Posts Tagged ‘raining


Where is the sun?

Is it just me, or did Joburg not used to be an altogether sunnier fucking place than it has been over the last few years?

I don’t remember summers being like this when I was a kid. I remember sweltering hot days and brief afternoon cloud bursts that started at 4 and were done by 5, leaving clear skies in their wake and that fresh feeling that comes after summer rain.

For the last two weeks all it’s done here is rain and I’ve had just about enough of it. I mean, for fucks sake, PLEASE can we have some sunshine? I think I’m getting some kind of seasonal cabin fever here, another week of this grey, rainy shit and I’ll be smashing through the doors with an axe screaming ‘Here’s Johnny!’.



Would you like to know what I did today? Ok… are you sure? Jeeze, how bored are you? It’s Saturday, you shouldn’t even be here – go outside and throw a frisbee or something. Oh wait, I forgot it’s PISSING DOWN WITH FUCKING RAIN OUTSIDE.


I got up early and dragged my sleepy ass to the gym to sweat some blood for awhile, then I came back home did domestic stuffs like washing dishes and shit like that, shopped for some groceries with J-Rab, made lunch, had a 15 person orgy with a pile of pure Colombian cocaine and Russian strippers (oh good, you’re still awake. Just checking) and then had an afternoon nap.

It’s been chilled.

What you been up to?



The politics of pulling a sickie

I woke up today opened the curtains and seriously considered drinking a shot of drain cleaner to avoid actually going to work. It’s still grey and rainy in Joburg and lemme tell you, nobody is impressed.



Can we have some sunshine please? Is that too much to ask? It’s supposed to be summer – you call this fucking summer? I want my money back. This is bullshit.

On days like today you wish you’d pulled a sickie, and not just any kind of sickie, I’m talking epic sickie here, I’m talking not getting out of bed until lunchtime sickie, but you didn’t do that did you?

No, you pussied out, and now here you are, reading my blog instead of working and wishing you’d had the stones to pick up the damn phone and, in your best ‘moments away from death’ voice tell your boss, ‘I can’t come to work today, I’m sick.’

‘Well, how sick are you?’ your boss would have asked.

‘Well, I just fucked my sister,’ you’d calmly reply. ‘How sick is that?’

Sorry, I couldn’t resist. I saw the gap and just went for it. This blog in no way endorses sister fucking, we aren’t apes for chrissake.



It’s ok though, I fully understand why you didn’t take this course of action, it’s because we all adhere to a societal contract that binds us to doing all manner of shit we really don’t want to by using the most powerful motivator mankind has ever come up with.


That one small, single syllable word is the lube that greases the system and makes sure we don’t wander too far off the beaten path.

Think about it – the second a co-worker phones in sick, what’s the first thing that goes through your mind? Cause the first thing that goes through mine is ‘Sure, whatever. He’s not sick, the big faker, the big softie, he’s probably already on his third beer by now, screw him!’



And in that way, I keep the cycle alive. Aarrgghh! The irony!

So I say we change our mindsets when it comes to sickies. I say from now on, we applaud co-workers who are very obviously pulling a sickie and we start a culture of caring and understanding that extends so far that ‘not feeling like working’ will eventually be a legitimate excuse for not rocking up at work.

And what a wonderful world that would be 🙂

Aaaannnyyyyyway, I guess I’d better get some work done.

Take care now. Same time tomorrow? You bet your ass 😉



5 things that going back to work today is better than

If you live in South Africa, specifically Johannesburg, and today is your first day back at work after an amazing and relaxing holiday, please believe me when I say I feel your pain.

To add insult to injury it’s also grey and pissing down with rain here in Joeys. It’s one of those mornings when all you want to do is burrow deep under the blankets and tell the world to fuck right off.

And so I decided to spread a little cheer and write a humorous post on ‘10 things that going back to work today is better than’, but I couldn’t think of that many things. Five is fine – enjoy 🙂

Thing No. 1 – A Full Frontal Lobotomy

Sure, you may think your job is mind-numbing, but until you’ve had the neural connections severed to and from your prefrontal cortex, you have no idea what mind-numbing truly is.

Lobotomies were a popular way of dealing with loonies in the 1940s and 50s, because basically the procedure turned them from complete maniacs into mindless zombies and therefore made them much easier to control.



Problem was, the procedure was deemed too expensive and needed to be carried out by neurosurgeons, thus making it largely unfeasible in state mental hospitals, where it was needed most.

And so an entirely different kind of lobotomy was devised, whereby the patient’s upper eyelid was lifted and the point of a thin surgical instrument inserted against the top of the eyesocket.

A mallet was then used to drive the instrument through the thin layer of bone behind the eyeball and into the brain where it was swept from side to side, mashing the patients frontal lobe good and proper. This was then repeated in the other eyesocket.

So yeah, work might suck today, but man up! It’s better than having your brains smooshed around like lumpy mashed potatoes. Fact.


Thing No. 2 – Being One Of Frank Zappa’s Children

For the uninitiated, Frank Vincent Zappa was an American songwriter, producer and director who was really, really um, how do I put this? Fucking weird.



The poor dude was quite a sickly child and suffered frequently from asthma, earaches and sinus problems, which his doctor treated by prescribing radium pellets, and no, he didn’t swallow them, he was told to insert a pellet into each nostril and just kinda walk around like that.

Whether or not that lead to his boundless eccentricity remains unknown, but the guy recorded over 50 albums in his brief 52 years on this planet and had a killer sense of humour, which not only extended into his art, but also into the names he gave his four children: Moon Unit (his first daughter), Dweezil (his first son), Ahmet Emuukha Rodan (his second son) and Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen (which I presume was his second daughter)

So yeah, your day today might be sucking, but if your name was Diva Thin Muffin Pigeen, your entire life would suck.

