Archive for the 'Good Times' Category



13
Feb
13

Sakhi’s Puke

ChefSo as I mentioned in passing last week, J-Rab is currently in the UK visiting her sister who is due to have a baby, so your Tiger pal has been toughing it out alone the past ten days.

In the beginning I was like, “Huh. This is kinda cool – more time to write in the evenings, the car all to myself (we share it normally), life on my own terms fuck yeah!”

But after awhile the evenings really start to stretch out. Not having the other person around starts becoming unnerving and even with music blasting in the background, you can’t escape the eerie silence that settles like a shroud over the space you used to share.

How do single people live like this?! Doesn’t it drive you guys fucking bonkers? I was making meatballs on Monday night and I was lost so deep in my own thoughts that I dredged up a memory I swear I haven’t thought about for about 18 years.

 

 

At my Prep school we had this huge 6ft cook, this gigantic rotund black man called Sakhi. I remember him clear as day – he was a permanently greasy guy who seemed to toil endlessly in the kitchen, banging pots and pans and doing whatever was necessary to make sure we got fed every day at lunchtime.

His hygiene left almost as much to be desired as his cooking, which we all complained about endlessly, but he wasn’t a bad person, he didn’t deliberately try to poison us with aphid-ridden vegetables and gloopy, over-cooked meat, that was just his style of cooking (if you could call it that).

 

 

So I was thinking about ol’ Sakhi on Monday night while I was making spaghetti and meatballs when I suddenly remembered his signature dish – the one kids would whisper about the same way we’d tell each other ghost stories when we went on school camps.

“Sakhi’s Puke.”

To this day, I have no idea what Sakhi’s Puke actually was, but the random way it jumped right out of my brain after 18 years of not thinking about it at all made me instantly crack up laughing and I swear I didn’t stop for a good 20 minutes.

 

 

It wasn’t funny back then though. Back then if they were serving “Sakhi’s Puke” kids would literally hide in the bathrooms during lunch hour to avoid eating whatever that stuff was.

So yeah, if you could have seen me on Monday night, rattling around my flat all alone, laughing like a crazy person and repeating the words “Sakhi’s Puke” over and over, laughing a little harder each time, you’d be forgiven for thinking I had completely lost my mind.

J-Rab’s back on Sunday.

Not a moment too soon Winking smile

-ST

31
Dec
12

Happy 2013 From Your Tiger Pal!

fireworksHey Party People, how the hell have you guys been?! Things have been chilled out to the maximum here at SlickTiger Industries as you may well have noticed, but all that will change in 2013.

In fact, a motherflippin shitload is going to change in 2013 (the Chinese year of the snake) and I want every one of you to hold my hand, don’t be afraid, and roll with those changes.

You can fight a lot of things, and you should, but you can never fight change. Without it, life looses its lustre and our lives very quickly become stagnant and meaningless. 

“Be Brave.” That’s the SlickTiger mantra for 2013. That’s the slogan I’ll be living my life by in the coming year because holy sheeit guys, it’s do or die and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself the hard way, it’s that I’m VERY fucking bad at dying.

Each new year is a gift, a chance to start fresh, a clean slate. A lot can change in a year if you focus on your goals and stick with your guns, but I know I’m preaching to the choir here – if you read this site, you’re already a total badass.

 

 

You guys are the best audience an aspiring writer like me could ever ask for. Your praise, comments, insights, tweets and re-tweets are what keep this site, and my dreams of one day becoming a big-shot writer, alive and kicking.

From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and every one of you.

Them’s Fightin’ Words continues to grow steadily. This year I successfully topped all previous records I’ve hit on this site by klapping over 120 000 views in one year.

For a guy holding down a full-time job who bangs posts out in the evenings or first thing in the mornings before hitting the grind on a budget of R0 and an entire team of 1 man, that’s not bad.

 

 

I can only dream of what this site could be capable of with a few big cash donors, a team of content producers as fucking crazy as I am and a singular vision to be the best blog in the country.

I know if I stick with this site, if I keep the posts up and keep the good shit coming, I’ll one day be able to achieve that goal because every year that this site keeps fighting is another year the good guys win.

