we stepped into the airport, the following announcement was made.."Airport security has been raised to Orange. Please be on the lookout for any suspicious persons or activity." Coincidence? We rented the steamy Pontiac G6 to drive from Denver to Aspen..

Now here, my job affords me the luxury of sitting on the internet all day whilst being paid $13 an hour. Not quite up to the snowboarding yet after my broken ankle but have hooked up a ski pass worth R9000 to capitalise once I get the chance. I foresee this leading to the rage brought on by the famous "what happened to your ankle?" incidents of earlier in the year as by answering that here I am then forced to explain the entire game of rugby as well.

It is Thanksgiving today. Yesterday I was asked whether we celebrated the holiday so I had to explain the American history of the Pilgrims and thanksgiving to an actual American. Otherwise, the people i have dealt with have not been as ignorant as I was expecting.

Took a stroll in central Aspen the other day. Its all Hummers and diamond draped yummy mummies so there is plenty to keep one interested...


Wait with bated breath boys and girls. There is plenty to come...

Late monday girl...


Seventy-five hours of passion has a retarding effect on productivity. Sorry!

75 HOP...


Seventy-five hours of passion... And it starts today! 15h00!

Come the day, and come the hour...


The 16th November will be a great day, a monumentous day and one destined 'to be downed' in the annuals of history. The day is going to be one of such prestige it has already been named by someone who is no stranger to knighting events. Roy has dubbed it the "Day of a 1000 draughts". And such a day it will be...


One day, years from now, deep down in a sealed room where the air temperature and moisture levels are carefully monitored by a clever machine, there will lie a book that will tell the story of tomorrow! Besides the book will lie an ancient video tape, an anachronistic relic documenting what went on that day. The tape will be from the CCTV cameras of Forresters Arms, and it is a good thing the tape survived, because no one who was present ever remembered a thing...

Exam docking..?

If you are currently or have just finished (focker) writing exams I have little doubt in my mind you have experienced one of these 3 people. They appear every exam time and are more of a drain on varsity life than Hiv, poverty, low education availibility and corrupt deputy presidents are on emerging 3rd world countries.

The Stresser:
Usually female, but male versions are the worst, Stressers are those hyperactive loud mouthed whiners that bob around exam venues or accost you in the library repeating the words: "ohmygod, I havent learnt I am so stressed, like really really, like stressed..."

Are you joking? Do I look like a liquid form of the textbook that you can just imbibe and be ready for the exam? Do I look like the cool machine in the matrix that you can just plug into the socket in your neck and upload all relevant information? Do I look like a give a fuack? Maybe if you learnt you wouldn't be 'so stressed'? Maybe if you spent the same amount fo time learning as you do pointing out the fact that you are stressed you would actually be prepared and not standing here encouraging me to paper-cut your neck off with you study notes?

The 'EQ examers':
Again usually female, but maybe it's just cause girls don't stop coming up to me! Hi demigod, How have your exams been? When do you write again? How to you feel for your next exam? When do you finish?

Okay. Quit with the barrage of questions. I am guessing you are the same 'how was your holiday people' that appear after every holiday. You don't have to talk to me. Really you don't! Rather just sit there and stare like the other girls, because a.) I'd rather be learning than talking to you and b.) the last thing I want to talk about is exams with you. Taking your clothes off, maybe; exams, definitely not!

The blubber:
Partly because you look like you were raised solely on a diet of whale fat, and partly because you are sitting face down with your chubby forehead on desk exam desk crying! Good plan though, I reckon they put all the scripts with tear marks at the top part of the bell curve.

Something is down...

I feel like Meredith Gray's housemates will tonight. I feel, not that I have been lied to but rather something important has been kept from me! However, I do use important loosely, as truth be told I don't really care that she has a secretive sibling. There are some people out there to whom this will matter, so I am just pushing for the credit of having this remarkable discovery attributed to me.

I feel like Alexander Fleming after inventing penicillin, it'll make me famous but I don't need it, except I am already famous and this discovery wasn't accidental.


Moving along, many of you are familiar with the existence (sporadic yet confirmed; he is the yeti in that car insurance ad) of the Tall Blonde Guy or TBG. (check out any 3rd post on this site if you haven't: www.2oceansvibe.com) The mythical inimitableness of him is inherent in the very fact that he is a one of a kind!

Well, shock and horror for you faithful believer he actually has a little brother who is far more famous than he is. And if you doubt my discovery watch the Springboks play the English this weekend and keep an eye out for the blonde mopped replacement scrumhalf that will take over from Sean Perry in the 60th minute...

Good monday Mrs Smith...


This morning was going to be a shown down between Jane and the Jocelyn, but I couldn't find a suitable picture of Shannon Sossamon. However, I don't think we've done too badly.

RSLJ Article 13: The closer you get to the truth, the further you are from it…

This has bugged me for a rather long time and I have battled to find the trigger to make me journal it. This photo is of a wall in a tunnel walkway on campus. It was my trigger, since I bet a Kevin wrote it. In an attempt to appease my irritation I am going to share it with you, if you weren’t aware of it already, just so I don’t suffer alone…

I hate informal 'get togethers ’ where everyone congregates at the house of the guy in the extended social circle that has the biggest flat screen, the best pool cricket pitch, the nicest braai, the prettiest sister or just the biggest tolerance for people messing T-sauce and miller on his carpet.

I hate these social events as you are forced to meet people you really would NOT like to meet, and worse than that you have to portray a modicum of civility in interacting with them, since they must be someones friend right? It’s like traveling long distance on a flight path that includes 2 or 3 changeovers.

