RSLJ: Article 8 Angles…

Life can very easily be likened to a game. You spend a few months preparing, it begins and according to the game clock it will inevitably end. This could explain why people like sport so much. Sport is a game within your life game. Sport is like mini episodes of life that you get to either participate in or just sit back and watch.

To perpetuate my analogy many facets of life that people seek to succeed in echo a similar trait to one many sports have. At the end of a sports game the winner is usually determined by which team or individual racks up the most points. To outscore your opponent you have to exhibit an offense that trumps his defense.

So here is the thing, to be successful requires you to breakdown defensive barriers. For a pious person it would be to conquer the faith barrier and believe whole heartedly in a religion or god that you can’t test or prove. For a rugby backline player it is straightening the sliding defenses and having the pace and skill to then beat the cover. For an investment banker it would be to break into the emerging market before anyone else. For a suppressed minority it would be to abolish the restrictions of inequality. For a horny guy trying to get his freak on it would be the veil of coyness and aloofness a girl protects herself from horny guys with…

Hence I find life in many respects to be nothing more than breaking through a defense. If you find this argument non-sequitur it is probably cause you weren’t following. Moving along…

So what is the key to breaking D? I am an atheist member of a majority that has no interest in the corporate world with less skill on a rugby field than I have before a woman. However I am a skilled observer so can relate one of the most important facets of offensive play. It’s all about the angles…

Dan Carter has his flat attack drift thing which he easily straightens from to beat a slow inside defender. Reggie Bush has his unpredictable swerves, steps off both feet and more pace than a Japanese public transport system. Shaka Zulu had his bull horn frontal envelop attack that never failed. John Nash had his let your mates hit on her ugly mates tactic. Sun Tzu had so many angles of attack he wrote a book on it...

My elaborate (yet well elucidated) point? Whether you are trying to break into the corporate sphere, trying to win a Rose Bowl, crashing it up against the opposition, waging war against another state or just trying to score some hot ass you have to play the angle that suits you best and deceives the defense the most. And in that you have a winner…

To illustrate my point I am going to pillage from the lives of many idiotic men out there that don’t get laid cause they played the wrong angle. Actually it is not the wrong angle…it is the worst angle.


Drum roll please. The worst angle of attack that a guy can use to get into the pants of a prospective lady is the ‘friend angle’! [its official unabridged name is ‘ididntbackmyselftopullhersowebecamefriends angle’!] The reason is because it NEVER works. [some ‘nevers’ do have anomalies which I will explain in good time]

The reason this ‘friend angle’ is as futile as playing golf at night is that girls and guys can never be friends. Please read that again. Yes NEVER. Guys are only friends with girls under two circumstances. The first I have outlined above and the second is that he is gay. Every time a guy is friends with a girl it is cause he has the aim of trying to get into her la senzas, or he is not that way inclined...

[need I mention that every time I refer to a female I am referring to a hot female that is worth trying to jump into bed with? So if you are formulating the ‘But I have ugly girls as friends’ argument as a retort you are a perverted fuck who is trying to get ugly ass]

You see the problem with using this angle is that girls don’t realize that men are trying to project this image as a nice, lets go for coffee and be exercise and study buddy, guy as an effort to instigate a friendly game of hide the salami. This effort is horribly in vain, because girls don’t see this, they don’t consider you a threat to their chastity so they don’t consider you someone they would want exchange bodily fluids with…

It is for this reason that girls will fight whitened tooth and manicured nail with my statement that girls and guys are never friends. To them platonic has meaning; to guys it is laborious foreplay that isn’t going to get you on the scorecard.

You don’t like my theory? Test it. Go out there, find a nice broad and become friends. Straight up from the start don’t compliment her, don’t flirt with her, and certainly don’t send her any fuckme stares. The result? She will tell her she loves you! You see, girls say I love you to friends. It’s the absolute kicker. Because she does love you, as a mate.

Give up the angle bud. It’s the worst there is. One night she may get drunk and use you as an orgasm crutch but the next morning she will regret it and say she has ruined your friendship, no matter how much you protest the opposite. And don’t feel special cause you got some ass, girls kiss their girl friends all the time. If anything it just bumped you up a few notches on the will&grace ladder. Continue like this and your man card is soon to be revoked…

Monday Maxim...



Swimsuits...nice

Bullshit!

