Rockstar of the Moment...



This post has been rarer than the inner thigh of an undercook first year doll of late (which is oxymoronic since there are plenty of them running around lately) and we have refused to lower the bar to allow average achievements to sneak in an award.



The bar is still fuckin high and our awardee today is fuckin worthy. Over the weekend was the famous Argus Cycle Tour and the hard training of one of our renowned rockstars Scotty Forest earned him a fuck off quick time of 2h58.

Now considering Robbie Hunter did it in around 2h40 it was certainly an effort worthy of a chicken burger. Nice work Scotty...

Crimes of passion...

There has existed much debate in this country for some time in regard to the lawlessness nature of society. Rape, murder, robbery, assault and so forth are more common conversation topics at a dinner table than an SA Super 14 victory...well...up until now...


The resurgent Sharks, clinical Cheetahs, imposing Bulls and apple cart upsetting Lions have all squeezed out some impressive victories at home and have continued the trend out over in the antipodeans, although a clever man's betting money will say the bubble is going to start bursting for these sides soon...

I predict the Sharks will actually win on tour and get a home semi before they snatch defeat from the jaws fo victory and choke like they do at every silverware party and the Bulls may also sneak a semi berth if they lucky. However the Cheetahs will need some massive luck on the road and the Lions have already peaked. The Cheetahs may snatch and grab a few but the only certain victory the Lions have left is against the Stormers.

I revert now to the intro paragraph where I started my focus with crime in our Republic. No I am not posting a Planet Rugby/Ladbrokes hybrid prediction sheet for the rest of the Super 14 but more interestingly enough I suggest I am pointing out a glaring correlation between SA rugby's recent success in the global competition and the apathetic approach to criminal laws in the country.

You see, for me the manner in which these SA sides are gaining victories round after round paints the picture for how they are going to do toward the business end of the competition and to my mind the manner of these victories is contemporaneous with the criminal activity of this country...

------------------------------The Usual Suspects...!

To exemplify my thought, it is trite that the victories of the SA sides has come from their ability to score 7 points at a time, something which was never a facet of the SA game until the introduction of the 5m penalty lineout and Blue Bulls tank formation push over. Now we have tires left right and centre with the scoreboard tic(k)ing over like a wynberg street kid under a bridge.

My crime reference? Well, because SA sides don't scores tries through the letter of the laws of the game but rather through 'burgling' them at any opportunities. Charge downs, intercepts and the Hail Mary cross field bombs are the only way SA sides score tries. The Aussies and Kiwis don't need staunch defences, they need burglar guards...

Autumn Break..!

The summer hangover has probably reached its zenith for most of you and the hard slog of varsity or, god-help-you, work is taking it's toll. It is a strange part of the year when everyone is dead keen to start afresh yet no one has fully given up on the party ideas from yester-month...

That's what is great about summer holidays in the Southern Hemisphere. They coincide with religious festivals, hence our secular states enforce work holidays and bang just like that you are seaside with hurricane glass and an umbrella.

Now depending on what is your particular brand of vodka some of you might have foregone this solar opportunity and headed Northward for some easy dead presidents, easy american ass, plentiful clean powder and apparently very flexible narcotic controls.

I for one would never consider abandoning summer for winter. However, autumn follows summer and spring follows winter...and from what friends in the North say, spring kicks autumn in the balls...

Monday...




I've decided to pick monday girls that portray my feelings... I woke up wet and in a wife beater. Fair enough...

Cheap fruits...

I have always hated flying. Besides the fear of crashing the novelty of being airbourne kinda wore off after I was forced to experience it for 16 consecutive hours and that's not including braving traffic to the airport, waiting for a parking, queuing for your ticket, for security control, for boarding, for your seat, for access to the bathroom, for disembarking, for your luggage etc...et-fuckin-cetera...

Basically you can reduce airline travel to waiting in a series of uncomfortable positions for as long as leaving your front door to arriving at your destination takes. Now I could happily spend 16 straight hours in uncomfortable positions with this young lass but you see you still have to pay exhorbitant prices for airtravel whereas this girl looks fairly cheap...