The guy in the ‘No one knows I am a lesbian shirt!” (they do now asshole) behind you in the queue at Cape Town, probably sat across the aisle from you on the flight to O Thambo, and then was in front of you in the boarding queue, the aisle ahead of you on the 12 hour flight to Hong Kong, also ordered a Double Whopper while you passed the 3hour delay in China, and god forbid sat next to you on the CX connection to Don Muang.

Thankfully it isn’t rude to pretend to sleep when this guy gives you the ‘hey I’ve seen you every hour of the last 20 and I want to share life stories’ look just when the airhostess delivers the fried pork and rice but you don’t have that luxury when the guy you just met at the braai comes over for a quick chat.

I am referring broadly here to a guy when I should actually be doing so to a specific type of guy. It is complex to define him except through the use of this reduction test. If, every person present upon meeting the guy, immediately wonders ‘who invited this clown?’ he is one of these guys! Let’s call him Kevin, and I’ll explain why I hate him…

Kev is basically the reason St Andrews boys started baiting! You see Kev didn’t fit into any of the crudely defined ‘cool’ categories at school. He didn’t achieve in anything so didn’t command respect. He didn’t have any glaring deficiencies though so wasn’t ostracized either. He was just average.

Of course mediocrity is worse than red hair so K-meister had to earnestly elevate his status! How he planned to do so? Get as close to the action as possible, and in doing so got further and further away…

K-dawgs strategy to be accepted as a cool guy in ‘the group’ is one of mind-boggling social interest and because he has done no act that is even remotely interesting, he finds the need to talk his way in. Problem is, he is lying to himself…

Hence K-force talks about his achievements in topics he thinks will make him sound cool and hey presto you have a quote machine. However, a really experienced Kevin has been trying (obviously to no avail) to achieve success in this manner for ages, so has made impressive advancements in the technique.

The ultimate skill in K-bragging? “I haven’t just heard that story, I was actually there!” In ethnic groups where oral history is an important social tool, the elders were always held in high esteem because since they had the knowledge they had the power. Hence, information is power, so when someone shares an impressive story to a group of guys he gets acknowledged as the omnipotent story teller.

Devious little K-fist cottoned onto this idea and developed a way to usurp the story teller and get in on the power. He would one better the omnipotent story teller by claiming he was actually there and experience the story first hand. The one thing cooler than front row tickets? Been on the field!

So Matt tells the story about how Roy got so boozed at Tiger on Tuesday night, he passed out in the bathroom, and got swept out by the cleaning lady at 6am the next morning and then walked six miles to make the 8am accounting lecture in Beattie! Despite Roy admitting it ‘wasn’t his best’ this behaviour is immortalized by the minnows that fringe around the periphery of ‘the group’ like pilot fish on a shark.


So when this story is recounted at the chicken burger stand at lunch, at Forries that night, at the braai on sat and at such events for time to come the K-claimers of the world add in comments like these: (the further down the list you go the more experienced the Kevin)

K1: That’s so hectic! [emphasis] Roy was buying me drinks at around 11pm, and he was fine.

K2: That’s more than hectic! [hectic and cool seem to be directly proportional] We were hitting strohs hard and I had like four but Roy carried on smashing them…

K3: H-e-c-t-i-c! Myself and Roy bounced a ‘cane and fanta rape’ in the parking lot before he got us in on his guest list… [Its Roy and I you illiterate fuck]

K4: So hectic man! I saw Roy chilling in the men’s room and we laughed for ages. We nearly got into a fight but didn’t… [Yes, K-Y, thinks fighting is as cool as drinking]

K5: Friggan hectic dude! R-dawg and I were ripping up the dance floor when the lights came on, we stole a bottle of jagie from behind the bar, wedgied a bouncer on the way out, got head in the parking lot from an amazing belter then held a jager-bomb party with like 50 chicks in the parking lot with the case of redbull I had in my car. The chicks started stripping and the music was pumping. We told the biatches to duck home cause we didn’t want to waste any more jagie. I was too wasted to drive my cabbie and walked with Roy to campus but I left him on the way and went home cause I only have 3rd on a wed…

K6: That wasn’t Roy, it was me…

You’re an idiot Kevin…

[Incidentally the Roy story was actually a fabrication as he ducked Tiger early to go home and study for accounts so just made up the story to douse the flames of any nerd calling accusations.]

MensHealth Look 2006: It's tough at the top...

As stated on their website - "Men's Health annually searches for the ultimate South African man – he is fit, lives a balanced lifestyle and is not afraid of taking risks. Now in its seventh year, this programme rewards men who manage to balance friends, family, relationships, finance and his career while still remembering to spend time on his health and well-being."

Okay so they pawned last year and ended up with a lying, cheating, back-boneless, dimwit that couldn't last Round 1 of Survivor because his people skills were so bad. But you can't let one bad apple tarnish this reverred award. Fair enough the winner last year snuck through cause he was more cut up than an English defence after a battle with Dan Carter but the oke is still a palooka. (No, I am not bitter. We did clean him and his phantom touch calling cronies 5 zip in the final rubber to take it 3-0. Glory lasts forever.)

-----------------------------------------First princess?
Anyway his one claim to fame has been taken from him now and we have the very impressive Kevin Tsehisi in at number 1. Rockstar was backing the eventual runner-up Denton to take the honours but that's just cause he is a proud member of the UCT RFC.

Go check out the rest of www.menshealthsa.co.za!