Too soon Too Late....

Ha I told you I would be proven wrong. Cape Town power failures resumed this morning. Nice hey. How did you make your coffee..? When it comes to the provision of services from a local government that runs out of water you can never talk too soon...



And too late?
Well yesterday was the 23rd birthday of a rockstar icon. Jono is skiing down slopes in some far off European country but I know he was thinking of us wishing him well when he spent the night with his bevy of beautiful women...

Rock out with your cock out, Richie....

Oh and its monday...!

Everyones Upset...!!!

So apparently Cape Town has now got over its power problems and we are meant to be blessed with a constant stream of available electricity. My guess is this is a load of crap and we will be running our espresso machines off power harnassed from mice on treadmills and speed before long...

Mind you so much remarkable stuff has happened this weekend that I am actually not surprised that the Western Cape has achieved this success. I mean after all, SA beat Australia in a sport TWICE in one weekend. Are you kidding me? That is unheard of. Not since the Rinderpest has something of this magnitude happened in the SA sporting arena.

To add to the apple cart of upsets Scotland beat England 18-12 in the 6Nations. That definitely hasn't happened since the Battle of Hastings.

However even more impressive that the double against those irritating canary yellow fockers and the Scottish triumph is that the other contributor to Rockstar actually made a post... Well truthfully he did start to make one but ended up not finshing it and saved it as a draft instead of publishing it... I query the finshing ability of the man...

Since I am running through a list of current events I want to bring your attention to something else. This little insert just goes to show that Rockstars don't gloat about their achievements but let others do it for them:

This past week, VARSITY, the average newspaper-looking publication that pawns itself off as a student written humorous and insightful publication ran a surprisingly true article. (not surprisiny cause it was true but surprising that they actually published something that was true...) The article rated the most influential and powerful people on UCT'S campus and graded a top 10. At number 1 was our very own 'rockstar of the moment' sponsor Ash the Chicken Burger Man...

He beat the Chancellor, vice-chancellor, numerous faculty deans and the head of the Law SRC to the line... I apolgise for trying to be sarcastic and adding the last one. I don't want to detract from Ash's impressive feat. Well done Ash, the rockstar of the moment award couldn't give value to your achievement....

---------------------------Hugo Boss model with the Campus famous Chicken Burger

Beautiful picture of Cape Town at night....!

















[you're like cape town if you dont get it...not too bright!]

Apologise with a Party...

The administration of your favourite blog has been somewhat tardy of late and we are not going to make excuses for it. However we are going to be more dedicated to fulfilling your blogging needs in the future and as a small gift to express how bad we feel we are giving you the invite of a lifetime...

----------------------109 Campground Rd. 19h00 - onward....

Print this bad boy and you will skip the queue and have VIP entrance to what can only be labelled the biggest house party to be thrown this year.

Yes the proud rockstars at the Wonderland are opening their doors to the Capes finest party-goers, rockstars, showstoppers and any hot first year girl with questionable moral standards. Expect guest appearances from Hugo Boss model, Kenrick Brown and live DJ sets by the real DJ Roy. Your culinary needs will be seen to by master chef Mac1 and the free booze will be flowing from the smooth hands of Greg The Bastard.

It promises to be an awesome night of free booze, expensive porn and killer baits. Although definitely bring your own bottle of cane...

Fishing season is open....

BUT wait there is more. Yes you guessed it. The boys of Wonderland have gone beyond the call of duty and selflessly invited their newest neighbours. And who might they be you ask? Well, its the girls from across the road who all work at the new exclusive 'gentlemens' club in cape town. Unbelievable!!!!

Its Monday...

Who better to celebrate hot women on a monday with than a SeaGal....

Since the Seahawks won the NFC last night and the honour to meet the Steelers in the Super Bowl I figure one of their cheerleaders would do nicely... She does...

--------------------------------------------Nicely.

Every story has a moral...

Joey was happy. He had been dating his girlfriend for over a year, and so, they decided to get married. His parents helped them in every way, his friends encouraged him, and his girlfriend? She was a dream!

There was only one thing bothering Joey, very much indeed, and that one thing was her younger sister. His prospective sister-in-law was twenty years of age, dressed provocatively and was quite a flirt. She was also very good looking...


One day little sister called and asked him to come over to check the wedding invitations. He was surprised to find her home alone. She told him of her attraction to him and propositioned him. He was flabbergasted. She rationalized that it would be okay before the marriage while everyone was still single and that they could not do it after he married her sister. He was so stunned he didn't know what to say. She went up the stairs to her bedroom and said if he didn't follow her, that she would understand. Holy crap. He stood there in shock as he watched her go up the stairs. Then he immediately turned and went straight to the front door.

Joey opened the door, stepped out of the house and walked straight towards his car. His future father-in-law was standing outside. With tears in his eyes he hugged him and said, "We are very happy that you have passed our little test. We couldn't ask for a better man for our daughter. Welcome to the family."

The moral of this story is: Always keep your condoms in your car!

Ladies of DogTown ...

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ... Wait, actually, cut the bullshit. I'm upset, very upset. Having chosen to visit my rather considerable rosckstarish charms upon the so-called Mother City this festive season, I must admit I expected a lot. Aim for the stars, and you may land on the moon, so the saying goes. The rest of the saying, which most will not remember, is that you should you overshoot you may land in DogTown - and I do not mean the skater trash movie.