However, the one cool perk about airtravel which made it barely stomachable (that and the same transoceanic journey would take 16 days in a canoe) was that because airline is expensive, your fellow passengers are rich enough to afford it. And since girls love money, rich guys have hot wives and hot wives produce hot daughters so you're almost guarenteed to bump into a hot girl somewhere between take-off and touch down... (Think Tyler Durden the ass or the crotch dilemma)

We now have a major problem. Low-cost airlines. They have reduced the cost of flying and made it accesible to the public. This is firmly against my beliefs of privileged capitalism but more so it has made flying the equivalent to catching the bus.

I just flew from Cape Town to Oliver Tambo I thought I was stuck in the extras-trailer for a Jeff Foxworthy roadshow. I am fine with sitting between an ex-Miss World and last years cover for SI Swimwear edition but between a khaki clad mullet sporting de la rey war hero and the obese daughter of my destination airport's namesake is not my tray of airline food. (not that I got a tray of food since my cheap ticket couldn't subsidise it or the aforementioned copulently inclined co-passenger smashed it while I closed my eyes for the take off death rattle of the cheap plane...)

And you can't really blame me for flying with this airline rather than the 4 times the price other ones since it is human nature to take the cheaper option right? Except I didn't realise my flight experience would be akin to spending a longhaul bus trip en route to attending a tow-truck convention with all the loyal members squashed around me on the back seat.

It was positively horrible. The big thing is that the normal old airfare has become so outrageously expensive in comparison that the price one would have to pay not to forego a 35ooo feet up 'reach for a dream' encounter is not feasibly. In effect the airlines have created first and second class distinctions inter-plane rather than intra-plane. And my poor middle class ass is stuck in limbo sharing cabin space with those that socialism was created for...and then have ugly daughters...

ABB Monday Girl...

A message to the reader...

Dear Sir or Hot Ma'am,

It has come to my attention that you have experienced a degree of neglect of late in regards to postings by a certain Mr Gavin Henson. I would like to account for this occurrence and offer my most fervent of apologies.

I have recently become very close with the aforementioned GH#12 through a commercial transaction and I have got to know him very well through our close interaction. I can understand how forlorn you must be at not experiencing what I have of late and accept that you may even harbour a jealous inclination toward me but I urge you to shelve such feelings of ill will.

Not enjoying the man's fast wit, humble demeanour and incredibly good looks can be very taxing on an individual; and as such much of the world beyond cape town is in a demur disposition at present since they cannot share the radiance of the man that you do.

Mostly he neglects those lucky enough to be around him due to commitments in sensational areas of life and I can say without fear of contradiction that in this instant it is no different. Mr Henson has taken a short sabbatical from writing to learn how to use his newly acquired Personal Video Recorder.

Don't stress though, you are in his thoughts as he toils with the 100 page information guide and the easy to use universal remote control and again lucky for you he is a fast learner and will be done soon. Further in your own interests is that once he has master it he will not have to spend time away from you in fear of missing anything multichoice has to offer as he can just record it to his 80 hour video hard drive. Lucky you!!!

His PVR is even so advanced it learnt how to crack into Mr Henson's blogger account and how to type. Unfortunately it could only post pictures like those you have witnessed.

Kind regards,

P

Only in Britain ...

Could you get away with these:

Some of the finest double entendres on British TV & Radio

Michael Burke on watching Phillipa Forrester cuddle up to a maleastronomer for warmth during BBC1's UK eclipse coverage remarked: "They seem cold out there, they're rubbing each other and he's only come in his shorts."

Ken Brown commentating on golfer Nick Faldo and his caddie Fanny Sunnesonlining-up shots at the Scottish Open: "Some weeks Nick likes to use Fanny,other weeks he prefers to do it by himself."

Mike Hallett discussing missed snooker shots on Sky Sports: "StephenHendry jumps on Steve Davis's misses every chance he gets."

Jack Burnicle was talking about Colin Edwards' tyre choice on WorldSuperbike racing: "Colin had a hard on in practice earlier, and I bet he wished he had a hard on now."

Chris Tarrant discussing the first Millionaire winner Judith Keppel onThis Morning: "She was practising fastest finger first by herself in bedlast night."'

Cricketer Neil Fairbrother hit a single during a Durham v Lancashirematch, inspiring Bobby Simpson to observe: "With his lovely soft hands he just tossed it off."

