God bless Italia...

I have suddenly realised that we here at the Rockstar Journals had very little to say about the FIFA World Cup. In fact, we had nothing to say about it. Our apologies. We consider ourselves sports fans and up to date with world news so how did this occur. In truth, ordinarily I couldn't give a damn who won the world cup. Football is a game that is too long with too little scoring and it depends as much on the players acting abilities as on their actual sporting talent. When I see a poncy, long-haired "athlete" take a dive and proceed to writhe around on the floor as though his leg has been dislocated and then popped back into socket, crushing a stray testicle and causing him to scream so long and hard that he tears his vocal chords, I feel ashamed to be watching. I wish that upon you oh football loser so that you may know the feeling and then stop pretending. Despite this, I had taken a particular shining to the Italian side. They have a certain rockstarish vibe and appeal about them. Forza Azzuri.

But this is not the main reason I like Italy. I have had the good fortune of travelling to the country and it truly is an amazing place. The architecture, the people, the food... And Rome was the centre of one of the most powerful empires the world has ever known...R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

I recently got my first job (not including this one although you can hardly call being an idol to many a job) in four and a half years doing promotions for Peroni, SABMiller's new Italian beer. Peroni (girls) go(es) down smooth.

I am a convert. It is good. It is very good. I was also required to learn a few Italian words and phrases so I could walk around in a white suit, smiling charmingly and saying things like Ciao bella (hello beautiful) to the kind of girls who drink a 5.1% alcohol premium lager. Ie not supermodels and girls like my next and final reason for liking Italy....Ladies and gentlemen I give you Elisabetta Canalis...

Bellissimo

Hoot if it's Monday...


This is from the recent Hooter's swimwear pagent. I can't remember why I liked hooters so much? Was it the big plasma screens, hot wings or beer?

Go to www.popholic.com to check out the rest of the menu.

Supersonic speed...

Duncan Hugh "Mac 1" McLarty turns 23 today and it couldn't have happened to a nicer fellow. I have had the great honour of living with the man of the moment for two years in 2003 and 2004 during which time I was privy to Mac 1 at his finest. Duncan is a jack of all trades...Chef (he worked at the Cape Grace you know), game ranger, freakishly large rodent hunter, comedian and fridge whisperer are just a few of the fields in which he displays talent. Despite being with the times, the boy is also a fan of the classics and his music collection is peppered with such legends as Billy Joel and Bob Seger. Just don't ask him to try and remember the words whilst standing on a table at a 21st. As I write, I suspect he has drunk himself devoid of basic motor functions as he has orchestrated a skop at the residence affectionately referred to as Wonderland. Congrats Mac and here's to many more...

Spare a thought or 10...

Shit day? Another traffic fine in the post? Run out of filter coffee and had to have instant? Jerk cut you off in traffic? Fucker steal your favorite parking spot at gym? That loud nasal bitch radio DJ seem to be playing Paris Hilton's song on repeat? Your boss catch you jacking off in the work toilets? She didn't have the decency to give a helping hand? Come home to a realise you locked the maid out? Power cut during CSI? Ugly neighbour had a screaming threesome allnighter that kept you awake?

Okay so you had a crap 24hours. Tomorrow must be better! Hell, your future must look brighter right? Imagine if you future looked utterly crap...

Meet Luke McAllister. (stage directions: enter 6 foot 90 kg rugby god of maori desent)


Luke is possibly the most talented young rugby player around with the potential to be huge. Problem: Um...Daniel Carter. McAllister's future is very simple and it involves a lot of wood. Ruebens Barrichello had to play ferrarri second fiddle to Michael Schumacher but he drove. Imagine waking up everyday knowing you are good enough but you were born too early. That sucks.

Monday in full swing...

The Open Championship is understandably the most prestigious golfing tournament in Europe but to win her as a prize is pretty insane. Then again having a fan paint stripes on their pet pooch so it looks like a tiger is pretty insane too.

The Clash…

The media have more ammunition than Hezbollah building into this weekend Trinations encounter. The Springboks made strong motivation last weekend to rename the competition the Binations, whilst All Black coach Graham Henry choose the Bok result as a further reason to implement his ‘crazy scientist stroke gifted genius’ plan of player rotation making 8 changes to his victorious side.


Whilst I was reading all these off field factors that play interesting roles in the build up on the internet, the screen clouded over and celestial beings transported the Creator’s son to foreground and this is what Dan had to say:

"They have a lot of pride in their forwards and they have extremely good set pieces," Carter told the Supersport website.
"But at times they have no Plan B. When they're under pressure, they don't adjust to what's in front of them."
While the Boks will be keen to bounce back from last week's disaster in Brisbane and are determined to get the ascendancy up front, Carter feels there are other ways of beating the rush-defence.
"Things happen a lot quicker against the rush defence, but it can lead to opportunities in other areas. We definitely learnt a lot from the loss at Newlands last year," he said.
"You need to give yourselves a bit more space against a rush defence and the first-five [No.10] can do that by creating more depth for the rest of the backline.
"We've got plenty of skill out wide and the important thing is to realise if there's space out there."

