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.