Friday Ramble 20/01/2006

Good morrow gentle folk of Ramble Land.

I have decided to become a celibate homosexual; it’s not going to require as much of a lifestyle change as you might imagine.



It never ceases to amaze me how music can transport me back through time. It invokes memories better than a photograph. As I write this I am listening to Skid Row. Std 5. Angst-ridden teenage-hood. They had long hair. They swore. The drummer had a chain from his nose-ring to his ear-ring.

You’re standing too close, what the fuck’s with you?
You ain’t my old lady
and you ain’t a tattoo.
No need to wimper, no need to shout.
This party’s
over, so get the fuck out.
Get the fuck out.

Sebastian Bach, the lead singer, is now the older guy in the Chinese chick’s band in Gilmore Girls. The incessant marching of time, man.

I am in fact a big (actually not even that big) baby. Got kicked on the ankle playing football. Cried like a girl. Walked around on crutches for as long as it took for me to realise that I do not possess the required co-ordination. But I did have a semi-legitimate excuse for lying around on the couch all day. I watched Oprah and Sense and Sensibility and cried like the girl that I am.

The Fifth Leg is the greatest place in the whole of Johannesburg. That crazy Ukranian lady is going to kill me one day. She digs us because we are such “fuckink polite guys”. Many apologies to Lol for making her stay for too many. Blame it on Gump. And the crazy Ukranian. One minute, I was there for a quiet drink with a friend I haven’t seen in far too long, the next I was doing tequila slammers with the proprietors son. Gump and I worked out that the Vodka they always force down our throats (chased by a gherkin for some reason known only to those from the Soviet Union) isn’t actually as great as we had previously thought. It’s just that we were slightly less maimed than usual and still had partial use of our taste-buds. I prefer to stick to the chimera that it is triple distilled in Siberia from whence it is dragged on the back of a yak to the coast and shipped on an old nuclear class sub; and not sold for R55.99 at Makro.

Kluytsie is apparently on this very day writing his final pilots exam so that he can join the airlines. I can remember him writing various flying exams since we were about 17 so I think he might just be a little excited and tonight will hopefully be brutal.

Listening to Skid Row earlier has compelled me to revisit all my old school albums. Have been through Anthrax and have moved onto Battery 9. Does anyone remember Battery 9? That Afrikaans industrial band from the mid 90s that used to use drills and sheet metal and crap to make music. I know Labs and Gump will remember them. In fact I think Labs actually gave me the CD. It’s all your fault my mom was convinced I was on drugs my guy.

Ek blaas hom
Ek blaas hom
Ek blaas hom, weer…

Deep. Think about it.

Speaking of guy, for all those that were unaware – Corne and Twakkie have their very own show on SABC 2 on Tuesdays at 10. Catch it – this week, they interviewed everybody’s favourite radio icon Mr. Barney Simon. M-Net are competing with their very own local content Binnelanders. Poignant local drama at it’s channel changing best.

Something you probably didn’t know:
cleavage n. Way in which mineral, party, opinion, etc., tends to split.
Now you know.

Cold hard bitch
Just a kiss on the lips
And I was on my knees
I’m
waiting, give me
Cold hard bitch,
She was shakin’ her hips
That’s all
that I need

Ramble has broken the 200 visits mark. Just touching myself quickly.

What the hell is that..?

My old man’s new girlfriend is one them what snorts at the end of her laugh. Ha ha ha ngah. How do I stop myself laughing at her? I come from a school of friends with about as much compassion as Hitler after just stubbing his toe. Sometimes I just have to pretend I’m laughing with her. And then she says things like “but sea-level in Cape Town is higher than in Durban”. Someone hand me a 4 iron. My Godfather and I just sat there with mouths agape, not quite knowing how to react; neither of us is notorious for our patience with people when they say stupid things. Ha ha ha ngah. Then again, maybe I’m just bummed cause my old man at 65 has a more active, ahem, life than I. I’ve decided I’m going to go to Tibet to become a monk. Write that down, Timothy Andrew Kluyts.

Mike, a handsome dude, walked into a sports bar around 9:58 PM. He sat down next
to this blonde at the bar and stared up at the TV. The 10:00 news was on. The
news crew was covering a story of a man on a ledge of a large building preparing
to jump.The blonde looked at Mike and said, "Do you think he'll jump?"Mike says,
"You know, I bet he will jump."The blonde replied, "Well, I bet he won't."Mike
placed $20 on the bar and said, "You're on!" Just as the blonde placed her money
on the bar, the guy did a swan-dive off of the building, falling to his
death.The blonde was very upset and handed her $20 to Mike, saying, "Fair's
fair.Here's your money."Mike replied, "I can't take your money, I saw this
earlier on the 5 o'clock news and knew he would jump."The blonde replies, "I
did, too; but I didn't think he'd do it again."Mike took the money...

Why would I post such a lame joke on this most illustrious of websites? Because it was emailed to me by Chip and I would like you to note the “Mike, a handsome dude” part. Is it in any way relevant to the joke whether or not Mike is handsome? Tell the truth Chip my guy, did you have other things on your mind when you wrote this? Go on, touch Hobbo.

For once Shmoe joined the Work Avoidance Brigade (personally, I have graduated from this club and am now part of the Life Avoidance Brigade) and it turns out he has quite the hand at writing.

