Around the World in (an as yet undetermined number of) Days ...

I landed in Biarritz expecting to find sunshine, sex and sandy beaches. I got beaches. To be fair as I exited the plane I did have one young lass invite me out for a drink at the aptly named "Pub" that evening. Granted she was a sprightly 80 years old and the aforementioned "Pub" belonged to her grandson, but hey, you gotta take what you can get.

Sporting what can only be described as "man-fur"

After exploring all Biarritz had to offer (20mins) I retired to my luxury accomodation (read youth hostel) for a well earned meal and some rest. Rising the following morning to catch my train to Bayonne and the onwards to the border town of St Jean Pied-de-Port, I noticed I had quite possibly, ever so slightly, overslept. As the chronically unemployed will tell you - it does no good to stress oneself - and as such I took a leisurely breakfast before heading to the station.

To my amusement; I had just missed the first and last train, but luckily another one arrived at 10:55AM, 2015AD. Wisely figuring I would be just about hitting a mid-life crisis by the time the locomotive arrived I hopped on the next horse and carriage.

I have been asked why I would choose to walk from one side of the earth to the other - I think the reasons are far better summed up by one better than I (and by that I mean he had access to an English layout keyboard) :

"The conquest of the earth ... is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much."

- Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

My Uncle Johnny Did Cocaine...

The GROUP used to be one forged on solidarity, proximity and goodlooks. The middle of the triad has fallen away but the other 2 have just increased exponentially. Spread across the globe like African footballers we keep our lives mingled by email and visiting each other in our power caves. No cameras are allowed in the caves, but I can show you an email...

The GROUP member shall remain anonymous since I couldn't get his necessary consent for this so when he comes out from walking through the jungle in Borneo and checks the site he might be surprised.

This is the poetic extract:

"Moving along...at the same time Richie was deep inconversation with by far one of the hottest blonde girls I have ever seen. I lunged, she said her ex boyfriend was standing behind me gnawing off the top of a Hennessey Brandy bottle and crouching in 'kill pretty cape town boy position'. My tongue rolled off eloquent reasons why she should get over him and onto me. I walked away head held high and hit the dancefloor.

Read that again if you dont believe me, but it is true. Jamming away with 4 other bermuda boys and she pulls up. I enquire about whether she is here to live her life or not. She replied she was...I swung the shit out of her for 90minutes. I have ever danced only 93minutes in my life and the first 3 min were with my mom at my brothers wedding but for an hour and a half I was Frank, I was Vincent Vega, I was fuckin Robbie Williams. She loved it.

The events that follow are hazy but priceless so going in point for:
O4h30- music off, lights on, kissing the NUMBER 1 belter on Sunrise's dancefloor.
04h31- last english person in Sunrise.
04h35- swept out by management.
04h36 - hoisted onto shoulders of random awestruck locals for kissing their NUMBER 1.
04h40 - Sitting in front seat of my hosts four door Ford Streamer with her in the driving seat and 5 people wedged in the back seat
04h40 30secs - Two of the 5 are female, one of which is her digsmate
04h41 - the other 4 live in the same complex as her, hence the lift.
04h42 - one of the guys is massive!
04h43 - massive guy is drunk, aggressive and quoting Jimmy Abbot.
04h44 - massive guy has labelled captain insano as his most respected wrestler (massive guy now referred to as capt insano)
04h45 - a minutes silence
04h46 - the startling realisation that captain insano is in fact the exboyfriend of previously mentioned NUMBER 1.
04h47 - reassuring hand on Richie's leg from NUMBER 1 not as reassuring as one would expect. 04h59 - safetly inside #1's apartment wishing digsmate goodnight as she heads for bed.
05h00 - standing naked inside #1's room with naked #1 on knees, on floor, conducting fabulous fellatio.
05h00-05h45 many many many slippery sexy porno steamy epidsodes of repeated physical interaction. #1 not believing the skill of young well trained Mens Health rockstar. Richie thanked MH.
05h46 - straddling Richie with her virgin active thighs #1 asks if Richie wants to go 'further'.
Richie replied: "I am sorry if I have given you the wrong impression but I am not that kind of guy, I dont have sex without protection, and since I don't have any on me, I am content to just lie here and continue to do the awesome things we have been doing because it has been sensational...unless...you have one???"
05h47 - Sad and forlawn #1 lies on side facing away from Richie.
05h48 - whilst administering the famous dean kerr thumb to cheer upsad #1, Richie notices her grab her phone from bedside table. disgruntled at her distracting actions, Richie asks if she is looking to take photos..?
05h48 30s - peeved at her lack of reply and her aloof demeanour Richie rolls onto his back leaving her...
05h49 - Angel #1 straddles Richie again and says in roman dialect, "don't stress sweetie" and kisses him on the nose.
05h59 10s - muffled knock at door! Angel #1 jumps off Richie's spartan abs and bounces to the door. It opens an inch. Angel 1 return to straddle spartan abs holding a durex in her hand...

