I Am Tom

Zumatello vs GodZille and Other Assorted Adventures for Boys

2009-04-14T13:52:00.000-07:00

Hi!

I keep on writing impromptu 'I'm back' posts only to leave blog land for another three weeks so for that I apologise. This time I'm not going to guarantee you daily updates because, in truth, I'm busier now than I've ever been.

So what is it that I actually do now you ask? Well to put it bluntly I write about gadgets - I'm a tech journalist. That's right, I now make a living from writing about things I used to play with in my spare time.

When I'm not in the office I'm at press briefings and product announcements being wined and dined by tired and insincere PR people. I have a new found respect for the employees of PR agencies the world over. They have to hob knob and shmooch up to yobbos like me all day while convincing me that the product they represent is awesome. I could never do it, so kudos to you if you're an account exec.

In the past few weeks I've undergone a baptism of fire regarding what writing for online is really about. It's short, sweet and to the point. The worst part is that each story that's published on our site is scrutinised by the thousands of members that trawl our forums and comment on each piece. This means that I CANNOT make a mistake or I'll get throw to the lions. This has unfortunately happened once or twice already.

I absolutely loving it though, I actually feel as though I've found a job I can stick to for a few years (which at my tender age is a rare thing).

Oh and what about the house hunting? It's finally over! Lee and I found a fantastic 2 bed, 2 bath garden flat in Broadacres. It's HUGE and right across the road from the centre where she works (which happens to include the most lavishly stocked Spar you'll ever come across as well as a Virgin Active which is a plus for me). It's a fantastic place and I'm sure Leonard (our kitten who's steadily doubling in size and constantly walking over my screaoij;vwkjngl;wjhljdvn) will love his new garden come May 1st. Who wants to come over for a braai ? You'll have to help us move in first I'm afraid.

Next week I also happen to graduate. Although I think it's a pretty dated ceremony it's there for a reason and I can't say I'm not looking forward to it. I'm the first of my generation in the family to complete a degree so I guess that makes me a little special? Everyone has a degree today though so I guess not. My lowly BA did little else but teach me a few big words and get me a job or two. I guess it's been a cool spark to what I hope will become a raging (Australian'esque) bonfire.

Other than that I've also decided that I need a new car soon. Mine is old (208 000 km's kinda old) and it's getting a bit long in the tooth. I love my soccermom car but I think the time to give her up is drawing ever nearer. The only obstacle in my way at the moment is money, which is quite a big one because I don't have a lot. Anyone want to give me a GTi?

Oh right, and elections are next week so get on your voting caps and make a nice 'x' next to whatever party you think is most ironic. For me that would have to be either the Woman's Front whatever party has 'Christian' or 'Azanian' in it's ballot name. It's good to see that GodZille has taken to the skies in combat of Zumatello's recent political vindication - I didn't know sea beasts could fly. If only she'd embark on a Forest Gump-like marathon for no reason at all, then we'd have a truly amphibious opposition. Geez, I'm like, hilarious.

Two sayings come to mind at the moment:

"Life is good -Everyone just overeacts"

and

"When isn't the world ending?"

Bye for now.

You've heard this all before

2009-03-31T02:40:00.000-07:00

Believe it or not I'm back (I know you're all really tired of hearing that).

I've been busier than Madonna in Malawi lately with the new job so I apologise. For a second there I thought I was going to quit blogging all together but things seem to be smoothing out a little now and I'm getting my work groove on so I think I'll still have time.

So what's news?

I've been heading off to press briefings left right and centre, writing stories about everything under the sun. Additionaly I've also been looking for a new place to live (whic isn't going too well at the moment, let me tell you). Why is it that everytime I decide to view a good deal it's in a really crap area? Is it perhaps because I'm looking for good deals?

The band is up and running again as well which makes me happy. Last weekend we played what may be the worst show of my life in Vander(fail)park. We were nestled in between some of the worst metal bands I've ever heard and were forced to play through what can only be described as a tin can of a PA system. We're playing at The Black Dahlia in Boksburg this weekend so hopefully that should be better, shows in my home town are always cool because I get to stay with the parentals.

I have a bone to pick. Why, when listeners decide to call in on a radio talk show, do they:

a) Ask the presenter how they are. The presenter is fine, haven't you been listening to the thirty idiots before you that have asked her as well?

b) Answer "I'm fine thanks" when the presenter has finished responding. It almost sounds as if they're trying to validate their self worth by telling the world how fine they are without being asked to do so.

It grates my cheese.

This post was shoddily written because I squeazed it in between articles. Catch you later!

Update: New Jobs, New Home

2009-03-17T08:23:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I suck.

I haven't posted in over a week and the only excuse that I can come up with is that fact that I didn't feel like it. Sometimes the blogging wave ebs and flows and I can surely say that mine has been doing a lot more ebbing than flowing of late.

In the time since my last post I left my old job to venture off into a new one here, and so far so good. In my two short (and I mean short because we work from 9:30 to 3:30) I've sorted out my shiny new work laptop (which I'm typing on as we speak) and spent some time in traffic on my way to a Neotell conference.

Although the conference was boring I can say that from what I've experienced being a tech journalist is awesome. I've already been inundated with more offers to review this cellphone, i pod, x box game, computer and go to this press briefing or this conference than I've been able to process. I'm pretty sure it will all become normal in a few weeks but for now I'm enjoying the attention that the Account Executives seem only to keen to lavish me with. Score.

Besides for my new job a few other interesting things have also been happening lately. Lee resigend from her job because she got another one, because this blog has my name in its title and not hers I'm not going to go on about it but let's just say that we both gave out a heavy sigh of releif when it happened because her boss is an ASSHOLE. We're also looking for a new place to live, I know I've mentioned this before but we've narrowed down the options a little bit so it's looking a lot better. We're actually off to see an awesome townhouse tonight in about half an hour so I'm going to leave it there and promise you that I'll catch up tomorrow.

Exelsior!

More Letters

2009-03-09T06:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Clicks Security Man

What the hell? Why are you so resolutely insisting that I allow you to close my bag up with a yellow sticker every time I walk into your store? Does it have some sort of force field attached to it that prevents me from reaching into either side of the opening or just removing it? If that's the case I think I might be magic because I haven't had a problem with either thus far.

I know you're doing your job and all but if I was a criminal I'd find your security tactics neither threatening or effective.

If I was a cross dresser I wouldn't have paid for lipstick and other assorted make up products for years, you're lucky I can't walk in heels.

Thanks

Tom

Dear Julius Malema

I'm not going to head off on your average diatribe about how you're a complete douchebag or how undereducated you are. We both know that harping on about that for hours would be like trying to convince the America that Barrack Obama is black.

I would like to point out to you however that you implicated your own political party in corruption this weekend at a rally held in Kwazulu Natal. I'm not sure you understand this but when you tell thousands of people that the chief members of COPE were guilty of profiting from the arms deal as ANC executives before they left to start their own party you are actually admitting that the ANC had some dodgy dealings back then.

Now might I commend you for doing such a great job in chasing anyone with half a brain into the arms of the likes of the DA, COPE and IFP. You deserve a medal of sorts, you know, the kind your woodwork teacher always gave to the smart kids.

Best

Tom

Dear Helen Zille

Congratulations! You've successfully moulded the DA into a walking Frankenstein of a political party. By taking what you figured to be the best parts of liberal democrats, pre democracy ANC and British Parliament you've managed to sew together a party that cannot think for itself and exists solely to point fingers at the ANC and say "Nuh Uh!".

No, you can't have my vote.

I still think you're a saucy little minx though.

Hugs

Tom

Friday: Article

2009-03-06T04:41:00.001-08:00

Not much going on at the moment I'm afriad. It's always the way isn't it? I get back to full time blogging when there's nothing to write about.

Sorry guys, hopefully next week will be more entertaining.

For now I'll leave you with a really funny article I read via Simon Dingle's Tweet this afternoon:

SA expats too busy eating rats to vote LONDON.

South African expatriates living in Britain and the US say that they are unlikely to vote in April 22's general election as they are too busy queuing at soup kitchens and catching rats to bulk up their gruel. However some expats have demanded the right to vote, hoping to stuff their shoes with ballot papers and gather up enough pencils to burn for warmth.

The issue of whether or not expatriates should be allowed to vote in the forthcoming election has been a political hot potato in South Africa, with the ANC opposing the move as it fears a strong expatriate turnout on April 22 could see its majority slip from 76 percent to 75.9 percent.

However the Democratic Alliance and the Freedom Front Plus remain adamant that expatriates should be allowed to vote abroad, and are hoping for a major boost from this demographic.

4.4 million of South Africa's 4.5 million whites currently live in four flats in Shepherd's Bush in London, and both opposition parties are hoping to rouse at least a few dozen out of their traditional apathy come April 22.

But for expatriates, trapped in a crushing cycle of debt, joblessness and stale Jaffa Cakes, voting is not as easy as it sounds.

Worsie van Tonder, a 26-year-old electrical engineer currently working as a coffee-bean titillator at Costa, says he is unlikely to vote even if allowed to."If you're out of the shop for more than twelve minutes a month they fire you," he explained. "I just don't know when I'd get the chance. And these beans need titillating."

Elsa-Chante Smit, 23, is a classically trained pet therapist but is currently paying her heating bills by working as an exotic dancer at Little Caesar's Skin Bar in Glasgow. She echoes Van Tonder's sentiments, although she says she's lucky just to have a job.

"A lot of South Africans in the UK, you see them roaming around in the streets like zombies. Slack jaws, moaning as they walk, Springbok jerseys all dirty and ragged, Springbok beanies all unraveling, Springbok scarves dragging in the slush behind them."

The local kids throw them with rocks. Dogs rip off their jean-pants. It's horrible."

Brad Brad-Bradley, who decided to take a gap year in London with his friend and wrestling partner Chad Chadley-Chadford after they graduated from Michaelhouse with distinctions in suppressed masculine rage, said he would not be voting on April 22 as he would be at the South African embassy applying for economic refugee status.

"Bru, we're so stoked about going home and that, but we sold our Bok puffer jackets and Bok jerseys so we'd totally freeze to death before we made it to Heathrow," he explained.

He said getting on a South African Airways flight was easy as one only needed to offer the cabin crew some hard drugs.

"The problem is that me and Chad ate our drugs last night, with the last of the rat.

"It was so cold, and our teeth are starting to get loose in our gums, and he had this brick of skunk, so we fried it in diesel oil and shredded the last of the rat-leg into it.

"It tasted lank kak but what can you do in these times?"

You can read more articles like this at Hayibo. It smacks of onion news but it's central focus is on SA affairs, which makes it that much more hilarious.

Have a great weekend!

Tag: Current Addictions

2009-03-04T06:26:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Being Brazen tagged everyone in her 'Current Addictions' post.

Being that I (think) I fall into the everyone category and that she so politely reminded me this afternoon I decided to follow up and write this blog like a real man.

I am currently addicted to:

Crack Cocaine:

Chasing the magic dragon, there's really nothing better.

Looking for a new place to live:

Our lease ends at the end of April and now that I'm making a little more money Lee and I can afford to move into something bigger than a box. I'm looking for a 2 bed duplex, 2 appliances, garden with a garage and a garden (our cat needs somewhere to run around other than up my leg). Know anything?

That being said I'm also addicted to

Leonard Nemoy Mc Lovin':

My cat. He got his name from quotes from two epic movies, namely Superbad and Step Brothers. He's only 8ish weeks old, he's grey and I think he has energy problems, he never stops running around. Can someone with previous experience in cats please let me know when this will stop?

Twitter:

It just sort of happened, I'm not proud of it. Add me.

Pepperdews/Jalapenos:

These things are more delicious than Kiera Knightly. Tamara swore she was going to give me some of her extra special, home grown, organic, fresh from the garden but in a bottle Pepperdews but she/we forgot before I left. Still not sure if they exist.

Reading all of ExMi's old posts:

She's been blogging longer than Israel and Palestine have had beef, what's more is that every post is awesome. If you don't know her (and you should by now, we swopped blogs and everything) then do yourself a favour and check her out.

Slamming Turok:

Turok is the worst game I've ever played.

Dancing by myself and crying a little:

No explanation needed.

Eating Lee's Cooking:

Has been and will always be the best food under the sun (next to my mommy's).

There you have it! Boring huh?

Some Exciting News

2009-03-02T22:59:00.001-08:00

To those of you who read my post yesterday:

I wrote that piece with fiery fingers, it wasn't nice. I decided to take it down because it was pissing off half of you and upsetting the rest. I'd actually like to leave this whole drinking and driving episode behind me now because I'm over it and I learned a good lesson. I'm probably going to turn the story into a weekly series but before I announce any more about that I'm going to give it some thought.

Anyways, I'm back! You can all expect daily blog updates, just like old times.

I also have some really exciting news. This weekend I was sort of offered two jobs, one writing some freelance stuff and the other?

Drum roll please.....

In two weeks I'm going to be My Broadband's new tech journalist! It's South Africa's sixth largest website and I'm going to get to spend all day writing about and testing TV's, computers, phones, games etc. I'm so happy to be joining their editorial team and I'm even happier to finally have a REAL writing job!

PS: If you happen to want to vote for me in the South African Blogger Awards 2009 (and you should, please) then you can do so here. Thanks!

I Go To Jail: Episode One (Miami Vice)

2009-02-26T05:57:00.001-08:00

Hi guys

Ok I'm back and I'm feeling great. How's the week been?

Let's just jump straight into it shall we?

I was invited to a blogger get together at Cranks in Rivonia on Friday night by ExMi. Naturally I accepted and when Friday night rolled around I found myself a really excited and just a little nervous. I'd never met these people before but I knew all about their lives already, it was an interesting dynamic.

When I arrived ExMi and I both decided that eating was out of the question and that drinking was the way to go. To take the edge off the nerves I ordered myself a beer and settled into getting to know a whole bunch of the Joburg bloggers and twitterers I'd been following for the past few months. It was great and I ended up having a fantastic time.

I left at around 11:30 and on the drive home I got a call from my girlfriend to let me know that the cops were everywhere and that I should be careful. Super, I decided to take the back roads. I knew that the pigs always trapped under a certain bridge very close to my house so I decided to go over the bridge in the hopes that I wouldn't be pulled over. I wasn't that lucky.

As I drove further down William Nicol drive I slowly began to realize that the bastards had moved the road block further back to catch people like me. I began to experience a sinking feeling when the police began to pull me in with their tractor beam torches, ushering my car to the side of the road.

I opened my window to the (very brand new, wet behind the ears) policeman. The conversation went something like this:

Policeman: Eh Boss. Can I see your licence?

Tom: Evening officer, sure.

*This is when I frantically start searching for my wallet. Turns out I forgot that I put it in my glove box when I arrived at Cranks. If anything made me look drunk it was me pulling my car apart trying to find the darn thing.
Tom: There you go officer

Policeman: Thomas, you are young (um thanks?) have you been drinking?

Tom: No sir, I'm just on my way home. See those lights there? (Points to the nearest intersection) I just have to turn there and then I'm back.

Policeman: Thomas I think you have been drinking and now you must blow.

Tom: Sir, with the utmost respect, I just want to get home. If you must test me I'd like a Drager test and to see the certificate of competency for the operator.

Policeman: *calls supervisor

Supervisor: Come now sir, you must blow. Get out of the car.

Tom: Ma'am I'd respectfully like a Drager test please.

Supervisor: No! You must blow! (tries to open my car door, it's locked) Come, we are going to see the supervisor.