This has got to be some of the most coherent stuff I have ever heard someone state in regard to SA rugby. I seriously doubt that those in the position to change these shortfalls are going to heed Danny’s warning.

And whilst we are in the area of rugby:

Big Wendell got his 2 year ban from rugby union after being found guilty by his tribunal. I don’t understand why he doesn’t get criminal charges against him but this could just be because he does live in a country sized prison anyway. Apparently there was controversy over his conviction because the prosecutors had little evidence to convict him but he arrived dressed like this, which means he must be doing coke…

This guy came up and asked if I wanted to buy a few grams, and I was like sorry bro but can you sign my 'tahs jersey..!

Going Dutch...

Nowadays it is not too uncommon to hear of some pretty, what we like to prefer to as, fucked up shit. England winning the 2003 RWC set a bench mark off some sort and since then the 'fuckedupshitometer' has incrementally increased to a point where if say you read in a gossip magazine that a once famous, albeit short, actor publicly committed himself to a bizarre extraterrestrial religion and swore that he would devour the placenta of his firth born child and name it after a curry powder you would glance through the article and skip straight to the red carpet shots of Petra Nemcova.

Any weird antics up until now pale in significance when you here this story from the Guardian newspaper.

"The Netherlands cemented its reputation as Europe's most socially liberal country yesterday when a new political party formed by paedophiles was told it could contest this year's general election.

The Brotherly Love, Freedom and Diversity party (PNVD), which wants to cut the age of consent from 16 to 12 and to legalize child pornography.

The new party wants to legalize the possession of child pornography and to allow pornography to be shown on daytime television. Sex with animals would also be allowed by the party, although abuse of animals would remain illegal."

Crumbs this is ridiculous. I can find myself accepting the idea of allowing pornography on daytime TV, and would probably turn a blind eye if someone prefers sheep to women (it would certainly increase the number of Aussie tourists come trinations time) but to actively lobby to drop the age of consent to 12 is some other kind of fucked up.

But wait there is more: "The new party, which was formed in May, pledged to intensify its campaign to remove the taboo on pedophilia which, it claims, has worsened in the past decade after the arrest of the notorious Belgian pedophile Marc Dutroux."

Well thanks very much Marc you prick. You got caught now everyone sees us pedophiles in a bad light. Come on sport. You are not towing the line here. Oh wait weren't you sentenced for the kidnapping and imprisonment of two young girls that you starved to death! Shame on you, giving us nice men with sweeties a bad name.

------------------------------Giving sex offenders a bad name!

I reckon George W could pass world legislation (he can do that you know!) that everyone must convert to Islam and pilgrimage to Mecca and the PNVD would still win the more Fucked Up award!

Rockstar Roy...

Some things in life ought to be celebrated more often than they are. This applies mainly to the annual celebration we bestow on an immeasurable variety of things. However then there are those rockstarish things that just when you are in the presence you feel like you are celebrating them, cause well, they are such so damn rockstarish...

If rockstars were cars Roy Patrick would be Henry Ford. He designed the prototype and made it work. He pioneered rockstardom like Yuri Gagarin pioneered space travel. He took it to new levels and hasn't stopped. He doesn't break records, he sets them! And he has been doing so for 23 years today.

------------------What don't you understand by pound-for-pound son?
Not only is this pseudo-frenchman the pound-for-pound strongest man in Cape Town he is also a budding accountant and celebrated rugby talent. In between walking the ramps of Milan, carving the defences of Stellenbosch and Clifton, throwing girls pies from moving cars, high-fiving the bouncers of plett, ordering 20 bottle beer rounds at bars, making girls disregard their incumbent white horses for him and taking his clothes off, he is just that nice boy next from Wonderland, and the rockstar we celebrate all year round...

Happy birthday Ferg.

Another cold cold cold rush…!

Don’t you just love SA rugby? I think it is fantastic. DSTV should use its plethora of vacant channels to dedicate one purely to the intriguing, captivating, bizarre and hilarious saga that is SA rugby. Only problem is it’ll be funnier than the Dave Chappelle show so probably shouldn’t be found around the vicinity of channel 28.

---------------------------------------What's the rush?
You have to agree that the most common trend in our rugby-phile nation is that everyone has an opinion on that state of the national rugby team. So here is mine. Has anyone noticed how they are all so very different?

