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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I like, where you sleep

This song brings a stupid grin to my face everytime I hear it. It's playng as I type this on teh radio. People in the office are wondering why I'm grinning like a stupid fool.

It's so damn sweet. The video also kicks serious ass.



Hellogoodbye - "Here (In Your Arms)"

When you are the one, the one that lies close to me.
Whispers "Hello, I've
missed you quite terribly."
I fell in love, in love with you
suddenly.
That there's no place else I could be but here in your arms.

I like,
Where you sleep,
When you sleep,
Next to me.
I like,
Where you sleep;
Here.

Cause our lips,
Can touch,
And our cheeks,
Can brush.
Our lips,
Can touch;
Here

They were featured on The Real Life - Austin (killa show by the way). When they had to hook something up for SXSW.

Speaking of which, there's just something about reality TV shows. I thinks it's the fascination with peeking into strangers' lives and getting to know how people live their daily lives that appeals to me. I've been a fan of Survivor, The Amazing Race, The X Effect, The Apprentice, and that other one where a bunch of guys fight the natives, [...I forget what it's called now] you name it, I've watched it. Probably. Be reasonable in your naming.

I'm loving Miami Ink at the moment. Considering my undying fascination with tattoos. It really fils that tatt gap. :P

I even got my aunt hooked onto Big Brother Africa (the first one), and now everyime they make a new one, she let's me know. How cool is that. I got my eldest cousin hooked on Flava of Love. He also couldn't get enough of it. At the end of every episode, he would ask when the next episode was. Good stuff. I'm a bad influence. LOL!

I love it (reality TV and the song... bonus if they have the song in a reality TV show... i.e. The Real Life!!).

I can die a happy man.

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Open invite - birthday bash!

This is an open invitation to anyone and everyone who's reading this!

You are invited to my birthday party!!

That's right. You are invited.

There's no way I'm gonna be outdone by Mandela. I've decided to throw the mother of all parties. And it's gonna continue till May 2009. Yes. 2009. Who knows I might just extend it to 2010, just before the FIFA World Cup.

Why not? If he can have birthday concerts and parties and stuff since June, why can't I?

I swear it seems like almost everyone who tries to get people to come to their concert or whatever, they just change the name a bit to something like 'The Mandela's 90th Birthday Charity 46664 Nelson Mandela Foundation Party' and that's a month AFTER his birthday. And I'm pretty sure the guy doesn't even know half these people who keep throwing parties left-right-and-centre in his name.

So in light of the above... I've decided to do the same.

So check your inboxes people. The party will be held at an undisclosed location. At a predetermined date and time.

Peace!

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The tour [part 1] - Number Four

Ok, as promised...

I went and did it.

There're six main sections to the Constitution Hill.
Namely:

• Constitution Square,
• Old Fort,
• Women's Jail,
• Constitutional Court,
• Great African Steps, and
• Number Four.

So I went and explored Number Four today.

Number four was basically a prison where political prisoners and other "criminals" (I put that in inverted commas because most of them were arrested for refusing to carry their passbooks and marching - like Mahatma Ghandi for instance.)

Prisoners where treated in extremely inhumane ways, where they were severely punished and beaten for meaningless things (at times a 1 prisoner would be beaten by all the wardens in the prison). They were subjected to strip searches. The Black prisoners were strip searched by Black warders. They were made to do degrading things like open their rectums so the warders could see if they had smuggled anything in. Notoriously known as the Tauza dance.

While there were some white prisoners as well. They were treated like royalty. They never ate the same food more than 2 days in a row (unlike Black prisoners), they had a menu from which to choose what they wanted to eat; they were given pillows, pillow cases, bedspreads, a slim mattress, 3 blankets, etc. Basically anything they needed to make their stay as comfortable as possible. Whereas the black people were only given 3 blankets. That's it. 3 blankets.

Anyway...

As I continue on my pursuit of education; I've seen how the old system was treating our black brethren. And it sickens me that today's prisoners demand they have DSTv installed in their cells. WHAT THE FUCK FOR? I don't even have DSTv! I work 40hrs a week, and I still don't have it. It's bad enough that I have money deducted from my salary every month to pay for your daily meals, now you wanna take that money and pay up your DSTv subscription? WHY?
Even the fact that they have TVs to begin with pisses me the fuck off. They're there to be punished for the wrongs they have inflicted upon society.
The Black prisoners at Number Four had done nothing wrong. Most of what they did was deemed illegal because of the fucked up apartheid system. Sucks that the youth of today wanna use prison as some sort of recreational center instead of what it was meant to be... an institution put in place to rehabilitate them. And yet most up-and-coming criminals aspire to be sent to prison because they'll at least get to watch TV and get some drugs while they're at it.

Shit is fucked up!

article: DSTV in jail

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