Tom: Ok

Supervisor's Supervisor: Boy, you must blow now (how many times did they have to say that?)

Tom: Sir, I just asked for a Drager Test.

Supervisor's Supervisor: *Laughs in my face

Tom: Sir, I'm being really respectful, I'm not trying to cause trouble.

Supervisor's Supervisor: Bring me the handcuffs!

Tom: Erm what?

Supervisor's Supervisor: Resisting arrest!

Tom: Ok ok I'll do the breathalyzer test.

That didn't help. This 6 foot 7 inch odd man pushed me onto the police car and slapped those handcuffs on like I was his bitch. I have a feeling he'd been waiting all night for something like this to happen because he pushed me into that police van like he was the protagonist in an episode of Miami Vice (without the pale blue suits and cocaine). I sat down; hands cuffed behind my back and uttered a single word.

Shit.

I turned around to greet my fellow inmates.

Tom: Hi guys

Dude 1: Why do you have handcuffs on?

Tom: I'm not sure actually, no one explained to me why I'm being arrested and I didn't have a breathalyzer test.

Dude 1: That's ridiculous.

Dude 2: We're all in for drinking; they said that they're going to take us to Loveday Police Station.

Tom: Where is that?

Dude 1: In the CBD, it's not a great place.

Tom: Crap, um could you do me a favour?

Dude 1: Sure, what?

Tom: Could you take my phone out of my pocket, press the green button, dial the first number and hold it to my ear?

I managed to place a very awkward phone call to my sleeping girlfriend as the police started the car up and drove us away at about a zillion miles per hour. Now I'm not sure if you've ever sat in a police van with handcuffs on driving at a zillion miles per hour but I can tell you that it's tough to hold on.

With my phone safely back in my pocket, my hands behind my back and my girlfriend frantically calling everyone I knew we headed off into the darkness to meet an uncertain fate.
And that's where I'll leave you for now. In the next post I'll tell you guys all about the test,
Douglasdale Police Station and Randburg Cells.

Until then....

Update

2009-02-23T23:06:00.000-08:00

Hi all

Wondering why I've been a little scarce lately? Well, to put it bluntly, I was arrested on Friday evening after the Joburg Bloggers get together. I was thrown into a police car, handcuffed and without explanation and taken to a police station for an alcohol test. I waited for five hours before I was tested at which point they found me only marginally over the legal limit, threw me back into a police car and took me to another station. I hadn't eaten for 14 hours by then and it turns out that this affected the amount of alcohol in my blood. After having my papers processed I was transported to cells where I sat, without food or drink for a further 10 hours. Eventually, after what seemed a lifetime I was released on free bail and ordered to appear in court on Monday morning.

On Monday I waited for hours with my attorney until the court decided to postpone my case until May, pending blood results. They never took my blood. This should work in my favour and there is a 90% chance that it will simply be thrown out.

It was the worst experience of my life and I'm still not quite right.

Sorry for the lack of posts and comments lately. Please don't stop following my blog, I'll be back to normal in a few days, at which point I'll write a few posts documenting the experience. For now please just bear with me, I don't have too much humour stocked up at the moment.

Lots of love

Blog Swop!

2009-02-19T06:31:00.000-08:00

Hello there . Startled? I’m sure you are. No, I’m not Tom, but close enough. Blog twin, am I. I go by the name of ‘ExMi’. We decided to swap blogs today, and have ourselves a little TMI Thursday party. What does that mean? It’s a day to overshare. And I plan to overshare, like, a lot.

Much like Tom’s story, mine takes me back to first year at university. My mate, Furburger (don’t ask) and I decided it would be smart to drive down to our other mate’s beach cottage for the afternoon. So we stopped at home first for the essentials

1. as many bottles of wine as we could find, including a bottle of cane and sherry;
2. cigarettes - 2 cartons – yes, for the afternoon.
3. Money – we managed to scrounge about forty bucks between us.
4. Petrol card – on account of how we were students, and didn’t have any money for petrol.
5. Sunblock – because we’re practical like that.
6. Flip-flops – because we were going to the beach.
7. Bikinis – see above reason.

You might have noticed that we didn’t pack any clothes. You might be wondering about that. Yeah. We only thought we’d be staying for the afternoon, but landed up staying for about four days. Well, I did anyway. Furburger went home the next day, and I landed up staying in a wooden house with 9 rugby-playing, beer-drinking jocks.

We arrived at the Chateau de Drunken Jocks, and were greeted at the door by men in Speedos. It was pretty. Pretty revolting. Forced us to down tequila, and opened every bottle of booze we brought with. Each person was assigned a bottle of booze, and it was their duty to finish it. This involved persuading other people to do down-downs out your bottle. There might have been drinking games, and there may or may not have been strip-blackjack involved. Blackjack? Yes. Because at that stage, poker was too complicated. No one had poker-faces, everyone was far too shit-faced.

The boys, who were dealing, of course cheated. Us girls landed up naked. They were really bad cheats too, because they landed up naked too. Although, now that I think about it, that might have been the whole point. You might also be thinking that it would be very easy for them to get naked, since they were wearing speedos. Not so. When it was decided we’d be playing a game with stripping involved, they rushed back to their rooms to put on every single article of clothing they’d brought with them.

And so there we all were, naked. Somewhere in between the chasing each other round the house screaming, and being willy-slapped and boozing, the sun had set. So we decided it would be the perfect time to go to the beach. Because the best time to be on the beach is after dark.

We had one problem though.

Drew, the smartness he is, thought it was hilarious and disgustingly funny to throw all our clothes over the wall into the neighbour’s garden. And it wasn’t like we could go and retrieve them. These people had massive Dobermans, and I wasn’t exactly volunteering to go stand at their gate and ring the door bell in my birthday suit.
So. The mission to the beach had to be undercover.

Even though the sun had set, it was still pretty bright. Full moon and all. The road to the beach was also rather busy, cars driving past every few seconds. So we set out, the 11 of us, all butt-ass naked. Except for our sunglasses, and towels over our shoulders. Seemed like a good idea at the time, I tell you.

The 11 of us took a naked march down the main road in this little seaside town. Every time a car drove past, we dived into the bushes, and pretended to be deer. Why? Because it was a good idea at the time. Sometimes we didn’t make it undercover in time, and it must have been a sight. 11 naked bums, 9 penises, 4 boobs and 2 vaginas. People hooted. It was a spectacle. If there were no bushes to dive into for cover, we’d throw ourselves down flat on the path, and cover our heads with our arms, like we were under attack from above. Shrieking with laughter.

Anyway, we arrived at the beach, battered and bruised from all the bush-diving, and covered with bits of gravel from the path. Somehow, we decided it would be a smart thing to play touch-rugby. One problem. We had no rugby ball.

So basically this game involved Furburger and I being chased around the beach by 9 naked men, and being tackled to the ground repeatedly. I got in a few groin-kicks, so it was a prett fair game.

Somehow we lost a few members of the party, and I landed up wandering down the beach with Bucket and P Diddy (names they’d assigned themselves for the weekend, strangely enough). Now, we’d had enough of this running around on the beach thing, and were starting to get sober. So we decided to duck back to the house, and get stuck back into the booze. So we went ahead of the others.

They followed shortly thereafter. Bucket came up with a fantastic idea that we should hide in the bushes, and as they came past, we’d jump out screaming and scare the bejesus out of them. Somehow, they landed up getting past us, without us noticing. And they apparently lay up in the bushes in wait for us. So there we all were, naked, hiding in bushes, trying to scare each other. Eventually I get fed up, and take a stroll down the middle of the road, pretending nonchalance, but actually shitting myself in the dark, all alone.

I snuck up behind German and Frank the Tank (yeah, I know, they’re lame like that) and decided it would be funny to run past them screaming like someone was chasing me. I did. They didn’t even seem to notice, so deep in drunken conversation were they. Either that, or behavior like that was so common-place that they didn’t even bat an eyelid.

I got back to the house first. I don’t know where everyone else was. I managed to climb over the front gate and climb through the bathroom window after standing on Gary Player’s car (yes, he’s corny like that) and hauling myself up. I rummaged around in the bedrooms, for clothing, and discovered that there was nothing that these boys had brought with them that was clean and non-smelly. I eventually ripped a sheet off the bed, wrapped it around me, and declared myself a Roman.

The rest of the group trickled in slowly, in various states of disrepair. P Diddy had to be carried, on account of how he’d stubbed his toe and was on death’s doorstep. I decided, at 2 in the morning, that now that I was clothed, I could go ring the neighbour’s bell and ask for my clothes back.

I rang, and rang and rang and rang. Shouted and screamed and woke just about the entire road up. But these people never came to the gate. I don’t even think they were there. Eventually I gave up, and decided to call it quits and go find something to drink.

Sherry and cane was about all that was left, and we got stuck in. the next game of choice was Truth, Dare or Command. Sparky (he’s called that because of all the bright ideas) then dared German to start a fire, and burn everyone’s clothes. And of course in the drunken stoned state we were, we thought it was hilarious. I didn’t care, because I was under the impression that I’d be getting my clothes in the morning when the neighbours woke up.

Turns out the neighbours had gone away. I never got my clothes back. In the morning, once we’d sobered up and realized we all had no clothes, but needed to go to the bottle store for more booze, everyone followed my lead, and ripped off bedsheets, raided the cupboards for towels. Frank The Tank found a maid’s outfit, which he wore. So off we went, to the local mall, me dressed in a brown-paisley (elasticated) bedsheet, flip-flops and sunglasses.

I found a Pep Stores, looked in my wallet, and discovered enough money (coins) to buy myself some underwear. I’m not proud, but I bought Pep Panties that day. Pink ones. I had to, we were going to the beach after the mall, and it wasn’t a nudist beach. So, I spent the day in pink panties, on the beach. Of course, I took my brown paisley (elasticated) sheet along for the ride. And the boys all bought themselves some underpants as well, and clung to their sheets and towels too. Once the boys had bought underpants, they then all tied their sheets around their necks, like Superman capes, and ran around the mall screaming and pretending to fly. Eventually we were asked to leave. I don’t blame them.

A lovely day cooking in the sun, getting plastered and playing silly buggers. We got back to the house, and made one last attempt at retrieving our clothes from the neighbours. No luck, and no one wanted to chance it with the huge slavering guarddogs. So I spent another evening lounging around in my brown paisley (elasticated) bedsheet.

The next morning we all had to return to Durban. We had homes to go to, parents who were worried about us, and exams to study for. The drive home, all of us clothed in Pep underpanters and bedsheets was, well, mortifiying. We were all very much sober at this stage.

The whole way home I was worrying about how I was going to explain to my dad why I arrived home three days later, wearing only my flip-flops, sunglasses and a brown paisley (elasticated) bedsheet.

Turns out I didn’t have to explain, my dad wasn’t home. I threw the Pep Pink Panties and Brown Paisley (Elasticated) Bedsheet in the bin, and pretended nothing had happened. When my dad asked me how my weekend was, and what we’d done, I told him we had a Roman party.

He knew better than to ask, because the conversation stopped there. Needless to say, I can’t pass a Pep Stores without remembering my Roman Weekend. Nor can I ever look at bedsheets quite the same way again.

All I see is myself, running down the main road, with my sheet tied around my neck, billowing out behind me, being chased by my guy friends all trying to spank me with their flip-flops, and tackle me to the ground so they could penis-slap me on the forehead and nose.

Yup. And that, my friends, is why it’s never smart for girls to join boys on a boys-only weekend.

To Cat or not to Cat?

2009-02-18T06:12:00.000-08:00

Still no phone call today kids, I'm beginning to get a little despondent here. I've spent all day looking at my phone and checking my mail, waiting for just a little information. Its weird how this has been affecting my mood, someone called on private number and never left a message and I found myself more than a little annoyed.

Seriously. What can I do with a private number if you don't leave me a message you tool? Do you expect me to magically divine where you came from and who you are? I'm not a super computer, so how about next time you call you leave me a message telling me what you wanted.

In other news we may be getting a cat. After the Guine a Pig Debacle I was left feeling somewhat over cautious towards getting another furry friend. It's a big responsibility to take care of a pet and you have to be prepared to shoulder that responsibility for the rest of the animals’ life. After a lot of thinking I started considering the idea of a cat last week, we have quite a few in our complex and they're relatively easy animals to keep thanks to their 'screw you' attitudes. When I found out that they can get used to life in a flat I thought it might not be such a bad idea.

Well today it was like fate (whatever that is) hit me on the head. Sleepyjane twittered that someone she knew was giving away kittens and, knowing that Lee would be thrilled with the idea, I asked her for the number.

My girlfriend was predictably giddy over the idea and a result we're probably going to see the little critters tonight. Any ideas for names?

I ran into this picture on facebook today and I had to think long and hard about posting it because it's ridiculously embarrassing. Thanks to the urgings of ExMi I decided to let you guys have a look see at me aged 18, in the height of my band days. Here it goes....

I know, I'll never live it down.

A State of Flux

2009-02-17T06:53:00.001-08:00

I've been waiting all frikken day for an e mail or a phone call. Not from just anyone mind you, this e-call (that's what I'm going to call it) is important. I can't tell you guys what it's about or who it's from just yet but if you follow me on Twitter then you might have some idea of what I'm talking about. I know you're probably wondering why I'm not divulging any juicy details; this blog is full of those after all so what's another post? Well if this doesn't come together they way I want it to then I'm going to reserve the right to stick my head into the ground in peace.

Hopefully the e-call will come through early tomorrow morning and I'll be able to tell you all the good news. For now I'm going to leave you with a song that describes how I'll be feeling if things go my way:

The Police - Walking on the Moon

Giant steps are what you take
Walking on the moon
I hope my legs don’t break
Walking on the moon
We could walk for ever
Walking on the moon
We could live together
Walking on, walking on the moon

Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Walking back from your house
Walking on the moon
Feet they hardly touch the ground
Walking on the moon
My feet don’t hardly make no sound
Walking on, walking on the moon

Some may say
I’m wishing my days away, no way
And if it’s the price I pay, some say
Tomorrows another day, you’ll stay
I may as well play

Giant steps are what you take
Walking on the moon
I hope my legs don’t break
Walking on the moon
We could walk for ever
Walking on the moon
We could be together
Walking on, walking on the moon

Some may say
I’m wishing my days away no way
And if it’s the price I pay, some say
Tomorrows another day, you’ll stay
I may as well play

PS: I'm still determined to write a post on new age evangelism but I'm having a little trouble tracking down the information I'm looking for. Give me a few days!

Valentine's Vindication

2009-02-16T06:12:00.000-08:00

I caved this weekend.

After my militant anti Valentines Day post on Friday I gave in and snuggled up to every romantic ideal I could muster. It was soppy, it was gushy and it was horribly sweet (for me). It was so unlike me that I had to check myself in the mirror before I went to bed just to make sure that I hadn't turned into a sop like that Orlando Bloom fellow(what kind of a surname is Bloom?).

Why on earth would I, the anti commercialism crusader, would I fold like a deck chair? Read on, read on!

It all started on Friday evening when Lee and I decided that we'd go out for dinner to Dopio Zero. It was unpredictably empty and there were candles everywhere, it seemed to me that these guys had started celebrating V Day a little early and were wondering why the romantic atmosphere hadn't translated to a full restaurant. We drifted onto the topic of romanticism after I spent fifteen minutes moaning about pushover guys that made men/boys like me look bad. The roses in the teeth, the long hair, the poetry and the silly gestures did nothing but make us normal dudes look stupid and unromantic.

Then Lee dropped the bombshell.