SHE SMSED HER DIGSMATE!!!! Rockstar....!!!!!

I got home at 11am and I was a grizzly...."


This goes down at one of my favourite stories, and you have to love how he rights in 3rd person! Richie (ha) when you are done fighting crime in the south pacific and flying helicopters in Uganda you come back here and fight like a man. I'll probably still be at varsity so might even buy you a cheecken. Love you work chief.

All the hype…

Between the moments we are born to the moment those that survive us burn us on our burial pyre chanting ah-roo at our flames we live for one thing and one thing only. Competition! Whether you are enjoying life’s hedonistic pleasures or forced to do the hard yard in the boardroom or at a library desk, everything is about competition.

Being competitive makes your approach to life one based on energy and optimism. You persevere to get better at everything so when the time comes to perform you blow the competition away and walk away with pride!


You don’t necessarily always walk away with the best results, but I am willing to bet that being able to sit in your big holy changeroom of choice one far off day knowing that you gave it your all and competed at your best is far more rockstarish than looking at the scorecard.

With this in mind it would follow then that the worst situation you can find yourself in one day is that you have come off the field knowing that you had all the potential but did naught about it. That’s failure. The guys that know they have all the talent and don’t bother trying and still manage a decent score are far worse off in the pub after the game than the little dude with no talent but tried his heart out to get the same results.


The guys who make their boots too big and don’t fill them are the ultimate losers out there! Those are the guys who don’t do rockstarish things like approach a derby game and clean it up, taking all the spoils of war. If we live for competition, then derby games are oral sex.

This weekend we are in for some super fellatio. Sharks v Stormers in a pride clash and Hilton-Michaelhouse somewhere out there. But the real show this weekend is the curtain raiser at Newlands at 14h30 tomorrow. Inter-fuckin-varsity.

UCT v Maties at Newlands hasn’t happened since Nick Mallet was studied BA and it looks to be a cracker. The traditional Intervarsity had morphed into exclusively a home game for Maties since it was always played in stellenbosch at Coetzenberg but through some administrative string pulling UCT has forced a home ground advantage to play the game at Newlands. The implications of which will be massive since the side leading the Super League A at the halfway mark in July will be the side going to Club Champs.

Ahroo Ahroo Ahroo C T!!!!

Heeltemal Tweetaalige

I am no chef but I can scout a recipe for disaster if need be. How about this? Twenty six rugby players stroke students plus a management team of 4 god-like officials spending 6 Nights and 7 days in what can only be called the 'New York' of the North West Province...

I am no stranger to the FNB Top 8 Superbowl but as an English speaking dude in Potchefstroom I felt stranger than a World Cup Trophy in an SA cabinet. Thankfully I was armed with 29 other men of anglo descent and we put our cynicism of Afrikaans culture aside and got heavily involved…

The week was one long ripper and an experience we will sweep under the tour carpet forever. The rugby side of things wasn’t our best. Besides an epic first game which we stupidly coughed up we never played anything even resembling good rugby and comfortably took up the last position of the 8 storey podium. Off the field? The guys were rockstars…

Thankfully we could take the same side for the next 3 years and only lose 1 or 2 players and although youthful exubruance counts for zero on the scoreboard it counts volumes on the dancefloor.

Watching these young guns in action I realized that spading a meisie is a far cry from letting a girl be visually intimate you in a civilized part of the country. These guys realized very quickly that they needed to adapt to get their point across to die meisies.

Unshaven and sporting eloquent Afrikaans saying the girls were no match and many a boy is now praying that his team mates stick to the ‘what goes on tour’ adage.