I’m gonna wrap this up because I don’t wanna keep you guys from whatever crazy plans you might have, but I just want you all to know that tonight I drink to everyone who contributed to those 120k views so yeah, wish me luck!

Happy 2013 Party People. Be safe, look after one another and above all else, be brave Winking smile

 

 

Your Tiger pal,

-ST

21
Dec
12

Follow The Tiger’s “Hunter’s Longest Day” Journey Live!

hunters-dry-cider-chase-the-heat-600-25990Hiya Party People! You guys must be getting really fired up for the holidays now as I’m guessing at least 80% of you are going on leave today, hells yeah!

So be honest, you aren’t going to be doing a helluva lot today right? So why not watch your Tiger pal run around Cape Town with the Hunter’s Dry crew chasing the heat from sunrise to sunset?

If the iframe I’ve embedded below works you should be able to tune into a live feed of what your Tiger pal, a bunch of other bloggers, lucky FB winners and the Hunter’s Dry team are getting up to today in REAL TIME!

We’re going to be learning how to surf, shooting clay pigeons, going to the driving range, watching ous hang-glide and partying on a BOAT YO!

Check it:

 

 

Can you guys see that? If you can’t, hit me up on Twitter (@slicktiger) and I’ll try to fix it with the help of my trusty Nokia Lumia 900 while we’re chasing the sun today.

At the end of it all, we’ll be partying in Clifton so don’t be a stranger. After all, in the great and wise words of Madonna, “Holiday-eeee, celebray-eeeet”.

Later Party People Winking smile

-ST

18
Dec
12

A Blog Post From The Other Side

cape-townIf you’re still at work reading this, then I have good news for you. As a man who’s been on holiday since Friday, I can honestly say that it’s FUCKING AWESOME!

Especially if you live in Cape Town. I mean holy shit, how hot has it been the past 10 days? The city bowl is like a goddamn oven – the sun sets at 8pm and all throughout the day it’s clear skies, sunshine and good times.

I only go back to work on the 7th Jan but I’m not actually going anywhere so I’ve decided to carve my days up into “time units” that I’m only allowed to spend doing stuff that makes me happy.

A “time unit” is roughly an hour, give or take. I’ve stopped checking the time on my cell phone and am training myself to figure out what time it is by gauging the sun’s position in the sky, which I’ve found myself spending many “time units” gazing at.

 

 

The sky, as it turns out, is an infinitely fascinating place inhabited by more birds than I think you realise because you never look up.

But don’t feel bad, nobody looks up. Everybody’s always looking down to make sure they don’t fall down a manhole or something while they scuttle from one important thing to another.

Fuck that. Over the last two days I estimate I’ve expended roughly seven “time units” on the beach, lying on my back, my face shaded by our blue stripy beach umbrella with a huge, content grin on my face doing nothing but watching the sky.

That is of course until I inevitably doze off to the calming sounds of icy waves crashing on the shore, the rhythmic percussion of people playing beach bat and ball and the far off cries of lollies to make you jolly.

 

 

It’s been great guys, really. My only regret is that I haven’t dedicated more time to writing, but I’m going to work on fixing that.

In the meantime, here’s a breakdown of how I’m currently expending “time units”:

Sun at Early-Sky

  • 2 TU: Waking J-Rab up and telling each other our dreams, making delicious coffee, shuffling around in my underpants, saying good morning to the cat, eating toast / yoghurt and fruit salad, getting dressed, brushing teeth, etc.
  • 1 TU: KLAPPING GYM BOET! It’s flippin important to always klap gym ALWAYS! Other ous stop klapping gym in holidays, those ous are flippin DOFF! In the holidays is when the best time is to get a flippin’ MASSIVE and RIPPED advantage over other lazy ous. You won’t need a “getting back into shape after christmas” program boet, you’ll be the ou in the gym the other ous will check in January and be like “FLIP MAN! How’s that oke?! Jassis he looks TIT!”
  • 1 TU: Quick cold shower, protein shake, baguette sarmie-making session, packing the coolie with lots of ice and water, packing backpacks with towels, suncream and books, saying goodbye to the cat