Lee: "But you aren't very romantic"

Tom: "Um what? I am so romantic. I am more romantic than Casanova"

Lee: "Exactly"

Tom: "What?"

Lee: "He's dead"

Ouch.

This sparked a little something in my head. I decided to ignore everything I'd said about the fourteenth of February and move the little dinner I'd been planning to the following day.

On Saturday morning I dropped Lee at work and went straight to the shops to get me some delicacies, wine and tulips. Tulips are hard to find. Eventually, after experiencing a few "You've left it a little late buddy" looks from aged florists I tracked my prize to a backwater shrub purveyor and (reluctantly) made my purchase (holyshittulipsareexpensive!). With my booty in hand I jumped into my car and headed home to plan my next move.

Sometime that afternoon I got a call from Lee to let me know that her Dad had fixed her and that he was on his way to drop it off. Great, that meant I didn't have to pick her up. At 4pm sharp I started straightening out the house, I laid the table (candles, flowers- the whole shebang), uncorked the wine and I got to cookin'.

The menu?

Salmon, lightly glazed in a sweet and sour sesame seed marinade on a bed of succulent basmati rice, roasted vegetables (not from a bag I'll have you know) and grilled olive ciabata.

It was delicious.

Then we went to watch Burn after Reading and we had desert and coffee at Ciao Baby's.

Lee loved every minute of it. Maybe this Valentines thing isn't soooo bad.

Did I do good?

PS: I've had a wonderful explosion of new readers lately so it's only natural that I make sure you understand the status quo. I ALWAYS respond to EVERY comment you may leave on my posts, so make sure you check back if you're interested. Thank you all so much for reading!

V-Day Ramblings

2009-02-13T05:49:00.000-08:00

This weekend is looking like it's going to be pretty average, and that's just how I like it. Lee and I share a common indifference towards 'V Day' as a whole and I don't see why one would have to highlight that you love someone on a predetermined date when you remind them every day (collective 'Awwwwww' please...thanks). No seriously, I'm weird like that.

This indifference has escalated itself to such a level that tomorrow Lee will be going to work from 9-5. Her car is dead at the moment so I have to drop her off and fetch her later so at least we'll share that time together. To celebrate, I'm going to battle Zombies on my TV with my friend Adrian. Romantic isn’t it?

Normally we see our folks on the weekend, either that or we clean, but this Sunday we're planning to head off to 'The Cradle of Human Kind' to look at some old bones. I noticed last week that this place of origin is only 50km's or so from where we live so I quickly decided that we should go pay homage to my ancient ancestors. I've always loved history so this should be really awesome. If we actually end up going I'll be sure to take my camera with for documentation purposes.

PS: If any of my readers are anti-evolutionary evangelists you can go suck it. It doesn't matter what you say -adding up the estimated ages of the major bible figures from Adam onwards is NOT a credible way of calculating how old the earth is. Screw it, I'm writing a post on this next week. For now I'll leave you with a pearl of wisdom - God didn't put fossils on earth to test us, they're actually dinosaur bones.

PPS: I drew a picture on paint today. It's been in my head for a while. It's a bit small so you might have to click on it to see it better, that red thing on the bottom left is a battery. Please let me know if I'm totally lame.

PPPS: My soundtrack for the weekend is 2Unlimited – No Limit

Happy weekend everybody!

Agree/Disagree?

2009-02-12T06:27:00.000-08:00

In the past three or four months I have learned two things.

Relationships Can Be Hard.

When I was in high school I always thought that when you moved in with your significant other everything would magically take care of itself. Arguments would be a thing of the past and a selection of woodland animals would dress, clean and bathe you to your hearts delight. Living happily ever after was a prerequisite of course.

It’s not always like that is it? Sometimes people and their characters can make it a little bit harder to play nice. I'm not going to get into it too much today because I'm feeling a little drained (don't worry, everything's fine), just trust that I'll be back tomorrow with a big smile on my face.

Agree/Disagree?

I Can Be an Asshole

All men, no matter how meek or mild, have at least a small measure of that chromosome that turns us into selfish, grunting douche bags. As much as I hate to admit it, this chemical is known to course and flow through my system now and again and I become the guy that you complain to your girlfriends about. I always learn from these episodes of douchery but sometimes it can take me a while.

Agree/Disagree

PS: I am NOT saying that women are perfect. There is a definitively bitchy gene that acts as a counter to the asshole gene in men.

As I'm sure you can tell, I'm not in much of a bloggish mood this afternoon. Forgive me; it happens to the best of us.

What's in the Bizag?

2009-02-11T05:45:00.001-08:00

I've been instructed by Bella to unhand the contents of my 'Man Bag' (what ever that means) and to subsequently show it to the world. I warned her that it probably wouldn't be pretty but she persisted so I gave up and I decided to let you guys in on what I carry around on a daily basis.

Let me categorically state however that the ONLY reason I carry a bag around regularly is for work and because I have a lot of things that I need (keeping me amused is no easy feat). So here it goes, I give you:

What's in the Bizag?

Here are the rules:

1. Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you can't go into your closet and pull out your favorite purse! We want to know what you carried today or the last time you left the house.

2. List how much it cost. And this is not to judge. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, we’d love to hear it.

3. Tag some chicks. And link back to this post so people know why the heck you’re showing everyone your bag.

This is my work bag and it's cool because it has the name of a beer on it. My girlfriend had it given to her while working promotions (because she's hot like that) in University and I stole it when I started working. It's blue and it has white bits on it here and there. It has two pockets and once I accidentally spilled the contents of my lunch into its murky depths, now it smells like chicken.

I am proud of my bag.

COST: No Moneyz

This is my big boy wallet. It comes from Polo and it's made out of cow. My little brother gave it to me as a gift for my 21st and it's one of my favourite things because (I think) it makes me look loaded, even when it's empty.

If there was such as thing as wallet porn this is what it would look like:

COST: The love of a good brother

These are my Wayfarers. Now before you all start telling me that I'm flogging a dead fashion horse I'll have you know that I was wearing these things before Johnny Dep knew how stumble around like a charmingly drunk pirate. These are my latest pair and they're awesome.

COST: R200 ($20)

These are my glasses. I use them for when I can't see too good. In fact I'm using them now. I found out today that they are from Guess, even though I've been dragging around the case (which proudly displays an enormous Guess logo) for over a year now.

COST: Monthly Medical Aids

Remember what I said about keeping me amused? I seriously carry these things around. Note the fake rock, Raphael Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle figurine, Pool Ball Bouncy Ball and aged Tennis Ball. When I get bored I fiddle with this stuff, I guess I still haven't grown up.

COST: Priceless

Ah, the practical things. Normally I load all of the CD's I'm currently reviewing onto a single disk. I also carry around I Pod cables, Phone cables, flash drives and teleportation units.

COST: I would estimate the total value of these here belongings at R300 ($30)

That little green book is what you need to get a bank account, a loan, a car, really anything in South Africa. It's my ID book. That receipt is for my gym - thanks Richard Branson.

COST: R875 ($87.5) and countless hours at home affairs

There you have it Lads and Ladies! What's the wierdest thing in your bag?

A Few Important Things

2009-02-10T04:32:00.000-08:00

Dear Anonymous Colleague

Sometimes, late at night, I wake up in a cold sweat, screaming foul obscenities at the top of my lungs. My voice hoarse and my eyes bloodshot, I usually shoot straight out of bed to attack the nearest inanimate object- which happens to be the wall. It takes me an hour or two to calm down but after a warm, milky drink I tend to drift back to sleep. It's inconvenient.

You see, I think this has something to do with you and how I want to tear head your head off on a daily basis. Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude and annoying to butt into conversations? Especially when they clearly don’t involve your person.

Unfortunately we’ve resorted to holding meetings in the corner of our open plan office in the hopes you won’t notice. Sadly the success rate has been, how can I say this? Dismal.

Your infinite capacity to bring me to the point of tears when you rip off those headphones and loudly display your interest in even the smallest titbit of dialogue, I fear, will very soon have me implicated for first degree murder by axe - and that will suck, more for you than I.

I sincerely urge you to take interest in my appeal for you to shut the f**k up.

Unkind Regards
Tom

PS: No matter how hard you try I will never acknowledge that saying 'free' is the same thing as saying 'three'.

Dear Rain

You're like that person that someone gets to know really quickly. It's great to begin with but the more I learn about you the less I want to stick around. Can't you tell that I don't like it every time you just 'pop in to say hi'?

I don't mean to be brash, but the last time we hung out you just pissed on my life for three weeks straight - friends don't piss on friends rain, so I've decided that don't want to see you for a while.

Don't you know that I refuse to wear shoes until the winter solstice?

Have you tried walking around in wet slops?

Maybe you should take a trip and bug those poor Australians. I heard they could use your help right about now.

Yours in sunshine and happiness

Tom

Dear Tom

Now I've heard what people have said about talking to yourself but this is important. Now that you've joined Twitter and a few people are actually reading your blog you should really make more of an effort to edit what you write. Bad spelling is for fools and poorly constructed, pompous sentences are a hallmark of first year journalism students.

Buck up buddy, you don't want to have put in all those hours trying to sound cool to throw it all away on a typo. Remember your 'I' before 'E' except after 'C' and you won't look like a tool.

PS: You are really really really good looking and you're going to get tons of valentine’s gifts this year.

Lots of love

Tom

Will You Do My Dishes?

2009-02-09T05:22:00.000-08:00

Have any of you ever had a problem with growing up?

I have. I spent my university years telling everyone that I had Peter Pan syndrome.

Me grow up? Pah, Never, Why?

This of course was is paradox because, if you know me, you will also know that I've also spent my entire life trying to be older (cooler) than I actually am. I've always thrived on being one step ahead of the curve, one leap forward, one put closer to the hole, one sentence closer to the punch line. Too much?

Now I feel like I pressed fast forward for too long, like a bad 80’s jukebox. Did I really pass go and collect two hundred dollars?

You tell me:

At 18 I left school and went straight to University. During that time I was in three bands, I was an editor, I toured the country, I held three jobs at once, I had a girlfriend, I organized festivals and I graduated.

Before I even finished my degree I already had a full time job. I spent my cherished last few months as a student working all day, coming home, studying and going to sleep. Two weeks after I graduated I signed the lease on a flat in Joburg and I moved in with my girlfriend.

I'm not an idiot; I (think) have my shit together, but today feel as though I'm looking at the world like a surfer would look at a Tsunami. Maybe I can ride it, but I might have to swallow a whole lot of water first.

I feel a little overwhelmed.

Paying bills, scrubbing floors, being broke, washing dishes, cleaning clothes and being poor sucks.

Can anyone tell me how long this might last?

Kudos to you Sirs and Madams!

Ok, tomorrow we're going to kick things off on a much lighter note.

I'll leave you with this:

'That Dude!'

2009-02-06T04:43:00.000-08:00

I have a confession to make. I love being 'that dude'. What dude you ask?

Well when you're introduced to an unknown band or performer that completely blows your socks off, that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time you'll always cast your mind back at some point and wonder where you first heard your new favourite band.

"Oh yeah it was that (insert name here) dude!"

I love that moment. There have been so many 'that dudes' that have enriched my life with albums, songs and artists that I listen to and religiously follow for years to come and I can't thank them enough.

Someone could take everything away from me one day, I could be down, destitute and next to death but I always know that I can call up on my memory bank of music and hum a tune.

Being that I'm actually a music writer and that I've been playing music for 13 years in 2009 I somehow feel ever so slightly qualified (not that these are prerequisites) to suggest a few amazing bands to you that you may not of heard of.

So check my list out, give it a listen, and maybe I can be 'that dude' to you. Nothing would make me happier!

Brand New

I started listening to this Long Island foursome (get yer mind out the gutter) when I was in high school. Never before had I heard the kind of poetic lyricism that Jesse Lacey spewed out album after album. He got me through plenty of break ups and sleepless nights. If you're going to listen to one song then listen to Jesus Christ:

Jesus Christ I'm not scared to die, I'm a little bit scared of what comes after
Do I get the Gold Chariot; Do I float through the ceiling?
Do I divide and fall apart? Cause my bright is too sly to hold back all my dark
And the ship went down in sight of land, and at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands?

Enough said.

Say Anything

What do you get when you give a bipolar, angry, incredibly intelligent, sarcastic Jewish kid a guitar? Say Anything. Forget Rage Against the Machine, I've never known anyone to kick the system in the balls with such complete eloquence. He also gets pretty sensitive and the songs are amazing. It takes a listen or two but when you're hooked that's it.

The Police

My favourite pre 90's band. Do I really need to introduce these guys? Stings' mix up of new wave and reggae was completely new and uncharted when they came out and since then The Police have really stood the test of time. Go buy their greatest hits and take in some lesser known songs like 'Walking on the Moon' or 'Synchronicity', then listen to the big ones like 'Roxanne' and 'Can't Stand Losing You'. Forget The Beatles, this is THE shit.

aKING

You didn't think I wouldn't drop some South African flavour in there did you? These guys are good friends of mine and are currently writing their second album. Over here their kind of a big deal and I think they are our best chance of exporting another South African rock band to the international circuit (did you know Seether are from SA?). The songs are amazing - it's Springsteen meets Foo Fighters all the way.

Fall Out Boy

Yeah yeah they're totally pop but I've been listening to them since 2003 so that makes me kind of cool right? I was given their new CD Folie a Deux to review and I'm in love with it. Such great melodies, such great lyrics.

We will never believe again, kick drum beating in my chest again! - (Coffee's for Closers)

There you go, five recommendations to chomp through if you see fit. If you enjoyed this post I'm willing to make it a weekly/monthly thing so let me know!

Be my 'that dude' and suggest some of your favourites to me!

My Favourite Thing

2009-02-04T23:56:00.000-08:00

Now I don't know if you guys remember, but my girlfriend is a Twilight fanatic. She steamed her way through the first two books like a 19th century cross country locomotive and although I didn't approve of Stephenie Meyers writing I ordered her the third book as a surprise.

Unfortunately I also ordered a DVD from Australia at the same time, a DVD that was supposed to take four weeks to get here. BIG mistake.

Apparently Australia is quite far away. Well that's what I've been told.

When Lee decided to run off and get herself Eclipse I had to step in and let her know that I'd ordered if for her, thereby ruining the surprise. In doing this I killed a can of worms and opened up a whole new set at the same time. She wasn’t going to run off and buy the book but she also wanted to know when it would arrive, every day, all day.

My MSN account is flooded with messages asking me to e mail Take 2 and request that they send the book separately from the DVD so that my girlfriend wouldn't have to go cold turkey for too long.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that the projected day of arrival was the 17th of February. I was too worried that she might go crazy and hold up a book store with a mask and an AK47. I didn't want to be guilty by association, no sir.

Imagine my relief then when the package arrived yesterday morning. I spent the whole day riling Lee up, telling her that Take 2 had lost the shipment and that it would take another 3 weeks. Obviously she was bumbed out, but she's a nice person so she refused to go and buy the book like a normal person. She decided that she'd have to wait.

When I got home last night I walked to the dining room table and she was cooking dinner (because my life rocks like that). I put my bag down, opened it up and muttered

Tom: Oh shit...crap; look at this (worried face)

Lee: What? What? (Walks up to me)

Tom: Your book arrived!!!!!!

Lee: Weeeeee!!!!!! (These are squeals of unrequited joy)

So I was in the good books. I didn't get to take advantage of though because when I came home from gym her face was already buried in the pages.

Cool.

I played some poker, watched some TV, read some books. She was still reading.