I let very few things piss me off to the extent that I actually want to do something about it. At the end of Shrek 2 when the big green couple had the option of living the rest of their lives as hot humans and they refused, I didn’t email DreamWorks and say “come the fuck on…”! When SANZA gave SA another franchise for the expanded Super 14, I didn’t make “At least the Stormers won’t come last!” t-shirts. When the Wynberg magistrate confiscated my license I didn’t appeal! When Katie Holmes started partaking in statutory rape of Frankie Muniz's little brother I didn’t bitch and moan or…err…make Free Katie shirts…

You see? Pretty much an easy going laid back kinda guy…! However some things are just so erroneous and iniquitous to society that I have to get off my lazyboy and do something. I took a big fish to task on this matter, and since I am a huge advocate of equality so will heed a lesser fish no mercy.

Earlier Nancy Gibbs (23-12-2005) felt the wrath of the rockstar muscle for her ambiguous use of the term. You should hopefully see the sarcasm in my reference to wrath as we all know she hardly gives a full page advert space for webbloggers that gripe her use of the English language. Knowledge of this before writing my view didn’t sway me from sticking it to The MAN (the gender inclusive man) and neither does the purposelessness of my view now dissuade me…

I came across another incorrect usage of our beloved term during my yuletide net surfing. It pissed me off that the text on the site is written in white and to ‘cut and paste’ it you have to change the colour to read it. Fucking annoying but as I said, I am an amiable kinda guy… (besides I suppose blue on white is used by splattermail.org, and borrowing their idea would make you no better than someone who steals from say... wwtdd.com…like…um splattermail!) I digress.

Here is the kicker: “It's true, anyone in Cape Town can be a rock star. Christmas obviously bestowed some new shades upon the faces of our pseudo rock stars.”

What the fuck??? Everyone in Cape Town can not be a rockstar!!! You need a webblog specifically stating you are one. It’s like a 00 license to kill; you can’t buy such decorum at 7eleven. Admittedly the second sentence is more correct in that it implies these people masquerade as rockstar when in fact are very far from it. That’s believable.

But an audacious quote giving hope to the little people out there is just cruel. It’s like letting a white guy compete for the 100m Olympic gold. Why don’t you just rip his heart out and stand on it and save him the embarrassment of only crossing the finishing line when the black panthers are halfway through their victory lap…

How many cape town cockdiesels lay on their beds that night making a mental note to replace muay thai gloves with rockstardom on their next xmas list???

Okay, so the quote is probably a little out of context and there were some high points in the article, but the rockstar references are totally incorrect and off beam. The author even goes as far to imply that if you drive a Citi golf you are not a rockstar. Swear to god it is there in the text, just narrow your eyes from the glare.

What so I guess you have to drive a 2001 Golf 4 GTI to be cool, or does that also fall into the 'cars not considered rockstarish' category? It’s not what was on the price tag bud; it’s who is behind the wheel…!

Got cheerleaders?

I have been in this country for close on a month and there are some pretty nice things here. The sport is incredible. Everything about it from the teams, the contest, the skills, the athleticism, the personalities, the coverage, the analysis, the hype to the results are awesome. The thing is it isn't just sport it is entertainment! So my favourite facet of American sport?...halftime!

Most people are sports-mad here so everyone is into it but if you saw what was going on along the sidelines you wouldn't blame them...

Cheerleading probably started out with some lame ass historical reason concerning team spirit and crowd involvement. Thankfully it has grown from its pathetic earlier days into something far more important. Tertiary education institutions actually consider it a sport. There is no fuckin way it should be considered a 'sport' but lets not argue the issue and agree to allow it to fall into that category of 'sports' (read: we just call them that) with synchronised swimming, curling, caber-tossing, short-indian-man-tossing, dressage and soccer.

Why are we thankful it is considered a sport? Because it allows universities to give out scholarships and sporting bursaries to those that excel at it. What goes hand in hand with sports bursaries is the academic protection afforded to topclass athletes by their sports coaches so their respective departmental heads will turn a blind eye to their well below average semester results. The end result? Hot college chicks aren't forced into stripping or prostitution to pay for their tuition and the varsity does its level best to ensure they don't get academically excluded!

[I suppose it's redundant to point out the tacit fact that looks and intelligence are inversely proportional in women. I read it in fhm so it must be true. It can't be true for men cause that would make my IQ below 35 and the intellectual equivalent of a paperweight.]

Back to cheerleaders. Every team in nearly every sport has them from the High School basketball team to the the famous Dallas Cowboys. (Icehockey doesn't but I think it is cause icehockey is for fags) But besides their abundance, cheerleaders are also (a) hot and (b) easy [hearsay] and (c) have the primary goal of making you cheer...! Go team...

So what is better than loads of hot girls, in tiny outfits, with prurient intentions and the sole aim of making you happy? (this must be a rhetorical question cause I can't think of an answer...)