Sun at Middle-Sky

  • 3 TU: Setting up comfy beach spot. Lay our towels down, opening the umbrella, putting on lots of suncream factor 30 (NB!) and drinking ice-cold water. After a bit we haul the sarmies out and have lunch and watch the ocean swell and crash in impossibly big waves. When we’re so hot it feels like our blood’s about to boil we dive headlong into the sea, gasping as we come up for air because the water’s so deliciously cold. We sprint out again and sprawl on our towels. Sometimes we play backgammon on the beach, we used to play beach bat and ball but we’re pretty bad at it and kept hitting the ball into people trying to relax.
  • 2 TU: Packing up from the beach and coming home. Greeting the cat and asking her how her day was. Having cold showers, checking for sunburn and applying aftersun if necessary.
  • 1 TU: Afternoon nap with the fan on. 100% guilt-free summer napping. You can’t beat this – the feeling of the glowing sun radiating from you, the saltiness of the ocean rough on your skin. Is it possible to fall asleep and wake up still smiling? Yes. Yes it is.

Sun at Low-Sky

 

  • 2 TU: We throw supper together. Summer is light stuff – salads, fish, easy stuff like that. The sun sinks quietly and the cobalt hue of evening engulfs the sky. I sneak up behind her while she’s cooking sometimes and put my arms around her. In this simple way we love each other.
  • 3 TU: We curl up and watch movies and series or read books or engage in other activities that shall remain nameless because my mom reads this blog. We brush teeth and sometimes floss. J-Rab falls asleep in my arms while the occasional breeze whispers through the curtains and all is quiet except for the occasional passing car in the street outside and the cat’s muffled miaws as she catches mice in her dreams

If I could hit pause right now, I swear I could live out the rest of my days in this moment and die a happy man.

Ah, what the hell.

*pause*

-ST

10
Dec
12

The Tiger’s Back In Town

Free-Download-Tiger-Theme-for-Windows-7-Tiger-AttackingHoly balls it feels like ages since I last posted! Thanks for hanging in there guys, it’s been a bit of an epic dry spell, but your Tiger pal’s back – bruised, battered but fighting on.

I’m writing this in PE, staring out the window of the B&B that’s been my home for the last week at a cotton-white sky as rain falls imperceptibly on the tiny, manicured garden outside.

If I had to explain how I’m feeling right now, the first words that come to mind are “wrung dry”.

That feeling when the project you’ve been working on so hard it’s consumed your every waking moment finally ends and the best you can say is, “It went ok.”

Not horrendously bad, not career-alteringly amazing, just ok. It went ok, people seemed to like it, things happened (mostly) as they were meant to and now all that’s left to do is write the debriefing reports, discuss what worked and what didn’t and pack up shop for the December holidays.

 

 

Friday is our last official day in the office, then ol’ Slicky-T is on leave until the 7th Jan bitches!

I can’t fucking wait.

I can’t fucking wait to dedicate my waking hours solely to the things I love doing – writing, creating sick content, reading, lying on packed summer beaches and soaking up the sun, swimming, training, eating well, watching movies and series, doing whatever the fuck I want to do.

More than that though, I can’t fucking wait to go back home to J-Rab.

I can’t wait to take her into my arms, breathe her in deep, hold her there and not let go. Her body pressed against mine, her head nestled in the crook of my neck, I swear to God, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever felt to home.

And wow, I can’t wait to eat some home-cooked food, made from scratch. I’ve been smashing so many take-aways that my hands smell like burger and my sweat feels like deep-fryer grease.

 

 

There have been good times, slamming tequila shots and dancing until 4am, racing around this two-horse city at ungodly hours, a sea of constantly shifting faces, smiling, laughing, swirling endlessly across dancefloors writhing with life.

And then the next day, waking up in an empty bed, aching all over from the fight you had with numerous bottles the night before. If you get a gigantic, greasy breakfast down quickly enough, you’re ok.

You throw some vodka in that orange juice. It goes down like knives, but without it you don’t stand a snowball’s chance of keeping that brekky down.

You shower and suit up, Bioplus sachets and McNab’s Energy Tabs and you’re all set.

You step out into the big bad world and you get ready to do it all again.

A week of this and you can only imagine what my liver thinks of me.

 

 

But now it’s all over and all there is left to do is jump on that big steel bird and fly back to my lady.

