Archive for the 'Being Slick' Category

07
Jun
11

Steri Stumpie And Slicky-T, BFFs For Life

It’s hard not to love Steri Stumpie because it’s a brand that, without even trying, has organically grown a considerable cult following.

 

 

To my knowledge, the Flavour Nation ads that were recently on radio were the first radio ads Steri has run in about 20 years and I’m pretty sure they’ve done nothing on TV, and yet the brand has a cult following of fans that are so dedicated that they actively feed the Facebook page and blog site with user-generated content that they make for no reason other than to show their unwavering love of this kooky South African brand.

The Brothers Streep went so far as to not only write a Steri Stumpie song, but shoot an entire video and contrary to popular belief, they weren’t paid by Steri to do this, they just really, really like Steri Stumpie.

 

Steri has been on our shelves since 1976, how crazy is that?! It’s as South African as biltong and babotie and is not only available in enough flavours to appease even the most discerning of flavoured milk connoisseurs, but it’s also one of the best hangover cure’s money can buy (or so I’m told…).

So I was super stoked when the Steri fairy dropped by today and hooked me up with the SICKEST hoodie you’ve ever seen. They said they’d read my stray cat recipe post and felt so bad for me they immediately despatched their Steri-raptors to help a brother out during the cold winter months.

 

 

 

That’s the other thing I love about this brand, they’re great at targeting influencers and adorers with radass Steri drop packs that have a whole bunch of Steri merch you can’t buy in stores so you can show it off to your friends and be all like “ne-ner-ne-ner-neee-neeerrrr” I’m special and you’re not.

I also love Steri because I once drove past one of their delivery vans and on the side it said “Hoot if you’re a fan” so I let out a playful toot on my horn and the Steri van replied with a hilarious little counter-toot that had J-Rab and I in hysterics for a solid 10 minutes.

 

 

Thanks for the hoodie and the good times Steri! You guys get the Tiger stamp of approval Winking smile

-ST

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30
May
11

The Tiger’s Top 5 Music Cardinal Sins

Let me kick this one off by admitting that yes, I’m a music snob. I’ve been one since I was about 11 or 12 years old and the older I get the worse it becomes. I am fully aware and comfortable with that fact, it’s never going to change because I’m never going to try and change it and here’s why.

I judge people openly when it comes to music because it’s such a powerful force in my life that it’s like a fucking religion to me. Forget heaven or hell or Jesus or Krishna or Brahman or Satan or God or Santa and the Tooth Fairy. They may or may not exist and I couldn’t really care one way or the other because in music I’ve found a higher power that accepts me for who I am whether I’m wretched and seeped in sin or rolling holy and righteous without a goddamn care in the world.

 

 

To say it puzzles me when I meet people that are completely indifferent to music would be a gigantic understatement. I’ll never say it openly because I learned back when I was a kid that no one likes having someone else’s opinion rammed up their butt, but when I meet people that say or do one of the following things my estimation of them immediately plummets to the same level I reserve for people who’s biological parents are blood relatives.

 

THING NO.1 – We’ve just met, I ask you what music you’re into and you shrug and reply, “Oh, I dunno, anything really…”

It baffles me how many people say this, especially girls. There are a number of reasons people say this about music, namely:

  • They don’t want to say something you might think sounds stupid so they’re going to sit on the fence on this one and hope for the best. Get off the fence. Admit to your love of Norwegian Folk Metal, fly that flag brother! I’d rather hear ANYTHING than the sentence in bold underlining above.
  • They’re drawing a total blank. This happens, just breathe and try to calm down a little, I’m not going to bite your head off if you say you’re into someone I think is shit. You can listen to whatever the hell you want… except Nickleback.
  • They honestly don’t give a rat’s ass what’s playing. They will listen to commercial radio stations like 5FM every day of their lives from the minute they wake up until the minute they arrive back home after work and not even notice when the same song gets repeated 6 times in as many hours. I mean fuck’s sake! I don’t even listen to the songs I like six times a day because by day two I’d be bored to tears of it. These people cannot be saved. Their favourite movie of all time is Mr Bones. Just… give up.

 

THING NO.2 – People who describe music that is even slightly down-tempo or sad as “slit-your-wrists music”

I can’t tell you how much this infuriates me. People who expect music to have the same effect as Prozac are, nine times out of ten, terminally boring human beings.