I did pick up two interesting cheerleader related anecdotes though. The second is visual so you can just scroll down. (at your own peril) I noticed the first while watching one college football side wrap up a victory against another side to win some pathetic low-key bowl. (it was the New Orleans Bowl, which is like the equivalent of a waterpolo showdown between St Davids High and Jeppe, so basically it is like the Currie Cup)

The postmatch celebration is being shown on ESPN (told you the coverage was incredible) and the victorious coach is walking over to give his condolences to the opposition when one of his cheerleaders comes bounding over and puckers him a huge sloppy one of his lips. For a few days I was very impressed with this old dude for 'hitting' (american term: I think it originates from playful high five???) this young cutie who is on the cheerleading squad of the football team he coaches...

However, just before he was submitted to the committe for 'rockstar of the moment', I caught this picture on a website that describes the offending cheerleader as the coach's daughter. The offer of his name for the award was duly rescinded, but he is up for the douchebag award cause he obviously doesn't realise how many of his linebackers are 'hitting that'...

Presents with presence...

So I asked Saint Nick for an Ipod Nano and the fat fuck joined forces with the lovely people at apple.com and fedex and managed to have my request gift-wrapped under my tree on the morning of the 25th. (plus it had rockstar laser engraved in the back casing)


The thing I love about it, is it is simple to use and has a few cool features but is lank tiny. Now I didn't need a digital camera, I already have a watch and a cellphone but did need to upgrade my portable listening device. So the nano was the obvious choice for me...

However looking at the competition it gets from multifunctional products I don't think I got a raw deal. Imagine this thing on your wrist...! You would have guns like Boyd Varty...!

Merry Christmukkah…

Firstly I am not taking any credit for this merge of religious holidays that is Christmukkah. I bow down to Seth Cohen superior holiday ingenuity but am happy to perpetuate the idea whilst swigging eggnog, opening presents (hopefully a nano), making snow angels (hopefully if it snows) and mainlining mince pies.

I am spending this year in the USA as most of you know and they really just take it to a different level than I have ever experienced. It’s pretty fuckin awesome. Outrageous lights on every house, trees bigger than linebackers and with more decorations than a joburg chick in first period, radio channels have dedicated their playlists exclusively to xmas carols and I even saw a reindeer, although I am in the South and it was lying on the side of the road looking fairly unhealthy…actually it could have been just a big ass possum.

However, I am extremely lucky in that this year in the States they tried to de-Christianize the commercial side of this time of year and stores were forced to take down their ‘Merry Christmas’ banners, and replace them with the more inclusive, non-denominational ‘Happy Holidays’. What a joke! Damn man, you don’t need to be Christian to buy cool things to give to friends and family, and you certainly don’t have to be Christian to accept it. I am atheist and I love getting stuff. (there is also a certain girl out there that will vouch that I also love giving but lets not digress)

This commercial swing they are trying to stage is pretty ironic though cause even if you do succeed in replacing every Walmart Xmas sign with ‘Happy Holidays’ you haven’t achieved much. A little research into the background of the word ‘holiday’ will have you find that it originates from “Holy Day” which…err…is also Christian. Oops…

Moving along, I do have that overwhelming Xmas feeling but it may just be the eggnog and this rad reindeer sweater. Anyways, I just wanted to wish all your rockstars and your respective families out there a wonderful, safe, and awesome Christmukkah…

-------------------Voted most sought after gift this xmas...

About Time...!

Ever heard of Nancy Gibbs? Neither had I until I searched page 44 of the latest Time Magazine to ascertain who exactly was responsible for the rockstar related quote that I found before me on the page…

“Rock stars are designed to be shiny, shallow creatures, furloughed from reality for all time”

I loved the quote and found it necessary to write a bit of my mind on it. Now Nancy Gibbs is not the kind of person you engage in a literary spat about the correct definition of a term with, no matter how strongly you feel about it. If I was to hurl e-mud at people I would choose an easy target like…say…AJ Venter! Well actually I wouldn’t cause that would be too easy, like taking the virginity from a Wynberg Girls High matric girl (assuming she still had it) and besides Seth at 2oceansvibe has already picked him as his starting nemesis.

As editor-in-chief of Time Magazine, Nancy is a bit of a rockstar herself in the literary world. She has degrees from Yale (cum laude) and from Oxford. She was also the professor of journalism at Princeton. Christ she has seen more IVY than will ever grow on the walls of where I got my little ass degree.

