SA gets Maxwell'd

Living in Gauteng sucks sometimes.

Turns out Maxwell is coming to SA, and the best thing about it all is that he'll be performing in my hometown - Bloemfontein - this Friday.

What sucks the most is that I wont be able to go see him. I'll be stuck here in the Big Smoke instead of going home and the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see one of my favourite neo-soul singers perfom live!

I know most when most artists come to SA they rarely ever go anywhere else except the 3 main cities ie. Joburg, Cape Town & Durban. But I'm never interested in seeing 50 Cent or Snoop Dogg or any of those people that have made coming here a habit. They're not relevant to my interests. Maxwell, on the other hand, is.

So, if anyone happens to be at MACUFE this Friday, please take some pics and email them my way. the address is: papercut [at] brainstormdesigns [dot] co [dot] za.

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I'm a dreamer...

There's just so many things I would like to do and achieve in my life that I feel like everything else is just a continuous procrastination.

I wanna do things. Create stuff. Design captivating graphics/website/whatever. Engaging creations. So much. I wanna see my stuff being featured on magazines. On randome websites. I wanna know more than I do now. I wanna learn stuff. I wanna teach myself stuff. I wanna see exactly how far I can get as an individual. As young as I am. I feel like I haven't achieved enough. I want more. I'm not greedy, I'm just hungry for knowledge.

And it seems like everyday a new dream pops up. Every chance I get, a new idea crosses my mind and leaves behind its indelible footprints which bother me non-stop. I've got so many things lined up in my head, I wonder if my time on this Earth will be long enough for me to achieve them all. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to work 8 hours a day so I can realise my dreams.

There's just so much I want to accomplish before I reach my death. I'm not being morbid or anything, I'm just being real about things. We all know we're gonna all perish one day. None of us are guaranteed a permanent stay on this planet. Unless you know something he rest of us don't.

I wanna change so many lives. I wanna give so much of me to so many people. People I don't even know. And not in a huge charity event involving sponsorships and whatever. I wanna help people who are far less fortunate than I have been. Sounds cheezy and I don't care. (Funny I should say this coz I don't even give money to beggars. In fact beggars anger me. I don't understand the logic behind someone who'd rather stand at a street corner and beg, rather than work for a sanitation company cleaning bathrooms. Anyway)

I wanna see more of the world. I don't wanna be old and wrinkly at 86 or whatever and only tell be telling my grandkids the same stories about my life in Bloemfontein & Pretoria. I want them to look forward to visiting me so I can keep them entertained with my stories of seeing the world. The experiences. The people. The atmosphere.

I can never stop dreaming. I don't want it to stop. It's one of those things I do best.

"Happy are those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

A friend once said that to me (damn, just remembered, it was her birthday on the 21st of August. Crap. Forgot to call her. Damn!).

We were chilling at her place a few years ago and I was telling her about where I see myself in the future and what I want to achieve etc. And what she said has stayed with me since that day. I believe in it completely. If I don't believe in the beauty of my own dreams, then who will?

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Tecnology's drawbacks

Using cellphones in arguments is pretty much inane.

I'd rather you call me on my cellphone if you really wanna pick a fight with me. Coz with cellphones, all I can really do is press that red button and then the call's ended. It kinda makes the fight lose it's pizzaz. It missed that extra angry handset bang.

You know, the one where you just throw the damn handset onto the rest of the phone (I dunno what it's called... sue me!). You simply end the conversation with silence. That's not good enough.

If you really wanna hear how angry I am. I'll call you from my office landline. Then just as you try to talk your way out of it. I'll bang the damn phone in your damn ear.

That's the way Graham Bell intended it to be.

:P

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White people need a proper hero!

I'm sick and tired of this crap.



First of all, I don't think some white people even know the real meaning of the word 'hero'. To be quite honest neither do I. Let's face it, 'hero' isn't neccessarily one of those words you'd look up in a dictionary. You just go through life assuming you know what it means.



Hero. Come on. It's pretty straight forward. Hero: the guy who runs into a burning building to save his daughter's favourite doll. Now there's a hero. He doesn't have to save his favourite item in the house, he saves the one thing he knows means something to another person. You get the idea. Good.



Then comes this guy... Vernon Koekemoer. Yes, Vern The Man. He does the most heroic thing evar! (that's right evAr) The heroic of all heroes. Oh yeah. He goes to a rave festival thingy (with a very original name: H20) and does the unthinkable. Poses for a photo for some viral marketting scheme. Yes. That's pretty much all he did. Next thing you know, he's everyfuckingwhere...

• http://ramboguy.co.za/


• and this one


• more here...