Clair Frisby talking about a jumbo hot dog on Look North said: "There'snothing like a big hot sausage inside you on a cold night like this."

James Allen interviewing Ralf Schumacher at a Grand Prix, asked: "Whatdoes it feel like being rammed up the backside by Barrichello?"

Steve Ryder covering the US Masters: "Ballesteros felt much better today after a 69."

The new stand at Doncaster race course took Brough Scott's breathaway..."My word," he said. "Look at that magnificent erection."

Willie Carson was telling Claire Balding how jockeys prepare for a big race when he said: "They usually have four or five dreams a night about coming from different positions."

A female news anchor who, the day after it was supposed to have snowed and didn't, turned to the weatherman and asked, "So Bob, where's that eightinches you promised me last night?" Not only did HE have to leave the set,but half the crew did too, because they were laughing so hard!

US PGA Commentator - "One of the reasons Arnie (Arnold Palmer) is playing so well is that, before each tee shot, his wife takes out his balls and kisses them"

Harry Carpenter at the Oxford-Cambridge boat race 1977 - "Ah, isn't that nice. The wife of the Cambridge President is kissing the Cox of the Oxford crew."

Ted Walsh - Horse Racing Commentator - "This is really a lovely horse. I once rode her mother."

Pat Glenn, weightlifting commentator - "And this is Gregoriava fromBulgaria. I saw her snatch this morning and it was amazing!"

New Zealand Rugby Commentator - "Andrew Mehrtens loves it when Daryl Gibson comes inside of him."

I'm fine with her on Tuesday too...

Varsity servers are as predictable as most joburg girls, always going down...

She shot me down Bang Bang…


The life I lead is not exactly sufficient to earn me the title of a Gonzo journalist. The conspicuous reason for this is not my lacking vocational position as a writer, let alone delusions of grandeur to even qualify as one but instead it is the deficiency of Hunter S-esque Gonzo fervour in my lifestyle.

Beyond my commitments the time I have reserved for my social life is one of the 3 weekend nights. I realise that this reduces me to a retired student but come talk to me when you get your 2nd degree. The point on which I endeavour this rambling to finally fall is that because I hardly go out, when I do I aim for it to be for a special reason. And it was special, and eventful enough to warrant a post…

[Had I in fact been a real journalist I may have had the skill to write that all in a lot less line space and since I’m not you can’t blame me...]

The special event to warrant me venturing off my coricraft was the recent opening of a new club in town and I wanted to go check it out, The Bang Bang Club.



Affectionately known as Bang Bang, the place has been an inadvertent victim of suspense marketing. You know how manufactures let your know about their latest product and then don’t release it for 2months so you build up anticipation and interest because it’s something you want but can’t have? Think Xbox 360, or don’t, anyway this happened here.

Pronounced to open at the beginning of November 2006 the compact building in Loop street didn’t get to open it’s doors until last week, February 2007. The reason for this was the sneaky intervention of competing clubs like Opium and Chrome who have the financial sway with the powers that be to prevent a start up from impinging on the lucrative season market. What they didn’t bank on was an irate public building interest to finally go check the place out that had been spoken of at such lengths…

The venue is pretty sick to say the least! An ornate entrance hall takes you to the bottom of a sweeping staircase. Standing at the bottom you look heavenward onto a 20ft wide poster of a blonde Guess girl that would make Hell a worthwhile place to visit she kept the gate of Hades and you just got to see her upon arrival…


The medium sized club is spaciously set out with the very high ceiling and split level design giving you that school boy feeling of sitting in the cavernous chapel on a Sunday night after a long weekend shaking with anticipation to share weekend escapade stories with your peers. The venue is decked out to the max with flash finishes that don’t err on the side of overkill, plasma screens, impressive sound equipment and get this big fuck off air-conditioners that make the inside of a walk in fridge humid. Seriously the place is so well ventilated you could kite surf your fishbowl, but when you (and I quote a major shareholder) ‘owe the bank a million rand’ you get your monies worth.

