Archive for November, 2009


A post on unrequited love

While I was thinking what to write for today’s post, my mind dug up one of my favourite quotes from one of my favourite authors, Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

The quote’s from one of his novellas called Memories of my Melancholy Whores. I read it about four years ago because my boss at the time bought it at a CNA before we boarded a flight to Cape Town.



The guy was really fucked up in a lot of ways, but was also a lot of fun. He basically only read books that had some kind of smutty angle and so bought the Marquez book based purely on its title.


Underneath the surface

We tried a couple of times, definitely more than once, to get the picture right, but it wasn’t easy. Above the surface you just point the camera at where experience has taught you your faces should be and hit the shutter button and that usually does the trick.

Underneath the surface, everything is different. You’re doing a whole bunch of things at the same time, holding your breath, trying to swim down, trying to keep your face next to hers, trying to smile, trying not to make too many bubbles.




You man the island

So I’m back from my sojourn in this new universe I’m building in my head. I took a day off yesterday and just got completely lost in a different world, fleshing it all out, meeting the characters.

You gotta ask yourself who they are, who their parents are, are they rich or poor? Are they well educated or stupid? Are they tall or short?

These questions, once you’ve answered them all, start acting as fuel for the inferno that is your story. They lend themselves naturally to situations that your characters find themselves in.




The Raddest Post Ever!

Today’s post is the raddest post ever! Some days you need long, rambling existential mind-fuck meandering, and some days, well, you just need hot mamasitas.

(I’m currently lost in a piece of fiction I’m teasing out and probably won’t get around to posting anything other than this today. Watch this space…)

So send this to every friend you know. Tell them it’s the raddest post you’ve ever read EVER and you’ll win a prize!



Party on Wayne.


*A stunning summer bikini


My Problem With The Interblags

I didn’t always used to be this way, blogging everyday, tweeting, interacting with my imaginary friends online. There used to be a time when I would meet people in the old fashioned way, by getting drunk in bars and clubs and simultaneously bludgeoning them with my opinions while beguiling them with my witty insights.

You’re on safe ground with drunks, they’re predictable. Not so with people you meet on the internet.



Problem with me is I just don’t trust my imaginary internet friends. How can you trust a person you’ve never met before? You can’t even begin to understand a person until you’ve shaken their hand, heard their voice, watched their mannerisms and looked into their eyes.


Nobody Take Today Seriously

Guys, please, for the love of god, nobody take today too seriously.

I have it on high authority that today is just fucking with us, just having a go, deliberately being facetious just to piss us all off, and so I urge you not to take today too seriously.

Here instead are things I think we should rather do today:

1. Take a long walk. Take deep breaths while you’re walking and concentrate on spending more time looking at the sky than looking at the ground. People don’t look up enough, they just look down at the ground and wonder why all their dreams keep dying.




Somewhere back in time, Stikey and I were sitting in a kind of fort that we built out of tree branches, by a fire when he told me about the rabbit hole and how and where to find it.

Those early runs, we did a lot of them together, down into the hole, twisting through those crazy tunnels, digging new passages, unstoppable in every way.

Later he caught something down there, he got sick, those tunnels and the places they lead were full of spores and he just breathed in too many.


His grip on the world outside the Hole was lost and most of us, we thought he was done for.


Bright Sunshiney Day

Sometime yesterday afternoon the sky opened after nearly a week, and sunlight, washed clean and pure, began pouring through the clouds.



J-Rab had to work and so, besides writing yesterday’s post, I didn’t do anything until she came home at lunchtime.

It was bliss. Cold and rainy outside, me hammering words out, warm in my Writer’s Uniform (dressing gown) and getting some good shit, stuff I’m proud of, out in words.

If you can get the right words out in the right order, you can create magic.


If you wanna run cool…

Overhead, the sky hangs thick and black with clouds and lashes the earth intermittently with rain.

Add the fact that for the last four days it’s been severely cold and you don’t exactly have the makings of the best week. Right from the day this dreary weather started I wrote that all I wanted to do was hide under the blankets until it passed and well, today is FINALLY that day.



And so I’m lying here right now in an old school rowing T-shirt from 2000, listening to Dire Straits while memories from last night bob to the surface of my mind.


The Hubbly Debate

Last night I was listening to 702 and they had this pretty interesting debate going on about Hubbly Bubblies (or Hookah pipes) because apparently a lot of teenage kids are smoking them and it’s destroying their lives.



It’s your typical Little Johnny story where Little Johnny starts out innocently smoking a Hubbly or two with his friends and then a year down the line in mainlining heroine and smoking cocks for cash.

I couldn’t really believe what I was hearing though, they brought in some expert or other who asked the question, What happens when the kids get bored of smoking molasses through water?