Archive for the 'Killer Posts' Category


SA Needs Edgier Bands

Every time I get into a debate about South African music I always feel like a total jerk because I don’t really follow the local scene that closely so I’m pretty goddamn ignorant, truth be told.



Still though, local bands don’t really blow my hair back and I say that with the utmost respect to the bands playing in SA because I know it’s fucking hard work and they constantly have to deal with all kinds of rejection, frustration and apathy from audiences who would rather be listening to Lady Gaga blasted over the speakers in some douche-ridden piss hole with a buncha assholes in collared shirts and slut-bags in tiny skirts with and too much self-tan.

But still, I feel it’s time we upped our game. We need edgier bands. Say what you will about Die Antwoord, but they have one thing in their favour that cannot be faulted – a lot of guts.



They went out there guns blazin’ and shook things up a little. They shocked people, they took people out of their comfort zones, they were rough, siff and ready and the world snatched them up in a heartbeat.

As a country, I think it’s fucking heartbreaking how much talent we have that goes to waste because we’re good enough to get so far, but no further.

It’s like there’s this invisible barrier of FAIL that our artists and musicians and writers hit and then they do one of two things, either go totally mainstream and sell out in every conceivable way in an effort to try and stay on top, or they just die outright.



Like I said, we need to push the boundaries more, we need to not be so goddamn afraid to do some crazy shit, although I’m a great one to speak.

There was a time when I played my guitar more than I didn’t, when music flowed through me like water through a rusty faucet and came out the other side dirty and beautiful and flecked with pieces of myself infused with something pure as glacial ice.

But that guy, he gave up before he got anywhere. He gigs in his bedroom sometimes. Back in ‘08 he played the Lounge Arena for an audience of one cat. What a fucking chump.



If anything I guess I’m writing this to tell all those crazy kids out there to stop fucking around and to get more crazy. Don’t do what Tiger-Don’t did and just fucking wimp out. Steel yourselves and get out there and fuck some shit up!

So here’s the dealy-o, I’ll play you crazy basterds a song that is rocking my fucking world right now and if anyone out there knows a band currently playing is SA that sounds in any way similar to this, fucking let it be known brothers and sisters!

Turn me onto that crazy shit and I’ll get behind those fuckers and do what I can in my own Tiger way to support a scene that really needs it.

Here’s The Kills with “Future Starts Slow” off their new album, which drops this week called Blood Pressures.



Can I get a fuck yeah?!

Fuck yeah.



Do NOT Fuck With The Melissa Riso Police!

If the definition of insanity is hitting your head repeatedly against a wall and expecting a different result every time then I must be one of the craziest fuckers I know, or the dumbest, I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…



Loyal readers of this junkyard site might recall a post I put up last year that featured the gorgeous model and sometimes porn star Melissa Riso, you can read the original here.

Well, a couple months after I posted that, I got banned from posting on my own site by WordPress because they had been issued a nasty letter from the Melissa Riso Police (henceforth referred to as the MRP) accusing me of copyright infringement.

WordPress very kindly removed the image of her I had used and restored my rights to post on the site three days later, the fascist assholes.

So naturally, once my rights to post on my own goddamn site had been restored, the first thing I did was put up another picture of Melissa Riso as a kind of misguided ‘fuck you’ to the MPR.



Read all about that here.

In a career of posting things I probably shouldn’t, that single move really stands out as by far the most retarded thing I’ve ever done.

Why the fuck I did that, I have no idea, but holy shot I really wish I hadn’t.

Her lawyers didn’t bother going to WordPress this time around, they went directly to me.

I’m being sued for $65 000.

I don’t know whether to cry or laugh. The letter was emailed through this morning, so there’s always the chance that it’s some kind of very fucked up, twisted April fool’s joke (please dear god) but I forwarded it immediately to my uncle who’s a legal advisor and he says from what he can tell, it’s 100% legit.