----------------------------------Probably not home-coming queen!
So I have established that when it comes to the English language she is going to kick my ass like I was Graeme Smith touring the antipodeans. However, I will not back down and take support from the fact that I am definitely better looking than her. Even if I was to level the playing fields and dressed up as a chick I would still be better looking than her…

Anyway the biggest gripe I have with her quote is not that I think her definition is incorrect. She was referring to Bono in her article ‘Persons of the Year’, so in this context she was defining the binge-drinking, drug-taking, hotelroom-trashing, sunglasses-wearing lead singers that fall under the generic term, rockstar.

What pisses me off is the confounding of this (admittedly more common) literal use of rockstar with the way we use it. [if you’re wanting a definition of how we use it, get the hell off our site] I suppose we use it figuratively. But I don’t like using the word figuratively as it is pretty fucking gay. It’s like holding up a banner saying “I am a pretentious literary git that reads the oxford concise instead of playboy before I go to bed at night and throw out any word cause I know you doubt that you can properly use it so won’t take me to task over it”.

Fuckin long banner I know, so in an effort to be less complex, it’s like using ‘furloughed’ when absent would have sufficed…

I am shiny and shallow though…

RSLJ: Article 7 Cheaters shouldn’t prosper

Imagine if girls were like cars. I could now go on with cute little innuendos like ‘riding them with their tops down’ or ‘checking their undercarriage’ but that wouldn’t be the coolest things about girls being like cars. If girls were like cars us men would find it easy to understand them, be more able to control them and maybe find it easier to rev their engines. But alas women aren’t cars, we aren’t that lucky. However there is one glaring similarity I find between cars and women…

[If you are a raging feminist and find it abhorrent that I am likening females to vehicles I remind you that this isn’t a blog that caters for the feminist taste so go click elsewhere, or stick around, you might learn something]

The similarity I find between cars and women lies in the representation of their body work. If you have driven the streets of Kraaifontein, North Pretoria or the Durban beach front and walked the passages of any shopping centre or social place you will know what cars and girls I am writing about.

I’ll use the streets and passages of Cape Town as a snapshot of my point as that is what’s closest to home for me. You don’t have to travel all the way to Kraaifontein to see the cars I talk of but I am pretty sure they all originate from the Northern Suburbs.

It is not an unfamiliar sight along the streets of varsity to see cars that have morphed from bottom of the price range hatch backs into something that came out of the mass parking garage in the 2 Fast 2 Furious. People take their 1.4 Citi Golfs; 1.3 Toyota Tazzs or 1.6 Honda Civic and “sup” them up so they look like their ride got pimped by Ludacris and West Coast Motors just without the massive budget…

So you end up with this tiny ass engine dressed up like a street rod. The ways to do this are endless: side-skirting boards, aerofoil spoilers, low profile rims, ejector seats, tinted windows, a CD suspended from the rearview mirror, an exhaust big enough to stick your head in, racing seatbelts, chrome pedals and a sound-system with more output than the speakers at a Slipknot concert. Viola, we have mom’s old hatchback transformed into something that resembles what an East Coast Crib drug runner would drive around the projects in…

Now girls aren’t very different. They try their utmost to make their mediocre model look like it should be on a runway. Girls, like impressive car technicians have tricky deceiving ways to dress themselves into something that fallaciously coaxes men into believing they are actually hot. The results of this are dire for the poor guy as when the sun comes up he has to deal with weeks of abuse from his amused friends or risk injury to limb and life by throwing himself from a balcony window…

This ability ugly girls have to embellish on the truth of their looks is actually a well documented (small play on words here) phenomenon by a certain Doc Louw (aka Mr. Campus 2002, 2003, 2004 and 2005) The Good Doctor coined the term “Cheating” back in the days when chicken burgers were still R8 a shot whilst sitting on the stairs of varsity surveying the latest crop of females. In his latest book ‘5 years at Varsity for Highly Successful People’ the Doctor goes to great detail in uncovering all these ‘cheating methods’ and I’ll share with you some of his work:

The intro deals with the fine line between beautification and cheating. Beautification is how the pretty girl accentuates her most prominent features whereas Cheating is how an ugly girl pretends to have prominent features. Unfortunately some ugly chicks are so wily in their ways the true difference can only be told once it is too late and you are standing naked in her bedroom armed with durex gossamer; a bottle of chocolate syrup and her size 12 leopard print g-string…

Method 1: High heels – The porksword always sports the latest pair of Manolo Blahnik knock-offs so you never really realize how chucky her thighs are or how short and dumpy she is. Result: Mrs. Potatohead resembles Gisele strutting down the runway…

Method 2: Padded bra – Kerry McGregor wears a bra that emphasizes her wondrous assets. Miss Surf Board 2005 wears the padded bra to create the allusion of perky boobs. Kerry classifies as beautification whereas the girl with a chest like the pulse of a cadaver is cheating.