2^nd place: “Ek is nie ‘n wolf nie, maar heeeeeeellllllooooooo!”
1^st place: How do I say in afrikaans, dat ek is life vir jou?

The Prodigal Son ...

In celebration of my return and pending unemployment we've thrown a new look around the site. Fear not, however, though we may now be considerably brighter you can expect the same low brow musing (and amusings) about breasts, beer, being ridiculously good-looking and all round general rockstarishness.

Enjoy ...

Monday...



Refreshing point of view...

RSJL: Article 15 The Wow Factor…

The thing that is most common amongst men yet holds the title of the most subjectively decided issue amongst them is none other than the appeal of the female form.

The love of women is inherent in ALL men. If you don’t love women, then you don’t qualify as a man. If you reason that is a logical fallacy by assuming the antecedent, you are a fag, and I mean that quite literally.

The other thing that we love, inter alia, is sport. Now, although you may attempt to argue to the contrary, sport is objectively assessed. You may now ask me if it is so that sport is objectively assessed then how do I explain such wide discrepancies of opinions in regard to every player, team, sport, outcome etc…

Very simply I reply that this is not because sport is subject but rather that we are a funny bunch that loves to argue and that a preference toward a team or player clouds are judgment making us biased fans…or loyal supporters depending on which side of the couch you sit. Enough of this now though, as our predetermined bias in sport means that not everyone supporters the All Blacks and if that was the case it would be boring walking around brimming from ear to ear after every tri-nations Saturday.

Back to women. Cast your blogging memory back to an early supposition that advocated the idea that what a girl finds attractive in the opposite sex is his ‘vibe’. You remember that? Well, after much deliberation it has dawned on me what the female equivalent is…Bingo.

Reverting to the premise that the appreciation of women is a subjectively assessed issue..! What I refer to with this is that men see women differently from other men based on their personal preference. Guys harbour a subjective choice preference that allows them to find some girls gorgeous whereas other guys would find the same lass as ‘not so’ gorgeous. Sure, some guys may share these preferences with other guys but it will be rare when you find guys that have all their preferences the same as another.

Before we experiment with practical examples I must make known that subjectivity may not translate into practical circumstances as the c-ankle girl on campus that you vehemently swore against is ripping up the dance square at tiger and after a few Wardable Bombs (shot of jager in an olmeca tumbler charged with a Red Bull) your judgment is impaired to the point where the visually offending dance queen is looking at you like you wished Angelina Jolie would and she bears starling resemblence to said Angelina...

Let’s now experiment with practical examples. Take Guy A and Guy B:

Guy A’s preferences: Big boobs, tight bum, long legs, white teeth.

Guy B’s preferences: Shapely boobs, tight bum, sexy hips, blue eyes.

Let me point out at this stage that although guys ALL like breasts, some guys will have a specific preference. Also in regard to idiosyncratic things like the fourth preferences the girl doesn’t need to have blue eyes for B to find her attractive BUT in the case of A if the girl has the opposite, like yellow teeth, he won’t find her hot regardless of her ticking all the other boxes…

The boobs example is great because a girl with no chest potential might be found repulsive to A despite her racking (pun intended) up points in other categories and that same how girl with rock B’s world because her small boobs may be shapely.

So here we are:

Pretty much every guy over the ages of 3 that has at least 1 of the 5 senses will find Giselle absolutely beautiful, whereas not all, albeit maybe a large majority, will find Paris Hilton as their “go to girl” come lights out playtime.

Of course this argument must include intangible characteristics of a girl that may sway a guy’s choice, hips, mind or all of the other to a particular girl. Elements such as reputation, personality and status may all play a role. I won’t get into it as it will be lank subjective and harder to grapple with but I find this nifty\quote from Denny Crane may elucidate my point:

“She is an angel in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen…”

As decreed earlier I have stumbled upon what is akin to the ‘vibe’ in men, in women. Now as explained, all men love boobs, but it is then a subjective criteria as men have preference to which type of pectoral asset the girl sports. This however overarches these subjective possibilities and lands the poor guy helpless in that he has no choice but to be starkly attracted to the girl if she has it…

Very simply it is the “Wow” factor. You see the merits of your personal preferences to the female form are eradicated as worthless if the angel as this. Defining it is tricky but its presence is undeniable.