My uncle says there’s a chance if we plead guilty to the charges they’re laying against me (basically copyright infringement, using her image without the express permission of her or her agency, engaging in “malicious slander” against her, etc.) they might reduce the amount they’re suing me for, but it would probably also mean taking this site down to placate the fucking fuckers.

I probably shouldn’t even be writing this, but at this stage who the fuck cares? What could they possibly do to me that’s worse than being sued for what works out to be R439,222.68?



Where the fuck am I even going to find that kind of money?! I mean seriously?! What a load of total fucking bullshit!

If anyone knows any shit hot entertainment lawyers that can help a nigga out, I could seriously use one right about now. This whole thing just seems really unnecessary and nasty. I know I can be an asshole at times, but c’mon! I’m being sued for nearly half a fucking million rand! Nobody deserves that!

Anyway. Have a great weekend. If anyone needs me I’ll be at the bar, putting a sizeable dent in a bottle of whatever whisky I can get my hands on.

The End.





…ps April Fools 😉


Rebecca Black Is Everything That Is Wrong With The World

Men don’t rule the world. We haven’t for awhile now. Sometime during the 80s we began to relinquish control to women as they marched into high-powered, high-paying executive jobs with their colossal perms and shoulder pads that would make even Lord Zoltron shit his pants in mortal fear.



However, fast forward thirty years and another species has taken over completely, a species that controls the purse strings of most families whether they realise it or not. Teenage girls.

Teenage girls have taken over the world. And the result of this take over is a flood of media about superficial, surface-level bullshit that means nothing in the greater scheme, but is an incredibly efficient way to move a whole lot of consumer products that no one really needs.

And so we get to the subject of today’s post, Rebecca Black, whose new single “It’s Friday” is very possibly the worst fucking song and music video I’ve ever seen in my life.

I refuse to post the video here because it’s hard enough to get the fucking song out of my head as it is, but mosey on over to Mr Nashes site to watch the most cringe worthy performance you’re ever likely to see for as long as you live.

I hate this song and music video for a number of reasons:

1. She can’t fucking sing
2. She can’t fucking dance either
3. This song has been stuck in my head for THREE DAYS NOW, AAARARRARARARARARRAAGGHGHGHGH!
4. She has put no effort into the lyrics whatsoever, as the graph below perfectly illustrates:



5. Did I mention how catchy this trite pile of turd is?! AARARRGARGAHRAGRHGARH!

And apparently I’m not the only person that feels this way. Check out this awesome parody of this mind-numbingly crap song.



Thank you internet. I can always rely on you to fight back against the vacuous garbage the mainstream media spews out there.

And with that, I’d better get the fuck back to my day job because it’s Tuesday. Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday. And tomorrow is Wednesday and after that is –




Okes Who Like To KLAP IT #1

There’s nothing flippin’ more lekker than getting together with a bunch of okes who are MASSIVE AND RIPPED and MOERING other okes stukkend! When a oke can do this with his chommies he feels a POWERFUL sense of comrahderie because he’s one of the MANNE and no other oke can mess with him!

On Saturday I watched the tightest group of chommies I’ve seen in flippin’ AGES run up and down a field and MOER the flippin’ SHIT out of these other okes who weren’t that tight and probably could have used another 4 sessions a week in the gym, KLAPPING IT, instead of sitting around on their arses being flippin’ USELESS.



The group of chommies I’m talking about here call themselves WOLFPACK RFC and jislaaik, these guys are a buncha TUFF OUS! Saturday was their first rukby game against some moffie team who I forgot the name of and charnas, all I can say is the moffie ous lost something like 40 – 11 and it was embarrassing how kak they were.



But the thing that showed me that these okes were TIGHT, as TIGHT as okes can be was after the game they had a lekker huddle and howled like real life WOLFS and then KLAPPED PUSHUPS BOET! Lekker FAST AND HARD right there on the field!

