Posts Tagged ‘jesus


Help The TIger Find A Flat And Win!

Guys, some crazy news.

J-Rab and me are moving out of the wooden shit-shack we’re been living in for the last 8 months in Stellenbosch and are heading into the beautiful sea-side city of Cape Town itself, PRAISE JESUS HALLELULYA!



It hasn’t been easy living out here on this wine farm in Stellies. I mean, people come around to visit the place and they’re all like “Aww, it’s so cosy!” Which pisses us off no end because it’s not fucking cosy, ok?

It’s a fucking hell-hole of sleeplessness, anguish and rats. That’s right, rats. Our shed-of-a-house is infested with large, nasty, fucking smart rats who break in at night and stomp around eating our food like they own the fucking place!

Or at least they used to. Eventually the lack of sleep drove me insane(r) and I bought enough Racumin to poison an army of the fuckers. I then waited for nightfall and crept around in the dark, mumbling incoherent nonsense and giggling under my breath as I lobbed little sachets of the poison under the house and imagined the evil fuckers twitching and writhing uncontrollably while the poison ripped through their central nervous-systems like loose shrapnel.

And don’t even fucking get me started on the owls, Egyptian geese, Anatolian Shepherds, roosters, tractors and other random shit that robs us of our sleep nightly. I mean fuck’s sake, what the fuck did we do to deserve this hellish existence? What?!?!



Sure, it’s rent free. Sure living here is part of J-Rab’s job, but y’know what? They can shove this shack-of-shit, we’re done here. The commute in and out of the city centre where I work is killing me, as is the insomnia and the smell of dead, rotten rats under our floorboards.

Anyway. Enough about that.

So here’s the deal. We need a new place, a nice 1-bedroom, 1-bathroom flat somewhere central in Cape Town with a great garden (communal is fine), a killer view, parking for two cars, a nice kitchen and a robot like they have in The Jetsons to clean the dishes and wash our clothes and stuff.



If you know any friends moving out of a place that fits the bill, fire a mail off to and you could stand the chance to win an official SlickTiger Them’s Fightin’ Words T-shirt that is guaranteed to get you laid.

So don’t delay! Write in now and this amazing T-shirt could be yours! Oh, and I’ll also put up a post about how you are an exceptional human being, cooler than Jesus even.

Fair deal right? 😉

Have a killer weekend.



Dead Chocolate Jesus

Easter. Who’s idea was that anyway? Of all the weird-ass pseudo-religious celebrations that happen, it’s got to be the weirdest by a long fucking way right?

The son of God gets tortured, nailed to a cross, fucking stabbed and left to die, then comes back from the dead three days later like some kind of zombie and we celebrate that fact by eating chocolate rabbits and chickens and marshmallow eggs?

Whatever drugs the person who cooked up Easter was on, I want some.



As a kid I did the whole go to church thing with my parents where I jiggled in my seat a lot and counted down the minutes to when I could finally go back home and eat some more goddamn chocolate goddamnit!

Once at Easter lunch, a distant relative, who was also a reborn Christian (stop reading this if you’re a reborn Christian, this is not the place for you, take your church band somewhere else) explained to us kiddies why Easter eggs are hollow inside.

‘Easter eggs are hollow inside,’ she told us with a big creepy smile on her face, ‘because it SYMBOLISES how when they opened JESUS’ TOMB, they found it EMPTY!’

Really? My nine-year old mind said (even back then I was sceptical of reborns).

‘So would Jesus be inside Easter eggs if they didn’t find the tomb empty?’ I asked, pure and innocent as the driven snow.

‘Why, I don’t know! Maybe!’ she said and then laughed for some unknown reason.

‘Ew!’ I said, ‘I don’t think anyone would eat Easter eggs if there was a dead chocolate Jesus in them.’



Yeah. How about that? Nine fucking years old.

Pity I only got dumber with time.


The administrators of this site would like to apologise on Slick’s behalf as he was unable to finish this post. Jesus, or possibly a reborn Christian, or SOMEONE, decided to smite ol’ Slick for his blasphemy and sent a minion from hell to break into Slick’s car and steal his GPS yesterday.

Hence he had to spend this morning running around trying furiously to get his window fixed before the long weekend, only to arrive back to an unresponsive laptop that was more interested in crashing than actually letting him write a goddamn blog post.

But yeah, he says happy Easter if he doesn’t get to post again.

Now go eat some chocolate and think about what would have happened if they found Jesus.

-The Site Administrator