The only bizarre thing about the place is the upstairs loft area that sports leather couches and a view of the bar craving people below doesn’t have a bar. Okay, not having a bar upstairs is not really as bizarre as the reason. The reason is they do, they just put a dry wall around it. They built a fantastic bar at the far end of upstairs with the access stairs on the other. The problem came when the council decided that upstairs meant they exceed the allowed floor space of the venue. But to solve the problem they closed access to the bar instead of getting creative about it and block off the first part and keep the bar…

(Call me naïve, call me sexist, call me judgmental but you can’t call me wrong on this. I don’t have pretty digital photos of the place to give you a visual idea because taking a digital camera out with you to a club is an idiosyncrasy reserved for girls so just deal with that. If you want to know what it looks like, get off your ass and go check it out or I suppose you can get one of your chick mates on facebook to post her photos of it on there…fag.)

However, they solved the bar problem upstairs in a very effective albeit not unique way. They have a waitress taking orders. This is where my lack of journalistic skill and refusal to look like a camera sporting tourist plays a huge role. I don’t have the words to describe the 5feet of important Italian angel or the photo to tell the thousand words. Thankfully I keep company with a mature and experienced guy who could fill the blank space that is this little girl in words. I would have gone with the ‘greatest thing to come out of Italy since Cannavaro’ or the ‘Italian Job’ but he nailed it with ‘she might be the reason I fail GDA!’ Lovely.

Bang Bang could easily be the new best thing in town…

Fest-ering....

I am contemplating a career in event organisation. It doesn't sound too tricky and if you're good at it, and it's not rocket science, you can make a decent turnover. There is obviously a long history of failed events that were just plain pathetic (think all you can drink keg party at Oudekraal including free wors roll and party bus) but I reckon I have a future....


The plan. Large low cost venue that can fit as many overpriced ticket bearers in as possible. Some form of entertainment, famous or otherwise. A "no booze through venue gates" policy, with overpriced alcohol available inside for your captive market. Security, to enforce said policy. And a catchy name...

One problem. I think I have been beaten to it and by someone far bigger than me and far more able to incur heavy financial losses..! I talk of Coke Cola Ltd and 5fm productions. They have brought us the sequel to last years COLAB extravanganza...!

I heard COLAB was pretty sweet. A normal entrance fee of 350ZAR, a couple of decent bands, and queues longer than Argentinian national anthem for the beverage stands. Apparently the queue for the ladies was so long they were handing out re-entrance tickets for those who wished to join the back of the queue which was out the gate.

However 2007 is a bounce back World Cup year so they powers behind our live entertainment sector have squashed the ante with a rejuvenated plan for a 12 hours Cock fest, I mean Columbian Coke fest, I mean...MY COKE FEST 2007..!!!!

On the band bill are the world famous one hit wonders Hoobastank and Evanescence. HBS had that number 1 chart rocket that had Brownsugar salivating the song title every saturday on her world chart show for at least 2 weeks (I have successfully blocked the song name from my long term memory to keep out the reverberating tune so refuse to delve into my recall to name it here but look it up, it's the only song they ever made) and Evanscence had that even more impressive 3 immortal week stint at the top of a chart albeit it was the "Old Mutual Cycle for Humankind and All Things Poor Chart" which was the headline chart for the Old Mutual Cycle for Humankind and All Things Poor that our editor, Rockstar, so ably took part in...

Okay B team aside, the COKE FEST, (I love saying it quickly) also inculdes the no sarcasm here 3 Doors Down and is headlined by Guns n' Roses. I am actually a 3DD fan but I am also a 36DD fan so I suppose thats irrelevant but having GnR is pretty wild. I can't really remember any of their musice but they are on enough vintage tshirts to assure them a decent modicum of fame and respect. (the bearded non-linguist at MacHarry's sports one and he started the crocs phase so back the fuck down any detractors)


A fifth band is still to be confirmed...

Anyway was real gripe is how the fuck can you name your event something so close to ridicule and ambiguity that the public are going to come up with it's own nom de plume to hide their embarrasment at admitting they spent their weekend and 4 hard earned buffaloes at a Cock fest, I mean Coke fest... It's like your kid walking late into class and the teacher enquiring, "Are you Gaylord?". "No ma'am, I'm greg...!"

In our language admitting to a Coke fest visit means you either spent saturday night at TinRoof at 3am or Opium's ladies toilets at 3am. Either way, not something you want to shout out across a room.