Cape Town 'model season' has earned somewhat of a reputation, and needless to say has a lot to answer for. As I sit, lotus-position, and type I am surrounded by a bevy of, well, not beauties. Expecting an influx of Scandivanian multiple-birth sisters, I took up a Tom Cruise á la Cocktail-style job in order to be suitably positioned to be taken advantage of. Now I've seen the movie, and I'm a damn sight better than looking than Tom Cruise, and, goddamnit, it's 'model season' but by Great Oden's Raven, if Tom Cruise doesn't see a far-sight more better looking women than I have (even given the dodgy 80's hair) then I'm not Rockstar. In which case, I wouldn't be writing this article. Preposterous. Quat erat demonstratum.

Not, of course, to say that their haven't been any, but certainly I feel my powers could have been put to better use. (Note to self, try harder to conceal superhuman powers.) We would not, however, be the superior beings we claimed to be if we provided you with at least one solution. In this case, we'll throw in an extra one free - just like when you buy the left shoe.

In those cases where you may see some potential, but aren't sure as it obscured behind puppy fat, suggest this approach, as recommended by the dieticians over at WWTD:
Step 1: Take 1 chicken breast
Step 2: Fillet chicken breast
Step 3: Throw away chicken breast

In cases where the problem is largely above the neck (balaclava model, perhaps?) we suggest these nifty extreme makeovers, available for a mere $2.95 on the world wide web.

In extreme cases, use two


Or you could just be a rockstar, get out there and find yourself a real model. Hey, if Seal can do it ...

Audacious...

Got this emailed to me. I figure if the broad is dumb enough to believe this it is a suitable way to break it off.

Dearest Andrea,*

It is with great sorrow and remorse that I am forced to write this letter and especially under these circumstances. If only you had let me explain myself face to face when I stopped you in the gym parking lot yesterday instead of trying to run me into that guy’s Volvo. I would even had settled to explain myself over the phone as a second option had you not repeated hung up, screened my calls and then blacklisted my number. (I always knew you would harbor great perks since dating that vodacom technician in high school but I never thought they would work against me)

I am aware that this is not the best medium for which I can apologize through but alas you leave me know choice. The task I have to apologize is not an easy one. I can say nothing that will undo the damage I have done but I want to reiterate that I didn’t mean to hurt you.

It is difficult for a guy to explain to his serious girlfriend of two years that he had sex with another woman and it has led to her pregnancy. I acknowledge that for my horrid action there is no excuse but I stand (write) before you as a broken, humble and apologetic man.

I have ruined everything we ever had. The walks on camps bay, the hours making love in your school dormitory, the long conversation about life and stuff. All for what? A simple slip up whilst I was away? I never thought my aid relief in Ethiopia was ever going to lead to a wild, drunken, passionate love tryst one night. I fucked up. I don’t deserve you. I am truly sorry.

I understand that your heartache was compounded by the method you found out. I really didn’t think she was going to tell you before I could get a chance. I was always going to tell you. Unfortunately your pain will now be transformed into public suffering as I just found out that Heat magazine has got wind of the story and is running a front page article.

I am very sorry it had to happen like this.

Forever regretful and sorry,

*names have been changed to protect the innocent...

@#$%!

The most expressive, versatile and probably most common word in the world unfortunately shouldn't be used in the presence of approximately half the world. This is a pity as this generic term does have infinite usages. However this unwritten rule of verbal ettiquette is hard to abide to for two reasons.


Firstly, most women are not shy to throw around profanity and in fact some can swear for about an hour without even repeating themselves. If you didn't know any better you would think you were on the deck of the Black Pearl as opposed to an all female chardonnay fuelled book club meeting. The second reason is that these same females to whom you are meant to control your tongue in front of are the same that so strongly advocate gender equality. You want to be equal honey, then you fucking well don't demand me to change the way I talk in front of you...

My sentiments, and lewd tongue, will not change the fact that profanity will remain taboo in linguistic culture, although sometimes it is just unavoidable. I was emailed this documenting the expert usage of it through history...

They are as follows:

11. "What the @#$% do you mean we are sinking?" -- Capt. E.J. Smith of RMS Titanic, 1912
10. "What the @#$% was that?" -- Mayor Of Hiroshima, 1945
9. "Where did all those @#$%ing Indians come from?" -- Custer, 1877
8. "Any @#$%ing idiot could understand that." -- Einstein, 1938
7. "It does so @#$%ing look like her!" -- Picasso, 1926
6. "How the @#$% did you work that out?" -- Pythagoras, 126 BC
5. "You want! WHAT on the @#$%ing ceiling?" -- Michelangelo, 1566
4. "Where the @#$% are we?" -- Amelia Earhart, 1937
3. "Scattered @#$%ing showers, my ass!" -- Noah, 4314 BC
2. "Aw c'mon. Who the @#$% is going to find out?" -- Bill Clinton, 1999
1. "Geez, I didn't think they'd get this @%#*^ing mad." -- SadaamHussein, 2003

Not like most blogs...

Most blogs find they need a valid reason to put up a post. I think we can agree I don't need a reason for this one, or at least that the reason is intrinsically woven into the bikini bottoms of the second doll...


Nice!

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...