I wanted to go to bed. She was still reading.

I woke up this morning to find that she got up early, dressed and ate so that she'd get a fresh start to the day. Not, it's so she could read.

I actually think it's all kind of cute but, just for fun, I've developed a condescending smile I give her when I find her soaking in Edward Cullen and his band of soppy poofs.

It goes like this:

Tom: *condescending smile

Lee slowly looks up

Lee: Don't look at me like that!!!!!!

Tom: *condescending smile

Lee: You're making me feel guilty!!!!!!

Tom: *walks away

Lee: But I love you!!!!!!!

It's my favourite thing and it doesn't cost a cent. If Mrs. Meyer plans to swallow my girlfreind whole with her VERY average writing yet (supposedly) compelling story line I don't plan to go down without a fight. I'm going to play the guilt card.

It's on.

This is what Stephen King had to say about all of this commotion:

"Both Rowling and Meyer, they’re speaking directly to young people... The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good"

Well played sir. Well played.

Enjoy!

2009-02-04T04:42:00.001-08:00

Unfortunately I can't call this list my own, but it's too good not to be shared.

In honour of my complete and utter boredom at work I give you:

50 THINGS TO DO IN AN EXAM YOU KNOW YOU ARE GOING TO FAIL ANYWAY

1. Bring a pillow. Fall asleep (or pretend to) until the last 15minutes. Wake up, say “oh nuts, better get cracking” and do somegibberish work. Turn it in a few minutes early.

2. Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming “Andre, Andre, I’ve got the secret documents!!”

3. If it is a math/science exam, answer in essay form. If it is longanswer/essay form, answer with numbers and symbols. Be creative. Use theintegral symbol.

4. Make paper airplanes out of the exam. Aim them at the instructor’sleft nostril.

5. Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, “I’m SOOO sure you can hear me thinking.” Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.

6. Bring cheerleaders.

7. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About five minutes into it, loudly say to the instructor, “I don’t understand ANY of this. I’ve been toevery lecture all semester long! What’s the deal? And who are you? Where’s the regular guy?”

8. Bring a Game Boy (or Game Gear, etc…). Play with the volume at max level.

9. On the answer sheet (book, whatever) find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative.

10. Bring pets.

11. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh ofrelief. Go to the instructor, say “They’ve found me, I have to leave the country” and run off.

12. Fifteen minutes into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out “MerryChristmas.” If you’re really daring, ask for another copy of the exam. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every fifteen minutes.

13. Do the exam with crayons, paint, or fluorescent markers.

14. Come into the exam wearing slippers, a bathrobe, a towel on your head, and nothing else.

15. Come down with a BAD case of gagging and coughing. Be as vulgar aspossible.

16. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don’t know one, makeone up! For
math/science exams, try using Roman numerals.

17. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he’s not looking.Blame it on the person nearest to you.

18. As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.

19. Walk into the exam with an entourage. Claim you are going to be taping your next video during the exam. Try to get the instructor to let them stay, be persuasive. Tell the instructor to expect a percentage of the profits if they are allowed to stay.

20. Every five minutes, stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.

21. Turn in the exam approximately 30 minutes into it. As you walk out,start commenting on how easy it was.

22. Do the entire exam as if it was multiple choice and true/false. Ifit is a multiple choice exam, spell out interesting things (DCCAB. BABE.etc..).

23. Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out.

24. Get the exam. Twenty minutes into it, throw your papers downviolently, scream out “Forget this!” and walk out triumphantly.

25. Arrange a protest before the exam starts (i.e. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone’s done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink)

26. Show up completely drunk. (Completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy).

27. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why,tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, “the light bulb that goes onabove my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!”

28. Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day.

29. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 minutes, puton a white mask and start yelling “I’m here, the phantom of the opera”until they drag you away.

30. Go to an exam for a class you have no clue about, where you know theclass is very small, and the instructor would recognize you if you belonged.Claim that you have been to every lecture. Fight for your right to takethe exam.

31. Upon receiving the exam, look it over, while laughing loudly, say“you don’t really expect me to waste my time on this drivel? Days of our Lives is on!!!”

32. Bring a water pistol with you. Nuff said.

33. From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor’s requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on theRiver Kwai.

34. Start a brawl in the middle of the exam.

35. If the exam is math/science related, make up the longest proofs you could possibly think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into mostequations. If it is a written exam, relate everything to your own life story.

36. Come in wearing a full knight’s outfit, complete with sword and shield.

37. Bring a friend to give you a back massage the entire way through the exam. Insist this person is needed, because you have bad circulation.

38. Bring cheat sheets FOR ANOTHER CLASS (make sure this is obvious…like history notes for a calculus exam… otherwise you’re not just failing, you’re getting kicked out too) and staple them to the exam, with the comment “Please use the attached notes for references as you see fit.”

39. When you walk in, complain about the heat. Fake a faint.

40. After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.

41. One word: Wrestlemania.

42. Bring balloons, blow them up, start throwing them around like they do before concerts start.

43. Try to get people in the room to do the wave.

44. Play frisbee with a friend at the other side of the room.

45. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you.Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice.

46. Get deliveries of candy, flowers, balloons, telegrams, etc… sent to you every few minutes throughout the exam.

47. During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs,anything you can reach.

48. Complete the exam with everything you write being backwards at a 90degree angle.

49. Bring a musical instrument with you, play various tunes. If you are asked to stop, say “it helps me think.” Bring a copy of the Student Handbook with you, challenging the instructor to find the section on musical instruments during finals. Don’t forget to use the phrase “Told you so”.

50. Answer the exam with the “Top Ten Reasons Why Professor xxxx Sucks”

Twitter Me?!

2009-02-04T01:53:00.000-08:00

I joined twitter a little while back and I kind of left it at that. Not knowing how to make my slave and not knowing anyone on it kind of does that to you.

Anywho, I've finally found some bloggy people so I've decided to take this social networking thing to a whole other level.

If you want to 'add' me (is that what they call it on Twitter?) my name is thomas198729.

So um , go do it and let's invade each others personal lives minute by minute as opposed to blog by blog.

Smooch

Bitch Slap Virgin

2009-02-03T05:21:00.001-08:00

What's happening with me at the moment? Nothing much really.

It's weird how everybodies lives go from crazy interesting to mind numbingly boring in only a few days. Although Mtv culture would have you believe that if you're not constantly running around doing amazing things (things that generally involve a lot of money) then you're a loser.

If I'm wrong and you're all off base jumping, polo playing and treasure hunting then I'll eat my hat. Either that or I'll try really hard to suck up to you in the hopes that some of that gold dust will spill its way onto me.

In the spirit of my lack of goings on I've decided to tell one of my more embarrassing stories. Don't worry, it's funny.

My Dad always had me believe that you weren't a real man until you'd been in a fight (he never said those words I admit, but his tales of black eyes and bruises made a big impression on my boyhood psyche). He also made me believe that if you had a big mouth someone would eventually want to smack you upside yo' face.

I naturally put two and two together and developed a less than typical cocky teenage attitude, as a result my mouth slowly formed into a parachute like flap that never stopped articulating mybrash and uncensored thoughts. I'm still amazed that I made it through high school.

Despite my cavalier demeanour and less than respectful tone I made it to university a 'Bitch Slap Virgin' and for the first year everything went swimmingly and I didn't get kicked, hit, punched, toed or kneed once by the enormous Afrikaans seniors at my res. They actually liked the little Rooinek (Redneck) that I was. Score.

All good things must end however (much like Micheal Jackson’s music career) and at the end of second year my day of reckoning came to greet me like a drunk grim reaper (that's not pretty I'll have you know).

One evening my friends (Ryan and Lian) and I decided it would be a fantastic idea to go to a club down the road called Boston’s. It wasn't our usual spot and it was a little out of our way but variety is the spice of life after all (the drinks were cheap) and we went for it. Lian decided to drive so naturally Ryan and I went to the liquor store and bought some cheap Vodka to get us started off. By the time we decided to leave half the bottle had mysteriously disappeared, despite Ryan’s appeals to search for it I voted nay and off we went.

Drinks were flowing, moves were being busted out and I was steadily on my way. Don't judge me, I was a student. Things started getting so entertaining in fact that my friends lost me in the bathroom for a while. After wandering around by myself for about an hour (and when I say wandering I really mean playing pinball with the walls) the lads grabbed me and we headed out the door.

What happened next is still a blur to me. I was told the following morning that there was a group of five guys waiting outside for drunken students to heckle. Me and my big mouth (exacerbated by my alcohol consumption) weren't having any of it.

Our conversation went something like this:

Meatheads: Hey Bro why you so drunk?

Ryan: Man we're just trying to get home

Tom: HAAAY!!!!

Meatheads: What was that?

Tom: What was that your face?

Meatheads: Are you talking to me?

Tom: Losersaywhat!

Meatheads: What?

Tom: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Meatheads: Do you want to get yourself f**** up bro?

Tom: I'll take you all on, you bloody Dutchmen

And that's where it ended. As I'm sure you've figured out, the term 'Dutchman' isn't a very flattering name for someone of Afrikaans heritage. Now I don't have anything against the Afrikaans people at all, I was just looking for the phrase that would piss them off the most. It worked.

I woke up the next morning with a swollen face. A very swollen face. I thought I'd hit my head on the wall during a drunken trip to the bathroom. I limped to Ryan's room to have a chat.

Tom: knock knock (that's me knocking on his door)

Ryan: Hello

Tom: What happened last night dude?

Ryan: You don't remember? You called a bunch of guys Dutchmen and one of them hit you, then they hit Lian.

Tom: Oh shit is he ok?

Ryan: He was dragging you to the car so I think he got hit in the ribs, his face is fine. They chased us after we got in the car.

Tom: How did that happen?

Ryan: Well as we drove past them Lian told them he'd f**** their mothers, so they jumped in their cars and chased us for about 13k's. I thought we were going to die, you were passed out in the back.

Tom: Wow, I'm really sorry

Ryan: It's ok, it was pretty cool actually

And that's how I became a real man. I may have been drunk but I didn't take their shit lying down.

I still have scar tissue in my cheek today, it's weird.

Let's be friends

2009-02-02T06:06:00.001-08:00

Hi everybody

Want to be friends?

Ok then we need to get some things out the way first.

- My name is Tom

- I was born in South Africa

- My middle name is David

- I went to an all boys school where I played sports and jammed guitar at assembly. Not the lame sort of acoustic guitar you see at Church (if you do that sort of thing) but a mean guitar that the devil would have been proud of.

- I love peanut butter on toast with coffee, it's my favorite thing to eat.

- I am ridiculously fussy about me food. It has to be made a certain way, with certain ingredients in a certain order. To me only one peanut butter actually exists for example, all the rest are imposters.

- I went to University and I studied English

- When I was a wee' child I was eaten by a spider. Unfortunately I can't climb walls and no, I don't have 8 eyes only 3. What?

- I live with my girlfriend in a flat. We've been together for this - - long.

- I drive a soccer mom car. Don't judge me.

- My girlfriend and I like gin and lime on the rocks. That's her fault.

- I'm way too intollerant and I like things to be done my way. This annoys everyone, especially my girlfriend.

- I am a mean poker player.

- I am borderline obsessive about cleaning. You see, in my head, where I live has to look like a magazine.

- I like to pretend that I read serious academic material because of my education but Roald Dahl's 'Boy' is my favorite book.

-I love reading about peoples lives, why do you think I blog?

- Once I broke my arm trying to balance on a water drum . I was 13 and I cried like a baby.

- I had an emo fringe, cringe, it made be binge. Then I shaved off my hair and never looked back.

- I really really like eating out at nice places. Maybe I should blame this on my parents but I can only thank them for nurturing my expensive taste.

- I will live by the sea one day.

- My family have had Great Danes since I was about 10 and I can confirm that they are the dumbest, sweetest, most loving animals in the world. At the moment my parents have Julio (who is 4 and weighs 85kg's), his best friend is a little terrier called Ben (imagine Baxter from Anchorman).

- I grew up on a 5 acre plot climbing trees, building tree houses, riding motorbikes and chasing cows.

- I get really really angry with shitty South African expats who leave and then try and justify their mistake by trashing our country. South Africa is an amazing place to be. Yes it has it's fair share of problems just like everywhere else but it's definately not going to be the spark for impending Armageddon like some believe. If that's you then I say good riddance.

- I don't really get soccer.

- I LOVE going to gym. I'm not a jock, but it's something I really enjoy.

-One day I'm going to own an Aston Martin DB9.

Good, now we are best friends.

Me? Published?

2009-01-30T00:49:00.000-08:00

So I wrote a review for Call of duty 5 on MyBroadband.co.za the other day. Want to read it?

MyBroadband is one of the biggest websites in South Africa with over 750 000 unique hits per month. Wow.

Oh and for those of you who live in South Africa and didn't know, I also write for SL Magazine. I'm a featured contributer in the February issue so check it out!

Smooch

Movie Time

2009-01-30T00:11:00.000-08:00

Movies are an eventful experience with my lady.

Every time we head off to the cinemas to take in a piece of theatrical cinema we go through the same old rigmarol.

1) She's always late.

Is this just a girl thing or am I the only guy that suffers from this? No matter what happens, even if she's been getting ready for an hour I'll find myself tapping my toes and looking at the clock on the wall while she changes her bag, does her make up, ties up her hair.

This will ultimately annoy her. She'll come stomping out of the bathroom, hairbrush in hand and tell me that she'll be ready in a second and that I'm too fucking impatient.

2) We'll rush to get a ticket

And the line will be a mile long. We'll decide to use the self service swipe machine and she'll lecture me on how I should be swiping my card. I will get annoyed, because I've done it eleventy million times before.

3) We'll sneak in illegitamate food and drink

Have you seen the prices of popcorn lately? I'm not paying that. Now I know why piracy is so rife, it's the popcorn prices. Instead we'll slink off to the sweet shop and buy some treats, we both get Lipton Green Tea. It's just what we do.

We hide the sneaky treats in her bag. Turns out I should complain less about the time and consideration she takes in picking one.

4) Handing in tickets

At this point we'll head to the ticket collector woman/man and join the line to hand in our stubs. If ANYONE pushes in front of me I make them pay. One father in fact had his six year old son 'accidentaly' face planted into the ground by my foot for transgressing the sanctity of the line.

I'm joking.

Not really.

Ok I am.

Or am I?

5) We take our seats

Unless these are brand new lazy boys that are ergonomically designed and climate controlled Lee will probably complain about them.

6) We watch the trailers

And I try to make sense of what's happening on the screen while Lee tugs on my arm and tell sme she how she wants to see this move and how she loves this actress. She wants to see EVERY movie. She squealed when she saw the trailer for Mama Mia, I love her but seriously.

7) Paper crackling freakout

If anyone and I mean anyone, should have the audacity to rudely reach into their box of popcorn or re arrange their sweet packet Lee will cringe. She finds this super annoying. I tell her several times (8 at least) throughout the movie to just calm down.

8) Kissy Kissy Freakout

If there is any Sexy Time onscreen Lee will freak out. It embarasses her and she hides in my arm when it happens. If it involves boobs I love it. Polar opposites I tell you.

9) The Movie Ends

And we have to get out of there AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE!!!!!!!

10) Cake Time

We get cake and coffee. Sweet hey?

*THE END*

What's watching a movie with your significant other like?

The interview..dun dun dah!!!!

2009-01-28T06:23:00.000-08:00

Last year, towards the end of my degree I decided that it was time to get a job. I was desperately worried about finishing varsity and having nothing to do and no income. I would have to move back home and after three years of being on my own (sorta) I couldn't do that.

