Posts Tagged ‘graumpot


Saturday Night – A Photo Journey

So yeah, we lost radio transmission for a few days back there and yesterday’s post wasn’t exactly what you’d call ‘worth a damn’ (not in my opinion anyway, I mean sure, there’s nothing wrong with pics of girls with see-through bras splashing around in pools, by there was no goddamn SUBSTANCE there! Nothing to sink your teeth into!) so here’s what went down at our farewell party.

In the beginning everything was cool, everything was chilled. The sun actually broke through the clouds for the first time in what felt like months sometime around 1pm, just before the party started. Not long after that, we posed for a sexy photo, me, J-Rab and THE CLAW OF DEATH!



A bunch of radass people arrived, one of which was Action Jackson who, even though he’s been at almost every party I’ve documented on this blog, has never actually had his picture published on this blog.

Ladies and gentlemen. With no further ado. I present to you. A great man and a personal friend of mine for the last 15 years. Wearing a Woody The Woodpecker T-Shirt and a badass grin. Mister. ACTION! JACKSON!



Another radass person to arrive was Graumpot. I asked him to hit us with his best ‘Heeeeeerrrrrrreeeeeee’s JOHNNY!’ face and good god did he nail it!



At this point, Jacey-got-the-aceys pushed me in the pool. The Red Mist descended. I got out, wrestled his ass to the ground, tried to tear his head off and generally put on a killer show for everyone else at the party, who all just stood around staring at us in a kind of shocked silence.

Shortly thereafter, everything was forgotten. Jacey gave me a high-five, I gave him a *5! and much hilarity ensued. Here’s a picture of some hilarity ensuing.



Then something weird happened and things took a turn, a dark turn, for the worst. Night fell and the volume of alcohol consumed took a sharp increase. Confusion reigned supreme, all around there was wailing and gnashing of teeth and somewhere, out of nowhere, a strange 40-year old man arrived and drank too much.

He then proceeded to try and pose in a ‘cool’ way for photos. But it wasn’t cool. I’m… sorry you have to see this…



After that, everything went to hell in a handbasket. More people arrived and we instantly made friends for life and then forgot each other’s names and had some more tequila. A loud splash was heard from the direction of the pool and before I knew what the hell was going on, I was in there, surrounded by ladies, it was amazing, it was like girl soup in there, party on Wayne!



And THAT my friends, was only the beginning of the party. Things still carried on until the wee hours, it was a truly sick, sick, sick party, wish you could have been there!

To end things off, here’s my favourite pic of me and J-Rab from Saturday. Sure, we might look a little drunk, a little starry-eyed, but more than anything we’re just happy to be surrounded by our friends on a warm summer evening, shooting the breeze and making some of the last memories of our life together in Joburg.



Thank you for taking this photo journey with me and my pals. Next stop CAPE TOWN MUTHUFUKKAHS!



The Saturday Post (Brought to you by SlickTiger)

Thunder is grumbling as I write this and a steady fall of lazy summer rain is drenching the world outside. But here inside there is only quiet and calm as I lie like a big lazy lizard on my girlfriend and she dozes peaceful and warm underneath me.



Today was a frenzy of Christmas shopping and I’m really happy we got a lot of it out the way. My family is small up here in Joeys so I really just have to worry about presents for the folks and something radass for J-Rab.

I already have it all planned out – what I’m gonna give her, how it’s all gonna pan out and I think it’s going to be the best Christmas ever 🙂



But I gotta run, Graumpot and M-Class just arrived and they’ll think I’m rude if I just lie here, blogging naked.

Later party people 🙂



Car Wreck

Today’s a public holiday so J-Rab and I slept in late, but at about 10.30 a white BMW crashed right through the perimeter wall of our complex.

J-Rab and I jerked awake, but it wasn’t until J-Rab left the house later to get groceries that she saw the car wreck, parked halfway through the wall.

I only saw it this afternoon, chunks of cement and glass and the spikes that used to be on top of the wall all twisted and useless on the ground.



I stared at the mess in front of me for a long while. I tried to figure out what might have caused the accident, but I couldn’t. The security guard now posted at our new entrance wasn’t much help either.

‘Hey man, were you here when this happened?’


‘Were you here when this happened?’


‘Was the person OK? The person driving the car?’

‘Eh, what?’

‘Was the person driving the car OK? Did you see him?’

‘Eh, no. I wasn’t here when it happened.’

I walked back to the flat. I thanked whatever Gods may be that it wasn’t me in that wreck. I’ve been in enough wrecks in my life and yes, I have the scars to prove it.

Last night was a whole other circus. What started off as a civilised soiree in our flat with Graumpot and M-Class and a COLOSSAL plate of 60 pieces of sushi degenerated over the course of the next few hours to a scene that could have been stolen right outta Jerry Springer.



We decided to go to Jolly Cool’s to shoot some pool, have a few drinks, nothing too crazy.

We arrived, put some coins down on a table of four dudes playing and asked if they could give us a shout when their game was done so we could play.

Of course 20 mins later I go back to the tables and they’ve started the next game and completely ignored us. So we stand by the table and wait for them to finish their game and when they do, the fuckers put another coin in and play another game while we just stand by and watch.

‘Fuck these guys,’ I said to J-Rab, ‘let’s go to Defcon4.’

The easiest way to fuck up a guy’s shot when he’s playing is to get a girl to either stare at his ass as he bends to take a shot, stand in front of him as he’s taking the shot and show maximum cleavage or have a girl make snide remarks behind his back that are just loud enough for him to hear every time he fucks up a shot.