A synopsis of the knee jerk reactions to the Brisbane Slaughter looks like this:
- Jake White: Honiss had a shocker and was the reason I rush-defense failed.
- The Rapport headline: Jake must go!
- Divan Serfontein: The faster White resigns, the better.
- Frik Du Preez: Blame the coach! If I was Jake White I would resign.
- Burger Geldenhuys: Firing the coach now, won’t change the immediate situation.
- Paul Honiss: Who am I the scapegoat for this week?

Thankfully the voice of reason belonged to Nick Mallet who rightfully slated White’s pre-game antics of trying to lengthen his post-RWC contract by bluffing the media into speculating he might have stood a chance against Sir Clive Woodward to claim the directing position in England.
Mallet also frankly hit the nail on the head regarding the reasons for the hammering citing, no openside flanker, an underperforming flyhalf and fielding inexperienced players in key positions in a major game.

White had a tactical shocker and his preparation was abysmal. Hopefully now he will abandon this rush defense bullshit, finally admit he needs a fetcher and concede that Jaco has underperformed at 10 and warrants a change.

The whole reason rush D can work (and I am paraphrasing its master mind Gary Gold) is your line rush up from the outside then moving in on the attacking player making a spot tackle on him, in his blind-spot. Key elements? Rush, blind-spot, tackle! So it isn’t working cause key elements 2 and 3 aren’t happening; they know you coming from their blind-spot so the element of surprise is nullified and the players aren’t making the tackle. Think Habana getting shrugged off by Giteau on his way to score his 2 try!

So for all White’s faults and cock-ups in the last 5 games is it still worth firing a coach when a World Cup that is only 11 months away? The level of retardation needed to answer yes to that question is higher than the average I-eat-with-a-cork-on-my-fork yardstick. White has been extremely successful up until these last 2 months. Replacing the coach now would be suicide. The rugby equivalent of Vince Lombardi couldn't mould a side in that short a time even if you gave him Dan Carter for fun, yet all these ‘ex-players’ are baying for his head!

SA rugby is fickle and still has the mind set that changing a coach solves problems. The ‘fire the coach’ attitude is as worthwhile as blaming a loss on the ref, and that might be why I support the All Blacks.

Shut the gates, see you on channel 21!

Monday...


I have been so tardy in the past weeks at actually making this post on time that my punctuality this week should be rewarded. For instance I should be reincarnated as the pole in the background of the picture...

A cold rush of blood to the head..?

I hate leaving the country. My penchant for staying at home isn’t linked to my burning trait of xenophobia or that I home-sickly miss having to chain my car to a tree every time I park outside Forries, instead I prefer not leaving my little country because outside of it you aren’t exposed to the same type of journalistic flair that our media possesses.


The media in other countries is subject to rigorous restraints that our media has proven are unnecessary limitations on trying to fill blank newspaper pages with print. Impeding constraints like fact checking, source citing, editing and well, the truth, stop many a world class article from hitting the desk in front of you.

I am not suggesting that all articles are lies or even complete lies. After all, the best lie is 60% true and 40% false. (okay my percentages may not be entirely correct but that is the beauty of it because you believed it even though they aren’t, and besides 93% of statistics are made up on the spot anyway)

In finding a way to keep in touch with our local media I stumbled on the e-versions of my favorite black and white fabrication pages, and the Cape Argus had this beauty for me this morning:

'MTV's satellite music channel has applied for permission to stage a one-off "unplugged" concert in the famous Cango Caves - starring Coldplay.'

Awesome! Stand down Robbie Williams. Chris Martin belting out ballads echoing off Precambrian limestone is music to my ears. They reckon the 800 seating venue of the Van Zyl Hall will be broadcast to 900 million viewers world wide and stand the Oudtshoorn municipality in line for around $2 million.

I love it. Our media is quicker onto to a story than a Bangkok fake DVD street tout is onto your wrist, and I can vouch to say that is pretty damn quick. It should be catch phrased 'the Chilliboy phenomenon'. When something or someone has the slightest inkling of potential thrust them straight to the top before they can say 'coldplay in the caves'.

I wish I could be a fly on the wall of the ANC headquarters administration block right now watching the applications stream in for political positions in the little Karoo.

Asia Time...


I think the subtle reference in the title to the widely used term 'africa time' is so subtle it could be construed as an exceptionally clever, and funny, play on words to hide my deep embarrassment at failing to produce a monday girl on monday. Or maybe this is just an excuse to add text to a post. Nevermind, give me a break, Thailand is 5 days (okay it could be hours but that rumour is unconfirmed) different to SA time...

Year of the Tiger...