Feeling better yet?


Thing No. 3 – Suffocating in 200 pounds of poop

It is a universal fact that bosses are largely full of shit, but they’re nowhere near as full of shit as, say, a constipated elephant.

This discovery proved to be the last that German zookeeper Friedrich Riesfeldt would ever make after he fed his constipated elephant friend Stephan 22 doses of animal laxative, followed by an entire bushel of high fibre berries, figs and prunes.

Amazingly, this didn’t have any effect on Stephan so Riesfeldt, concerned for the welfare of his elephant pal, then administered an olive oil enema and bada bing, bada bang! Result!



Stephan trumpeted loudly and released 200 pounds of clogged elephant poop like a cannon blast from his rear end, the sheer force of which knocked Riesfeldt to the floor where he was promptly buried alive in the grateful animal’s turd.

Game over. Bleew, bleew, bleeeewwww.

So the next time your boss shits on you, just be glad he’s not an elephant with the business end of his poop chute aimed squarely in your face.


Thing No. 4 – Waking up from a kickass drinking binge to find you’ve been buried alive

How crazy is this – back in the 1500s people used to drink ale and whiskey out of lead cups and the combination of the alcohol and the lead would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days, during which time their vital signs barely registered.

Typically these people would then be laid out on the kitchen table in their homes for a couple of days during which time the  family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a ‘wake’.

At around this time in England they started running out of space to bury people and so they would dig up coffins and reuse the graves, which lead to a startling discovery.

One in twenty-five coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside of them from people who were being buried alive. One in twenty-five!


How much does that suck? One minute you’re out gettin’ wizasted with your cronies and the next you wake up in a coffin, snug, warm and buried six feet under the earth’s surface.

All the scratching in the world ain’t gonna save you from that.


Thing No. 5 – You could be a barnyard masturbator

Yeah, apparently people like this actually exist. The basic job description is collecting animal semen from various farm animals to help them reproduce.

As a barnyard masturbator your tools of the trade include an electric probing device to stimulate God knows what, fake rubber vaginas and bucket loads of lube.



The plus side of a job this rad is the awesome cocktail-party conversations it would definitely lead to.

‘I’m the head of a successful private banking firm and just bought a 60-ft luxury yacht, anchored off the coast of Barbados, and you?’

‘I jerk animals off.’

‘Hm, you… what?’

‘Sure. I mean there I was, fresh out of highschool, not really knowing what to do with my life when I happened upon a lonely stray dog one day with his lipstick out and one thing kinda lead to another…’




So there you have it! I hope I’ve made you feel better about your day. Now go do some work, that agitated bull ain’t gonna jerk itself off 😉



Site Overhaul Initiating… beep… fail

Today looked different in my head.

It started with me waking up before 9.30, making a killer breakfast with bacon and eggs and sausages and fried tomatoes and mushrooms cooked slowly in butter, freshly squeezed cold orange juice, toast from homemade bread, more jam than you could shake a stick at.



Can you taste that? Fahk.

After that I was going to take J-Rab somewhere away from here, away from all the cement and asphalt. We were going to drive, far out there and find a place where the two of us could be alone, there would be a river there we could drink out of, we’d spread a blanket out under some trees, pop a bottle of champagne, drink it out of crystal flutes and eat expensive sandwiches, the ones from Woolies.

We’d look up at the sky through the leaves and see big ‘ol lazy birds circling overhead, riding thermals for kicks.



We’d drive back home just before sunset, the warm feeling of the sun still on our skin, and we’d be happy, our heads fuzzy from the champagne, and we would want nothing, nothing else from this life except for everything we had already.

It would be raining as we fell asleep.

Instead we got up sometime after 10 and tidied the flat until 2. We went to Sandton City, I exchanged a shirt J-Rab got me for a better one and we came back home.

And all the while, these dreams kept coming back to me from last night. In one I was preparing for war, and when it broke I was unstoppable. They sent me in there armed with a giant machete, and I hacked the shit out of anything in my path. Problem was, it was my own ranks I was hacking my way through.




In another dream I dreamed this girl I know appeared in Playboy magazine and had a horizontal instead of vertical vagina. As in, not up and down but left to right. Freud would love me.

Then my brother called from Australia where he’s just moved and we talked for about an hour. It was good to make contact again, I think it’s been about 6 months or more since we spoke last. He’s a good man, my brother and he’s living a good life over in Oz. I really hope I can visit him sometime soon.

My day got better from that point and the evening has been pretty damn awesome. J-Rab cooked us up an amazing stir-fry and I rented the new Star Trek movie to watch, which I really, really enjoyed and I would encourage everyone to watch, doesn’t matter if you’re a sci-fi freak or not, it’s a great action movie and the script is rock solid.



Now I’m watching Alexander on E-TV and thinking man-o-man Rosario Dawson has a great rack, it’s pretty much the best thing about the entire movie. Something about Colin Farrell makes me want to punch him in the face when I see him in some movies, same is true for Jared Leto (yet another reason why I fucking love Fight Club. What Edward Norton does to Leto’s face in that movie? Yeah, I’ve wanted to do that for years).

But anyway, the overhaul of this site never happened. I’m sorry. I know you’re heartbroken. Please, let me make it up to you with this great pic of Rosario Dawson I just found…



All good? Great 🙂

I will say one thing about today though, it may not have started like I wanted it to, but it’s raining slow and heavy outside, so at least it’s going to end the way I hoped it would.

Ain’t that wonder 😉