I spruced up my CV and started trawling the market. In three weeks I applied for 60 job offers and I sent 35 e mails to various publication companies asking about possible career opportunities(I counted them while I waited for a response).

How many replies did I get? One.

I had the good fortune one day to get a call asking me if I'd like to come in for an interview for one of the copywriter positions I applied for.

I said yes of course and a week later I walked into said companies offices all smart like, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

I was shit scared.

After my interview I thought I might have clinched the job but I wasn't sure. I didn't want to get my hopes up too high in the fear that if they called me and said they went with someone else I would be shattered. So I just forgot about it and three days later I left for a tour to Cape Town.

In the middle of the journey I was woken, something was buzzing. It was my phone.

Tom: Ugfghdfjndlns Hello?

Company: Hi tom this is Klaus (lets call him that) from The Company. Good news, you got the job.

Tom: That's great thank you!

Company: When can you start?

Tom: Um, can we meet next week to discuss the contract and everything? I'm just in Cape Town
Company: We really need you to start ASAP. I'll e mail you the contract. When do you get back?

Tom: Ok, I get back on Thursday

Company: So you can start on Friday?

Tom: Can we just meet up to talk about this?

Company: I'll call you tomorrow -click-

What I didn't know at the time was that the decision to take the job would result in three weeks of indecision, back and forths about contracts, salaries, you said this no you didn't until I got what I wanted.

Although I still had three months of University left I took it. I spent the rest of my varsity career getting up at 5:30 so I could drive 1h 30mins to work, work, drive 1h 30mins back, go to class, eat, go to gym, study/do assignments and sleep. It was stressful to say the least.

In November I wrote my final three exams and moved a whole bucket load closer. That was the end of that.

Now I'm working for the man full time.

So I'm pretty cool right? I got my first real job at my first real interview. The only problem lies in the fact that my job is agonizingly boring and repetitive, I also don't want to be a copywriter anymore.

Tomorrow I go for my second real interview. The job looks way cooler, pays better and the offices are only 2km's (1 mile) away from my house.

I'm shit scared again. I really really really want this job.

Anyone got any interview advice? I'm not exactly a veteran after all.

Getting Some Ink

2009-01-27T06:13:00.001-08:00

When I was in high school all my friends and I could ever talk about was getting a tattoo. We were in a band and hell, we were 'hardcore rockers' -we had to get at least a little bit of ink didn't we? We would spend hours discussing what we would get done. I wanted my birth date on my arm and my friend wanted to get a cross. We were badass.

When the time came for me to actually get one I lied to my parents about where I was going, I drove an hour out of the city with my new band, lay my 18 year old ass on a table and got some words pinned across my stomach. It was scary and exciting; I can still hear the whir of the gun in my ears and smell of the ink in my nose as the (incredibly friendly) tattoo artist worked her way across my abdomen.

Man my Dad was pissed when he found out where I was, so pissed in fact that he never mentioned it at all. That's weird for my Dad by the way.

A few months later I went back to get two giant swallows on either side of my pride and glory. It hurt like hell but in the end it was worth it. Two days later I went on tour around the country and tried not to put too much pressure on either side of me when I slept on friends couches and floors, to do so would be too painful.

When I showed my Mom she got so upset that she slapped me. She knew I did it and she got over it pretty fast but I guess it was the initial shock of seeing her baby's flawless skin painted over that upset her so much.

A year later my family went on a trip to an exotic island. I spent the entire time hiding from my Dad in fear that he would see. He knew about it of course, I'm just that much of a wimp.

The next time we went on holiday I refused to hide. It was a little awkward at first but eventually my parents came around and accepted that my tattoos were there and that there was nothing to be done about it.

They're awesome about it now but it took almost four years for my family and I to be ok with the fact that I went behind their back and got tattooed at such a young age.

Looking back, I can't believe how immature I was about everything. If I was that sure about it I should have just taken it like a man and happily exposed myself to everyone.

Do I regret it? No, not at all. Ironically enough my tattoos didn't commemorate a lesson learned like some, but rather a lesson to be learned in the future.

Why am I posting this today you ask? Well, we've just admitted a new (very tattooed) bassist into our band and he's going back to get some more ink in a few weeks time. I figured I'd tag along and mull it over. See, I'm still unsure of whether I should get any more. I'm a lot older and wiser but going through what I did was really hectic for me at the time.

What do you guys think? Do you have tattoos and how do you feel about them?

PS: That interview I told you guys about? I got it :)

The One Where I Rant About Car Guards

2009-01-26T05:31:00.000-08:00

Hihopeyourweekendwasgoodminewaslazygeedon'tmondayssuckhuh?

Ok....

Bella from That Damn Expat inspired me this morning with her eloquent ranting skills. She questioned the idea of tipping and why we tip people and I found myself all fired up at the end of it, ready to write rant of my own.

So here it goes:

Car Guards are as useful as a broken leg.

In South Africa when you park your car at a shop, school, university, place of public gathering, power plant, park, fountain, mountain, valley, river, lake, dam, amusement park you'll be assaulted by a man in a yellow jacket posing as a keeper of the peace.

These men will show you to an open parking space you've already seen direct you into said parking with wild hand signals (even though you know you can get in there with your eyes closed) and will stand at your window until you leave the car.

When you gather your things you will be greeted in a number of ways:

"Hi there sir/Madame"

"Hola chiefa"

"Hola Boss"

"One time my brother"

If you acknowledge them in any way you enter yourself into a silent contract with the yellow shirted man. A contract by which you agree to let the man 'look after' your car, protecting it from the vandals, thieves, hoodlums and neredowells that supposedly trawl busy parking lots in the middle of the day in exchange for a unspecified sum of money when you return.

If you choose to ignore these men you will often be responded to with a condescending hiss and click of the tongue. did I forget to mention that you will also run the risk of having your car scratched by the set of keys he carries in his pocket for just such an occasion or dented by the trolley he tugs around?

While you're spending time doing whatever you happen to be doing he might be bargaining with common thieves over how much he should be paid to look the other way while they steal your radio or at worst, your car. If this should happen you will notice the yellow shirted man swiftly skulk away when the police arrive.

If you are lucky enough to avoid these misfortunes you'll be greeted by a warm smile on your return, a smile that silently says "give me money" behind clenched teeth. If you get into your car without paying up you will be directed out of your parking space in a manner that wouldn't seem out of place in a driving instruction yard. As soon as you're out and ready to go he'll be at your window once more telling you how safe your car is and how it's still in one piece. If you refuse to pay up you're more likely to receive an angry swish rather than a friendly wave.

Yes, it's true. I hate Car guards.

They're completely ineffective, often playing parts in the crimes they're supposedly sitting there waiting to stop.

Do they carry guns? No.

Do they carry sticks? No.

Do they perhaps carry mace? No.

What do they carry then? A pocket full of change, given to them by hard working people for sitting there all day doing nothing.

Call me mean, call me insensitive, and tell me that it's providing jobs.

Sure it's providing jobs, jobs that are encouraging guys off the street to try and make as much money doing as little as possible.

Besides, why should I pay you to keep a car I paid for in one piece? Are you a mechanic perhaps? Because if you are we can talk.

Bah humbug.

Help A Blogger Out!

2009-01-26T05:17:00.001-08:00

Rachel from I'm a Mom in Real Life has recently set up her very own comic journal and she needs your help!

She's a really talented, really funny lady who has a pretty funny outlook on life.

All you need to do is go here and follow the rules. She's trying to garner votes for Top Web Comics 100 Real Life Comics list which will spread the word even further over the internets!

If you haven't checked out this blog then make sure you do, oh and you can win some pretty mean prizes too!

I tried to upload an example of what the comic is all about but my PC wasn't working out, you're just going to have to trust me.

10 Reasons To Be Happy

2009-01-23T05:37:00.000-08:00

Good morning/afternoon/evening to all of you peoples on the internets.

Today I'm a happy man. Want to know why? Here's why.

The Cricket:

Most of you won't know what this is. But If you do please skip the next few paragraphs.

Cricket is a sport. We play it a lot here in South Africa and it involves hurling a really hard, really red ball down a straight pitch at a batsman. Behind the batsman is the 'wicket keeper' who catches the ball if the batsman misses (whic can happen a lot). At any given time there are 11 players (fielders) on the field (which looks like a big oval with the pitch in the middle), two umpires (the bosses) and two batsman (one on either side of the pitch).

When the batsman hits the ball he has the option to make 'runs'. A 'run' is what it sounds like:one length down the pitch by both batsmen. The batsmen can be given 'out' in a few ways:

Being bowled: where the bowler manages to hit one of the three stumps located behind the batsman (kind of like a strike in baseball).

Being found LBW: where the ball hits the batsman on the pad and the umpires decides that if the batsman had not been there it would have hit the stumps.

Or being caught: (this one's obvious).

When the batsman is given out, the umpire sticks one finger up into the air like he's hailing a taxi.

It's all very complicated.

Anyway. We beat Australia today which is a special thing for many reasons but mostly because we in South Africa hate Australians when it comes to sport. Enough said.

Cricket looks like this:

Oh, and this:

A New Job?:

Recently I submitted my CV for a host of new jobs, most notably an Events Manager position. I got a call straight away from the recruitment lady for the Events position telling me how cool I was and how rad I am that kind of thing.

It looks like I'll get an interview and I'm really excited because if I get the job I'll be making a lot more money, I'll be out and about all day, I'll actually be responsible for something and I won't be bored out of my skull.

Why events you ask? Well, it's something I've been doing for a while with my own company Horse Productions. I've put together and organised almost live 40 shows now and I really really enjoy it.

Hold thumbs please!

Watchmen Movie:

Alan Moore's famous graphic novel Watchmen has been made into a movie by the same fella that made 300 and Sin City. Needless to say I'm practically wetting myself with excitement.

Check out the trailer to find out why!

Getting Paid:

I get paid this weekend. That means I'll have money to blow at strip clubs:)

Finishing Call of Duty 5:

I finished Call of Duty 5 last night. It's the longest game ever made. How do I know it's the longest game ever made? Well, I started growing my hair when I put the disk in and now I look like Orlando Bloom from Lord of the Rings.

It's a great game but good lord did it just go on and on and on and on. I'll be sure to slam it in the review I write for it this weekend.

My hair is this long now

Flight of the Conchords Season 2:

Bret and Jermaine are the only two good things about New Zealand. If you haven't watched this sitcom yet you should crawl out of your nuclear bunker and get some culture. Then tune in every week to watch season two. You will not be dissapointed, and if you are I'll eat my shirt. Really.

StumbleUpon:

This site is the only thing between me and (complete) insanity right now. It's rad. You click on links and it brings up interesting articles on everything from cow methane gas caputurers to pictures of baby Kangaroos. Thanks Future Backwards!

Trip to Americaland Dec '09:

Yeah that's right, I'm coming back for the fourth time! In December Lee, my parents, brother and myself will be jetting off to the land of the free (burger). We'll be in Washington, Florida and New York between mid December and the beginning of January. If you're there and you like me I wanna see ya!

New Readers:

My blog is growing like one of those sponges you put in the water and and then a day later it's a dinosaur. I just want to say thanks to all of you that have started reading/commenting and following. It makes me so warm and fuzzy inside:)

Oh and for you Lurkers, here's your chance. I know you exist. I have Statcounter. Unhand your um, hands and comment!

The Weekend:

Hooray! It's Friday! Happy weekend everyone!

PS: Another clown picture to get you in the party mood. I'm sorry, last weeks' was better.

My girlfriend is going to leave me...

2009-01-22T05:27:00.000-08:00

Most sincere apologies for the lack of blog yesterday. To be honest, I just wasn't in the mood. That happens to you guys right?

Oh and don't worry. My girlfriend isn't leaving me for realsies but it's getting harder and harder to pry her away from her book. What is she reading? The Twilight Series of course!

Damn you Stephenie Meyer! Damn you and your gripping story line, mediocre writing and over usage of words like 'perforated' and 'whan' in adjectival form!

What is it about this series that turns grown women into little girls? I've been living with a giddy 13 year old for the past two weeks! If I hear one more pre pubescent shriek from the 21 year old woman I live with I’m going to go on a rampage.

It has its benefits however; life has never been so quiet:) And she is kinda cute…

Today I had no idea what to blog about. I need help!

-What do you do when you have no what to post?

-What should I be blogging about?

-If I had no hands, how then would I be able to continue my blogging career?

Those are some pertinent questions indeed...

Oh and thank you for all the comments on the stripper article. For a minute there I thought it was going to land me in a bit of hot water.

PS: If ya'll want to talk to me and tell me how much you like/don't like/feel apathetic towards my blog then just drop me an email on iamtomblog@gmail.com. Yes, that's right; I opened a blog e mail address.

Twilight: Stealing our girlfriends one at a time

Blog Problems?

2009-01-20T23:06:00.000-08:00

Is anyone else having problems with the Blogger website/accessing my blog?

Everytime I log in all of your blogs disappear!

Lame..

Let me know!

Friday: I go to a strip club

2009-01-20T04:15:00.000-08:00

Should I tell this story or not?

Well, if you're reading this then I've decided on the later and you're in luck because it's pretty raunchy.

I assume most of you read yesterdays post about me being rear ended by a drunk driver on Friday afternoon, chasing him down and pseudo-arresting him. If not then you can read it here.

Later that night my lady, her friend and Ryan went out to dinner together to Piatto to blow off a little steam. Unfortunately Ryan got lost on the way to my flat and I got violated from behind (mind out the gutter please) by a Land Rover so needless to say, we were in the mood for a little bit of a party.

After a few drinks Ryan and I got to talking about what we wanted to do this year and before you know it, out comes"

Ryan: "I'm going to a strip club!"

Tom: Let’s do it NOWWWWWWWW!

I'd been drinking - what would you expect me to say?

We rushed through our meal, peeled away from the ladies (who decided they were going to do their own thing) and raced back to the flat to get changed.

Now, although I'm old enough I have never been to a strip club, I always thought it was immoral and degrading and........ (Do you believe me yet?).

I made damn sure that I was dressed up to the nines so as to avoid any suspicion the bouncer might cast upon me. I had the tucked in shirt, the jeans, the leather shoes and to top it all off - the popped collar. Yes, I said it. I popped the collar.

Fortunately it was only a short drive to Teazers Rivonia and before we could say "This is going to be awesome!" we were already there. After finding a parking next to ‘Adult World’ (how quaint) we walked into the rather unassuming strip club, passing the 8 foot bouncer without any trouble. After paying our R100 entrance we were then escorted into the club.

Nothing was happening.

The lights were low, the music was going but it was half full and fully clothed waitresses were walking around everywhere. This wasn't what I had expected. I had visions of naked girls serving drinks, dancing on poles, making out with each other but sadly...no dice.

We found ourselves a table and soon we were greeted by our waitress Rochelle:

Rochelle: So double what?
Ryan: Excuse me?

Rochelle: What double can I get you?

Tom: We were just going to have a beer

Rochelle: Beer is a pointless drink. What's it going to be?

Tom: Ok, um double whiskey and soda water please

Ryan: I'll have the same, thanks

Rochelle: And a shot?

Ryan: Whoa, just let us warm up first!

Rochelle: Ok (smiling sweetly)

As our drinks arrived the first dancer hit the stage. She was moving and grooving and gyrating and then her top was off and then, um ok, everything was off and she was doing some stuff with the pole, and then she was crawling around…

Ryan: I didn't know they got completely naked!