Then after the pushups the okes jumped into an INFLATIBLE POOL and had a lekker jol together hugging each other and showing their flippin MASSIVE AND RIPPED muscles to the belters that were running around, unable to control themselves cause the okes were MONSTERS!



After that many, many cold beers were klapped and tales told of the EPIC game that was WOLFPACK RFC’s first ever rukby match and all I can say okes is well flippin’ done guys, at this rate you will KILL pretty much any team that is flippin’ dumb enough to think they can TOUCH YOU.

Keep on klapping!



The Simple Things

Today we stop everything we’re doing and take a minute to reflect on the inherent joy in the simple things.

We went to the beach a few weekends back and I took the following picture of a tree:



This picture perfectly sums up what I’m talking about. The tiny wooden bridge, the thick green grass, the white sand, you can almost feel it between your toes, these simple things are important. They have a way of lifting your spirits when life gets shitty – losing sight of these simple pleasures is a one way ticket to misery and brother, you don’t want to take that ride.

Children understand this without having to be told. They can spend hours picking up and scrutinising shells on a beach or getting totally lost in the simple act of making mud pies but as we get older bigger, badder things come our way and it’s easy to get lost in the fight.

Take pleasure in a simple act today. Run a bath, eat some ice cream, go for a swim, listen to Frank Sinatra, go for a walk, climb a tree. We give a lot of time away without realising that it’s really all we have and it’s running out fast. So take some back today, it’s good for the soul.

In other news J-Rab has a job interview today at a vet that would be perfect for her. She’s nervous for the interview, we’ve got a lot riding on this so guys, spare a thought for her today, cross fingers, cross toes, send good vibes and maybe that simple act will change our lives Winking smile

Here’s hopin’.



A Post For Salome

I always felt bad because when Stikey and I, at the tender age of about 15, decided to run away from home, we passed Salome in the street and lied to her about where we were going.

She could see that something was up. Two adolescent shit-kickers dragging a colossal tog bag up the road randomly in the middle of the afternoon. Not normal.

She asked us where we were going and I told her I was spending the night at Stikey’s place and not to worry about us and yes, our parents knew about it.

Then we high-tailed it up the street, jumped in a black taxi and drove to a Formula One hotel where we spent the night getting as wasted as humanly possible and freaking out completely that our parents were going to disown us.

We were asshole kids and we did a lot of asshole things, but lying to Salome like that, it never sat well with me.

I don’t remember if I ever apologised to her for that. To this day I still don’t know if my parents asked her if she’d seen me that afternoon and what she said.

I’m not sure it matters anymore. Salome died yesterday afternoon.

Let it be known, for as long as this junkyard site stands, that Salome was a  good person, that she went to church every Sunday and said her prayers, that she was a gentle soul and that she deserved to live longer and see her grandkids grow up big and strong.

Salome was young, younger than my mom is now when she died, too young.

She used to give the softest hugs.

I think that’s what I’ll remember about her the most. She gave the softest hugs and she had a great laugh that could always make you laugh.

And holy shit, she make the best goddamn chicken mayonnaise rolls you’ve ever tasted in your life! I swear to God, her chicken mayonnaise rolls were so good, I’d save them for the end of my school day and eat them on the rowing bus going back home with this big dumb smile on my face.

I’m older now and I understand that life is cruel, but why the fuck did it have to be so cruel to her? What the fuck did she ever do to deserve losing her daughter who died right next to Salome on the bed in the tiny room that Salome used to live in, what did she ever do to deserve that?

I remember one night she spoke to me about it, she came to me for answers, she wanted to know how the God she loved could do that, but what could I tell her? What the fuck do you say to  someone who’s been through that?

I hugged her because there was nothing I could say. I just hugged her for the longest time, until she’d stopped crying and I told her things would be ok, they would get better.

She used to give the softest hugs Salome, and if there is a God, she’s giving her daughter one of those hugs right now and they’re together in a world that’s much, much better than this one.