No, no you silly little blonde second year girl sitting in Cape Town I am not referring to the opening of the club in Claremont but rather to what is surely the greatest event on the Durban social calendar, the Vodacom Durban July or as it is more affectionately known by those that love it the most... The VDJ or Jooly.

I have been charged with the great honour of being the Rockstar Journals official VDJ correspondent. This years main race was won by Eyeofthetiger, who for the record is the horse I would've put my money on if I hadn't had that bad experience last year when my R100 broke its leg and was unceremoniously shot on the track. In actual fact I didn't even see a horse all day other than on the big screen.

The event was a more elegant affair this year as we weren't dropped off by a sheep bakkie and I resisted the temptation to compete in the 13th race after victory (and a R500 Tiger Tiger bar tab) was snatched from under my nose a year ago.

In many ways though the Jooly stuck to its winning formula with the combination of fashion, gambling, and partying. After the obligatory milling around and finding my feet I headed off to buy my tickets for the afterparty at the tilt tent. Despite a queue that would rival that of a rockstar kissing booth, it turned out to be worth it. Next we headed up to a box and stocked up on some food and a few beers before a quick little stop in at the steward's lounge where I was a good 40 years below the average age. Then it was back to Tilt to meet up with the boys and see out the rest of the night. Despite the fact that most people I spoke to seem to have gone down in the betting stakes, a good time was had by all. I do however have a few good and bad ideas for the punters.

It is a good idea for girls to get all dressed up and the day definitely plays host to some of the most beautiful women the country has to offer. It is a bad idea to attempt to dress up like a beautiful woman and make a complete tit out of yourself because you are in fact a 6ft5 orange haired quasimodo.

It is a good idea for you and your partner to both look stylish. It is a bad idea for you and your partner to wear the same thing particularly when it is a disgusting outfit on its own.

It is a good idea to decide on a good afterparty venue such as the Tilt tent and later in the evening order a double Bacardi and Coke. It is a bad idea for a Tilt tent barman to run out of most drinks and attempt to dupe you into drinking a double water and Coke and accepting a R10 tip only to be discovered as a fraud when you lean over the bar and drink from the bottle while his back is turned. It is also a bad idea to have a wobbly section of the bar that falls over half way through the night.

It is a good idea to file through the entrance in an orderly fashion. It is a bad idea to lose your temper and punch the organiser and as a result be escourted to a secret room by bakkies botha and os du randt's twin brothers.

It is a good idea to be civil and possibly even friendly to your ex-girlfriend. It is a bad idea to go home with her sister (even if you end up sleeping on the couch) and then leave your cellphone out in the open where the aforementioned ex can find it in the morning and read smses from other girls, causing her to fly into a jealous rage, shake you awake and literally kick you out of the house.

As I said, a good time was had by all. Ascot will be a poor substitute next year.

Ah civilisation...

I have returned to civilisation although only just as Maritzburg wont be making any best city lists unless you enjoy being on the brink of dying of boredom, confusing street name changes and more recently an outbreak of killer flu which according to the Natal Witness is "now also striking down the healthy." Of course it is you simpletons. That's what getting sick means.

The Transkei was a magical time. There was summer heat, great food and fun company which made the fact that we broke our generator on the first day and our shower on the second worth it.

With cottage bedrooms named "The Pump Room" and "The Cock Box," one can only imagine what debauchery has occurred there but it truly was a magical place. Days were filled with a Survivor-esque challenge between two tribes which included eating competitions, beach golf and balancing on a log whilst having cow dung thrown at you. I can assure you that this was not my idea...

Monday HK…

This is a unique opportunity for you the reader to enjoy our first Monday girl from Hong Kong! No, she is not from this Hong Kong and no you aren’t in HK enjoying her (at least I think not) but she is been sent to you from the Samsung internet centre at HK International Airport’s departure lounge.

We’re specifically using Miss Lima here to entertain your Monday as a gesture of commiseration to the Brazilian football team and all their supporters. It was a shame to watch them bow out of the World Cup although it was more like Zidane bent them over like a cheap hooker.

However any people that were backing Brazil from South Africa can find solace in the knowing that another era came to an end over the weekend. Zuraida Jardine played her last show (please let it be for a friggan long time) as a DJ on 5fm. There was more chance of an England penalty taker finding the back of the net than finding an inkling of remorseful in the ears of any 5fm listener with half a peanut for a brain. Lovely!

I would stick around longer but there is this irate communist fellow with a baton, neon yellow armband and funny hat behind me eye-balling my expressive use of Adriana on the computer screen. Sorry Chairman, I’ll be done as soon as I google democracy…

[Just realised this has been posted on Tuesday but give me a break. I left Cape Town on a Monday and haven't slept. As soon as I sleep I will consider it Tuesday]