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!

The Weekend Ahead...

Okay so I am not one of those people who hail from a garage in Silicon Valley, CA and can do things on computers that not even McGyvwer could do with a full tool box but give me a break. Where else are you going to find all this weekends rugby fixtures, the correct SA starting times and which DSTV channels they will be on?

I'm big in the subcontinent...

Everything is big in Dubai. The buildings, the camels, the reduced price shopping bins, the 7's rugby tournament, horse racing and trying to get an EU passport. However, everything in India is small besides the street vermin and dance routines in local movies.

So although it is an achievement making it big in Dubai, you're just one of many. However, make it big in a country filled with over a billion street kids and snakehandlers and you're so main you can park your flying carpet outside any club you want.

It is for this reason today we laud the efforts of a true Cape Town rockstar. Relocating from Jozi at the beginning of the year the man immediately made a massive impact along the strip of Camps Bay and the 10minute walk between Leslie and the chicken burger stand. Effortlessly gliding along the man turned heads in a way that had many a girl (and guy) booking pshysio appointments. And he is only getting better.

robert p 98! (as those who have seen his z-card know him) is probably the best looking guy I know. It's true, and I know what you thinking and I am flattered but come on; how really does one know himself! Anyway robert p 98! broke Dubai easily but now has conquered the subcontinent.

He is the face of the equivalent to Axe in India and for that he earns our chicken burger. So keep a look out for his ads in stores from New Delhi to Jaipur. But move quickly they will be stolen and removed by screaming fans in no time. After all, robert p 98! is more sought after by the babes of Bangalore than Herschel Gibbs was by the punjab police...

This is just a tribute: Leaving on a jet plane...

Whoever thought that Tenacious D and John Denver would combine their immortal lyrical powers to head up the title of a post on a world famous blogspot? I am sure they once considered it in their wildest dreams or in a Rolling Stone interview but it doesn't matter cause it has happened...

------The duchess en route to Colesberg, kinda like a jetplane. Only quicker...

The reason of this post is dualistic in nature. It breaks the hearts of many, and send butterflies through the heart of many many more. Do you remember that joyous feeling of disbelief that flooded you when you learnt that Corne Krige was retiring from rugby and leaving Cape Town? Well, this is the same except totally the opposite.

A hero, a legend...nay a rockstar, is leaving Cape Town today. Besides returning for an exam and 75 hours of passion next weekend, he is leaving indefinitely, and a big Docstar shaped hole will be left in the life of Cape Town.

The flipside is that this moment brings life and hope to millions of girls in Durban, Colorodo and London, in that order, before departing and filling the hearts of the girls strewn across the beaches and bars of Spains... I know this makes him sound like a spirit and you're right he probably is one, but don't fear he will never shirk his duties for this site.

Harsh and lonely...

Today has been the first day that I could sit down and aimlessly trawl the internet. It was a harsh realisation that I made when it dawned on me that althought my life has been at a stand still the world continued without me.


I didn't realise you all could cope without me. I understand when I am asleep Tyler looks after you but what about when I am away on special assignment and I have to close myself off from the real world. (okay I was only in the throws of hectic exams but when I write it like this it make me sound more like a 007)

Well never fear people. I am back, with the scars to prove it...

Monday Girl....


It is a pleasure...

The return...

A lot can happen in 20 months. However the qualification to this broad generalisation is that although 600 days is probably enough time to succeed in anything it is definitely enough time to fail, 600 days over.

Success and failure are like good and bad reputations. It takes ages to properly attain the prior yet you can wash it away in the drop of a hat, a ball, a place, a position, a wicket, a girl, a share price, a standard, a sms, a baby etc...

It is this theory that makes it so easy to go off the rails, but so hard to get back on. [especially if being off them is sooo good] Now that I have gained your undivided attention through such hard work I better get along with it before it drops off...


You see. This saturday sees the return of someone whose success broke the recently unveiled mould as it was close to meteoric. He extended the continuum of fucking with my theory and by spending a long time failing. [I am just going to call them unrelated pockets of individual failures than one big long one so as not to rebut my argument]

"Off-field controversies [fat girlfriends, controversial autobiographies and speeding fines can ruin a man] , injury, suspension and a loss of form over the last 20 months have all combined to keep Henson from fulfilling his true potential." That's a direct quote from www.planet-rugby.com. Well guess what, he is back and you better put down your study notes to witness his return at 16h30 on saturday against Australia.