Tom: Yeah! They do! (Trying to sound cool)

Ryan: This is AWESOME!!!

A few minutes later the remaining dancers were let loose into the room like a pack of rabid wolves, on the look out for the fattest pockets and the most drunken of men. Sadly, two of the ugliest strippers I've ever seen sat at our table and started chatting to us. Obviously we didn't look very appealing.

I wish I could say I was lying but I decided that I needed the bathroom and left Ryan there to fend for himself. Call me an asshole, I am one, but I couldn't sum up the courage to stay. When I got back I found out that Ryan had used hit wit and charm to get rid of them and that we had two shots waiting for us from the table of tattooed Indian guys next to us.

Thanks tattooed Indian guys!

After watching everyone else in the club get table dances, including the couple sitting in the corner (the stripper paid more attention to the guys’ girlfriend than the guy -awesome!) we figured we should man up and we decided to get one ourselves. In the most sheepish, bashful, this is our first time at a strip club voices we asked Katy, a girl who had introduced herself to us earlier, if she'd like to give it a go.

She didn't waste any time, let me tell you. With a short hiss she called a cleaner over to remove our drinks and wipe down the table. In a flurry of 4/5/6 inch heels and lace she got on the table and started dancing.

I cannot tell a lie, I had to look. Ryan and I spent most of the time laughing to each other while she gyrated above us but she was a great sport because she was laughing too.

At the end of the dance she made me kiss her ass (and by ass I mean outer thigh, don't worry ladies) until she was satisfied that I'd done it correctly. Then she picked her underwear off our heads, got dressed and walked away smiling.

And we were smiling too

Ryan: HOLYSHITHTATWASAWESOMEIWANTTOLIVEHERE!
Tom: DUDEIKNOWHOLYCRAPTHISISFUNSUPERLOLZ!

Awesome!

We had the good fortune to be sandwiched between the two richest tables in the club and so during the next few drinks (and shots courtesy of tattooed Indian guys) we just sat and stared at all the craziness that was happening on either side of us. And by craziness I mean nakedness.

At about 3pm, after laughing, drinking, high fiving and chatting to a bazzilion Russian/Polish/Serbian strippers (why were they all Eastern European?) we packed it in and went home. I had to literally drag Ryan out of that club after he decided that Teazers, Rivonia was where he should spend the rest of his days. It wasn't easy, but I did it.

PS: My girlfriend was totally cool with it

You maybe think I'm a dirty, chauvinistic, cave Manish male but fuck it, I had fun. And so did those strippers when they took our money. Let's just say it was a mutually beneficial evening.

We spent the next day talking about how it is that women can do that to men. If anything, the girls that were working that night had the upper hand, not us. Oh and we also mentioned how AWESOME it was a whole lot too.

Girls: Don't judge me. This was an important step in my final ascension into manhood. Oh and it was AWESOME! Don't worry though, it wasn't that dirty and it was all in good fun.

Guys: You know exactly what I'm talking about.

Friday: I get rear ended by a drunk driver

2009-01-19T04:42:00.000-08:00

Now there’s nothing funny about drunk driving –it’s stupid, dangerous and irresponsible – but my run in with a drunk driver on Friday was hilarious. Well, kind of.

Home time rolls around on Friday afternoon and I jump into my car eager to get back because, as some of you may know, my friend Ryan was on his way to my flat and we were all due to go out for a meal. Unfortunately the traffic was terrible, real stop-start kind of stuff, and I found myself getting pretty pissed at the fact that it was taking longer than usual to drive my 13km’s home in the sweltering South African heat.

Eventually I made it to the point at which I cross over the highway. This is a watershed moment in my journey because, when I make it over said highway I know that everything is going to be ok and that I’ll be home soon. I’m feeling relieved, excited and a whole host of other colorful adjectives.

And then…WHAM!!!!!!

I jolt violently forward in my seat and my bag of groceries goes flying forward into the dashboard like a malfunctioning parachute, spilling cracker bread everywhere. I check my rearview mirror, slightly confused, not quite sure if I’ve actually been hit because the driver of the Land Rover behind me isn’t flinching.

It’s a big fuck off kind of Land Drover, the kind you’d expect to be transporting legions of mercenaries through the depths of Africa for example, not the kind that you’d expect to find in Friday traffic.

After a few seconds I decide that something isn’t right and I leave my car to inspect the damage. I discover that my rear bumper is badly scratched and cracked down the middle and yet still no response from Mark Staddard behind me (we’ll call him that because that’s his name, bastard). Eventually I walk up to his window to let him know he’s hit me, he takes one look at my face and he speeds away.

At this point my blood really starts pumping. Finally my dreams have come true. Finally I get to test out the mad driving skillz I’d mastered playing Need for Speed all those years ago. I jump back into my car, rev the engine like I’m an extra in Fast and the Furious and begin to chase the asshole down. Eventually, after plenty of red lights and stop streets he pulls into a housing complex and, after convincing the security guard to let me in I track him like a wild animal to a side street where he’s trying to hide from me.

I get out and walk up to his car with the kind of pirate swagger that wouldn’t be out of place in The Godfather, he winds down his window and a conversation ensues:

Tom: Um, you hit me back there

Mark: Uh wha? Whore ewe?

Tom: I’m Tom and you hit my car

Mark: But thes noreven any damach

Tom: Yes there is. It might not be a big deal to you in your big land drover but if I want to resell the car I’m going to have to fix it.

Mark: Ofcorsh, well you haf my detailz

Tom: No I don’t, do you want to give them to me?

Mark: But thes noreven any damach

Tom: You just said that.

Mark: What’s thiz gonna take?

Tom: Well I’m definitely going got have to replace the bumper, that’s about R2000. Do you want to see?

Mark: Yesho

Then Mark Staddard gets out of his big Land Rover and face plants into the tarmac.

I can’t decide if he’s dead or just sleeping.

Slowly he picks himself up and starts staggering off in the general direction of my car.

Mark: But thes noreven any damach

Tom: Yes, see there is (shows him the damage). Besides, I can tell you’ve been drinking.

Mark: Yeah we’ve all been drinking! (Hiccup)

Tom: Clearly. Look this is going to cost me some money. If you want you can give me R2000 and get someone to pick you up and this will all go away (I say this in my best gangster tone).

Mark: But thes noreven any damach

Tom: Yes there is, I’m calling the police.

Suddenly, with the speed of a Kenyan sprinter, Mark runs to his car and races off. Once again I’m in hot pursuit. He’s headed toward entrance to the gated community we’re currently trapped in and after screaming out my window at the security guards I manage to persuade them not to let him out.

Tom: Now I’m really calling the cops

Mark: Wait, wait! what’s thiz gonna take?

Tom: I told you; give me the cash and this can all go away. Do you have someone who can pick you up?

Mark: No, no one

Tom: Ok, then you’ve run out of options, I’m calling the police

Mark: No! I’ll sordyou out

Tom: That’s a nice watch you have there... (ok I made that part up)

Tom: Ok, just write down your details (gives me his business card and falls over)

Eventually I notice that I am running late, so I whip out my phone and take a quick video of his drunken ass, his number plate and make sure I have all his details. I also take a security guard to the side and explain to him that I am calling the police but that I also have to leave.

Very clearly I explain that they should not, under any circumstances let Mark Staddard of Kyalami Estates; Midrand drive away until someone arrives to arrest him. Security guard happily agrees, I call emergency to report the problem and I start driving home.

Who meets me at the lights at the top of the road? Mark Staddard of course.

I give up.

Is it my fault? ProbablyL

The weekend roundup: What's on my desk.

2009-01-16T07:01:00.001-08:00

Happy Friday everyone!

For us here in South Africa there's not much of it left but it's only just beginning for those of you in America enjoy it while you still can!

Suckers! We're totally closer to the weekend than you are. But then again on Sunday you're further from Monday so I guess that balances things out.

When I'm at work my desk tends to get pretty messy and it's the one thing I hate sorting out. It's kind of my home away from home so I try not to not to ever let it get TOO clean.

Kind of like this
Things on my desk at the moment:

24" Flat Screen Monitor: Yeah, my work is baddass like that
Keyboard+Mouse
Lunch Box: Pink
Styrofoam rock: When I got this I liked to throw it at the people I work with
Coca Cola Football
Tennis Ball
Raphael Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Action Figure
Hulk Action Figure (Hanging off screen)
Lycra remains from the gym ball we destroyed yesterday
Assorted Pens
Calendar
Phone
Money
Headphones

What do you have on your desk?

This weekend's going to be mighty entertaining one, that's for sure. I've got my best mate Ryan coming through for a few days. I've known him since I was 10 and we went to school together, played in bands together, went to varsity together and shared a room at said varsity.

I haven't seen him for almost two months and although it might seem homoerotic I'm looking forward to hanging out with him.

When the weekend spits me out on Monday with only vague recollections of X Box's, Wii's, Beer and Braais I'll tell you all about it.

Wish me luck, that's all I'm saying.

PS: I'm a total conspiracy and undercover story whore so if you share that fascination with me you have to check out Damn Interesting. It's a group of fantastic writers who've compiled reports on everything from whether one remains conscious when one is decapitated (a question we've all pondered I'm sure) to an American Fascist coup that lost steam.

Sorry for the short, wierd, disturbing post.

Have a great weekend! Here's a picture of a clown to get you in that party mood:

Mmmmm...works so good!

It's a Tagathon!

2009-01-15T05:24:00.000-08:00

Ok, so yesterday I made the decision to write a few posts about my life. Yesterday was all about being born and then being eaten by a spider for example.

But writing about your life is really hard and can kind of take it out of a guy. Making something relatively normal seem interesting is like trying to take a tomato and turn it into a bloody Mary, you can do it but it's not that easy.

It's for this reason that I've decided to make the 'My Life' saga a Wednesday thing. That way you guys don't end up bored and I don't end up mentally exhausted. Ok? Deal? Great!

Right, on to business.

Today I'm going to tag a few of my favourite Bloggers and try to entice them into answering a few questions.

These are Blogs you should really really be reading. Sure I don't have a lot of readers right now (ok I have 4), but if even one person happens across my blog and follows a link on to one of these amazing Blogs then that's awesome!

That Damn Expat - I've been reading Expat's blog for a few months now and it's grown so quickly. She's really smart and stuff and she likes to write about Sunday Schools and her cleaner Magda (among other things of course). Oh and did I forget to mention that she just got married, on New Years Eve? Read it!

Wild ARS Chase - This is one of the most refreshing guy blogs I've read. He's a really funny fellow and writes about his girlfriend Capricorn, Christmas Door Competitions and Bromances. Not necessarily in that order of course. In a world of (generally) female bloggers this is my dosage of 'dude' for the day, and it's great.

Confessions of a Jersey Girl - Rachel is a great writer and she's been through some pretty hectic stuff. It's really cool to read up on how she gets through it all and moves forward with her life. Yeah, it sounds totally gay coming from me but I think she's awesome. Oh yeah, and she just got her own page/URL!

I'm a Mom in Real Life - Ok this is just funny. I haven't read a more honest, down to earth; take me as you see me blog before. Rachel and her husband Dan and her Daughter Diana get up to some pretty funny stuff. Check this out on a Wednesday especially if you like Vlogs!

Clever Girl Goes Blog- Tia is one of the best writers around. Sure she's huge (think 1600 followers huge) but her posts are personal and really witty. She's a complete princess and that makes me laugh. This was the first blog I started reading when I signed up to Blogger.

Ok. So if any of you tagged peoples read this I challenge you to do a post answering a few (not so easy) questions!

The questions we REALLY want answered tag:

*serious face for serious questions

Rule 1: There are no rules! Kapow!
Rule 2: Ok the only rule is don't forget to tag at least three Blogs that you read regularly when you're done!

1) Where does the toe tag go on a dead person if they don't have toes?

2) Do dentists go to other dentists or do they just do it themselves?

3) Isn’t Disney World just a people trap operated by a mouse?

4) If when people freak out they are said to be "having a cow", when cows freak out are they said to be "having a person?"

And the real cruncher:

5) How fast do hotcakes actually sell?

That's it, only 5 questions. Easy!

My Life - Part 1 (Being Eaten by a Spider)

2009-01-14T06:43:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately my daily life is kind of boring and sometimes I struggle to find inspiration for my blog. Usually I go to work, stare at a screen, come home, eat, go to gym, read and go to sleep.

So it's in honour of that lack of inspiration that I've decided to write a few posts about how I came to be the squirrel that I am today! Hope you enjoy it, here it goes....

I was born in Johannesburg, South Africa in 1987 on July 29 at 15:40 after putting my mother through 36 hours of labour (sorry mom). I think I weighed 3.2kg and I had all my fingers and toes. A few days after I was born my mom was re admitted into hospital with complications. Unfortunately for my very inexperienced, previously childless Dad, the nurses wouldn’t re admit me into the maternity ward and I was handed to him along with a bottle, a few diapers. After spending a few days with him in a hospital linen closet my Mom got all better and we headed home to our little house in Benoni.

PS: I found out about 18 years later that my current girlfriend, who I live with, was admitted into the same antenatal ward the very day I left it. How about that?

I was the second grandchild in my family and the first boy so naturally I was completely fawned over and spoilt. At that time all four of my grandparents were alive and I visited them all the time, you would swear I was a little Italian king given the way my grandmothers obsessed over me.

About 18 months after I was born my little brother, Daniel appeared and three became four. Daniel was dopey and stuck in his own world from day one, he still is today.

A few weeks later my Mom noticed that I had developed a red spot on the back of my left knee. She took me to the doctor who diagnosed it as an insect bite, gave me some cream and sent me home. Ten days later the little red dot had turned into a mean and vicious black spot, I was screaming and crying all day and I wouldn't sleep. After a whole crap load of confusion the same doctor called in the advice of an etymologist (insect guy) who told my mother that I had been bitten by a Violin Spider, one of the most venomous little critters in the world.

I could have been bitten anywhere but it seemed likely that it would have been while I was asleep in my cot. The cytotoxic venom started moving through my system and eventually settled around the bite (behind my knee) and down my leg near my ankle. The poison started to literally eat away and kill the flesh in the affected areas, leaving it dark and discoloured, kind of like this (NOT FOR THE SQEAMISH!).

A few days later I was admitted into hospital for what would eventually become almost two months. In that time the doctors had no choice but to carry on cutting away the dead flesh in the hopes that the poison would dissipate and leave my leg intact. It all got pretty serious and my Dad told me a year ago that the surgeons explained to him the night before I started fighting back that soon they would have to amputate both my legs or I would die (my Mom still doesn't know this so don't tell her ok?).

Eventually I started responding to the venom and it neutralised. I needed a number of skin grafts to repair my leg and doctors had to cut wafer thin slivers of skin from my backside to cover the affected areas in the hopes that the grafts would take.

Unfortunately skin grafts weren't too widely practiced in 1989 and a douchebag general surgeon cut an inch thick chunk out of my right thigh and slapped it onto the affected area with all the grace of a pig on a unicycle. It obviously failed to take and I almost bled to death after he severed one of my main arteries. Later, my parents tried to sue him but were unsuccessful because everyone knows you can't sue doctors, even if they butcher a two year old.

After more than 6 graft operations and lots of recovery I learned to walk again and I started healing. I still have massive scars on my legs from that adventure and chances that I will have to have further surgery at some stage to release the pressure behind my knee from the scar tissue (which doesn't grow).

It was all pretty hectic, and my parents spent many sleepless nights at the hospital with me. Thanks to them and the (not so) wonderful wonders of modern science I eventually got better and ventured off to experience exciting things like school, girls, cars and rock music……

But more about that tomorrow!