Method 3: The Haircut – The Vereeniging Facelift is the age old technique of pulling your hair back so tight it stretches your baggy faces into a beautiful smooth façade; however this is no good to girls with fiveheads or large proboscises. Instead girl now cut a devious longer fringe, coined the “Blowjob Haircut” by the Doctor, that masks their ugly feature.

Method 4: Sunglasses – Ever seen that blonde girl on campus with those huge sunglasses that make her look like a graceful European beauty? Wait for next semester when she is in your law tut and she takes them off and you realize the deception as the rounded Gucci profile hid 60% of her horrid face…

--------------------Beautification v Cheating.

Method 5: The jersey wrap – It is 30 degrees on campus yet she has bought a light jersey to varsity and instead of leaving it in her car (probably a supped up vw) she has effortlessly tied it around her waist. This is not a practical cover-up for her weather misjudgment but rather a shifty cover-up of her semester long Wacky Wednesday misjudgment…

These are all stylistic methods ugly girls will employ to bump themselves up a few rungs on the points ladder but they use other tactics like only frequenting the dimest lit clubs (Fez lighting has done more for girls appearances than Virgin Active ever did) and buying guys drinks. When a guy has to make a judgment call nothing so impairs his ability to tell the difference than a night fuelled by her extended credit line behind the bar…

All I can say is beware! This is not one of life’s lessons you want to learn through trial and error. Rather learn from your lesser informed mates’ mistakes…

Monday Girl...

We haven't featured one of these in awhile so concerns were being raised about our sexual orientation. We stand proud of our long history of heterosexuality and if any of you hot girls out there want us to 'show you' we can happily do the whole Friday Night Lights thing...


Especially if you look like this...

And the winner is...

Here at Rockstars Journals we are willing to admit that although we are not always right, we are never wrong. This is an example where we are not right...

We chose our babe, and we backed her. But in a landslide final vote Allie C from South College beat our young Sara to claim the impressive title of Hottest College Girl of 2005 hosted by Collegehumor.com.

Oh well atleast we didn't bet on her. She will just have to settle with 2nd prize of dating our other contributor...

Hits, Misses and Heismanns…

So I made a promise to unveil the most amazing douchebag I could find during my stay in America. Luckily I didn’t go as far as saying I would produce the most amazing definition of the term as some guy got collegehumor recognition for his attempt. [collegehumor recognition in the bloggin world is akin to Angelina Jolie going down on you for winning an oscar in the movie world]

My list is slowly getting longer but will remain secretive until later, however it’s worth checking out his hierarchy so as to familiarize yourself with the concept. [orothrules.blogspot.com: 05/12/2005] He was obviously inspired to compile the hierarchy after reading our article the previous day. So I’m giving him due recognition. [rockstarjournals recognition in the bloggin world is akin to Angelina Jolie going down on you whilst the Victoria Secret models simultaneous give you a lap dance in anyone’s world]

-------------------------------I'd like to thank the academy

So I missed out on that but I did manage to be privileged enough to partake in a four day tourist jaunt to New York. The trip was an absolute hit. The freezing temperatures and driving snow would put off a few merry travelers but nothing was going to stop me from doing an “I’m the king of the world” impersonation on the Staten Island ferry, making out with Paris Hilton’s Madam Tussandes replica (hey she hit on me) or making snow angels in central park.

More of a hit however was the flight to New York itself. Now the flight time from my southern departure to LaGuardia airport is just under two hours, if you take into account the time it takes to avoid roadkill on the runway of my southern departure, and to pass the time I glanced through the skymall.com publication…

Briefly this magazine is just a catalogue of what you can buy from skymall.com once you have safely stowed your fold away table and ensured your seat is in the upright position. However this run of the mill compilation of must have xmas paraphernalia has no peer in its genre of easy buy magazines as the gadgets and goodies inside are of an marvelously ridiculous nature.

There were a few that I did find cool and worth the $15 delivery fee like a portable blowup Jacuzzi spa, the remote controlled hovercraft (batteries not included), the underwater radio and the backyard ice rink. Yes an ice rink that you can set up in your own back yard, assuming you live in a place with freezing temperatures, like New York! Good god if I had one of these as a kid (and if we didn’t live in the Karoo) I would be here playing for the New York Rangers not making snow angels. It’s fantastic.