I will eat the paper this is written on tomorrow if they announce that the 4th band is Snow Patrol but then again I don't believe november rumours from 3ft high dwarves that also say they DJ and have a Z card...

The Challenge...

Our good friends at collegehumour.com are running a series of competition of late to keep you busy between facebook and hanging yourself. I hope that since you are reading this you are on your way breaking free from both these horrid ends.

Moving along, the first competition is for the stupidest question in a varsity lecture. So far it is mildly amusing. The second competition is for the "Hottest College Girl". It's still in the fledgling stages but I might find the latter a tad less mild...

The Nominees

A) University of Massachusetts, Amherst, MA

In a class called animal virology, talking about the different kinds of viruses.

Girl who never puts her hand down: "What kind of virus is bacteria?"

Professor: "You should drop this class."

B) University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth, MA

During my Ethics class today...

Professor: So there are 5 people that need organs, and they will die tomorrow if they don't receive a transplant. A healthy person comes in for a routine check up. Is it right to kill him and use his organs to save the others?

Dumbass: How can you live without lungs, a heart and kidneys?

Professor: You can't. That's why this is an ethics course.

C) University of North Carolina, Charlotte, NC

In an intro to biology talking about heart conditions related to cholesterol

Professor: So can anyone tell me which gender we associate more with heart conditions?

The Brilliance: Old people!?

D) Southeastern Louisiana University, Hammond, LA

Happened today in my Econ class...

Professor: Okay, put everything away, we're having a quiz today to make sure everyone's been studying.

Genius: Can we use our notes?

Professor: *Sighs* No.

E) Iowa State University, Ames, IA

Bio Professor: ...so that is why if you don't drink enough water, one becomes dehydrated and could eventually die.

Blondie: Why can't we just drink our spit?

Bio Professor: Leave please.

TGIM....

Will you both be my Valentine?

Happy Valentines Day. May you be struck by Cupid's arrow or even better, by this...

Ben Kweller: Ugly people can be rockstars too...

Take a look at the gentleman above. No it is not one of your teenage brothers pimple-faced mates. This is Ben Kweller, a musician whos music I have been vaguely familiar with for about a year. Being a bit of a live music junkie I decided to see him in concert in Aspen last night. I found myself sitting in the front row while this guy delivered one of the best concerts I have seen. He played all of his best tracks, did a cover of the Eagles' Take It Easy, and then when someone cheered him on shouting "Play that funky music white boy," he damn well played that song too for a laugh. Far too talented...

The Faithful shall rule the world...

We give to the world every day by blessing it with our presence but now we've decided that not everyone deserves this. Its aboput time we gave to the few people we actually like.

Do you consider yourself a regular reader? Did you get goosebumps when you read our first post ever? Have you laughed with us and cried with us? If so then you may just be suitable to join the Faithful, the Rockstar Journals' regular readers rewards program. E-mail us at rockstarweb@gmail.com and tell us about your favourite Rockstar Journals article, rockstar moment, or what being a rockstar means to you to apply. Hey, you may even get yourself published.

The Wrap...

After a long and completely unjustifiable absence I am back. A thousand apologies. I hate being away from you.

Now we here at the Rockstar Journals consider ourselves social commentators. Hence, generally the blog contains superbly well-written articles about subjects we find interesting or things we have observed in the world around us. Sometimes however, we just get up to such cool shit that the site is used as a vehicle for personal story telling or news conveyance.

Regular readers (stay tuned for our regular readers rewards program) may well have noticed that I have mellowed out alot and it has been many moons since my last outburst of rage. This is probably due to the fact that i'm having the most awesome time of my life.

In private correspondence with GH#12 a while back, I said that I would post a wrap-up of the X Games weekend. So severely has time run away that the event was in fact 3 weekends ago. Conveniently, I have had two further "rock out with your cock out" weekends since.I know you have all heard of the X Games. If you haven't kindly leave this site now you loser. Having never snowboarded before descending on Aspen for this season, I have watched highlights of the games on TV in awe for the past few years. Seeing them live was a mindblowing experience. The pipe is probably the most hyped and publicised event but the games consist of many more events, including Captain Insanos doing tricks like backflips on snowmobiles. Phenomenal....The games attracted 65000 people to town including some friends from Vail who had some very what-happens-on-tour-stays-on-tour moments such as one chap sleeping in a bank. Its ok that i shared that with you because i didn't mention his name. I just made that rule up. Use it. Anyway, the weekend was good fun in general with an Everclear (the Volvo Driving Soccer Mom guys) concert to kickstart the festivities and a nailbiting snowboarding pipe finish to top it off.