The Guinea Pig Debacle

2009-01-13T06:33:00.000-08:00

So, as some of you know, I live with my girlfriend in a half tiny loft apartment in a bit of a posh neighborhood in Johannesburg. We have two balconies, one bedroom, one bathroom (shower only), a dining/kitchen area and a loft upstairs. It's not huge but it's home and we love it.

Now my lady has always been a stickler for anything cute and furry. She grew up with a host of dogs, cats, birds, chickens, tortoises, rats, well you get the picture.

In the beginning of 2008, to put a stop to her near constant whining I bought her a little hampster, nice, neat and easy to keep. Naturally she was absolutely over the moon and I was replaced for a few weeks with this little grey rodent. Eventaully everything settles down and we got on with our lives.

When we moved in she happened to notice that we lived in a pet friendly complex full of cats and dogs. Whenever she saw one she'd give a shriek and grip my arm so tightly that I'd start to get pins and needles. Our conversations usually went something like this:

Lee: KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tom: We can't get a cat woman, we live three stories up and the cat wouldn't be able to get back up again if it went outside for an adventure.

Lee: KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want one!

Tom: Seriously, we can't get a cat. It's going to live for 18 years and we don't know where we're going to be then. You can't take pets overseas.

Lee: Please? Meow...

Tom: And what about Eliot? (our hampster)

Lee: He lives in a cage. Meow, please? Meow?

Etc Etc.

Anyhow.

About a month ago Lee started dragging me to a few pet stores "just to look". Big mistake.

I sort of hinted that I thought the guinea pigs were kind of cute. Heck, I really do love animals and those furry little balls of fur were running around with each other and it was kind of cool.
For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, Guinea Pigs (called Cavies) in the US, are basically super big, clever sociable hampsters.

Naturally Lee jumped on this with girlfriend claws outstretched and managed to convince me that getting two of these little critters would be a good idea.

Lee: "And you can train them, and cuddle them, and feed them lettuce and play with them...."

For some unknown reason I went along with this and it became a giant snowball that just grew bigger and bigger as it rolled on. I thought that it would be kind of cool to get some friend for Eliot and that it couldn't hurt because the things would only live for 3 years anyways.

After a few e mails we found a breeder and Lee went and picked two out. She scheduled to pick them up the following day after we'd sorted out the cage and whatnot. Then we quickly ran out to spent way too much money before the pet store closed on a small rabbit hutch and a few accesories.

We got home and i set myself to contructing everything, filling the cage with assorted grasses, installing the toys and filling the water bowl.

That's when I decided it was enough.

Our apartment smelled of hay, the hutch was enormous and grass was getting everywhere.

I sat on the stairs and started eyeing Lee out, trying to telepathicaly let her know that i no longer thought this wasn't a good idea. She kept looking at me and smiling that 'I can't wait until I get my new furry babies' smile and generally missing the hint.

Eventually I caved in:

Tom: "Everything kind of smells like grass"

Lee: "It's fine! It will go away, don't worry"

Tom: "That cage is kind of big, and the grass smell is really bad"

Lee: "Do you want to get the Guinea pigs still?"

Tom: "No"

Lee: "What?"

Tom: "Do you?"

Lee: "Not really"

Tom: "Thank God"

Call us bad people but we pulled apart that cage quicker than I could say "I'm sorry Guinea Pig breeder, this aint for us". We took the cage back the next day with the excuse that it didn't fit our apartment, which it didn't..kind of, and after recieving some very dirty looks from the pet store guy as he handed us our R1000 back in cash.

All in all we felt kind of bad but hey, we went and had a waffles right afterwards with our pet cage money and that made everything go away. Yeah, we're nasty people and yes, those Guinea Pigs had to stay with their Guinea Pig family but at least I'm not sweeping hay and cutting an assortment of fresh vegetables that aren't intended for my ingestion every evening.

No pets for a while if you ask me.

Getting ma' head outa whak bitchez

2009-01-12T01:14:00.000-08:00

Holy Crap I'm tired..

So my weekend went pretty much according to plan.

We had an awesome practice session on Friday night, and the show on Saturday was an AMAZING success. I'm not sure if it was because it was the first gig of the year or because it was Andre's last show with us, but we had about 300 paying guests.

I've done a lot of shows at that venue, and we DOUBLED our previous attendance record. It was so much fun, we played really well and I went to bed with a huge smile on my face.

The braai was also great. We had to move it to a friend’s house because so many people came. I drank beer and cooked all afternoon and in the end (after waiting about three days for the fire to cool to a reasonable temperature) the food was delicious. So high fives to me - 'Braai Master Tom'.

I've also come to the conclusion that I'm way to sensitive. I have a nasty habit of taking things too seriously sometimes and I tend to get really worked up about what people say to me. It's starting to affect my relationships with my girlfriend and my friends and that's not cool.

So often Lee will say something to me in an oh so slightly snarky tone and I'll freak out. I know I sound like a girl (no offence ladies) but I've had this problem all my life and it's a tough habit to kick. When you grow up constantly on the look out for approval it can be hard to rewire the bizniz up in yo head.

About a year ago I got into Karma and trying to gear my thoughts towards excepting people for who they are and not letting their moods or actions get me into a funk. Unfortunately I fell off that wagon a bit this year but I can slowly feel myself getting my head getting back on again, which is awesome. I felt great when I was at my mental peak. Very little would phase me and that would free up my mind to do the important stuff, like thinking about what I was reading or listening to or seeing etc.

Last time this happened I went on this weird exercise where I drank nothing but water and didn't eat any bread and only a small amount of meat. I know it sounds completely crazy but it really helped, and while I definitely don't see myself going that far for a second time I might try something similar sometime soon.

Ok, so I hope you guys don't think I'm a hippy now. I don't own a caftan and I'm not much into bartering really (unless someone wants to take my broken computer off my hands in exchange for their not so broken one?).

I think we all have our weird quirks and ways of getting ourselves into the right space. Mine is starving myself of beer and reading philosophy. Sure it sounds strange, but it works.

What do you guys do? Do you have any advice?

PS: I apologise for the title of this blog. In no way do I endorse the common usage of the words ma', whak or (and especially) bitchez. Sometimes I just need to purge my inner Ghetto. Word to yo' mother.

I figured out what Templates were!

2009-01-09T07:02:00.000-08:00

In honour of my resolution to clean up my blogging act and actually take this seriously I've started to edit my profile!

It's not much yet, but soon you'll have photo's and logos and headers and all that jazz. I'm pretty bad at this but, along with my decision to hike up my writing socks, I've also decided that it's finally time to learn to use Photoshop. This is going to be one heck of a jump considering I've never used a design program apart from Paint in my life and I'm generally terrible at that kind of stuff.

Nevertheless, I'm not an old dog yet, so here's to me jumping on the design technology bandwagon.

I see this year being good to 'I am Tom' - Fingers crossed!

Sad news for my woman, her girls night has been cancelled in favour of a 'go out with her sisters boyfriends parents for dinner' night. That might be awkward, too awkward for me. I'm glad I have an excuse.

Me, I've got my guitar next to me and I'm watching the clock. 53 minutes to go and I'm off to band, hooray!

Have a great weekend!

Blogging for the blind?

2009-01-09T01:27:00.000-08:00

I don't know if anybody has noticed this, but when you leave a comment on a fellow bloggers post you have to fill out something called a capcha.

This is a series of random letters put on place to check that you are a real human and not some sort of evil spybot, hell bent on taking over the interweb.

Every comment we post we have to fill in tresdf or tyudss or njdfaw. We see with our eyes, and then we type what we see with our fingers while again utilizing said eyes to look at the keyboard.

Why then, on God's green earth, would Blogger put a disability sign next to the type in box?

This is kinda what it looks like.

I pondered on this for while and finally decided to run my cursor over the icon in the hopes that Blogger would provide some sort of information.

It said "listen and type the words you hear". Now that's a revelation.

I assume this is directed towards blind people. But if you're blind how the hell do you navigate the internet let alone have the foresight (I'm sorry, I really am) to click on a tiny disability sign this - - big?

This is clearly ridiculous.

If you were blind would this piss you off?

My weekend...

2009-01-09T00:57:00.000-08:00

Fridays are the best days.

This weekend I'll be going to band practice after work, after that I'll probably have a few drinks with the guys before I head home.

Lee is off to have a girls night with her sister and some friends tonight so that means she won't be home before twelve, leaving me all the time in the world to play X Box and listen to loud, angry music before she gets back. When she gets home she'll definitely have some pearls of wisdom to share with me about how to flaunt your cleavage and not spend a cent on drinks all night. Awesome, I'm so proud of her.

After that I’ll probably do the fancy dance, brush my teeth and go to bed.

Tomorrow we're getting up early to head back to our parents house for the day. This will give me an opportunity to steal whatever I need for the Braai (barbeque) we're having on Sunday from my parents. When I say steal, I mean borrow, and when I say borrow I kind of mean claim as my own.

The list is:

- Meat
- Beer
- Charcoal
- Chairs

The fact that my Moms will watch me pack all this stuff into my car and drive off into the distance makes it that much cooler.

I'll get home, shower and then somehow slip into some skinny jeans for the show tomorrow night. I used to be a big fan of having my nether regions cooped up for hours on end in a limited amount of denim but lately I've been getting over it. Nevertheless, and in the spirit of keeping up appearances I'll spill myself into my tightest pair, pack my gear and leave for the venue where I will:

- Arrive and chase the sound guy around, getting him into shape and back on time
- Shout at the opening band who haven't arrived for sound check yet
- Franticly try to bribe the barman to give me the change I should have gone to the bank to get
- Stamp a whole lot of people after taking their money
- Get onstage and rock some faces, sweat, sing, gyrate, jump, run, sing, sweat, sing, gyrate etc
- Re apply my make up (figure of speech)
- Stamp some more people
- Pay some people
- Pack up
- Go Home
- Sleep

See how I made my list go from biggest to smallest by limiting the number of words I used in each line? I'm an artist, I know.

On Sunday I'll wake up, take my woman out for a big breakfast at our breakfast place where they make the most fantastic eggs, mushrooms, steak etc ever.

Go home and clean clean clean.

Get ready for everyone to arrive, set up the chairs, light the fire.

I'll watch everyone arrive with a smile on my face while thinking
"If these guys piss on my toilet seat I'm going to throw them off the balcony"

I'll drink some beer, cook some food, eat some food, laugh a bit and then everyone will go home.

At this point we'll clean our little flat (again) and settle down to watch the Sunday night movie, which happens to be the Golden Compass this week. Hooray.

Lee will go to bed, I'll play some X Box or read little and then I'll turn into a werewolf (not really).

It sounds so exciting; I can't wait for my weekend to start. What are you guys going to be doing?

Woe, I have it

2009-01-09T00:28:00.000-08:00

I just wrote an enormous post for you guys. Explaining how I'm turning over a new leaf and how I'm going to be blogging more and everything. It was awesome, so awesome.

It was more awesome than a drunk monkey.

Then my computer deleted it.

I'm so bummed right now.

Please don't give up on me. I'll be posting every weekday from now on, and they will be cool posts full of witty anecdotes and hilarious stories about my life, I'm just a little sad right now. Especially because I complied an informative list of 9 things that make me happy.

They were:

1) Peanut Butter and Chocolate
2) Gym
3) Music
4) Wes Anderson
5) Self depreciating, sarcastic British humour
6) Satirical animated series
7) Planning things
8) Being organised
9) I can't remember....

When I do remember I'll rewrite and publish it. For now please accepet my humblest apologies, the little attention I recieved last year ( thanks Expat!) was underserved. I promise to work harder at earning collective, Bloggy love.

I'm off to wallow in a pool of self pity. When I pull myself out of it and dry myself off I will creat a post of sheer wit and excelence.

I hope you all had a frikken awesome christmas new year. Mine was very hot and fun. I got an X Box!

My Interview a'la Expat

2008-12-18T04:19:00.000-08:00

I was reading "That damn expat"s blog the other day when I saw that she'd come accross a fantastic bloggy idea wherebye your readers ask you to interview them and you e mail them five questions that they have to answer.

I figured what the heck and I commented asking her to interview me, and she did!

Ok so it works both ways. if you want me to interview you just reply to this post by commentin 'Interview Me' and I'll do just that!

Here are the rules:
1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Question 1:
I've never been to South Africa but am planning a trip for the World Cup. Introduce me to your country.

Great I can't wait for you to get here! I think a lot of people are coming through in 2010. It's a very exciting moment for us and we've been working like busy bees for the past 3 years to build transport systems, new roads, stadiums etc. There's definately a LOT of buzz about the Soccer World Cup.

Anyways.. South Africa is democratic, muli-racial country of approximately 49 million people. It's situated on the Southern most tip of Africa underneath Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia and has about 8 different eco systems.

We have 11 official languages, 9 provinces and 5 major cities. I live in Johannesburg which is the administrative capital of the country. It's right smack bang in the middle of the country in the Gauteng province which is by far the smallest and ironically has the largest population.

As a country we're the biggest economy in Africa, we have the strongest currency (the Rand) and we have several large business focuses including Tourism, Manufacturing, Agriculture etc. In fact, many of the cars you all drive and much of the fruit you eat comes from us!

Other notables include Rhinos, Cape Town, Charlize Theron,Lions, Rugby World Cup Champions, Cheetahs, Leopards, Giraffes, Great White Sharks, Elephants, Nelson Mandela, Biltong, Braais, Pap, Poitjie Kos, Elke en ander talle (other languages, I speak Afrikaans too), Johnny Cleg, , Arnold Vosloo, Melk Tart, All Gold Tomato Sauce, Nando's and the best beaches you've ever seen.

Come visit!

We're awesome.

Question 2:
Congratulations on graduating! (Yes, I do read your blog.) If you could go back four years, would you change anything?

Thank you! It's really nice to know that someone reads what I write considering I've only been blogging for 2 months and I'm kinda lazy.

When I went to university I really had no idea what I wanted to do. I still don't. In hindsight I would have taken a year off after school to travel and get stuck into real life so that I would have had a better idea of what it's all about. I think a stint as a telemarketer or a shop assistant would have done me some good.

I love English and I'm glad I studied it but the problem is that it doesn't really have a lot of practical application. There isn't really a lot of money in writing or copywriting and while money's not everything, it's still nice to have.

One thing I wish I had studied and hope I may still study one day is law. I think I'd make a mean advocate.

Question 3:
I see you love music. Tell me one thing about music that you personally love the most.

I've been playing in some band or another since I was 12. It was always something I loved to do whenever I got the chance and I love spending time crafting and creating songs.

Mostly I love the creative element. I always struggle to get things down on paper and write them out but for me writing a song with my friend is generally effortless and void of all pressure.

I'm also a bit of a show off so I love playing live. More so now than ever.

Oh and I LOVE playing my favorite guitar!

Question 4:
I see you are in love. Tell me one thing about your girl that makes her stand out.

Well she can hardly see for one. Without her glasses she lives in a fuzzy, unfocused world and it's pretty cute.

Ok, I guess I'll have to get sloppy...No matter what happens she's always on the look out for other stuff to do, when she finds something she is able to completely lose herself in the possibilities before she's even started something (she was decorating our flat before we had furniture, or a flat). Even though it can really get to me sometimes I think it's pretty funny and it makes me laugh.

She also cooks like a DEMON, oh my word her food is the best.

Question 5:
Why „Unicorns"?