I think it is the reason a girl that may on first assessment seem average has the cancer effect of growing on you and the reason that a super girl actually turns out to be an utter showstopper.

The physical manifestation of a girl’s ‘Wowness’ is her sex appeal or how she manages to look heart-pausingly gorgeous despite the outfit. Sex appeal in its true form transcends fuck appeal. Fuck appeal is that carnal desire you need to extinguish but will only do and then never tell a sole, whereas sex appeal is the same accept you’re fine with your mentors and peers knowing about it.

In assessing the second concept of ‘looking amazing in everything’ we must be wary of falling into the trap of confusion it with those shape shifting night crawling MAC adverts that base the hell out of themselves to look attractive whilst running the promenade in Camps Bay or running you ragged across the bar at Bang Bang. What I mean by her ‘wowness’ is the painful pang that sears through your chest when she steps out of her front door all dressed up for you to take her for tsatiki and cocktails at caprice and that same pang when she wakes you up the next morning fresh from a shower bearing gifts of croissants and coffee.

If girl can bounce into my lounge in jeans and hoodie looking like a fresh winter morning she is all wow factor. It’s these girls that all guys cannot dispute carries the Belter title, angle title, showstopper title, and wow title. She is a keeper…

Keep your vibe up men; the power is strong with these ones…

Rockstar of the moment…

Its that time of our lives again! The time when we can take some time out and view our social position with a harness of perspective that we previously couldn’t mentally saddle. Yes, rockstars and showstoppers, one of us has stuck his neck out and shone himself out above the bright stars that hang above the earth.

The interesting tale to this success story comes from the fact that he didn’t just stick his hand up. He achieved far greater, he made a comeback! Our man Mick (for rhetorical sake) was riding the crest of an amazing wave, he was achieving goals that left his peers awestruck and yearning to emulate him. Mick was setting records and was threatened with the pinnacle of success that we would even adopt him into our full colours rank. However, Mick put his one foot (he can’t really put them both down) in the wrong place, and he fell from grace.

A senior RS member once made the same mistake with the very same girl, but we forgave Docstar with time. Mick rewrote history and leapt up from the depth of embarrassment 3 nights later.

In many cases actions can speak louder than words but in this case Mick wasn't protecting the rocky shores of Sparta with physical heroics he was display the most important founding virtue a man can possess, and he was doing it with speech. Mick was being honest..!

Mick's storys was punctuated with impressive actions and we'll pick up the tale from inside Mick's bedroom at 3am on a thursday morning when Mick was poised in attack position with a freshly naked lady standing in front of him.

[The events leading up to this point are fairly sketchy but it suffices to say it involved an oblivion bottle of wine, Gav as a great wingman and a strange scenario with a Barrister's waitress and a masters thesis on economics.]

Here is where Mick rocked our world -

Freshly naked loony masters student: Oh Mick, before we go any further [ample bossom swaying in the breeze] please do tell me! What are you going to think of me tomorrow?

Mick poised in attach position: [pensive pause of thought] Look, I'll be honest, I am not a doos, but there is an overwhelming chance that I'll never phone you after this..!

Freshly naked loony distraught masters student: - gathered up masters student uniform and made a quick exit through the front door.

Honesty builds nations Mick. We salute you...

Turning over the coin...

If you haven't read the post below, have a go now! I dare you.

Lovely, now that you've scrolled back up and are in disbelief at how backward some people still are consider this side of the coin.

Strolled up for a chicken burger and found this queueing in front of me. Pretty interesting.













Just goes to show that we obviously aren't all that different afterall...

For anyone's sake...

Lately I have been having 'one of those days' intermittently reoccuring during my normal week. At best I probably have 'one of them' every month but of late these have been more common than a patchwork leather jacket at an Egoli cast autobiography signing session.

I love the term 'one of those days'! It rolls off the tongue with such ease but more importantly it brings abrupt closure to the lips of the nosey ass person that just asked you how things are going? You don't like them, they don't like you, besides their most recent ex-girlfriend you've shared nothing in common yet here the fool is asking how you are? Bingo. "One of those days"!

It is basically the most underutilised yet most devastatingly effective social tool you can employ to get rid of someone. It's the ultimate coup de grace:

Anon: "Hi Jake, how you doing?"
Jake: "Fuck off Luke, You're fat and shorter than your sleeves. I'm not picking you! Bingo!"