Skymall caters for every lazy person alive. The pet owner section of the magazine was a treat. Get this they have a ‘pet stroller’ and you can supersize this to a ‘double-decker pet stroller’. It is the same as taking your infant for a walk. You strap it in and away you go, except you do this cause the infant can’t walk. So you take ‘firdel’ for its daily exercise without actually letting it do any…

In keeping with the lazy yet active person we have the ‘Never-lose-another-golf-ball putter’. (they actually call it that?) It is absolute junk but that doesn’t allow me to take anything way from the engineering marvel of combining a golf club and a fishing rod. You see, you take your stance, putt the ball AND instead of walking to fetch it you ingeniously reel it back home. What a must for those that putt the ball prodigious distances…

They have countless such inventions but the one for me that eclipses the greatness of the aforementioned two and the ‘hand-held paper shredder’ (just incase you out the office and the letter the agency sent you won’t self destruct) and the ‘inflatable travel dumbbells’ (you fill them up with water to Ron Burgandy them in the hotel room) is the ‘rearview spyglasses’!

As its name suggests the people from skymall.com have surpassed the latest trend in USB and MP3 equiped sunglasses and bought (direct to your home for only $29,95) these SPYglasses.
I was going to try write something funny ridiculing them but like all things that cater for douchebags they self-deprecate themselves so you don’t have to go through the trouble. This is from the actual website:

“..the Rear-View Spyglasses are built with a special coating that allows you to look straight ahead and still see behind you. when you put them on, look out of the corners of your eyes and you'll see what's going on- and no one will know you're watching him or her. It comes with a stylish case, too.”
After a rushing average of 101.2 yards in his last two games, no one was surprised when USC tailback Reggie Bush won the 05 Heismann Trophy. But maybe they just had eyes in the back of their head and saw it coming…

And the home of the Stripmall...

After a longish lull in the production of high quality blogging fare the executive body at rockstarweb have decided to send their star (intended) contributors to the furthest reaches that limited resources would allow so as to add an international flavour to the site.

I drew the short straw and got sent to the mighty US of A, while co-rockstar was left spinning bottles, flaring cocktails, bouncing shakers and spading Camps Bay glitterati in his cockdiesel black beater.

Actually I think I got the long straw but we’ll compared notes later to reveal the truth. Anyway the short result is that I am in the land of the strip mall for close on two months and will do my 'bestest' (that’s a word here) to try and uncover how rockstars live in this part of the world.

As a side from this I also aim to uncover the biggest douchebag on my trip (that’s another word here). Douchebag is the term given to categorise those out right idiots of the world. In SA or more specifically Cape Town context think those absolute beauts who lean against the burger pie counter from 1am onwards at 24 hour woolworths exchanging mythical drinking tales or barraging defenseless females with their heroics of slipping past the bouncer and 200 queuing minnows outside Pulse before mainlining Jager-bombers and dancing on the bar with that gold-belted shirtless Mexican looking fellow.

You know the kind I’m talking about. They are as ubiquitous in Cape Town as gay marriages will be in Sea Point post Friday. I’m going to try unearthing these amazing fellows here and exposing them to the world. My reason? I like being amazed, and they’re amazing…

Lata ya’all.

RSLJ: Article 6 The Battle

Every rockstar is constantly faced by a variety of trials and tribulations in every day life and beyond. Now of all these little tests or life battles, some are common to all rockstars whereas some are unique to only certain of them. These unique ones depend on the type of star the rock is and the type of life he would lead.

-----------------------------------------Battles: Strategic

To add a personal edge to the article I’ll share some of my personal life battles. The everyday mundane ones include which beater to sport under my t-shirt, whether or not to upsize my ‘vide’ americano to a grande and whether to smash a chicken burger before or after 5th period. The more significant ones go along the lines of which course to study or whether to do an ‘all-nighter’ or to hit the sack immediately and try wake up at 4am. Of course there are more important emotional ones but neither do I want to write about them nor do you want to read about them. [if the urge to read about such emotional battles persists try cosmo.com or a heavy dose of vodka and sleeping pills]

Despite the different types of lives men have and the difference in their degree of rockstarism all men share one type of battle. One horrible facet that plays an important role as any in the world war that is our life is that of ‘Pulling Chicks’.

Now ‘pulling chicks’ is not the cockdiesel quote a rockstar throws out as the goal of an evening out, we leave that to the collar-up backwardsideways trucker-sporting idiots. ‘Pulling chicks’ is the generic term for coaxing the most beautiful women (according to our means) to linger within enough propinquity so as to fall prey to our magnetic charm and rico gearish finishing ability. No matter what degree of rockstarism will hang from the eulogy on your tombstone, every guy will ‘battle’ in this department.