The next weekend we returned the favour and visited the Vail kids. We bundled 5 people (including the South African snowboarding legend, the Flying Peppadew), 4 boards and a significant amount of poison into the 2007 Grand Cherokee (oh yeah) and drove through and Friday night to stay in a 3 bedroom house which already had 15 residents. We woke up the next morning with headaches all round and the peppadew in jail for urinating on a car. The official police term for this is depositing waste materials. Hilarious. By the time we had bailed this delinquent out and got out on the slopes it was after 12 which gave us just on 2 hours of riding before the guy who sleeps in banks tore his acl. Great host...To his credit, this didn't stop him from joining us for the Fray concert that night. Another great weekend down.Two down and one to go...Last weekend saw the arrival of the Bong (this is a person) who visited from Los Angeles where he shares a gym with the likes of Jake Gyllenhaal. We showed him (the Bong not Jake) a good night on the town on Friday, took him snowboarding on Saturday where he hurt his knee on the nursery slope and then had a braai in the snow that night. Mmmmm. We also managed to catch some Super 14 through our brilliant discovery of the website, Mediazone. I intend to use it to watch the Sharks win all their games until I get home.

So, there you have it guys and girls. The 3-in-1 weekdn wrap. I will do my best to keep the posts more frequent although now that Gh#12 is back at varsity he should be as prolific as last year.

Happy Birthday Big Guy...

Its hard to be humble when you're so fuckin rich, successful and good looking by the time you are 33. Which is today by the way!

TLC for Monday Girl...


Poor little monday girl has been horribly neglected for over a month so we are back with purpose to rectify her to the lofty position that she deserves. I am choosing this angel to headline the take over since I like where her head is at..!

I would also kiss myself if I was that pretty...hold on... I am! My kids may grow up with one parent...

RSLJ: Article 14 Take my face off…


By far one of the more nauseating human traits is when someone ‘gets beyond him/herself’. Most people are hard to stomach in their own right but then exists the middle class of people between the people that make you want to swallow your own car keys than engage in conversation with them and the upper echelon of society, rockstars. This middle group is sort of like a conversational bourgeoisie.

As mentioned this middle class is potable to a degree but like running water can become rancid and insipid rather quickly. This happens when they ‘go beyond themselves’. Breaching this translucent line differs from person to person depending on the poverty of their middle class situation. Let me place this is context.

Say for instance at the Sunday after Met catch up braai the boys are gloating about their weekend conquests and a young lad constructs a story about how he innocently gave two fillies a lift home and it turned into a world class samoosa orgy. Oh shut up kid, we know it didn’t happen! Save some of that spice for the meat; you’re going beyond yourself!

How this relates to the subject of this article may be as clouded as the judgment of the previously mentioned two fillies in choosing the embellisher as their transport home but I’ll clear it up shortly for you.

To my mind the technological advances that the bright people in lab coats make everyday are startling and they advance society in big giant steps but I think people are too caught up in the gimmick trend side of it and jump from one advancement to the next without realising that the incumbent step that they just rendered redundant achieved the same thing…

Hence, we are so caught up in being the first to catch onto something we miss that point that we don't even need it. We go beyond ourselves..

Now to prove my admittedly clouded point I will use a snapshot of something that has brought myself under some heavy fire of late, but I am fine with that…because now I will tell you why...! Rockstars and Showstoppers, let’s talk Facebook… (more like a narration but stop reading when you know I am right*)

Communication is luckily for me an aspect in which I am experienced enough to talk authoritavely upon. Ever since my parents sent me away from the harmful kryptonite deposits on our home planet to this one I have been an interstellar orphan and had to build my relationships founded on solid communication.