I will tell you a scary story. Last night I challenged myself to a trip to the
South for a stay over. Yes you probably thinking idiot, why go there? But it was
necessary and with necessities come compromises (as 5th leg became last night).
Anyway, due to the fact that I was in the southern slums, I left particularly
early - around 5:15 - to escape the thugs that cover the streets. Of course
when I pulled in to 7th heaven (28 Holt street - the Palms) no one was awake. So
I quietly entered the dark house hoping to make it to my room with as little
noise left behind as possible when I saw the most horrific scene I have ever
seen. No it wasn't Jamo's puke on the floor, or Hobbo standing in the doorway.
Not even a spider, but as I walked up the passage I noticed a door to one of the
rooms open. Uncontrollably, and to my dismay, I looked left and saw it, THERE -
basically erupting in its own mess... Yes you can believe it, yes
it was unmistakable, it was Gumps Crack - putting the worlds
most terrifying sight to shame. I gagged, mock charged, stumbled and almost
- only almost - burst into tears as I was overtaken and scarred by this
unruly - mentally devastating sight.

It was terrible, took 3 hours
to stop trembling.

But I am alright now, managed to pull myself
towards myself and am slowly getting on with my life.

What really
scares me is the thought of having to go to sleep tonight... the nightmares...

A bit of bile has risen to my mouth. There will be a short memorial service this evening at The Palms for Shmoe’s innocence.

I was sent one of those silly type in your name and your perfect job will be revealed things. The results? Christian name – Porn Star. Full name – Brain Surgeon. Ha ha ha ngah. Remarkably accurate.

It was 7 minutes after midnight. The dog was lying on the grass in the middle of
the lawn in front of Mrs Shears’ house. Its eyes were closed. It looked as if it
was running on its side, the way dogs run when they think they are chasing a cat
in a dream. But the dog was not running or asleep. The dog was dead. There was a
garden fork sticking out of the dog.
- Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of
the Dog in the Night-Time

To me it’s right up there with “Call me Ishmael” and “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” as one of the all time best beginnings to a book. If you haven’t read it, best you do so. If you have, is dog an anagram and metaphor for God? Hmmm.

Incidentally, read the beginning to A Tale of Two Cities. Whoever said Dickens could write a little, wasn’t taking the piss.

Listening to Disturbed now.

No mommy don't do it again, don't do it again,
I'll be a good boy
I'll be a good boy, I promise.
No mommy don't hit me,
OW, why did you have to hit me like that mommy?
Don't do it you're hurting me O-HOW.
Why do you have to be such a bitch.
Why don't you why don't you fuck off and die!
Why can't you just fuck off and die!
Why can't you just leave here and die!
Never stick your hand in my face again, bitch.
FUCK YOU!!!I don't need this shit!
You stupid, sadistic, abusive, fucking whore.
Would you like to see how it feels mommy?
Here it comes get ready to DIE!

O-WA-A-A-A

Ha ha ha ngah. I think someone wasn't breast-fed. There is not a doubt in my mind that at some point in our Rhodes career Knaps and I drank papsak and moshed hard to that in his res room while Merk prayed for our souls next door.
Sing it with me my guy.

You’re one twisted little fuck and now you wanna get psycho with me.

No one can deny we are cut from the same cloth mfana. Admittedly you got the lions share and it got mixed up with your mom’s red lace underwear in the wash. Fuck man, sorry. I actually siffed myself out a little bit there. No one can deny Mrs Knappy is awesome. She even humoured some bullshit argument I was making about something or other on New Year’s when I couldn’t remember from one sentence to the next.

I almost forgot to tell a little bedtime story for the kids. A while ago (at least 6 months, if memory serves) Harties, Paolie, Kluytsie and yours truly went to Billy’s for drink or two. We were just chilling when Paolie (everybody’s favourite Italian Stallion) was sent over a double shot of absinthe (in hindsight, perhaps we should have been wary of women who ply you with hallucinogens). Anyway, my guy duly took it and we ended up sitting at a table with them. Long story short, they were from The East, two were married, one engaged and one single. And the single one wasn’t the one doing all the work, I have to tell you. In general, they looked like a baseball bat to the face might make some improvements but hey, as they say, they were the only one’s talking to us. Paolie, committed the schoolboy error of giving them his phone number. For the past six months he has been making excuses not to see them and they just don’t seem to be taking the hint. Then, he told me the other day that one of them had recently sent him a message saying “I want to have an affair with you”. WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU FIND THESE PEOPLE PAOLIE? Strange as it may seem, this is no isolated incident in the lives of Paolie, Kluytsie and Harties. They all have several variations of the same story to their names.



Saturday night at Colony was great. Lots of old faces not seen for ages. And a lot of pitting. Anyway, Don Rob did something awesome. In his own words “she was probably the ugliest girl I’ve ever been with”. But it gets better. He said that earlier in the evening his brother missioned off and was seen chatting up some bird. Rob said he was talking crap with some of his mates and a girl that they knew but he didn’t joined them. She looked at him a little strangely and then pulled in. Don Rob thought, “oh well, I am Handsome Rob after all” and reciprocated. As she walked away his mates burst out laughing and he realised that she had a butt exactly like his maid’s. Then his brother walked up and Don Rob asked him where his girl was. “You just scored her”, he replied. Ha ha ha ngah. Apparently she got a little confused and thought Rob was his brother. And she looked like a combine harvester from behind. That really is brotherly love for you; it’s like stepping in front of a bullet.



Two thousand, two hundred and fourteen words and not one Knappy joke. Small miracles. The lack of Knappy jokes, not Knappy that is – cause we all know that man is a planet sized miracle himself.

Enjoy the weekend party people. Tonight, I celebrate the miracle that is binge drinking.

Love, kisses and minimal yeast related infections
Jamo.