There are good times ahead Party People.

Sunshine and good times Winking smile

-ST

07
Nov
12

Best “Go Home You Are Drunk” Memes

cd1What I probably should be posting about today is tha fact that ol’ Barack “Barry” Obama has won the US presidential election and the Zomney apocalypse has been conquered.

But instead I’m just going to post a whole collection of hilarious “Go Home You Are Drunk” memes because I’ve got about 15 minutes to write this before today starts kicking my ass.

So with no further ado, here are the best “Go Home You Are Drunk” memes to kill some time while we all wait for that gigantic douchebag Zomney to concede and let us all carry on with our lives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LOLZ MUTHUFUKKAHS!

Have a great day.

-ST

30
Oct
12

SlickTiger And The Terror Island #5GumExperience

2012-10-27-132Shit guys. I don’t even know where to start with this one. I think I’ve thought up about a hundred different ways I could slice this post, but it would all be lies I tell you. Shame-faced lies.

Which is probably the route I should take here because if blogging has taught me anything, it’s to never, EVER abuse the freebies you get by being too honest (Synergy review, I’m looking at you…).

But unfortunately in this case I don’t really have any other option. I love you 5Gum, I think you guys host killer events and look forward to all your parties and telling everyone I know about them, but yeah. I botched Saturday’s party completely so please forgive me for what I’m about to write…

It all started at about 2.30 in the afternoon last Saturday. The sun was shining, the weather was sweet and J-Rab and I were hitting up a good buddy’s 30th birthday party.

 

 

Soon after arriving, I realised that I was the biggest ou at the party by a country mile which is a very bad thing because without the threat of someone bigger than me putting me back in my place if I get a little rowdy, well, I get a little rowdy.

So I began putting the double whiskies away like nobody’s business and administering life to the party like some kind of human defibrillator.

Sure, I might have been a little douchey, but at this stage I was still on the level so a great time was had by all until we had to duck out at 6pm to start getting ready for Terror Island.

The tickets we had said dress Halloweeny and the party was called Terror Island, so naturally my drunk-ass brain put two and two together and was like “PIRATE!”

 

 

But my brain was like: “No… That’s not Halloweeny enough…”

Which of course lead to: “GHOST PIRATE!” and me spending the next hour in the bathroom with these Bostick face-paints we had leftover from the Soccer World Cup, trying to do my make-up like some sad, sorry, drunken clown getting ready for a 6 year-old’s birthday party.

J-Rab came in half-way in to find out what the hell was taking me so long with the white stick of face-paint and as I turned to show her the killer job I was doing of turning myself into Carolyn Manson (Marilyn’s lesser-known cousin), what was left of the white stick of face-paint fell out of its lipstick-like holder and plopped into the loo.

In a flash I was elbows-deep in that basterd to save the white face-paint (don’t worry, J-Rab and I are meticulous flushers so there was nothing dodgey in there) which I did and um… dried it off and um… why am I telling you guys this?!?!

 

 

Anyway, we got our shit together and cabbed it to Grand Central for the big party only to realise that maybe 20% of the people at the party actually made an effort to dress up.

Not that I gave two shits at that point. I was a GHOST PIRATE MUTHUFUKKAH! Shiver me muthufukkin’ TIMBERS, BITCHES YEAH!

That’s the closest approximation I can give to what my internal dialogue sounded like at that point. It was 7.30.

We were eventually shown the way to go to the #5GumExperience which involved walking past a gigantic taxi rank on our left ripe with the smell of old urine.

It added perfectly to the terror J-Rab was feeling at this point and rightly so. Her knight in shining armour had been replaced by the village drunk who would have been as effective as a balloon sword in a knife fight if any shit went down.

Luckily none did though and the evening started off really well as J-Rab and I befriended all the crazy party people who had also gone all out to dress up in the Halloween theme.

Which resulted in the following pictures:

 

 

 

 

By my estimate we probably jammed with the people in the pictures above for about two hours, after which point I headed to VIP to say WAZZUP to THE MAEN!

At this stage, I think I’d drunk about three quarters of a bottle of whisky over a 7-hour period. I was gone daddy gone. Then this picture happened, apparently:

 

 

After that we headed to the main stage where someone was playing.