You see that ability of your ‘pull’ is of no consequence when it comes to sweeping a showstopper off her feet. Showstoppers are not the metaphorical marlins you hear about during drunken Greenman conversations that jump into your boat and catch you unawares. Showstoppers require a hard arduous determined battle that I dare to define as a war of attrition. You really have to work, you really have to battle.

However there is a part of my coherent argument that is a wee bit fallacious. You see the part about where all men share this battle? Well if it is the rule, then there is an anomaly. Now I haven’t met the rockstar but he certainly doesn’t share this ‘battle’ with the rest of us. In fact the only battle he probably has to fight is where best to spend his wealth of good looks, fame, fortune and omnipotent given talent.


Dan Carter certainly doesn’t battle with pulling chicks. The dude is 23. He is the first choice flyhalf for the best rugby team in the world, which means he is the best flyhalf in the world. And if you doubt that then ask the IRB. Now I was pretty sure by watching the kid carve any type of defence thrown at him, kick a pigskin through uprights from any angle, run circles around every nationality of mere mortal defence and that assisted with his good looks he was always going to whip chicks. However he now just got the accolade of the best rugby player in the world for 2005.

You know that sick feeling you have in your stomach on how disgusting it is that he got all that in one go well its about to grow like a cancerous tumour. When asked about his award he replied, “it’s been a pretty big year and I feel pretty humble to receive an award like this…”

So the oke is like a 9, he has more sporting gifts than an aspiring jock on his 7th birthday, he has girls drooling over him like he was the latest addition to the Guess accessory range and worst of all he is so supremely confident in himself he can be disgustingly humble.


So that adds to our shared battle, cause now we have to battle him and he is like the wall of Jericho. Never fear though if we join forces he is little we can take him…

The Filly, The Witch and The Competition...

Okay so CS Lewis was onto nothing at all similar to what I am but whatever. So I have been harping on about this America's Hottest College Chick compo just cause it is ...well...blady awesome. It's like the super 12 but without rugby and not in april. Anyway the four finalists has been chosen and with reference to the post below, we have:

Semi Final 1: Chelsea v Sara
Semi Final 2: Rachel v Allie

Now for the one we have chosen to back. It was a tough decision to make was this one but not cause we don't find it obvious who the hottest girl is but for because a certain rockstar (aka accomplice contributor) drank an amount to which it would be quoting to describe and has been unavailable for sometime now to have the capacity to be conferred with, and we have had to deal with the horrible fact that our IDOL filly got axed from the final two for this weekends show down, and have since doubted our abilities. We gave our faith to Nicky when she changed her name from the beastly dutch-esque vera-whatever and placed it mainly in her ample bosom and sexy legs. Unfortunately the requirements in SA to be an singing Idol is the same as been a radio personality, looks play no roll. (look no further than Gareth Cliff for proof, if your stomach is strong enough.) We've decided to back ourselves and Sara...

Moving on I made reference in a previous post about uncovering an interesting twist in the competition. Prosecution would like to submit evidence:

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Now the first picture is what Rachel used to accelerate herself quickly into the quarter finals. It is a great depiction of what looks like an incredible tanned body sexily strewn over satin sheets in bright lighting. Very conducive to prompting half the male population of the world to vote for you! However she was obivously (assumed) to have been asked enter a more clear photo of herself as she is obviously cheating the camera and the votes. Hence the 2nd photo where it is exposed that her gavinhenson skin colour is actually closer to a scottish square dancers calves which goes with her flaming wortal hair...

There is no doubting the witch has a fit body but I would like to laud the man who uncovered and pursued this truth. Can you imagine the injustice of serenading a girl, taking her home to the comfort of darkness only to discover the next morning that she flames jumping from her scalp? Not cool...

I Just Want To Feel...

How cool is the internet? Whenever something new and wicked comes around people always use that killer cliché “it’s the coolest thing since sliced bread”... What a crock of shit. How can glorified carbohydrates shaped in thin longitudinal segments be considered the bench mark of civilization. Surely sedgeways, blogspots, ipods or mini pizzas out strip Albany’s finest in the last dash for the title…

Okay even if they don’t, the internet definitely does. I know there are some extreme technocratic psycho conspiracy theorists out there that think it is a tool the US government uses to control civilization by perpetuating 3rd world debt, stealing credit card details and distributing porn to the rest of the world so as to retard the rest of the world’s ability to gain power and develop into a contender when it comes to the World Cup of Big Dog nations quadrennial, but such people are twats.