All this stemming from a few shots of a guy with waist-high tennis shorts.

Turns out he was just a regular oke, who decided he needed a good time and went to the rave. Can't remember what his real name is though, I think he's 52 or something... Granted the marketting strategy worked. And I have absolutely nothing against that.

Anyway this post is not about good ol' Vern, it's about this guy...

There I am, chilling on an easy weekday listening to The Fresh Drive (5fm) and they just so happen to be having the special guest... Mr Koekemoer himself in the studio. So I'm thinking "O hell yeah, I wanna know stuff about this guy".

Cool, so they introduce him and they basically explain how the whole thing unfolded (him becoming famous and all). Good, now I know the basics. Then it's time for the phone calls. And white people are calling in like flippin maniacs. They're so "stocked" to be talking to him, and that Fresh has brought him into the studio, they can't even ask proper questions... around the end of the show. Some two idiots (two separate callers) call in and can't shut up about how much a hero Vern is. They on some...

Ja, howzit Vern, listen ey Vernon, you're like my flippin hero ey!

I'm like, wat!? Hero? Haibo! How now?

And this is like a looong time ago. Around Feb or something. And this whole 'hero' thing seems to have spread everyfuckingwhere. Since that guy called into the show, only thereafter did I realise how much white people like saying: "you're my hero". Not in the sarcastic or whatever way. And I'm not talking about people who've actually done anything heroic, I'm talking here aboout regular people. Like people who just pose in photos. Just like Vern the Hero.

I think white people need proper heroes. Sorta like black people have so many heroes. And I mean real heroes. I would hate to hear a black kid say they don't have a hero. Alive or dead. Most black people I know, look up to their family members as heroes. Yes, even those with brothers in jail and whatever.

With our history most black people alive today, especially those who died at the hands of the previous government, are our heroes as black South Africans.

But considering the way whites were living pre-94, I doubt they actually have anybody to look up to in a good light. What can they honestly say they have done to better the lives of white people today?

White people need a hero. ASAP.

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I don't undersand why some stores here in SA market the Keffiyeh as women's scarves?

I guess that explains the weird looks I've been getting for wearing mine.

Most people seem to be of the belief that everything that closely resembles anything feminine is indeed feminine. But it's really not. As a matter of fact. The Keffiyeh is traditionally ONLY worn by men. Strictly. Women wear other stuff. For women. Not Keffiyehs.

Crap.

Sucks when you wanna expand your wardrobe and the lady standing behind the counter gives you funny looks when you're eyeing one of the items on display - and it just happens to be a Keffiyeh.

I saw a manniken all dolled up in one - a female one nogal. I felt the urge to educate people but just decided against it. If they think it looks pretty on a female manniken (I'm sure there's one word for that); then I guess there's very little a single entity like myself can do about it.

If they wanna market it as a female accessory then fine. I'll still wear mine!

I guess people don't really care about the significance or meaning behind wearing it. But it's okay.

:P

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Money maker

Mr. Money

I've recently decided I'm gonna start making dollar bills. The interest rate is killing me, maybe I can get a real deal from the Rand/USD exchange rate.

Yeah.

:P

go here...

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I had no idea!

WOW!

Just checked my stats page on my website and noticed that I got some hits from this website. So, out of curiousity, I followed the link to see who it was that came from that site, only to find that it was some sort of design blog that outlines different design styles like the colours to use etc.

And as I scroll down on the archives page.

BAM! There it is. In all its glory, under the title... Black & Red Websites. I like it.

Whoever the site belongs to... thanks for recognising my site. Kudos to you buddy!

:P

Feels good don't it?!

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Definition of self

It seems Facebook is providing me with great material. Me likey.

Anyways...

Why are we defined not by our character but by our posessions? Our acquisitions.

Why can't I just be me? Why do I have to be Mxolisi, the guy who wears specs? Why? Granted it's probably because people see the material stuff before knowing the real person behind those specs.

But it extends even further. Let's say, for argument's sake, *Sbu Mpato buy a red GTI (considering how many of those already are in circulation) and you also happen to have a chipped front tooth. Somehting that has been your unique identifier for as long as you can remember. Have a couple of people know you're now a proud owner of a red VW Golf GTI then all of a sudden the chipped tooth takes the back seat.
You are no longer the guy with the chipped tooth, you're now Sbu The Red GTI Guy. It becomes who you are. It's no longer what you happen to own, apart from your great personality and the jokes you normally tell to get the ladies grinning. You're now the Red GTI Guy. Even after you change the car a few years later, trust me... you're still Sbu The Red GTI Guy.