Every argument advocating facebook delivered to me has centred on the point that it is the easiest and most efficient way to communicate with your friends. You can make photos available for all your friends to check out, you can send them cute e-gifts, you can leave little messages on their walls that they then can check and reply to so you don’t have to waste time sending out emails and you can poke them at will. I like the poke part but lets not digress.

Fearing oversimplification but for the sake of argument facebook is just an online tool that you can connect all your friends wherever they may be into one fuck off web and communicate with them at the touch of a button. Agree? Brilliant!

This does achieve a useful objective, as mentioned I am skilled in the art of trans-geo, -oceanic and -planetary communication and this brings all my important people into my laptop room. Differ with me here if you will but I think you might find it difficult, everyone can categorise their friendships and relationship into degrees.

The degrees differ according to various factors like, the length of your friendship in years, how you know the person, what you have been through and the physical proximity you have with them. All these culminate into how ‘close’ you are with them. Since this is an emotional term that extends beyond me feeling hot or cold I am not going to try and define it but I think you get it…

The school friend you have known since you got thrown out of Mrs Larner’s English class with in std 1 and have been thrown out of numerous places with since is a 1st degree friend. The guy you shared a history tut with in 2nd year and still have mutual friends is a 3rd degree friend. Any arb guy after that becomes an acquaintance.

Here is where distance plays a role. The rockstar special A grade friend you rocked cape town with during varsity may up and put the Atlantic between your exploits but when he returns, even for a fleeting 72 hours of passion a few years from now you pick up straight away from pole position on the starting grid. You see, that kind of friendship eluded convention and you don’t have to instance message each other to vindicate that.

However 2nd and 3rd degree friend need to be kept in contact with otherwise they slip down the starting grid and may end up in the pitlane with Tokuma Sato. The distinction, you communicate with the rockstar friend because you want to, you communicate with the others because if you don’t you lose them. The solution. Facebook!

I say bullshit. And my degrees of friendship analogy should make that clear. I am going to gloss over the whole privacy issue because it is such a glaring loophole in the facebook argument that it is unfair to attack it from that angle, and the story of how a girl got raped over MYSPACE in America kind of proved my point.. I am also not going to throw cheap low blows at the system either by ridiculing how people portray themselves in the photo profiles with sepia tones or my placing a better looking friend in the fore of the picture. Instead I am attacking the core. The communication that is fast and efficient argument.

Breaking it down like this may make it easier. You are either FB-ing a friend in a far away country or one locally, or you are in the far away country FB-ing back home. So back to my friendship degrees, if you friend far away is so important to you surely you can make the time to send them a more personal, and private email through which you can communicate on a level that reflects the strength of your friendship. You want to chat? Do it in private on gmail, because that is faster than FB and private, or sms the guy. Ha!

Now this aspect of FB really perplexes my brain. Why the fuck do friends who live in the same city FB each other. Please show me a more plastic uninvolved fake way of continuing a friendship. Why don’t you meet up and have a proper conversation. I think it is a sad time when 10 friends interact over a plasma screen when they could rather all meet at one place and do it properly. Call me old fashioned but I like to be able to look my mates in the eyes and punch them on the arm when they’re being stoopid.

If that aspect perplexed me then this one really confuses the fuck out of me. You take a year off, leave everything behind and spend loads of dollars to go overseas to see the world. You get there and then spend 2 hours everyday in the WiFi section of Barnes and Nobles writing on the walls of all your friends you left behind. Come the fuck on! You could have achieved the same thing with half the money by buying an HSDPA 3G vodacom package and a state of the art notebook and driven up the West Coast for 6 months. You go overseas to meet people and interact with another culture. Stop facebook poking the girl you never came right with at varsity and go chat up the cute girl sitting across from you near the espresso machine because she is American and that makes her easy…

You want to keep in contact with your real friends. Take the time to email them. You want to show them pictures of what you doing? Gmail them or start a blog. It’s quicker and you might end up with more photos since you will spend more time hitting on girls with your cool accent than FB-ing mates stuck at home. And those photos your mates will really want to see…

In a walnut. The craze that is facebook serves a superficial purpose of mass interaction with numerous people but doesn’t suffice to qualify as the substance a friendship needs. Yes it is fast but so is email or sms. If you’re in Rome, spend your Euros trying to bang the daughter of an emperor don’t spend them in a dingy Internet café. If you’re at home get out of the house and go meet someone face to face.


