Planet-Earth-101, an ignoramus guide

8 Mar

Don’t you think it’s funny how you can walk around assuming certain things as fact? Just the other day I assumed that babies are born without nipples?! It’s not like I sit up at night concocting stuff like that, in fact I have honestly never really thought about babies and what they are or are not born with.

And it doesn’t stop there. I have no idea where Cyprus is on a map! I also am not really clear about our South African political leaders. And, while I’m embarrassing myself, I don’t think I know how to spell necessary, necessary, necessary?

Who said ignorance is bliss? Seriously? I need to know.

The plan is to stop, look around and start paying attention to some of the facts that I’ve been missing.

You’ll be right there with me on my Planet-Earth-101 mission, of course. Don’t worry; I’ll make it fun. I too have a very short attention span.

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A Scary Christmas Canter

13 Dec

scary-christmas

Have you ever noticed how you slip into a dormant coma as a preamble to the Christmas season? I am completely fixated on the holidays. I don’t think I’ve had an original thought for days. It’s all I talk about and everything I do seems to have an under current of festive foreboding.

I lurk in dark corners waiting for the right moment to leap out and start up a conversation about going to the beach. I’m even detoxing to prepare for the binge drinking and excess. My Google searches can be narrowed down to “screaming goats” and “Cathy sings Way ho” And I’m seriously considering getting a spray tan because my office legs are going to hold me back considerably. I know, a spray tan!

I’m basically a Christmas zombie, full of decaying clichés and fake plastic trees. Next thing you know I’ll break out into a Mariah Carey song and loose all credibility once and for all. If I don’t make it out of this slow canter to the end, you can have my Nico Vega CDs.

Knit one, pearl two

22 Nov

When I was younger (like, last week sometime) I used to L.O.V.E waxing lyrical about how time was messing with me. I was fully involved with the notion that the clock was ticking and I was in a race to the D.E.A.T.H. As unoriginal as all this may seem, it gets worse. I even wrote a love song titled TIME, where I threw in phrases like, “Time has taken over me, tick tock and you’re over me.” Sigh.

What I failed to realize was that it’s not time that’s sucking the rainbows out of my dreams. You see, I suffer pretty severely from life ADHD. I keep jumping all over the place, trying my hand at different passion projects and hoping one of them will explode into a dream-come-true calling. You seriously need to be patient with stuff. I’ve come across enough dreamers to see that the ones that succeed stick it out.

Now that I am another year older (yes it was my birthday last Friday, thanks for remembering) I am obviously so much wiser. I know that if I don’t want to be cold next winter, I need to start and finish knitting that scarf. You know what I’m saying? Knit one, pearl too.

Seriously, it’s a mantra.

Attack of the killer pumpkins

1 Nov

Why, oh why, is South Africa not all caught up in the helter-skelter of Halloween? Some kids knocked on my door yesterday in not-so-scary, well, maybe-a-bit-scary-because-they-were-crap Halloween costumes and I was totally not prepared for them!  All I had was a half a loaf of bread and some mixed nuts.

Now, I know we were all out in fancy dress this weekend, but did we stop to think about the children? Did we go stock up on pumpkins and sugary treats? No.

South Africa has a long history of letting kids down on this gloriously ghoulish “holiday”. Case in point, my very first Halloween at the tender age of 9. Me and some kids from my neighborhood were wrapped up in toilet paper and tomato sauce and prodded into the back of a bakkie. We drove around for a couple of hours knocking on the doors of a suburb that was not properly prepared. No one had treats and if I’m honest, our costumes didn’t really deserve much attention.

So next year I am going to go out and buy a couple pumpkins and turn my house into a Haunted House of Horrors. Never again will the poor defenseless South Africa kids suffer a bland and half arsed Halloween. Who’s coming with me!

Cartoons in the flesh

29 Sep

These are some of my favourite cartoon characters and what they would look like in real life. I can’t take a single bit of credit for these works of art, but I saved them onto my desktop and slotted them into this post so that you all could see them. Please, hold your applause and rather conserve your energy for the cartoons in the flesh.


Slick Tiger used to date my ma

13 Sep

I’ve decided to interview people I find interesting using song lyrics. Now, this is a surround sound kind of experience. So to have any hope of picking up on what I am putting out there, you’ll need to listen to the actual songs while you’re reading.

The very first one of these is with blogger exxxtrodaire and man about town, Mr Slick Tiger, himself.

I chose the song Going out West by Tom Waits (but I like the Queens of the Stone Age version so that’s what you’re going to listen to)


Well I’m goin’ out west

Where the wind blows tall

‘Cause Tony Franciosa

Used to date my ma

Miss Copasetic: You weren’t always the man tiger we know and love. Tell us what it was like for you as a cub in this crazy, Wild West of a blog o’ sphere.

Slick Tiger: The blog o’ sphere is a daunting place for fledgling cubs because you have to fight tooth and nail to get people to give a shit and a lot of new bloggers don’t have the stones to tough it out.

All I did in the beginning was post every day, and reading back on that material it was really crap. My posts were long, rambling and self-involved, kinda like “Dear Diary” entries written by a belligerent drunk.

Then, after a particularly hectic session in the gym one evening, “The Slick Tiger Guide To Klapping Gym Boet” came to me in a roid-fuelled, tight-vested, self-tanned vision and overnight Slicky-T changed from being a nobody to a name spoken in hushed whispers in gyms the entire country over.