I got down on the dancefloor (READ: flailed my limbs around like a frog in a blender) until I had cleared a sizeable circle around me, then I schloomfed off with J-Rab to get some food, then I ate that food in a terrifying massacre of melted cheese and salami and then I felt like a nap so we went home.

It was hands down the worst attempt at rocking out at a gig since I went to watch Saron Gas when I was 17 and had five tequilas and about 10 Redds (Redds! Hahahaha!) before we’d even arrived.

Twenty minutes after we arrived I proceeded to smash my head against a low concrete ceiling on the upstairs balcony at The Doors in Edenvale which scrambled my brains so badly I staggered inside, puked on the actual bar, was promptly thrown the fuck out and had to be driven back home with all my buddies because we’d shared a car to get there.

Fun times.

 

 

To the organisers of the Terror Island in CT, I am truly, deeply sorry. It’s not my style to be the guy so blitzed he can’t remember if he had a killer time or not and you have my word if you guys throw another one, I’ll at least show up sober like a normal human and actually write a decent event review.

At this point, I’d be hugely grateful to anyone, anyone at all, who can jump onto the comments section below and tell me how Terror Island actually was.

There’s a lesson to be learned here kids. NEVER put on face-paint that’s been in the loo. It instantly becomes toxic I tells ya!

Face –> palm.

-ST

29
Oct
12

The Tiger Hits Up The Windows 8 Launch – Gets Treated Like Royalty

WP_000199One thing is for sure when it comes to a company like Microsoft, they spare no expense when launching a new operating system.

Last week Thursday I was flown up to Jozi, put up in the Hyatt Hotel in Rosebank and transferred to the venue for the launch, a studio in downtown Jozi where free food and drinks flowed in abundance.

From the minute I stepped foot into Cape Town International until I returned exactly 20 hours later, the logistics of my trip happened like clockwork, which I know from organising similar events is no small feat.

However, it’s a fine line between communicating all the features of an OS like Windows 8 in a fun, interactive way that illustrates the actual benefit the product will have in people’s lives and dragging the formalities on for so long that your audience mentally checks out.

And that is really my only gripe about the entire evening, the formalities went on for a very, very long time and at times I could feel the audience zoning out a bit. A steady supply of alcohol would have solved this problem.

 

 

Kingsley Holgate was the master of ceremonies and I must say, the guy is a born entertainer and story-teller and made a great MC considering the whole evening was African-themed from the animal-skin-wearing jembe drummers at the entrance to the gigantic baobab tree under which all the speakers addressed the audience.

So no issues there, Kingsley was awesome and after the formalities had ended I went and chatted with the guy for about half an hour and found him to be a genuinely fascinating, humble and approachable person.

Check out this pic of your Tiger pal and ol’ K-Hol as I like to call him:

 

 

Kingsley was joined onstage by Lebo Mashile, who regaled us with her poetry and co-hosted the event. From what I could tell, she basically memorised her entire speech which, considering the formalities lasted for about an hour and a half, was no small feat.

Kingsley and Lebo went through the ritual of bestowing “African totems” upon the various speakers, inviting them on stage and interrogating them about how Windows 8 has changed their lives.

I kept waiting for the moment when “Circle Of Life” would come blasting over the AV as Kingsley held Windows 8 aloft on a fibre-glass replica of Pride Rock, but sadly it never came.

Instead the following SA celebs came up one-by-one (the word in brackets is their totem):

  • Chad Le Clos, Olympic swimmer and gold medallist (dung beetle. Hahahaha!)
  • Sibusiso Vilane, mountain climber (leopard. Legit)
  • Reuben Riffel, celebrity chef (elephant. Because, you know, elephants are the Master Chefs of the animal kingdom)
  • Fee Halstead, ceramic artist (sunbird. Also legit)
  • Gregg Marinovich, photographer (fish eagle. “Look. Dad. A. Fish. Eagle.” “Where. Son? I. can’t. see. it.”)
  • Ridwan Mia, plastic surgeon (umm… shit… I think I’d blacked out by this point…)
  • Dance You’re On Fire, SA band (same…)

It was a a cool idea for the launch – actually demonstrate in a real-world situation how these SA celebs use Windows 8 and what value it brings to their lives.