You could have just said, "I'm having one of those days..!"

The reason for the cure-idiot-in-your-presence affect is that no one wants to know another persons problems so they'll piss off quicker than Graeme Smith gets back into the changeroom just so they don't have to hear what is crap in your life...

However, with this in mind. I didn't get this here little post off with my acclaimation so you would stop reading. Oh not at all. Instead I want you to read this, cause it is for your benefit. Bingo.


It all started last tuesday night when I found myself at a "Farewell party" at Tiger. A good mates girlfriend left for Europe that morning so we were celebrating her farewell. Things were going just fine and dandy when this retard dressed in his school uniform knocked my Heineken off a ledge and onto some fat girl on the dance floor.

Now Heineken's are replaceable as are, unfortunately so, fat girls but what really got my eyes brows elevated was the fact that this aforementioned retard was sporting his Diep River High school kit. I was then informed that you forego 60% of the R30 door charge if you dress up to the Back2School theme.

What the fuck is that? A CNA advert. Are you kidding. Fuckwit, that provision is there on the entrance advertisement to encourage little blonde girls to dress up in knee length stockings, short skirts, red bras and high-heeled barter toughies (clear heels if a fishhoek girl) to fulfill our peadophilic sexual tendancies, not so some spanner head like yourself can wear khaki shorts and a tie.

Good God. I'd pay you 20 bucks to go back to your car and change. Fuck I would pay you forty bucks to stop licking my spillaged heineken off that plump tart's boobs. Aaaaahhhhh...

Honestly however my 'one of those days' feeling preceded that night when I strangely fell upon something and was led to the corresponding internet site. Thankfully I fell on it figuritively not physically. Go check out http://www.femmeplus.co.za/! It might shed some weird light onto how fucked up some people are. It's basically a urinary funnel that allows women to urinate standing up. I can't talk about this anymore. Please go check it...


Moving along. My 'one of those days' sentiment was compounded over the weekend and culminated in me having a conversation with this guy out in Paarl.

The u20 team of rugby rockstars I coach had a fixture out in Paarl. Cape Town league, opposition in Paarl, you can sympathesis with my averment. Fuck, it would have been easier to fly to Kimberly and drive there than having gone on the N1.

Anyway we get out into the Boland, Free State, Angola, where ever the fuck it is and we aren't scheduled to play at the Rugby Stadium but rather at the municipal soccer fields. Flat patch of grass, four lines, four posts...I am fine with that. We came for rugby not a fashion show.

Trevor (prnounced Tray-ver) the rotund Head Coach of the famous Paarl under20 division comes to greet me whilst I am out on the pitch doing that Matthew Hayden psyche up thing. We were scheduled to kick off at 14h45 but the curtain raiser was a few fixtures between surrounding Platteland school sides that obviously don't have the facilities at their respective schools.

Now I don't use the term Platteland school loosely. It's used in a very tight and very specific manner. Basically we have four school teams of Boland vinyard-hand's male offspring enjoying some footie and close on a hundred papsak swirling screaming supporters. Yes, they are all coloured people, but all rugby enthusiasts.

This prick Trevor who looks like a Weber braai advert (not the guy in the advert, literally the advert) comes and apologises to me for having to play at a venue with these people...

These people? Are you Ashton Kutcher? I freaked. I went berserk. I couldn't believe him. I have these people and other "people" in my team. Don't you dare for a fuckin nano second group me into your laager of closet racism you fat anachronistic dutchmen! I put him firmly in his place and told him we would see him on the 'veld'. My little band of spartan's then drubbed his blue bull-esque pack and big protein fuelled centres 5 tries to 0. And four of my sides tries came from players of colour.

I am incredulous that people with that mentality roam the hinterland. They should be shipped off to the Netherlands or something. Bingo!

Monday missus...

The finish line...

I love being humbled. Life at the top gets pretty lonely and it's increasingly difficult to maintain your competitive edge the higher you get up the leader board. Standing on the podium of the rockstar leader board is no different so I set myself a challenge...

I have never liked running long distances. My ancestors were a burly shortburst bunch and didn't do much of the long distance nomadic things like those of you whose relatives lived in the desert. We ate freshly caught antelope and chickens not endurance chased camels and stamina overhauled roadrunners. Beep beep...