But how cool is this net thing anyway? Sure you can buy anything from asian children to sliced bread on it but for fuck sakes you can’t buy Robbie Williams tickets. Fair, maybe it is just SA’s lack of a decent website in Computicket.com (our powers have been retarded by the US and their sneaky schemes) that couldn’t cope with the inundation of screaming female fans that logged on at 9am this morning or this net thing is overrated.

I just wanted to feel the that amazing flash mobbing sensations of 10000 like minded screaming school girl fans and most of Cape Town’s ‘Seapoint’ residency pushing and shoving me to and fro whilst that pommie ex-boyband Rockstar serenades some knebworth-esque fat bitch with one of his wicked tracks…

Oh well…

We're Back...

I know it has been an absolute age since we put something up but you know how demanding preparing for a world tour can be. But now that lifes lesser commitmets (and the subsequent 3 day binge) are out the way we will be back doing this...

And to herald this great occassion is a lovely little post that we have promised ages ago about how the collegehumor.com America's Hottest College Girl is going.

Well we know who 2 of the final four are and who is contending for the remaing two spots. AND I uncovered an intersting little twist in the competitive saga... all will be revealed...

And representing the North part of the country is: Chelsea

And represnting the East: Rachel

Slogging it out for the West: Jacintha v Sara

and for the South: Miranda v Allie

So those are the girls that have been narrowed down from the countless nubile chicks that managed to get past the screening stage. We're going to pick a favourite and back our filly. (just as soon as rockstar accomplice wakes up from his hangover...)

Up to you....

Depending on your personal preference in regard to silly arb witty humour you'll either love these or think they really stupid...

1. Two antennas met on a roof, fell in love and got married. Theceremony wasn't much, but the reception was excellent.

2. A jumper cable walks into a bar. The bartender says, "I'll serve you,but don't start anything."

3. Two peanuts walk into a bar, and one was a salted.

4. A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

5. A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says:"A beer please, and one for the road."

6. Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this taste funny to you?"

7. "Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home.'" "That sounds like Tom Jones Syndrome." "Is it common?" Well, "It's Not Unusual."

8. Two cows are standing next to each other in a field. Daisy says to Dolly, "I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you,"says Dolly. "It's true, no bull!" exclaims Daisy.

9. An invisible man marries an invisible woman. The kids were nothing to look at either.

10. Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bull before.

11. I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't find any.

12. A man woke up in a hospital after a serious accident. He shouted,"Doctor, doctor, I can't feel my legs!" The doctor replied, "I know you can't - I've cut off your arms!"

13. I went to a seafood disco last week...and pulled a mussel.

14. What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.

15. Two fish swim into a concrete wall. The one turns to the other and says "Dam!".

16. Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly, so they lit a fire inthe craft. Unsurprisingly it sank, proving once again that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

17. A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standingin the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After aboutan hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse."But why?", they asked, as they moved off. "Because", he said, "I can'tstand chess-nuts boasting in an open foyer."

18. A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption.One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Ahmal." The othergoes to a family in Spain; they name him "Juan." Years later, Juan sendsa picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture,she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Ahmal. Her husband responds, "They're twins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Ahmal."

19. Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time, which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath.
This made him (Oh, man, this is so bad, it's good)....A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

20. And finally, there was the person who pu twenty different puns in his blogspot, with the hope that at least ten of the puns would make people laugh. No pun in ten did.

Monday Girl (late...)


Yes Yes I know its tuesday but monday was busy, so its not my fault that Brook is late but I would mind giving it a try...(making her late that is...late for work)

The Debate:

We said it was coming and it is. Our two Rockstar contributors [Rockstar & GH#12 ] will be going keyboard-to-keyboard in a randomly selected debate. We randomly chose an interesting topic and then randomly chose sides. Hopefully the results won't be random.

The rules of the stand-off:
Purport your argument in less than 500 words and keep profanity to a minimum, actually fuck it just keep it short.
Otherwise, its no holds barred.

The Topic:
Rat Pack v Frat Pack












It should be good and it should be coming soon...

George Orwell...

I know the whole Orwelian Big Brother is watching you things is one of the biggest cliches ever used, but I am jumping on the band wagon - even though I know its like flogging a dead horse, and that you should never kick a man when he is down or count your chickens before they hatch or call any kettle black - I am just going to do it.

We ... are watching you. Yes YOU! Yes, you in Mauritius.

Are you here?

Just hope you read the site and laugh and don't sit there and shake your head. I am going to take this opportunity to invite you to comment when you choose. Please feel free...