When I joined Blogger I wasn't really sure of what was going on. I chose the first thing that came to my mind for my username and only discovered later that it was kind of wierd.

I read a whole post on why it's cool to date a unicorn a few weeks ago and it's hilarious.
Read it here, Seriously. It's something you should do.

PS: My username used to be Unicorns

There we go, all done! Thanks Expat for the interview, your blog rocks my working and I think it's awesome that we're in a pretty similar time zone. Read her blog if you know what's good for you!

December Update: I'm back

2008-12-17T01:00:00.001-08:00

I haven't really posted much lately. In the past few weeks I've experienced a lack of creativity and an increase in apathy towards writing, leaving me feeling rather blah and shitty.

But I'm back, or at least I think so. Here's an update:

Things are winding down at work now being December and all. Unfortunately I've only been working here since September and haven't managed to accrue an awful lot of leave in that time. While everybody has been jetting off to Kenya, Australia etc I've been staring blankly at my screen trying to figure out how to navigate around Websense so I can read all of your Blogs. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't but nevertheless I just want to say thanks for keeping me entertained with all of your crazy antics!

One of my first published articles was released nationally last week in a magazine called SL. I've been dreaming of being published in that magazine since I was 14 and now it's happened I don't feel much different. I'm beginning to think that writing for magazines isn't really for me, I like it and all, and it's super cool to walk into any store and see the magazines on the rack but it doesn't give me that buzz...Regardless, I'm doing monthly reviews for them now and the other day I picked up a few free CD's to stamp approval onto. One of which was the new Guns 'n Roses album.

Has anyone heard it? What do you think?

I've been giving a lot of thought lately to starting my own events company. I dabbled this year in organising some pretty big rock festivals and all of them were really successful. More than this I frikken LOVED organising it all. It's so exciting. Rock shows aren't real money makers however and if I'm going to start a business then I need to change the business plan to incorporate something that will. Any ideas?

Yesterday was the lady and me's anniversary. It was also a public holiday which meant we got to spend the whole day together. After her parents, her sister and said sister’s boyfriend came over to see our new flat we did a bit of Christmas shopping (mistake), grabbed a bite to eat and drove home. We swam and tanned at the complex pool, I went to gym and then we sat around wallowing in complete boredom for an hour or so.

Eventually I made the fantastic suggestion to go to the casino down the road and play the cheapest slots we could find with R100 ($10). I managed to lose my half but my enormously lucky heroine girlfriend won us about $20 and we went for a meal at a gourmet burger restaurant on the casinos cash! It might seem silly but it was frikken great. I had the biggest Cheese Burger I'd ever seen and finished it all. The chef was impressed.

Oh, oh and we got a couch! It's an L shape and it's really very comfortable. Watching TV on that old sleeper couch of mine that barely fit one of us, let alone two was getting kind of old....

Please consider me when you reverse

2008-12-08T03:23:00.000-08:00

Some people drive well, some people don't drive so well.

In South Africa we don't really have much of an infrastructure when it comes to public transport, (in part because the distances are quite considerable). It is because of this that most people have a car and drive regularly.

I like to think I'm pretty sweet at steering my one and a half ton silver VW in the right direction. heck, this morning I parallell parked in one smooth, debonairish movement. I felt like James Bond. I am awesome at driving.

When I'm reversing out of a parking spot I usually look where I'm going before putting the car into gear. It seems common knowledge (and sense) to check that there are no vehiculars driving in your general direction before you drive that way. Am I wrong?

Why then, everytime I come back to work from buying Green Tea and an Energy Bar, does every single lebanese grandmother (I work down the road from a lebanese catholic church) have to pull out a little before she looks where she's going? it's kind of frustrating and it scares the shit out of me.

Damn you lebanese grandmothers of the world and your 4x4 utility offroad all terrain vehicles that you've never taken off the tarmac.

The lebanese are pretty of hardass/badcore in these parts, I hope they don't read this.....

I'll be thinking of those unfortunate souls stuck in the northern hemisphere when I'm roasting alive this weekend!

2008-11-28T00:18:00.001-08:00

It took me an hour to drive 10 km's (about 4 miles for American readers) this morning. For some reason traffic this week has been horrendous. I left late last night hoping that it would make a difference, but alas no. Lionel Ritchie was in concert about 4km's from my house and everybody was qued up to get some parking. This might not have been so bad if the loyal Mr Ritchie supporters hadn't mixed themselves into the already frustrating rush hour traffic, but they did and we all suffered.

To make matters worse, my CD player has been on the Frtiz lately. This meant that all I had to listen to was the radio. It's amazing that each of the 6 stations I have saved manage to bore me to tears with mindless repitition and bad DJ's. At least I'm very up to date with current affairs (Thank 702 news for the quarter hour news reports).

Anyhow. I'm stoked today because I'm leaving work at 2 to go to this festival. We'll (all my friendly friends) all be camping out together, drinking to much and taking regular puffs from my awesome Cobra shaped hubly. What's more is that I'll also be playing at this festival on saturday afternoon on the main stage. Hooray, we haven't had a gig in about a month so it should be good. I'm buying some wellington boots and some rugby shorts and I'm going to play in that I think. South African summers are HOT.

I'll also be writing about the festival for Funk Magazine which is going to be wicked!

So it's going to be a great weekend. I hope ya'll have a fantastic one and I'll keep you in mind when I'm in the sweltering summer sun. Enjoy the snow!

Psuedo feminism boils me blood

2008-11-27T00:09:00.000-08:00

Take a look at this crap:

BEYONCE - “IF I WERE A BOY” LYRICS
If I were a boyEven just for a dayI’d roll outta bed in the morningAnd throw on what I wanted then goDrink beer with the guysAnd chase after girlsI’d kick it with who I watedAnd I’d never get confronted for it.Cause they’d stick up for me.

If I were a boyI think I could understandHow it feels to love a girlI swear I’d be a better man.I’d listen to herCause I know how it hurtsWhen you lose the one you wantedCause he’s taken you for grantedAnd everything you had got destroyed

If I were a boyI could turn off my phoneTell evveryone it’s brokenSo they’d think that I was sleepin’ aloneI’d put myself firstAnd make the rules as I goCause I know that she’d be faithfulWaitin’ for me to come home (to come home)

It’s a little too late for you to come backSay its just a mistakeThink I’d forgive you like thatIf you thought I would wait for youYou thought wrong

But you’re just a boyYou don’t understandYeah you don’t understandHow it feels to love a girl somedayYou wish you were a better manYou don’t listen to herYou don’t care how it hurtsUntil you lose the one you wantedCause you’ve taken her for grantedAnd everything you have got destroyedBut you’re just a boy

Um, screw you Beyonce and the 'independant woman' that wrote this song.

If you're so Goddamn awesome then why waste your time bitching about a suposedly typical male role within society? If I had to record a hit song about female stereotypes - ala "My Girlfriend never stops bitching at me, all she wants is my money, I wish she'd grow a personality rather than subscribe to the 'Im just an innocent, viginal and naive cheerleader " then I'd be assaulted by feminine activists and accused of being a chauvenistic,partiarchal asshole.

If we're really as equal as you say we are then how about you stop bitching about the differences that you incessantly highlight. Woman aren't stronger/smarter/quicker than men. We each have our genetic ticks and crosses.

Jesus Christ, I'm tired of reading watered down pro woman articles that list all the reasons why guys are inferior. You've all engineered the roles you hate for yourself, not us.

Good God, please please please just stop fucking whining.

If burning my eyes out with a hot iron and plugging my ears with steel are the only ways for me to escape your pseudo feministic justification of the places you inhabit within society then so be it.

Can you tell I'm angry?

Where are all the dudes?

2008-11-19T03:10:00.000-08:00

Seriously. I love blogs like this times a ton but sometimes I get tired of reading about shoes and bags and gossip girl. Where are all the dudes on here? I'm beginning to feel like my masculinity is melting away, leaving me a dried out husk of a man.

Who's writing about sport and TV's and appliances and building houses with your bare hands. I want some caveman adventures. If anyone reading this blog knows of a dude like this then drop me the link!

Thanks

Moving and Other Interesting Things (To Me)

2008-11-19T02:34:00.000-08:00

Wow..

So after a weeks worth of crazy stress we've finally moved in. On the day that we did I also happened to write my last exam for my degree, so now I've officially finished university as well.

It all happened so quickly. One moment I was a student without a job the next a working man with a flat and everything. It's been quite an adjustment and getting used to the fact that I will probably never 'live' with my parents again is scary, because I love them and they're awesome.

On Monday night Nic and Megan came around and we had some Hubbly on one of our balconies which was really nice. It's such a refreshing feeling to know i'm literally a few km's away from my friends and that I can hang out with them whenever I like. Poker will ensue soon I'm sure.

Being able to get to work in only half an hour has been a winner as well. Getting up at about 7:30 and leaving an hour later is so much more relaxing than having to wake up at 6:30 and rush to make sure I'm in the car to sit in traffic for an hour and a half. I think I'm going to like life closer to work a lot more, effectively I'm getting 2 hours a day back to do whatever I like. Wonder!

My lady has also been super great the last couple of days. Shame, she started work yesterday and she was so tired last night, we both went to bed at around 9. I tried to read but I passed out from being sleepy before I finished a page.

I spent about 3 hours putting together the Godforsaken dresser on Monday night. Turns out that the instructions just assumed that if you had performed the action of putting screw NR322 into hole CR12 then you'd independantly divine to do it the next time around with no explanation. It was definately a project for those that are more mechanically inclined than I am but I got it done.

I really want to get an old record players. My parents have some awesome stuff Vinyl back home like The Police and Queen and i think I'm going to get into it. I've heard that on CD everything is compressed to such an extent that it cuts out all the highs and lows of the music which doesn't give you a real feeling of what the band really sounded like. Being the music geek that I am, the promise of hearing some of my favorite albums in a whole new way is too exciting. I'm trawling Gumtree as we speak for the oldest and raddest LP player around.

The TV saving is also going well. If my estimations are correct I should be able to go out and get me a 32" in about a month, which is awesome! Hooray for that. I'm not sure why guys are so obsessed with everything Audio Visual but we just are. In fact, when we arrived on Monday the first room I sorted out was the TV room. Not the kitchen where you eat, or the bedroom where you sleep, but loft..where the TV and my Hi Fi and the Wii and my CD's and my DVD's and the Satelite connection is.

I'm just glad Lee was out at the time.

I Hate Stupid People

2008-11-14T02:26:00.000-08:00

I hate stupid people. I dislike them almost as much as I like breathing.

I hate the way they blankly stare at me when I've finished a sentence, almost suggesting that it will and should take 3 to 4 minutes to process what I've just said. Seriously, your brain is not an egg boiling in a kettle somewhere, it's supposed to be the high powered processing tool that conquered nature and put us into space. Please don't let your forefathers down by letting slip the basic tenants of language and interpretation.

When I've finished speaking to you, please don't look at me as if I am rambling away in Japanese. I am not from Osaka. I don't harvest rice in the pouring rain whilst sporting a straw hat. All I'm trying to do is convey to you in the most simple terms what I'm trying to say.

When you give me that blank stare that says "I have the mental capacity of a bobble head doll" it makes me want to write on your face with a blowtorch. It makes be want to open the top of your head and shit in it - just for the charity. After all, that would be an improvement right?

I don't like it when you say stupid things. Making the broad and sweeping statement that America is a racist country the day after their first black President is elected is retarded.

As people I'm sure you're very useful and you have your place in society but that doesn't mean you are qualified to voice your opinions. I don't care if you went to university, I don't care if you have a Doctorate in Microbiology. If you opened a third cellphone contract in order to replace the phones stolen from the last (and currently running) two then there is no other way of looking at it. You need smart people to make decisions for you.

Please deliver yourself to the nearest doctor to have yourself sterilised immeditately, lest you procreate and populate the world with your numbskulled and half witted offspring.

Thank you.

Moving Out

2008-11-14T02:20:00.000-08:00

On Monday I'm moving out to my very own flat with my lovely girlfriend. It is in Lonehill.

This flat of mine has one bedroom and two balconies. It is a loft.

We have been buying furniture.

Our L couch arrives in Mid December.

In order not to be evicted I have to pay 'Rent'. This 'Rent' comes from my now stable 'Income' which has arisen as a result of my 'Job' as a copywriter.

This has all made me grow up rather quickly I'm afraid, and I feel kind of old.

One big plus is that I got a Mastercard, which meant I can buy stuff online. My Wes Anderson Box Set arrives in a few days.

Anyone want to give me a TV?

Little Annoyances

2008-10-16T03:44:00.000-07:00

Deareverybody:

There are a lot of things that annoy me, I think I'd make a great candidate for the premature special of 'Grumpy Old Men', may be I would even make the best candidate.

In fact I think even I could teach Bob Geldoff or Jeremy Clarkson a thing or three about finding everything around them pretty contemptible.

1) Myself Three Years Ago:

Seriously? What was I thinking?

I was blessed with an atypical gloomy teenage outlook which was further exasperated by my emo fringe and black clothes. I was selfish, stupid, irresponsible, poor, studenty, annoying and had a disturbing pre occupation with facial hair.

What scares me more is that I'm only starting to realise it now. What will I think of me in ten years time? Will I look back to find memories of a charming, debonair, thoughtful, driven all round good guy? I hope so. No I believe so. Which probably means I'm wrong. Right?

2) Motorbyclists

Given that I've taken crawling in the traffic on a day to day basis, I tend to notice those yellow shirted men a lot more. Oh how they make me want to kill babies when I move over and they don't thank me, next time I'm just going to open my door on them. I swear I will.

Sometimes, when I'm having a pleasant 702 listening session dedicated to the antics of the stock market, a man in a Harley will drive/ride past my silver car. Predictably I will have the window open and predictably the noise of its bastard child tractor engine with hosepipe attached will blow me away so severely that I will no longer be able to hear Mosioua Lekota explaining to the listeners why he left the ANC. This makes me sad, because reaching that space of relaxed relaxation during peak hour traffic is not easy and the onslaught of noise that is such as Satan Machine forces me to restart my 'traffic meditation process', and because I like Mosioua Lekota.

3) Philosophy
It's not philosophy as a subject that I have anything against. No. It's given me words like 'empirical' and 'hegemonic' to use in everyday conversation. This seems to impress people to which I generally have nothing to say and that's just wonderful.

No, it's not philosophy that's the problem. It's the philosophers.

To be a philosopher, as a rule, it seems as though you have to conjugate word groupings in such a way that even an English graduate (almost me) doesn't understand what's going on. These men and women are not purveyors of insight but rather word trapeze artists.

They make my brain ache so hard with upsettness and that makes me sad.

No, I don't know what I'm doing.

2008-09-23T01:37:00.000-07:00

What is a blog?

I have no idea, I've never had one.

I'm not really sure about what I have to say or write. I guess I should make intelligent comment, include sardonic wit from time to time and maintain an all-round atmosphere of sarcasm?

Wikipedia told me this:
"A blog (a contraction of the term "Web log") is a Web site, usually maintained by an individual [1], with regular entries of commentary, descriptions of events, or other material such as graphics or video. Entries are commonly displayed in reverse-chronological order. "Blog" can also be used as a verb, meaning to maintain or add content to a blog."

I think I will use 'blog' as a verb, thank you very much. I'll also try my best to personally maintain the site with regular entries on whatever I feel should be bespoken (I put that in there just to piss you off) about.

I also like Unicorns, Uniclops and Cycorns.

Anyway. This is me, my blog. I'll probably be writing a lot on music and what not, but for now this is who your dealing with.