As a result my race are short, stocky and masaga quick, not wirey, rangey or over 10km. Goal: 21.1km of pain, hardship, fatigue and medals.

I set myself the goal of finishing 21.1km. I then did some training and bumped my goal up to doing it under 2hours, not just the 3 hour cut off. Then I did a lot more training and found I enjoyed a 5min/km pace. I then ran a 15km trial run of a race in constantia under 74minutes. I then got cock sure enough to drop my 2hour cut off goal down to 1h45min based on my performance, training and 5min/km happy pace...

Now here is the thing. I entered cause I wanted to challenge myself. I trained cause I knew I had to. I trained and got a head of myself. I wanted to be brought to my physical knees quite literally. I have hated endurance sports as a kid with incredible passion. The Balgowan school nurse exempted me from Interhouse Crosscountry more than she medicated herself with Glenmorangie. But after evading what I hated so often for so long I decided to bite the bullet and not let my blues eyes get me out of this one, I threw myself in head long...

I hate running. I hate every step. Why I did something I hate? Well, because I knew I hated it. And I wanted to be humbled by doing something I hated. Try it. Tyler asked, How much can you know about yourself, you've never been in a fight? I fought the road.


Now as mentioned, my fight with said road was going very well, so I got above myself and set myself cocky goals. The road kicked in my shins, blistered my feet, crippled my ligaments, cramped my muscles full of lactic acid and wiped up the mess around every water stations with the top of my head..! The thing is, I was the road. And I finished in the end.


I loved it. I enjoyed finishing something I hated so much I loved it...

You want to measure yourself mentally, break yourself down physically. Just remember that although everyone behind you is chasing you, no one in front of you is racing you...

Mon(tue)day girl...

Happy Easter...


So you're over the chocolate craze of your youth and you now know that the only exciting bunnies that actually exist live with Hugh Hefner but you can still enjoy Easter. Without trying to defile a religious holiday here is a little tip which may lead you to enjoy the day more...

A lot more you would expect...

Right now I am kinda disappointed. Almost like a RSJ reader at present since the lazy people in charge of posting have being living up to their superlative and haven't posted anything substantial of late. I won't apologise for the Rock and The Doc and will just say I've had mitigating circumstances.

Moving away now and back to the more important point of my disappointment. I have profound adoration over my happiness and get somewhat offbeat when it is diminished. Our good friends stroke cult heros at Collegehumor.com annually run what could be the biggest 'hot college girl' search world wide and they "usually: come up with some absolute crackers...

They scour America like Agent Mahone looking for a Foxriver escapee and "usually" turn out a bevy of beauties that would humble a Nic Ward-Able adveture to the roof top of stadium on main.

This year has not been" usual". They split the states into north, south, east and west and hold knock out competitions through online voting until we have a girl flying the flag of each region. Now the first girl is okay. I think the use of 'okay' says it all. The second girl looks like a poor man's Jennifer Love Hewitt. The 3rd slut I mean girl looks like all her brothers and sisters across the south of America have wifi and voted for her while slopping out the pig stys. The last girl is actually a belter but I am not sure if that's cause of the company she is keeping or cause she actually is one.

The fact remains. If these are the 4 hottest college girls in America right now, I am doing my masters degree at home...

Monday. Lovely!

Thank God for Wonderbra...

Today is my favourite almost public holiday, National Cleavage Day. Here's wishing all of you a very happy one with uplifted...spirits. My first memories of this glorious day were at the equally glorious Fez a few years back when we ran around convincing girls and their assets to pose for photos. Its amazing what a few brutal fruits and the random naming of a day can do.

Go forth and prosper friends. I will be attending my cousins pre-wedding party where the only bosoms on show will belong to my family members and thats just wrong.

Summer Monday...



I know we've had her before, but we'll definitely have her again and again. We love this girl for many many reasons.

Post 1: A wolf among the chickens...

I had to laugh hard today so decided to share it with you. Went quietly ambling down the stairs at varsity and witness a young gun throwing a massive tantrum at the 'unavailability' of the chicken burger guy.

The soliloquy went something like this:

"What the fuck! Are you fucking kidding me? I am more starved for food than John is for action and he ain't fucking here! There is just this fuckin bare-foot earth couple wearing matching tie-dyed sarongs making flower kids on the bench. Where the fuck is my CHICKEN...?"