A perfect example of this actually happened to me recently when I was copying some music over to a friend’s laptop who is totally clueless about music (some gems while I was copying the stuff over were “Foo Fighters? What do they sing?” and “Oh Green Day, I like them! Can you give me the first album, the one with American Idiot on it…”).

Her friend, the music expert, was sitting with us, advising her what to copy and what not to copy when we came across Ben Harper.

“Ben Harper?” she said, “Who’s he?”

“He’s a bit like Jack Johnson,” I replied, “they actually tour together quite a lot.”

“Yeah, but it’s real ‘slit-your-wrists music’”, the expert chirped in.

“It is, but unfortunately all my ‘High School Musical’ stuff is on my other drive, sorry,” I replied in my head.

 

 

Walk away son, walk away.

THING NO.3 – People who pull you aside to play you a song that sounds like utter crap and then ask you what you think about it

Bonus points if they give you their greasy earplugs to put in your ear and double bonus points if they know what you’re into and are deliberately playing you something they know you’ll hate in some misguided effort to try and reprogram your musical taste.

For these people, music is an argument that they must win at all costs. If you do not like the music they do, they will make you like it or they will die trying.

Despite what you might think, while I am a music snob, I am not one of these people. You listen to whatever the hell you want to listen to, I’m totally fine with that. Just don’t make me listen to it, respect the fact that our tastes are different and let’s both just carry on with our lives shall we?

THING NO.4 – People who only buy “Best Of” or compilation albums

Why the fucking fuck would you ever want to buy a compilation album, ever? So you can hear the same old songs that artist has had playing on the radio for the last God-knows-how-many years all over again?

Here’s a crazy question: What if you actually stepped WAY out on a limb and bought the album that one or two of those songs appeared on? And here’s another wild thought: What if you found that your favourite track wasn’t actually one of the ones that gets played on the radio all the time?

Why, that song would become “your” song in a way that the one that everyone knows and loves never could. It would have a special meaning to you and who knows? Maybe one day you’ll meet someone else who also fucking loves that song and you’ll instantly share a connection that is actually meaningful.

You know what my favourite Beatles song is? I’ll give you a clue, it’s not “Hey Jude”, it’s not “Yellow Submarine” and it’s sure as shit not “Yesterday”.

It’s “Rocky Raccoon” because it’s a story about a guy who’s lady runs off with a total jerk so he goes to kill the guy and ends up getting shot by the dude instead. Then this drunk doctor fixes him up and he just kinda carries on with his life.

 

 

Poetry I tells ya! Winking smile

THING NO.5 – Playlist Trolls

They lurk in corners at parties and wait until no one’s looking so they can hijack the playlist and make it their bitch.

They won’t relinquish power, take requests or play anything that has any merit whatsoever.

Expect Vanilla Ice. Expect Abba. Expect “Bohemian Rhapsody” at full volume. Expect Mr fucking Jones. Expect Rod Stewart. And just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, expect “Barbie Girl” or fucking Whigfield being blasted at you until your skull implodes.

What’s worse is they’ll play the same kak song three times, occasionally back-to-back just so you can get an intimate insight into what their hellishly mediocre lives must be like.

If you’re a person who is guilty of any of the sins listed above, there is good news. I’m offering free lobotomies all week to help you overcome these terrible afflictions, just hit me on tellthetiger@gmail.com and Uncle Slick will make everything better or your money back! Winking smile

-ST

27
May
11

Baby Shrapnel Gets The Tiger Stamp Of Approval

As a prolific South African blogger, I’m pretty much swamped on a daily basis with emails from my readers, most of which feature pics of charnas (or belters) who are MASSIVE & RIPPED because, you know, I wrote the whole ‘Klap Gym’ thing and that’s pretty much all I’m known for.

“SlickTiger? You mean the oke who wrote Klap Gym Boet? Fuck I LOVE that oke’s blog!”

“Really? You don’t say. So what’s your favourite post?”

“Klap Gym Boet!”

“Huh. And your second favourite?”

“Ektually, that’s all I’ve read hey?”

That’s all he’s read. That, the TV Guide and the fucking menu at Spur are what he considers ‘high quality literature’. Klap it boet.

 

 

So I get this email from a dude who calls himself “Josh” the other day with a YouTube link to the first episode of an animated show his mates put together called Baby Shrapnel.