Even if you get mugged and get robbed of all your clothes (you were just taking a stroll to a nearby neighbourhood on a fine summer night - they came out of nowhere). It's still "The Red GTI Guy" got robbed and was running naked across the hood. Seldom will you hear people say "Did you hear Sbu got attacked?" or "There was a naked guy running past here the other day". You have to be defined by what you have/had.

This is the way soceity is, and there's a pretty much not gonna change anytime soon.

Apart from being defined by material things. You also get defined by the bad thing that you did a good 6 years ago. Or even last night.

Nobody cares that you saved an old lady about to get hit by a truck while crossing the road. What they care about is the fact that you happened to scrap your best friend's new Lambo a few days after having bought it.

Sad really.

Why is that though...?



C'est la vie

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Just a thought...

Help me out here...

All I need you to do is help me out a little bit.

I need you to do two things... 1. Think of Scotland. Ok. Are you done? Great.

Now lemme see if I can correctly guess the Scotland you had in your head for those few short seconds.

It's probably the Scotland where there's men wearing kilts and knee-high white socks... right? Or maybe you even had some Scottish whisky clouding your vision. No one knows for sure except you. But that's not the point I'm trying to make here.

My main concern is not what you were thinking. I know. Shocking. I'm more interested in what you were not thinking.

Yes, what you were NOT thinking.

Here's what I was thinking... I was asking myself...

How come there are no women in Scotland?

Don't look at me as if I'm strange or something. You know I'm right. There're very few women in Scotland. If any.

I have never even heard a Scottish accent done by a female voice. Never. Not ever.

The first thing people (you included) think about when it comes to Scotland is the dress-wearing men, bag pipes, the Lochness, and maybe whisky. Never the hot sexy women of the Scottish highlands (if there are any - I stand to be corrected). Never. I bet you 300 000 Zim Dollars.

I don't think women like their men wearing skirts in public. Maybe they go in hiding, or migrate to neighbouring countries like Finland or Amsterdam (NB: I have absolutely no idea how near or far these countries are from Scotland. I'm just saying. Don't use this in your University thesis. You WILL fail.)

Anyway...

I think either the women have turned lesbian just so they can also get some recognition (by wearing skirts) from the rest of the world.

And it seems Google is in agreement with me. [click here] It seems all the women have taken up manly sports to get some sort of sense of identity considering the fact that the men seem to have completely overshadowed their existence. hence my (and maybe yours too) thinking that there are no women in Scotland.

:P

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Bin Laden Day - WTF?

OK, so somebody decides to recruit some turban-wearing idiots, and convices them they should master the skill of hijacking aircraft so they can crash into some landmark buildings. And these turban-wearing idiots agree.

Right, so over some months (or maybe even years) these guys decide they should execute this master plan. They manage to buy plane tickets on United Airlines headed to New York. Get on the plane. Sit thought the long flight, then with only a few more minutes to spare before the plane lands, they decide to take over and hijack the plane so they can seal the deal.

All this in the name of Allah/Jihad/Holy-War or whatever lame excuse they agreed to call it.

A total of 3 buildings get damaged, loads of innocent people lose their lives. People who most probably have absolutely no influence or input on whatever war was going on between the US and its enemies.
People who were merely trying to provide a better life for their families and those closely related to them.

Based on all this, I only have two fairly simple questions.

1. Why didn't the people hijacking the planes rather crash into the White House or only the Pentagon?
2. If these Middle Eastern countries are so rich from oil mining and so on... why then did they not build or even buy their own aircraft and go crash into whatever? Why still claim so many innocent lives in the process of claiming others?

Next thing the day is 'commemorated' as Bin Laden day or whatever. Though this is not the official name, it seems to have taken quite a liking to the ill-informed.
Why do have to give props to such criminal behavior? (does behavior have a 'u' ?)

Though the day is now been observed as Peace Day in some circles. Still not too sure if that's the official name for it or not. But anyways...

I know we can't keep talking about these things 7 years after they have happened, but I just wanted to get this off my chest.

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Socially speaking

Let's get right into it.

After some active participation on the social network, I've come to the realisation that Facebook is a total waste of time.

You have a large number of people you've only seen pictures of, and somehow ended up adding them as a 'friend' because they were recommended to you. Come on. In real life, stuff like this doesn't happen. Have you ever actually had a friendship recommended to you? No really. Think of it. Picture this... you're hanging with your friends, and then all of a sudden... out of nowhere, this one friend of yours mention that you should probably be friends with his/her other very good friend? Come on. Who does that?