Classic I thought. Not to sure who John is but I suppose where there is smoke there is fire. Sorry John. Oh and by the way pal. Ash has moved the chicken burger franchise to where Steers was...

Post 2: Rockstar of the moment.

We haven't had such a quick turnover of incumbent rockstar moment holders since Dboy replaced himself after nailing number 2 in successive weeks. This week it goes to the face behind the corporate personality that is the Chicken Burger.

After years of unofficial vending out on the grassy islands pocketed around varsity, Ash has taken his franchise north into a permanent fixture that is the Food Court. He snatched the title deed out from under Steers nose like Warren Buffet in a GEICO move. Impressive Ash.

Although you are more accustomed with the prize than we are I am sure you will savour it as much as we do....

LBW: Leprechauns, Bowling and Woolmer...



Usually we try post something special about each and every major sporting event. However none of us here at RSJ really have the authority to comment extensively on the ICC World Cup. I have virtually no talent at the game, Rockstar went to a previously disadvantaged prep school so played soccer and Bball, and although Docstar had immense talent with the willow and represented some recognised sides he is busy in an innings, he came in (at) number 1...

Well this weekends cricket prompted me to cast aside my wisden inadequacies and make comment on the other side of the ICC.


Before you think I am going to goo and gush over Hershell Gibbs' big over don't get a head of ourselves. Ricky Ponting summed it up when he said: 'the stadium is so tight I mis-hit a few onto the roof'. Hershell's biggest over is in the 300s apparently so lets not overrate six 6s. Cool about Jack Daniels giving a million to a charity of his choice. We suspect it will either be Alcoholics Anonymous or the Rondebosch Home for Nymphomaniacs.

What really brought my attention to the tournament this weekend was the two "upsets" on saturday night. Bangladesh, a recognised ICC albeit part time side, beat the star studded India outfit and Ireland thrashed Pakistan. Now I love an upset. A minnow side playing out of their boots to beat an established team is great viewing, unless they do it through rolling mauls. (I am bitter still bitter about the sharks) The fact that an upset happens at a World Cup is monumental. (...Aregentina v Ireland RWC 2007 pool stages, watch this space)

It is kinda like the USA getting bunned at basketball and ice hockey every Olympics. However, I want to pose a question...

If you were a member of a top quality side going into a silverware tournament where the other top sides are in such form that you have virtually zero chance of getting near the trophy (think New Zealand, Aussie and obviously the Proteas) would you consider making more rupees in 50 overs than in your entire career as a professional sportsman???

---Luck of the Irish: Get those from your mom or did someone else make them for you?

I say damn right you would. India and Pakistan threw those games further than guys who quote about buying bottles of canes throw their names when they own up to doing so on a website. Don't give me that Irish pride on St Patrick's day crap either. It just makes my argument more plausible as it was the perfect day for an 'upset' hence clouding your judgment when you watch the hilites package.

Go watch supersport 24. The sweeping shots that led to boundaries for Bangladesh and the Irish weren't good shots, they were bad balls. And you can't really say the gentlemen of the game that play in those sides, aka Sachin, Dravid, Inzie, would NEVER consider throwing a game as wasn't Hansie the game's bigest gentlemen before they recorded his telephone conversations?


I am not singling out individuals here but in a country like India where more money goes through cricket betting than through the JSE per annum you have to wonder. Mahendra Dhoni is a world class keeper and highly rated one-day batsman, made nought and dropped a sitter in the first over. Come on!!!!

To add more spice to my theory. If you risked your life, your career and your reputation to make enough money to pack the bat away forever and someone, like your coach, threatened to expose you, would you cause their death mysteriously??? Why not? You do have the lovely alibi that your nation is so fanatical that they would kill a a scapegoat anyway so you're not the primary suspect.

Somethings not right in the windies, mon....

Mini Monday...

I think this is legal. Not quite sure. More to come today about what is legal and what ain't...

We're Better Than You ...

And yes we know it. In case those of you who are new here haven't read it before - take a look at the rockstar credo - and take special note of the part which says - when you wanted one they already had it ... Our very own Docstar has taken that to heart. Well - maybe not to heart - but certainly to his bedroom.

It's time to rock out ...