I call this Defcon4. J-Rab played her part perfectly and soon enough the guys were playing the most shocking game of pool I’ve seen in ages.

Awesome. Now they were on our level.

We sauntered up to the table after they were finally done and started shooting a game to decide who keeps the table. All I can say is thank fuck Graum was on my side cause I sank nothing. I was too interested in man handling J-Rab between shots to really give a shit about the game.

Coolest thing though was that Graum cleaned up for us and got us onto the black ball while they still had a ball on the table. I walk up to play my shot. It’s a total mess, I can’t see any pockets and can’t double the black ball either because their ball is in the way.

Fuck it. I hardly even aim as I slam the white right into the black and their ball and KAPOW! sink the black and win the game.

For the next five minutes I was a hero. Five minutes after that the douchebags left.

Too-de-loo muthufukkus.

We shot another couple of games, Guitar Jon and The Glaze joined us, good times were had by all until this crazy bitch in a green top started throwing glasses and other assorted bar paraphernalia at this black girl who the green top girl had decided, for whatever reason, it was her mission in life to kill.

That’s when we knew it was hometime.

Now we’re gonna make some noms for supper, chill with a movie and enjoy the good life on this breezy, warm and beautiful summer evening.

Until tomorrow.



near-death sunday

There are some Sundays that come around and kick you arse so hard you wish you could go back in time and undo the chaos you got caught up in the night before.

At sometime around 7 this morning a feeling started burning inside me like my guts were on fire. It rose steadily up my throat, roasting me alive inch by inch as whatever evil concoction I’d mixed in my stomach last night fought desperately to see the light of day.

When I feel like this, I know I’m in for a rough two hours. I got a hiatus hernia that probably needs fixing, I saw a doctor about it awhile back and he gave me some meds to fix it, but if I don’t take this pill at the same time everyday, even if I’m a few hours out, I start to suffer.

Then if I take the meds, it flares up before it gets better and for about two hours I feel like I’m being burnt alive by industrial strength acid from the inside out.

In my head I remember Alien, specifically the scene where they try and cut the alien off Kane (John Hurt) when it first attaches to his face and they find out that its blood is so corrosive it eats through two floors.



That’s what I reckon would happen if you cut me when my reflux is bad.

J-Rab got up to go to work and then visit the place where she used to work so she could see her buddy ol’ pal, the Siberian Tiger Baloo. I lay in bed and entertained thoughts that I might actually have died the night before and was now in hell.

I ate my way through half a pack of Rennies, a double dose of my meds and two of the painkillers they gave after my shoulder operation to try and knock my headache out.

On mornings like these, the Kris Kristofferson song ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’ becomes the story of my life:

“Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An’ I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An’ stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I’d smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I’d been pickin’.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin’ at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
‘n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin’ chicken.
And it took me back to somethin’,
That I’d lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cos there’s something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’,
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin’ little girl who he was swingin’.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin’.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin’.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
‘Cos there’s something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there’s nothin’ short of dyin’,
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin’ city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

Do do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do do,
Do do do do do do do.

To fade

I mean, how excellent is that song? Read it, really read those fucking lyrics! ‘Do do do do do do do do’! Have you ever heard a more compelling call to action?! Do! DO!



So anyway, eventually the couch healed me, don’t ask me how, but by just sitting upright on it for about an hour, staring at the TV even though it was off, I slowly started to feel better and better and last night slowly swam into focus.

Probably the first thing that came back was me asking one of Graumpot’s Indian guests at his housewarming braai yesterday if she had any black heritage. I mean c’mon! That’s a perfectly innocuous question right? Right?

No. Not right. Wrong. Apparently she spent the rest of the night asking everyone if she looked black in this desperate, paranoid kind of way. I did not mean to upset her in any way, but ended up probably ruining her evening.


Otherwise I behaved well. Also, I came up with a new stroke of genius when it comes to remembering the crazy thoughts I have so I can blog about them later, I use this advanced piece of technology called the ‘voice recorder’ on my cell phone.

I just opened my voice files from yesterday and came across the following:

1. ‘Terminator car. Running from right through the car window, around the back and into the left rear view mirror. Stop’

2. ‘We gotta get out of this place’ playing on Graum’s car stereo.

3. A note to write a letter to Josh Homme and post it on my site. This is the gayest idea I’ve ever had.

4. An interview with Graum’s girlfriend M-Class while she was making potato salad with bacon.

5. My attempt at trying to get everyone at the party to tell me their nick names. Fail.

So yeah, great idea there Slick. Life changing stuff. Dun duuunnnnnn!

I drank a bottle of brandy last night, basically put the entire bottle down except for an inch on the bottom. I drank it with coke, which is what I think triggered the intense heartburn this morning.

Remember kids, don’t do what Tiger-Don’t does. Drinking an entire bottle of brandy is never, ever a good idea. It’s a miracle that asking a girl if one of her folks was black is the only thing I did.

J-Rab came late cause she had her office Christmas party and I was so happy to see her, I followed her into the bathroom and hugged her legs while she was trying to pee. Much hilarity ensued. About half an hour later I curled up in her lap (my happy place) and passed out.

It was good to see Graum and M-Class though, they just finished doing a TEFL course so they’ve been scarce over the past few weeks. Peggles and PGF were also there, they didn’t get too fucked up though cause this morning they wanted to go cycling (?)

Good people, good times.

Now it’s Sunday evening and I’m keen to hit the sack and start sawing a couple logs.

Later masturbators 😉


A Word From The Kind Folks At Nokia

October 2019
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