It may just surpass the All Blacks turning out at Twickenham as the best thing to watch on TV this weekend...

Docking...

These people have to be stopped. Either their cars need to be impounded or their brains need to be reconfigured because what they are doing is pretty much hacking up the lives of many others.

It is trite traffic law that you do not, under any circumstance, cross a lighted intersection if you are not one hundred percent sure you will make it all the way clear through. Oh why you ask you dumbass inbred commuters? Very simply because if you don't make it across and you pathetic nissan micra gets stranded in the middle of the intersection you block a clear passage for perpendicular traffic when the light changes for them...

I would assume you think it is too your advantage to be stuck in the middle of everything like Ridge Forrester in a 3 way but come the fuck on! Staying on your side of the little white line until the next light change over is no different, except in the latter I am not tempted to drive the 'lady of ecstasy' on the hood of my car through your temple...

Weekly round-up...

Since I handed in my thesis last week and I only have one pathetically easy exam in the reasonably far off future, I have resumed my behaviour from the start of the year. Now with people either learning for exams or working as corporate sluts, you'd think I'd battle to find partners in crime but last weekend witnessed the descent of 3 of Durban's finest young gentlemen intent on discovering the best of what Cape Town has to offer. Who am I to shirk the reponsibility I felt towards chaperoning them.

Thursday was a typically filthy Tiger night which saw me waking up on a friends couch on Friday morning. A Caprice lunch sorted out my throbbing head and prepared us for the Brauhaus Oktoberfest at 6 that evening. Things got messy fairly quickly and we were soon dancing to a fake Robbie Wessels held back Leeuloop and instead delivered classics like "Play that Funky Music White Boy" during which he would insert his own lines. For example...
"Play that funky music white boy...I love it, Do you love it?" and
"Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight...Wikky wikky wah"
We finally made it out alive and moved on to Fiction and the Durbanites finally crawled home at half 6.

Saturday night started off with Talladega Nights, the new Will Ferrel movie which, from GH#12's posts below, you can see has more than just a few cheap laughs going for it. The next stop was Maverick's. Now without trying to sound like a dirty old man (I'm not old), I feel like I have some experience in the strip club scene. My first digs was nearly 20 metres from the Cape Town Teazers, we used to make regular birthday trips there and I have been to Maverick's during the day. So with this said, I think it is a pretty weighty comment that the collection of dancers at Maverick's on Saturday night was the hottest I have ever seen at a strip club. Congrats Maverick's. Docstar stamp of approval for you. We finally finished up at Miam (well technically it ended at the police station but the fun part ended at Miam) where I rediscovered my taste for Jack and lime. I'm so sorry I ever neglected you my darling..

I showed poor form by skipping Caprizi on Sunday night but we were all in need of some rest and relaxation. The bad influence left on a jet plane on Monday and I thought I was safe but I was wrong. In the words of Bryan Adams, "The best was yet to come." There was still one Cape Town based examless creature who accompanied me to the Tiger Halloween party on Tuesday night. After a somewhat slow start, things picked up very nicely and after running into a few familiar faces and a few shooters, a good time was had by all. At one moment I was floored by a tall, blowjob cut, blonde angel (literally, she was dressed as an angel) all in white. She was the perfect foil to my all in black vampire and after I found her loitering next to me on the dance floor I offered her a drink. "I don't drink much," she said sweetly, accompanied by harps and violins. In what i thought was a highly original move, I offered her a shot of water while I had my tequila which went down well but it soon became evident that she was a bit bland and wasn't fitting in with the vibe of our night. Pity

To finish off a great week, I went to the Whiskey festival at the ICC. I'm not the biggest whiskey drinker and there was a stage where I was thinking of pulling out but man am I glad I didn't. R120 gets you plenty of free drink vouchers and there are oysters, cheese and chocolate to taste and if you can sweet talk your way into a lounge like the Johnnie Walker Lounge or the J&B Jet Lounge (thank you), free food and drink is abundant. It also doesn't hurt to have a friends working at two of the stands. The promo girls were out of the top drawer (Jack Daniels and Glendower were personal favourites), there was live music by Coda and an all-round good vibe. The good news is, you still have a chance to go so do it.

Enjoy your exams while I do my thing. Mu ha ha