Who wants to die? What a load of crap! One day you’re you, walking around, hanging out with your buddies, doing whatever it is you do to kill time and the next BAM! You’re worm-food and that crazy, unique, fucking cool person that was you is just gone.

Of course, religion steps in at this point and tells us that there’s some amazing imaginary place that we go to (or some dreadful, torturous, fire-and-brimstone hell-hole where you spend eternity on the worst acid trip EVER) and that’s fine. If that’s what you want to believe, by all means believe it – I would too if I could, but hinging all my hopes on something that may or may not exist after this life is already over seems a little futile.



This is now. I got bills to pay goddamnit, I got a life to live! Heaven, hell, God, Satan those are just words to me. I try to do good and live well and not screw people around – those things are more important to me than what may or may not happen after I die.

I stumbled on this site the other day that takes things to the extreme and poses the question, what would happen if ALL of us died? If there was some cataclysmic event that wiped us all off the face of this planet for good and what I read was pretty amazing.


  • After 2 days without pumping, New York’s subways would impassably flood
  • After 7 the emergency fuel supply to the diesel generators that circulate cooling water to nuclear reactors would run out
  • After 1 year a BILLION annually doomed birds would live when radio and communication tower warning lights ceased blinking and high tension wires grew cold. Animals will begin to return to the sites of nuclear reactors which would all have melted down or burned. Human head and body live will have grown extinct
  • After 3 years buildings will start to collapse as their innards expand and contract. With no heated shelter, cockroaches in temperate cities would die after one or two winters
  • After 20 years the Panama Canal would have closed, reuniting the Americas. Common garden vegetables will have reverted to unpalatable strains
  • After 100 years populations of small predators (weasels, raccoons, foxes, etc.) will diminish due to competition from a human legacy: immensely successful feral housecats (kitteh!)
  • After 300 years, New York’s bridges would fall. Dams worldwide will have silted, overflowed and collapsed. Cities built in river deltas will have washed away completely
  • After 500 years, forests would stand in the place of most suburbs. Amid the trees aluminium dishwasher parts and stainless steel cookware would lie, their plastic handles splitting, but still solid
  • After thousands of years, the only human structures still intact would be underground
  • After 35 000 years all the lead deposited during the smokestack era will have finally been cleansed from the soil
  • After 100 000 years, CO2 levels will have returned to pre-human levels (could take longer)
  • After 250 000 years the levels of plutonium in plutonium bombs would be lost to the Earth’s natural background radiation
  • After hundreds of thousands of years microbes will have evolved to biodegrade plastic
  • After 7 200 000 years vestiges of Mount Rushmore will still be intact, barring asteroids or violent earthquakes. Toxic manmade substances such as PCB will still be intact, though mostly buried
  • After 10 200 000 years, bronze sculptures will still be recognisable!
  • After 3 billion years, life, albeit in forms we can’t even imagine, would still thrive on earth
  • After 4.5 billion years the half-million tons of depleted Uranium-238 in the US alone would have reached its half life. Earth would begin to warm as the sun expands. Microbial life forms resembling the first life forms on earth would out-last everything
  • After 5+ billion years the Earth would burn as the dying sun swells to envelope the inner planets


There is one final point at the end of the timeline, one that has had a profound effect on me ever since I read it because it proves that immortality in a certain form, is possible.

Right at the end, it simply says:


  • Forever: Our radio and television broadcasts, fragmented as they may be, will still be travelling outward.


Humans will never fade into complete obscurity. There will always be some trace of us, some proof that this beautiful and fucked up race existed, it’s already out there, reverberating through the ether like a dog without a bone, an actor all alone…



And THAT’S why, more than anything else, I need to get famous Winking smile

What the hell would space be without your Tiger pal bouncing around up there like a piece of loose shrapnel, freaking out the aliens?

Hold my hand, we’re going to Vegas.


A Word From The Kind Folks At Nokia

May 2020