So, having nothing better to do, I watched the first episode and actually found myself sniggering at some of the jokes which provoked me to dig a little deeper and man-o-man did I find some awesome, fucked up shit.

There’s an ENTIRE SEASON of this, ten episodes, and it’s basically the crappest show I’ve ever seen, but fuck me it’s funny.

The overriding impression I get from the show is that creators Hugh Upsher and Graeme Barnes couldn’t really care less if anyone actually likes / relates to / watches the show and the result is a collection of some of the most random content I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching.

 

 

Most of the show is a badly animated dude sitting on a couch with a sock puppet on his hand making random observations about everything from car guards to hipster beards to plasters for black people, sandwiched between hilarious rip offs of the ads we love to hate and badly animated skits that are flush with toilet humour (yes, that just happened) and more atrocious animation.

Here’s episode 9 to give you an idea of what the show’s like. I’d highly recommend checking out more here if you like it.

 

 

Have a killer weekend party people. I’ll catch you crazy kids on Monday Winking smile

-ST

13
May
11

Mindgun – One Seriously Badass Site

The saying goes that you’ll never meet your future wife in a bar and I think there’s a lot of truth in that, but man-o-man, if I had to write a list of all the twisted, crazy fuckers who’ve ended up being great friends that I met in bars, it would be a goddamn mile long!

Mr D was one of those fine, upstanding maniacs (read this story as proof). I met him on a night when I was playing a gig in Grahamstown. He was knocking back a pint of stout and eyeing the bar like at any minute he might pull a knife out and lay into someone for making eye contact, so naturally I walked over and started up a conversation with the man.

 

 

We struck up a friendship that I regard as a personal best based on the acres of common ground we shared through the bands we listened to, the questionable literature (mainly comic books) and movies we were into and our common appreciation of the whisky-drinking, hard-living, party-loving legacy artists like Jim Morrison left as an example for us mere mortals to live up to.

And man-o-man, did Mr D and I live it up. We eventually worked as barmen at the same dodgy-assed pizza joint where our only mission from one shift to the next was to see just how drunk we could get without passing out / getting fired.

Those were the old days, the bad days, the all or nothing days. It was blood for blood by the gallon and we were ready for war Winking smile

Over the years we went our separate ways. Mr D now teaches English in Korea, but recently we’ve been able to stay in contact thanks to the blog site he started, Mindgun.

The man is a killer photographer and actually worked as a staff photographer for The Argus (among other papers) in Cape Town before he left for Korea.

His mission with Mindgun is to take a picture everyday and write a couple sentences / paragraphs about it so his photographic muscle doesn’t atrophy while he’s over there.

I’ve thrown in a couple of my favourites below and as you can see, he’s no slouch behind a lens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’s a great writer and an even better shooter so his site gets my full recommendation as an awesome place to stop by when you have a minute. It’s also pretty fascinating to read about Korea and his experience of it from the cuisine (pig spine soup and dog penis fish) to its culture and history and Mr D is right in the thick of it, guns blazing, writing about what he sees in the only way he knows how – with 100% unashamed honesty.

So be a pal and bookmark the man’s site, you’ll be a better person for it.

Otherwise have yourselves a killer weekend party people, I’ll see you all same time, same place on Monday.

Until then Winking smile

-ST

12
May
11

Album Launch: Taxi Violence – Long Way From Home

Awhile back I bitched and moaned about how South African bands are a bunch of limp dick unclefuckers who need to man the fuck up and play some dirty, sexy rock music already.

Well, I’m happy to say I can add one band to the list of SA bands I actually like and that band is Taxi Violence.

I saw them live at Mercury a month or two back when they did a seriously killer cover of “Riders On The Storm” with We Set Sail. I was well impressed not only with the cover, but also Taxi Violence themselves who, much like Queens Of The Stone Age, have breathed life back into old school 60s / 70s rock and made it unapologetically badass.

 

 

Then, about two weeks back, I ran into George (frontman and vocalist) at Mercury and did this thing I do when I’m drunk when I shoot the breeze with people in bands like I’m catching up with an old highschool buddy.

It’s a test because some people in bands think they’re God’s fucking gift to the planet so I talk to them like they’re normal humans and they either act like I’m a weirdo and run away or they shoot the breeze back and we end up having epic discussions about music and the South African scene.

