So Klap Gym Boet! went into the latest FHM which now means there’s an FHM lying around our flat which I can honestly say is the first one that’s done that in about 5 years.
Naturally I find myself gravitating towards it from time to time, mostly when I’m supposed to be doing things that actually require brainpower such as writing a blog post or boiling the kettle.
Instead I veg out on the couch and flip through the pages, marvelling at how large woman’s breasts seem to have become and thanking my lucky stars that I’m a guy and don’t have to compete with those ridiculously over-airbrushed, over-sexed and under-dressed brainless sirens.
I love the ‘what qualities do you look for in a man?’ question because they always say the same fucking thing.
“Confidence and a great sense of humour are sexy. He must also not be afraid to show his sensitive side. And he must be honest. And he must have a nice six-pack. Hahahaha!”
It’s all the same shit over and over and over again!
South African models are the worst. For the most part they are so fucking boring I’d rather push a fork through my eyeball than read an interview with them.
Take this month’s cover girl Genevieve Morton for example, who answered the following questions in the following ways:
- What do you find attractive in a man? Confidence and a sense of humour
- What do you do on your days off in New York? Browse the fresh food market with hot, non-alcoholic apple cider
- You must have had some cool jobs since we last worked together? I spend a lot of time in Dallas working for a department store
- Do you enjoy jogging in Central Park wearing insanely tight spandex? I got totally lost one day, so haven’t spent too much time there
- It’s a tough country to stay in shape in, how do you resist Dunkin’ Doughnuts? Actually, when I travel I never eat the nice, tasty foods… because I am scared that I will like it too much and then not to be able to stop myself
- What exciting career projects are you looking forward to? Finishing my degree
And so on and so on and so on and so on.
I’m probably not the best person to gauge these things by, but seriously, what a boring interview!
The American girls interviewed at least had some pizazz, but I’m sorry, our local girls are a buncha limp noodles. They wouldn’t know a party if it crawled up their leg and blew a bong hit their doe-eyed little faces.
That Powerbalance launch I went to when I met Roxy Louw is a great example. We went to the bar after the interview and I ordered her a tequila. No, tequila was too hectic, she’d had a bad experience (hahaha! Like anyone drinks tequila and has a good experience). So I ordered her a Jagy, no she didn’t want a Jagy either. An Apple Sour? No, not that either.
She ended up doing a shot of red wine. Then her boyfriend arrived, gave her a disapproving look and marched her off to sit in a corner with him for the rest of the night.
You gotta love models because magazines and TVs and a bazillion other forms of mass media bludgeon us with their half naked bodies and perfectly sculpted faces all the time and we sit there like cartoon wolves, tongues lolling from our heads and hearts beating through our chests and then you actually get to meet them and you know what?
The baglady down the street is more interesting.