Chad and Gregg were my favourites because they came across as 100% genuine and got lots of laughs from the crowd. Especially Chad who showed us his contact list on Windows 8 with hilarious entries like “Brony Hot”.

 

 

As for the operating system itself, Windows 8 is nothing short of a complete re-invention of Windows and from a multi-media / social perspective it looks like a massive improvement on Windows 7.

The interface is built using a series of customisable tiles, much like the current batch of Windows Phones.

Everything is streamlined to be neat and is intuitively organised so that all your content is easily accessible and shareable.

 

 

It’s also built to work across a variety of different mediums including phones, tablets, desktops and laptops. In fact, all the speakers at the launch demoed Windows 8 on their respective tablets with mixed results.

It very quickly became apparent that some speakers had more experience using the OS than others, one of whom (who shall remain nameless) was unable to get past the password screen and unlock his device. Awkies.

 

 

From my experience using the Nokia Lumia 900, I think Windows 8 is going to be a game-changer for Microsoft and I can’t wait to get stuck into the copy of the OS I got at the launch so I can write a more in-depth review.

Once the formalities were over, Dance You’re On Fire stepped up to rock out and played an amazingly tight set despite the fact that frontman Tom Manners was singing with a fractured rib after a nasty fall he took a few weeks back when he was cycling.

After that I went to chat with The Chad and also found him to be a very cool, very friendly guy. He was more than happy to pose for pics and chat with the guests at the launch and I enjoyed getting to know the ou. He’s a stand-up guy, no doubt about that.

 

 

So there you have it. All-in-all I had a flippin’ radass time at the Windows 8 launch and I think the OS itself is going to make huge waves around the world.

What’s also cool is that if you bought a Windows 7 PC between June 2nd 2012 and January 31st 2013 you can download Windows 8 Pro for an estimated retail price of R130.00 (exchange rate dependent) with the Windows Upgrade Offer, available at www.windowsupgradeoffer.com.

So jump on that party people and let’s Windows 8 the shit out of shit!

-ST

19
Oct
12

To J-Rab On Our Five Year Anniversary

IMG_2267Ain’t it funny babe? The way every time I write one of these I make all these promises of how stinking rich I’ll be one day and how much I’ll spoil you on our anniversary and then the next one rolls around and I’m still pretty much broke?

Thank Christ you’re not with me for the money. It’s always been a source of great happiness for me that you’re not one of those girls.

The ones obsessed with material bullshit. Obsessed with shopping and girly pop music and puke-worthy rom coms and things that are pink.

It’s always been a great source of happiness for me that above everything, you are real.

You have the courage to speak your mind and are incapable of lying or putting on false airs for the sake of impressing people too shallow-minded to accept others for who they really are.

That takes real guts. I’m sorry I don’t give you more credit for just being you, in this photo-shopped world of glossy fabrication, that’s a rare quality.

So here we are, five years down the road, living in our little flat in Vredehoek with a stray cat you brought home that has since become a part of our family of two, and no shit, I couldn’t be happier.

What a rare thing to find in this life. True happiness, the kind that flows effortlessly and in abundance and fills your life with purpose and a sense that this crazy fucked-up world ain’t so bad after all.

When I walk into a room I stand that much taller and prouder because I know that no matter what the people there may or may not think about me, I must be worth a damn because you love me.

You’ll never know the calm strength that gives me.

Before you I was a piece of loose shrapnel, bouncing off the walls, tearing everything around me to pieces, getting slowly crushed by my own vices and full of so much rage babe, so much unfocussed anger and hate at the world for all the times it chewed me up and spat me out.

I was a time-bomb. Dramatic as it sounds. I was a statistic waiting to happen.

After that first weekend we spent together all those years ago, I went around to Peggles’ place and the change I’d undergone after just two days with you was written all over me.

He could see it, plain as day, the inferno had died down, the churning maelstrom inside had finally grown still.

Sure, that age-old rage still wells up in me sometimes, that powerfully destructive energy I’ve fought to control my whole life, but one look, one touch from you and it subsides.

Thank you babe, for dating a fucking maniac like me. The world needs to know how brave you are because there isn’t a woman I know who would have toughed out the hard times with me like you have.