George definitely proved to be a stand up guy and even invited me to check out the launch of their acoustic album Long Way From Home.

So J-Rab and I headed on down to the Plane-arium for an intimate showcase of what the Taxi lads have been up to and I was pretty blown away.

 

 

Old favourites like “The Mess”, “Devil ‘n Pistol” and “The Turn” sound like they’ve been taken apart and rebuilt from scratch, a refreshing change from most bands who just swap electric guitars for acoustic ones and serve up warmed up leftovers thinly disguised as an album actually worth listening to.

Their acoustic rendition of “Heads and Tails” is particularly noteworthy both on the album and when they played it live. It was pretty hilarious us all reclining on our seats in the Plane-arium with the stars wizzing overhead because whenever Taxi got the crowd bopping your seatback would start moving in time to the music as other people sitting in the same row literally “rocked” out. “Heads And Tails” produced that effect immediately.

They’ve also shot a new video for the song, which they opened their set with which sadly they haven’t uploaded to their YouTube channel yet, but look out for it when they do, it’s a very cool take on the Groundhog Day premise and, in keeping with the song, asks the question if you knew the dice were rigged, how would you play the game?

 

 

One of my songs they played was their new track “Long Way From Home”, about a country boy hitting the big city, a dreamer who “Followed the buzz until he hit the hive”. It’s got an upbeat, bluesy / rock flavour played with bright, jangling guitars and tambourines that reminded me of some of the earlier Supergrass albums.

I’d highly recommend checking out Taxi’s FB page for their upcoming gigs so you can get a chance to hear their acoustic set and, if you’re lucky enough, getting a picture with the square-headed mascott that adorns the new album cover.

 

 

So big up to George for the invite and the guys from Taxi Violence for a killer gig and for hooking me up with a copy of the new album. It doesn’t look like it in the picture below, but I was really stoked to get the actual, physical album. I think that’s the first CD I’ve been given in about 5 years.

 

 

-ST

10
May
11

Free Comic Book Day Hell’s Yeah!

Me and comic books go way back.

When I was about six years old, I went to stay with my crazy aunt and uncle for a few weeks while my folks were on holiday and basically had the time of my life.

 

 

Every day my uncle would arrive home with a bag of Tomato Sauce chips and two comic books tucked under his arm for me.

I still remember lying on the floor in the lounge of that mad, mushroom-shaped house, happily munching on the chips while my grubby red-stained fingers turned the pages hungrily.

Some of the comics he bought me were legit titles like Superman and Spiderman, but mostly they were a melting pot of a whole lot of weird shit that other countries probably weren’t buying so SA got them shipped in at super-low wholesale rates to stack news vendor shelves and warp fragile little minds like mine.

 

 

After that I didn’t really get back into them until my first year in high school when a buddy at the time who was completely obsessed filled me in on the entire X-Men saga that was going on at the time (Age Of Apocalypse, look it up, it was badass) and got me interested in the myriad of stories that comprise the Marvel universe.

His prize comic was the first Wolverine comic, published back in ‘89. Of course, Wolverine had featured in tons of X-Men comics before that, but ‘89 was the first time he was given his own title.

 

 

I always wanted to read that comic, but even taking it out of its cardboard-backed plastic sheath would have caused my buddy instant heart failure so I just admired the cover from a distance, feigning excitement when all I really felt was seething hatred for the spoilt little prick.

I eventually did get to read the entire Age Of Apocalypse series though when I was in hospital after an altercation with some asphalt that nearly left me dead, but that’s a story for another time Winking smile

During varsity I became friends with Graumpot, one of the biggest comic book freaks I’ve ever had the pleasure of living with.

Through him I read a buttload of comics – the entire Preacher series, the entire Invisibles series, most of Sandman, most of the Lucifer series, Wolverine: Origins and Wolverine: Ends, a whole bunch of Batman and one of my favourite Marvel comics of all time, Marvel Zombies (you HAVE to read it, it’s brilliant).

 

 

See, with comics I discovered one of life’s undeniable truths, that if there’s one thing better than a great novel, it’s a great novel with pictures.

So on Saturday I went through to Reader’s Den (across the street from Cavendish) for Free Comic Book Day, an international event that takes place on the first weekend in May where all comic book stores the world over hand out free comic books to whoever wants them.