I think the whole "social network" revolution has taken away from the human factor in a lot of things. For example... you no longer have to worry about missing your favourite band's performance, you can just YouTube it and watch it during your lunch hour. No sweat.

I'm no expert, but I think more and more people are spending time "social networking" than actually physically socialising. With other human beings.

We've become so swallowed up by the whole digitally connected that we're losing the human touch in a lot of things. I think as much as technology has come with a whole world of possibilities, it's also brought with it it's drawbacks.

Granted these networks somehow get people in touch and whatnot, but still. Would it kill you to actually go meet your friends than "meeting" every other day on Facebook?

Another something... I have around 56 friends on Facebook. 90% of whom I don't even know. People I've never even met. Not once. Of the 56, I probably only speak to 5 or 7 of them. The rest are either people I've "met" online. People I know nothing about. Except that we happen to be part of the same "social" circle.

anyways...

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ships of relation

It's funny how when girls finally find the "right" guy. One who doesn't cheat on them. Doesn't call them a bitch (unless per lady's horny request). Doesn't disrespect her. Treats her like heaven. Buys her whatever she wants. Takes her wherever she wants (Cloud 9 included). Gives her all the love in the world... all these things andnothing less.

And yet she still finds a need to fuck things up.

One way or another. Either she wants to do something to see if he's the touchy obsessive over protective don't-look-at-nobody-else kinda guy or he's basically all she's getting. (see above) And whole-heartedly so.

For some reason, women still find a reason to suspect you of some shit. SO I guess the reasoning behind it becomes... a "lemme hurt him before he hurt me" scenario. Either because "I've been hurt too many times before" has become their motto in life. Or simply because they feel the guy wont go anywhere. He's too good to leave. Too good to let go. (read: not too good to let go of me, but too good to be let go of)

I really don't get it.

Granted, the same can be said about most men and rightfully so. Most men are fucking idiots. The kinda idiots whoe give the rest of the male population a bad name. Even the chimpanzees.

But that's not what this is about. This is about the female side of things.

Why is that?

Why is it so hard for women to just accept that the guy they're with are just that good. (again... see 1st para.). And for absolutely no reason except that they feel that somehow you. Yes, you! Could be the one they've been waiting on. The one they're pretty much willing to give up all the shit they used to do before you came along. The one they're willing to even turn teir back on their closest closest friends. The one they are willing to even cancel a trip out of town simply because they can't even imagine the thought of them not being with you. You know... the one. The one you used to dream about while you ex was treating you like dog shit. The one you've pictured all along. You know the one. You've spent countless days carving out how he would be.
Then when he finally walks into your life, you decide he's too good to be real. So you now have the security of "the one" and you start doing all the things that were done to you at some point in your life.

Why should this be?

anyways, I gotta go... I have a train to catch.

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Google me baby!

For some reason, somebody was busy Google-ing me. Yes... Google-ing. That's a word. Google-ing. Get used to it.

Now, where was I...?

Oh yes... beeing Google'd (Yes, that's also a word, don't start with me!)

Somebody, for some unknown reason.. has been Google-ing me. Don't ask me how I know, I'm just 1337 like that.

I don't have anything against being Google'd just that it's really got me curious - who in their right mind would want to google me? And take the time and energy to actively follow the link Google kicked back? Why? Why do you wanna keep tabs on me? Who are you? How is it possible that you know - and correctly spell - my name and surname?

While pondering these life-changing questions... there's only one person I could think of. And at the same time it left me even more confused.

Why are you Google-ing me?

Why don't you just call me (don't forget to hide ID this time), keep quiet and hang up like you used to? At least then I know for sure that it's you. You know?
So... since you managed to find me (or my blog rather) via Google, I think it's only fair that you don't stop there... tell your friends about me.

Tell 'em to Google me baby!

Here's a thought:


What comes up when you Google yourself? I know it's a sign of vanity, but really, try it. Google yourself just as you Google'd me. See what comes up. Then Google me again; this time using my full names (I'm sure you're familiar with them by now?). See what comes up now? I'm sure you'll realise there's an obvious difference between you and I. Google knows me. On the other hand... Google has no clue who you are. Oh... does it suggest other names you could be looking for? Or does it simply give you the 'Your search did not return any documents ' error?

Anyway, thanks for the time you invested in Google-ing for me, and thanks even more for clicking on that link and reading my blog.

You should leave a comment or something, so that I know you were here.

Bye.

Thanks again.

ps: in case you think I Google'd myself... no. I live in Pretoria but work in Johannesburg. And all my proxy is actually in the next room, so it can't be me. And the proxy at my previous employer is in Cape Town, so...

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