You may raise the counter argument that I spent 20 minutes at home typing this advice rather than following it. Well, with great power comes great responsibility. This blog gives us the power to get you laid so it is our responsibility to bear the burden of sacrifice to do it so you spend less time on facebook and more time with legs wrapped around your face.

Remember, young hot vixens throw their sex cards at us but that is why we have the authority to have a lifestyle blog not a result from having one….

(*Please note that if you read as far as the starred parenthesis you unwittingly agreed with everything I said, cause at some point you will have to stop reading…like now…thank you my people)

The start of a long season…

Caught up amongst the sun, the shine and the cuervo of a decent december holiday you would be forgiven in failing to notice that its already February and more importantly the Super 14 came early this year. This weekend has to be the biggest sports bumper bus in a long time.

Super 14 has begun, 6 nations starts tomorrow and yes, Super Bowl XLI is on Sunday (Monday morning for us)…!

The Real Animal Farm...

My descriptive imagination doesn't contend with the likes of George Orwell before me but my ability to pass off work hinged on the ideas of others is unrivalled. Hence my reverse elbow inside ball on the sweeping slopes of the sandy C4 touch field looks fantastic and has epic results but truth be told I stole it from King Carlos like the bartender at Caprice's main bar stole the vibe of the other one at the groove bar...blonde wake up hair, finger trucker and retard speech, you know the one...


I pilfered Orwell's satirical allegory to bring before your eyes the reason I have been unable to tend to our loyal flock of sheep that is the RSJ readership. As you will know I spent the summer pursuing the glamorous lifestyle of a camps bay bartender. As you will know after reading this, that the Club Group that enjoyed the service of my employment is run worse than Orwell's windmill and by a dictator that leaves Napoleon the big up for the 'boss of the year' award...


As with every farm, it is built on a complex system with multiply facets. This one is no different. It started out with a company that specialised in the recruit of low wage low skilled farm labourers, that it could easily exploit for many hours labour and a next to nothing wage. This company won the tender for a government contract to the tune of R800 million and so it began.

The senior partner of this company, Napoleon, took his massive profit and started a massive commune. The commune consists of 8 different venues and the one I laboured on, Beach Farm, was the latest addition to his empire of pigshit.


Despite Napoleon being gay-er than the new Millers rollerskate advert he was surprisingly devious in his money tactics. He opened a subsidiary company to his first company that would also specialize in labour recruitment but exclusively to stock his 8 farm venues with plentiful labour that he could manipulate rip-off and control with his vicious team-ster of dogs dressed in black power suits, black power ties, and drive black power cars.

Now the pig Napoleon is really rolling in it. In fact he rented the farm at 250000 haybales a month for only a 5 month period. Yes that is 1,25million haybales, and he threw in renovations to boot. Bearing in mind the very successful farm next door only rents for 35000 haybales a month.

So why then does a farm leader so dripping in cash choose to screw every single person who works for him out of any piece of straw possible. After relieving his first appointed manager of his duties for doing horse steroids in the barn at the back the farm was left unmanaged so a good management team was put in place. After a month the one new manager was refused pay and the other only paid half. The 3rd manager was then assualted and Napoleon just apologised saying that would suffice in dealing with the matter.

One night a party was held on the farm to celebrate the birthday of a famous french farmer. The generous frenchman left 26ooo haybales for the farm labourers on his black AmEx. Napolean deducted 10% service charge for running the card, 14% VAT on the gratuity and 30% PAYE, leaving the servants with half. You lying prick! How on earth can you justify that...

Of course the little servants could do nought and were left toiling with beuacracy, double shifts, no communication and scant pay. One great example among many would be the homeless famrworker Mike that received only 25% of his monthly salary from the company because they had the policy that unless you had a bank account you would only receive that portion of your hard earned hay! Despite this policy, other works did receive cheques as payment. Stealing from a homeless guy...nice!

The lengths of which these pricks went to screw the only people that worked for them was unbelievable. Hence in one day they lost 1 out of 2 managers and 6 out of 7 bartenders (the stayers being related to a member of the dog pack) and countless other things they'll never even know they lost...

Fuck you, you pricks...but we're having the last laugh.