They got some money out there

They’re giving it away

I’m gonna do what I want

Do what I want

And I’m gonna get paid

Miss Copasetic: You’ve been known to accept some free stuff along the way. What’s with that?

Slicky T: Free stuff is an incidental plus of blogging that you’d be an idiot not to accept.

After all the blood I sweat for the site, it’s really gratifying to get free drops from time to time.

Some of my readers think I’m a sell-out for the punts I give brands on the site, but the majority of my readers are fine with it because at the moment, maybe 10% of the content is me punting brands.

The rest is just as shit-your-pants-mad as it ever was 😉

Little brown sausages

Lying in the sand

I ain’t no extra baby

I’m a leading man

Miss Copasetic: You and your readers share a special bond. Do you have any pet names for your rogue nation of rebel rowsers?

Slick Tiger: Sure do! The rogue nation is growing by the day and I call them “Friends Of The Tiger” or FOTT for short and they are some of the greatest, most wasted minds you could ever hope to meet.

Well my parole officer

WIll be proud of me

With my Olds 88

And the devil on a leash

My Olds 88

And the devil on a leash

Miss Copasetic: The “Tell the Tiger” section of your blog really shows your softer side. Do you feel like you’re making a difference with these posts?

Slick: I definitely was making a difference with the posts, but unfortunately I’ve had to stop “Tell The Tiger” due to the untimely incarceration of one of the people who wrote in, which may or may not have been because of the advice I gave him…

I could go into more detail but my lawyer says it’s probably better if I don’t.

Well I know karate, Voodoo too

I’m gonna make myself available to you

I don’t need no make up

I got real scars

I got hair on my chest

I look good without a shirt

Miss Copasetic: Tell us about scars. What’s the meanest one you have?

Slick Tiger: The meanest one I have I don’t really talk about because I was on a drug and booze-fuelled bender when it happened and I was acting like a fucking retard. The fact that I’m not dead / in a wheelchair is a miracle.

Otherwise my hands are covered in scars (32 stitches) from a car accident, my left elbow is a gigantic scar from when I got thrown headfirst over the handlebars of a bicycle doing about 40 km/h, my left shoulder has a couple of scars from an operation I had to have to fix it after I dislocated it the 5th time and I have a scar above my left eye from a guy who hit me with a bottle because I kissed his girlfriend when I was 15. There are one or two others, but they aren’t as big and I don’t remember how I got them.

Well I don’t lose my composure

In a high speed chase

Well my friends think I’m ugly

I got a masculine face

I got some dragstrip courage

I can really drive a bed

I’m gonna change my name

Miss Copasetic: Any parting words you’d like to leave us with?

Slick Tiger: In this life, it’s better to be a slick willy than a smooth arsehole.

There’s a secret girl language?

5 Sep

Sure, I’ve dabbled in a bit of gibberish in my time. My brother and I even invented a language called Snish Snosh during one particularly tedious family holiday where my parents dragged us around Ireland in search of distant relatives.

As the name suggests, Snish Snosh was full of soft, almost hushed words. Absolutely nothing like the secret girl language featured below. I’m not saying I have regrets about my made up language, but man would it have been cool to belt out some of this stuff and freak the living daylights out of my folks.

How to correctly bang your head against a wall

1 Sep

Debby Downer has just popped in for tea. She’s uninvited of course, but she saw my car parked in the drive way, so I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t home. Now she’s rumbling on about the recession and the weather (it’s raining) and the worst part is that she brought these guys with her and they’re all covered in paint and smiling like fools.

If you haven’t yet quite latched onto my drift, the post-paint-fight-gang and old Debbie D represent all that is wrong with my day. And just as I was about to turn my head to the wall and start a banging, I realised that I don’t know how. So, if like me you’re keen to kill some braincells and little bit of time, here is something for your viewing pleasure. Warning: You may loose precious moments of your life watching this, but at least it’s better than thinking about things like death and taxes.

 

Then this video of grandparents head banging is just down right disturbing, but it made me smile. Is that wrong?

 

Time to save some dolphins

15 Aug

 

It’s the horrible time of year when fisherman start hunting dolphins. Sure, we humans do horrible stuff to each other on a daily basis, but that’s a different argument all together. These beautiful creatures need our help (http://www.takepart.com/thecove). They don’t hesitate to help out when humans are in need.

“In 2004, lifeguard Rob Howes and three others were swimming off the coast of New Zealand. When they were about 300 yards out to sea, several bottlenose dolphins sped toward them, behaving very erratically. Slapping the surface with their fins and diving underneath the swimmers, the dolphins herded the group together by circling them tightly. As Howes peered beneath the water to watch them dive, he realized the dolphins were protecting his group from a great white shark heading straight for them. The dolphins fended off the shark for 40 minutes until the swimmers could safely make it to shore” – The New Zealand Herald, 2004.

 

 

 

 

If I could teleport

4 Aug

I’d go to this year’s Oppikoppi.


According to an article in  Time magazine, scientists aren’t far off! This same article also talks about an invisibility cloak and levitating objects.  So maybe next year I’ll not only get to go my favourite South African festival, but I’ll make my way back stage unseen and be able cure my hangover by levitating the bad stuff out of my liver.

 

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