Friday Ramble 24/03/2006

Greetings fellow earthly voyager,

The Colab concert. What can I say? I will quietly ignore the obvious gripe about not being able to get a beer, any refreshment or food all day because it sucked, but hey – I dealt with it. I must admit that at one point I was concerned I would see the inside of the medical tent for dehydration but then I drank some water out of a toilet bowl and was ok. I have heard rumblings of people bitching because ‘how can you have a good time without booze’? Assils. You need to get pumped to go to Tiger, not to enjoy two of the greatest bands of our time. There is very little I can say to express what a privilege it was to be there. Rasmus sucked big fat hairy Greek balls. Seether rocked. Collective Soul blew me away. Metallica destroyed the last vestiges of my mind. I had come to think that maybe my days of being a metal-head were over but Metallica really put pay to that. I LOVE to mosh. Maybe it’s because I can’t dance, but whatever. I couldn’t move my neck for days. SEARCHIN’… SEEK AND DESTROY!!! Grrr. Shot to all the bands for making it a fantastically memorable experience I will take to my grave. Fuck you Big Concerts for denying responsibility for the monumental logistical cock-up. Their excuse was that Centurion had assured them that they had food and drinks under control. So it’s common business practice for you guys just to accept tenders on their assurances - without seeing a proposal? Money-grabbing assils. Also an extra special fuck you to the girl who sat down in front of me during Metallica and then got bleak when I stood on her hand. You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the head for good measure. One final fuck you to the guy who we saw leaving the stadium with one of Lars’ drumsticks and wouldn’t let Boarders spin it. Anal-retentive little toss – I bet you got picked on at school and couldn’t for the life of you work out why. One absolutely bloody fucking final fuck you to 5fm for letting Nicole Fox MC. For all the decades of work Uncle Barney has put into hard rock in this country it was his birthright. Miss Fox shrieking in her annoyingly shrill voice ‘are you ready to see miiiteliiiicaaa?’ was unbearable. And she’s getting fat.

On my public holiday I hit the Picasso exhibition and man…what an experience. I did my best to ignore the startling similarities between some of his works and the murals I drew with my crayons when I was 2. My favourite artistic movement is Hot Comic Book Chicks so what the hell do I know anyway? Apart from the raging gap in my artistic appreciation, it really was pretty awe-inspiring. I think I’m probably making one of the biggest understatements in history by saying, ‘pretty talented chap’. Some of his doodles were even on display – well they call them ‘studies’, but that’s basically what they are. There were some toight little bums running around too, so I’ve made a mental note to hit more art exhibitions.



I pulled out of my little bubble at a robot the other day by a disheveled character asking for a lift down to the end of the road. I was so taken by surprise that I couldn’t really think of an appropriate excuse and found myself letting him into The Tank. Sometimes I hate being programmed into guilt-ridden social decorum. He looked like he had been pulled backwards through a wood-chipper. Complete with patchy beard and mismatched teeth, he was carrying a blanket that looked like it had originally been to the Battle of Roarkes Drift. Like a true kook, his jeans pockets and waistband were stuffed with objects miscellaneous. Once I was over the inevitable Jo’burg fear of not knowing whether this individual was going to end up feeding me to his cat, I suppose their should have been no problem. I should even have felt good for giving a fellow human a hand. He got into the car and the stench that trailed in is difficult to describe. I tried for ages to place it, but the closest I could come is that it smelt like raw venison that had been marinated in thinners. I caught this weird part of me wondering how much I would have to bet Slinky to score him. Probably about R5. I am Jamo’s throbbing bile duct. The place he wanted to be dropped off was a bottle store so he could buy a ‘halfie’. I imagined him adding the wretched smell of stale gin to his concoction of odours and almost puked. As he got out he noticed a bottle of wine I had lying on the floor and begged me to open it and share it with him. Somehow it didn’t seem like a great idea so I politely declined and went on my way without further incident. When I got home I had to shower and change my clothes I felt so siff. I think I might have to firebomb the inside of The Tank to make it pure again.


A rose from our garden for my mum.

I would like to send a big shout out to a certain esteemed member of the South African business community who my sister did some work for recently. He got her to translate an important document into French for a presentation in Senegal (or some other French speaking African country – I can’t recall) which she duly worked her arse off for a week completing. She was promised payment very soon after completion. Now, it’s almost a month and a half later and he has changed his tune; he will only pay once he has received his first payment. I happen to know that the amount of money in question is not an issue at all for this individual. You sir, are an assil. As much as unscrupulous, arrogant fuckwits like George W are the flag-bearers of your corrupt race, there are cunts like you at every level. I remember your son once telling me a story about when you met Liam Gallagher and what a appalling person he was. At least he had the decency to be upfront about it, and not a lying snake in the grass. Cu…n…t.

And that’s that.

Geniet jou naweek julle.
Liefde, soene en jong hondjies se sterte
Jamo