You might have the nickname Jessica Rabbit, but deep inside you’re a lioness. The Tiger and the Lion. When we have kids they’ll be Ligers.

I know we came close this year to ending it all and we went through some dark and heavy times, but we made it through all that shit and I swear, we’re stronger for it.

I know this because despite everything we’ve been through, I’m still the happiest man alive to fall asleep with you in my arms every night and wake up next to you every morning.

This is the real deal babe. The giant L-word people search their whole lives for and in some cases, never find.

But I know I’ve found it with you. You’re my companion, my lover, my strength and my sunshine.

You’re my perfect piece of DNA, caught in the flashing rain.

I love you Jess, happy anniversary.

 

 

-ST

16
Oct
12

Granadilla Lolly Price Skyrockets, The Tiger Loses His Shit

granadilla2There is no better feeling known to man than the deep-down happiness you experience after two hours on a scorching hot Cape Town beach when the Grenedilla Lolly Guy rocks up.

“GRENEDILLA LOLLIES!” he belts out in his hilariously legit accent, “A LOLLY TO MAKE YOU JOLLY!” And my God! The man’s right! You’ve never tasted a jollier lolly in your life!

In that golden moment when the ice-cold lolly hits your tongue, you basically don’t have a single care in the world. There’s just the sound of the ocean, the feeling of the sun beating down on you and the taste of granadilla heaven in your mouth.

I’ve watched people go into full on lolly-induced paroxysms of sheer ecstasy when they’re only three licks in. By five, every muscle in their body has become inert as they lie there deliriously licking their lollies.

 

 

The GRENEDILLA LOLLY rates right up there with biltong, boerewors and koeksusters as one of South Africa’s most ingenious culinary delights. The catch is, you have to be on the beach in the sweltering hot sun to experience the full power of The Lolly.

The Grenedilla Lolly Guy knows this. I mean Christ, he’s no idiot. He knows he’s got what marketers call a “captive audience” because let’s face it, you’re not going to get up and go try find a GRENEDILLA LOLLY anywhere else right? That would totally defeat the point!

So sure, he’s definitely going to mark up his product by at least 200%, he’d be an idiot not to. The poor guy’s got a family to feed and lugging that cooler box up and down a scorching hot beach all day can’t be fun.

 

 

The going rate for a GRENEDILLA LOLLY on most beaches in Cape Town is roughly fifteen South African Ront and has been for some time.

This is literally the only money I’ll take to the beach. Thirty Ront. Fifteen for me, fifteen for the missus, 2x GRENEDILLA LOLLIES when we’re so hot it feels like our blood is about to boil and Bob’s your motherflippin uncle! We’re in Lolly Heaven and life couldn’t be better.

So imagine my total outrage and utter despair last Sunday on finding that the GRENEDILLA LOLLY price has increased by no less than 33.33333%!

That’s right! The next time you’re on your favourite capetonian beach, don’t be surprised if you get fleeced for no less than TWENTY FLIPPIN RONT for a GRENEDILLA LOLLY.

 

 

“Is this some kind of sick joke?!” I asked The Grenedilla Lolly Guy indignantly, “I was literally here two weeks ago and it was fifteen ront a lolly, what the hell is going on?!”

“Ag you know man,” he replied, “petrol price is going up…”

“What the hell does the petrol price have to do with grenedilla lollies!?” I shot back, furious, “that makes absolutely no sense, I demand a fifteen ront lolly or we’re leaving!”

“Sorry Captain,” he said in his infuriatingly jolly way, “it’s twenty rend a lolly now Captain.”

“And that’s supposed to make me jolly?!”

“Yes Captain. A lolly to make you jolly.”

“Fine. Whatever. Have you got change for a hundred…?”

 

 

I was flippin ripped off I tell you! And the size of the lolly! Half the size of the lollies they were selling on that exact beach one year ago!

I swear next time I’m taking my own grenedilla lollies. I’ll make myself jolly from now on thank you very much.

Forty ront for two flippin grenedilla lollies, bloody country’s falling apart.

And they wonder why everyone’s moving to Australia. I’ll bet their grenedilla lollies are half the price and three times the size of ours.

-ST