J-Rab was working so I figured I’d kill some time and head on down to take pictures of the freaks, grab a free comic book or two and head home.

 

 

Then I made the mistake of browsing through the literally hundreds of graphic novels they were selling and what did I find? Volume 1 of a Wolverine graphic novel that included that first Wolverine comic I’d so coveted back when I was a zit-faced little shit kicker and even better than that, it was going for fifty bucks!

Right after that I found Volume 3, also going for fifty bucks! Then I made the rookie error of asking one of the guys working behind the tables scattered with graphic novels if he’d seen Volume 2 anywhere.

Within 5 minutes he’d told all his buddies helping him to look for it and next thing I knew they started off-loading Wolverine graphic novels on me like dump trucks at a landfill.

 

 

Two hundred and eighty bucks and an hour later I found myself shuffling back to my car with no less than five Wolverine graphic novels wandering what the fuck just happened.

But seriously, five graphic novels for R280 is pretty goddamn cheap. Normally it would have cost me R870 (no shit, the comics had the normal prices crossed out in red on all their covers with the new prices written underneath) which means normally I wouldn’t have bought fucking one, which means I still wasted R280.

Still though, I started reading them right after I got home and they’re pretty cool, very old school, but still badass.

And just in case I haven’t scared all my female readers off this site for life, look what else I found guys, the FIRST EVER comic book that ever featured Wolverine and it wasn’t even an X-Men comic, it was a fucking HULK comic!

 

 

I think we’ve all learned an important lesson here kids. When the next Free Comic Book Day rolls around take my advice and get there early with fistfuls of cash at the ready, wahoo!

-ST

04
May
11

Tiger Back In Action!

Hey Party People!

It’s been fucking ages, how the hell are all ya crazy basterds?

I hope you all had a killer Easter and took the three days that magically turned into 11 like I did. Yesterday was actually my first day back in the orifice, but to be honest, I was too depressed to blog so I just kinda moped around feeling sorry for myself and slouched at my desk surfing porn.

It was an epic holiday though, we went up the East Coast, checked out the Knysna Elephants, stopped at Storm’s River, stopped at PE and headed on through to Grahamstown which was a total mindfuck in itself.

 

 

In GTown I stopped by my old digs, which we affectionately used to call The Zombie Mansion, and man-o-man it hasn’t changed one bit.

 

 

We had so many good times in that house, it was awesome to see it still standing and judging from the sarongs that were being used as curtains in some rooms, I’d say it’s definitely still a student digs.

It’s the biggest house I’ve ever lived in and rent was R1080 a month, how crazy is that?! We threw parties in that house that were so epic I still get random flashbacks from them that make me hide under my desk mumbling incoherently for up to 9 hours at a time.

I’m glad I got this pic though because sometime while we were living in this house, this camera randomly appeared one day and nobody could figure out who it belonged to, so I used the film remaining in it to take a whole lot of pictures of the house before I left GTown at the end of varsity.

I kept the camera for another year before I decided to finally develop the film and I was well stoked to find out a) what else was on the film strip and b) see pics of my old digs.

And so with great trepidation I drove to the nearest Kodak shop and handed the camera over to the guy behind the counter.

“Develop this shit my good man,” I said to him, “but just know this: I only took the pictures at the END of the filmstrip, the others were in the camera when I found it, so if there’s any weird shit on there, I swear it’s not mine!”

“Ok,” he said and opened the camera. “It’s empty.”

“It’s whaaaaaaaaaaaaattt?!” I replied, incredulously.

“Empty. No film inside it.”

“But it said 22 pictures! What the hell man, it wound on and everything!”

“Mechanical error probably. Sorry.”

 

 

So I’m stoked I got something to remember the Zombie Mansion by, even if it was taken years after we’d already left.

Oh, and for anyone reading this who knows me in real life, how fucked up is this. The day we left Grahamstown to come back to CT was the exact same day nine years ago that I bailed off the side of the Great Hall!

In fact, at the exact same time we were on the road heading to PE, I would have been taking that same drive nine years ago, except I was all smashed up in the back of an ambulance.

I’m like the six million dollar man Winking smile

 

 

J-Rab has some more pics of the crazy shit we got up to on holiday, I’ll try get them off her tomorrow. In the meantime I’d better get back to the grind.

Another day another dollar right? Bleaugh.

-ST




A Word From The Kind Folks At Nokia

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