Cough! Sputter! Sniff! And ouch!

I am sick, my dose is blocked, add I feel very sorry for byself. sdiffle! On top of which, every muscle in my decidedly unmuscular body is aching from the pain of clinging to rocks about 20m above the ground. yep, my friend roped me into rock climbing. got half-way up the third wall when my forearm muscles froze in pain and would take me no further. Now, being the proud peacock that I am, I would normally live through the pain to at least make it to the top of that wall, if not the next. But yesterday, I couldn't scale that wall. I had to swallow my considerable pride (nearly choked on it) and lean back on the rope so my friend could lower me to safety a paltry 20m below. I blame it on my cold. Seriously, I was feeling a bit weak at the start. Not buying it? You cunts! So anyway, I consoled myself afterwards by drowning in beer, Corenza C and Horlicks - nature's best combo. Oh, and I got a stamp from the Pollsmoor Prison (excuse me, Correctional Facility) yesterday on my arm, which I stupidly washed off before I got to take a photo as evidence. So now you'll never know how hardcore I was going there yesterday (what I would omit to tell you, is that it was just for a photo exhibition. But, they didn't search me, so you'll never know if I had been carrying a gun/panga/sharp nail file, will you? I could've done stuff - I could've unleashed SA's most dangerous prisoners, but I don't even get a word of thanks for sparing the country from 4000-odd crazy people wired on tik and mandrax. Sheesh.).

Sequels. The same shit twice/thrice over.

Call me a geek, a nerd, whatever you will. But when I see the trailer for the xXx sequel, one thought and one thought alone crosses my mind: is that (xXx)^2, or just xx.x^2? What is it with movie makers and retarded sequel names - Ocean's Twelve? Die Harder? Analyse That? (ok, I kinda like the last one). Arb fact: when the movie about King Richard the Third (of England) came out, producers decided to change the name from Richard III to just Richard, in case American moviegoers would avoid it, thinking they had missed out on the first two movies, Richard I and Richard II. No comment, for politeness' sake, about American moviegoers. This is all indisputable evidence that movie makers rely so much on the hype created by their first movie to draw audiences back for the sequel - or these days, sequels), that they don't need to bother making a good film - viewers will only complain after they've paid for the ticket, which is all the producers really give a shit about. (Exhibit A - The Matrix trilogy. Need I say more?) Speaking of movies, I'm excited that a South African movie has finally blipped on the global radar, I'm just sorry it had to be made in the bogwaters of Benoni. And I'm sorry the crazy monkeys decided to give Danny K any screen time. WTF? Unless they rag the crap out of him, that is, then it's A-ok with me (and the rest of the country, even his parents, believe me). On to smaller screens: totally mortified that I'm gonna miss strip/fuck tonight, but all for a bloody good reason: Defending the Caveman! And how's this for weird coincindence? Was out to pub lunch at a snotty venue on Sunday, who was sitting at the table next to us? Tim Plewman, of Defending the Caveman fame, of course! Naturally, I need to believe this is more an act of fate than random occurrence, but even I'm having trouble swallowing that one...

Fun and games

No time to write garbledigook today - not cos I'm working or anything, but because I found the coolest site. If, like me, you do precious little to enhance the planet and have limitless Internet access, type in a string of up to 4 words (eg: the meaning of life) in the box below, and see what Google churns up. For an explanation, follow the link beneath the box for Google talk.



Google talk a
Google Hack by
Douwe Osinga

If, on the other hand, you feel like your paltry actions could have some meaning for the planet, then fuck off. why are you reading this bullshit anyway?

Aspies

A change is as good as a holiday, they say. And because no holidays are forthcoming and I have to wait until August for my next foray into the world, I had to go with the change option. Pimp your ride wasn't really me, it was a name born in a drunken discussion with a great mate. Third World Ant is more what I am - the third world teams with people, like little ants. And I'm a white ant in a big teaming city. Fitting, isn't it?

Onto the real subject of the day - Asperger's Syndrome. I'm obsessed. Borrowed a book from a doctor pal of mine, the content of which is the abovementioned disorder - a high-functioning form of autism. In the first few chapters of the book, I felt I really could relate to the characters described, I was all like "Hey I'm like that!". But then... along came chapter 4, with an Aspie (affectionate term for them) test, and it turns out I'm LESS THAN HALF the average normal person's score! I did the test on a few friends, all of whom have scored at least double my score. What's wrong with me? The degrading term for unautistic peeps like myself is 'neurotypical'. bleugh! so, having to detract my Aspies attention from myself, I've thought back in my wee history (and my even wee-er memory) to think of all the people I've ever met and who might have blipped on the Aspie radar:

1 - Patrick. He had a strange gait, cocked his head to the side, was unaware of his general unpopularity with his peers, and was pretty intelligent (and loved to let everyone know it, too). Very sensitive to music (most Aspies have hyper- and hyposensitivity to one or more of the senses, and exhibit prodigious skills in them).

2 - Gina. She was downright gauche. An exhibitionist of note, she could never tell that people were laughing at her, not with her. No special sensitivity/skill with any senses. Expecially not much acting talent, though she will die declaring she's the next Hollywood it girl. Reliving her poetry performances in front of our English class - not pretty.

3 - Nanette. Talks at you rather than to you. Loud, unruly, rude. Intelligent, focused. A great pal, too!

4 - Timmy. Completely disattached from emotions. Intelligent, strange gait. The best damn pal you could ask for.

5 - Most of my varsity lecturers. Odd people, bad dress sense, couldn't relate to the real world, became obsessed with their fields of study at the exclusion of all else.

Even my boyf has some Aspie tendencies, I feel soooo left out!

I will spend this week trying to commit socially unacceptable blunders that make people think I'm strange and don't fit in.

Die evil song, die!

Got that stoopid awful gwen/eve ditty in my head - what scares me is that, not only has the song been remade a number of times (can't be bothered to check out the number), but that this remake has made it to NUMBER 1 IN THE WORLD. what. the. fuck. is. the. world. thinking? And now, it won't leave my head. it's positively bouncing off the walls of my hollow skull, and i think it gave me the blurry spotty vision problem i'm experiencing right now.

so - isn't it terrifying that people vote songs into fame and success purely by the current - and usually fleeting - popularity of the singers (note, i shy away from the too-loosely used term 'musicians') without ever considering the quality of the music they're producing? think about it: when was the last time that u2 released a single that wasn't successful on the charts? when last did they produce a song that was actually original and truly downright deserving of being in the top 10 on the planet?

don't get me wrong, i'm a huge gwen fan, but unlike every other human being on this planet, it seems i'm still able to crit her songs objectively, putting my admiration for her aside, and realising that she made one colossal muzaq booboo on this one.

Better luck next time, gwen, and ta for the migraine. no, really. i'm enjoying the pink-and-purple paisley thing streaking past my eyeballs.

Pimp Your Ride

Commitment phobe

So, don't know how the topic of conversation arose, but my colleague tells me I'm not fully committed to South Africa if I hold a second passport. Excuse me? He did raise a valid point: if the shit really were to hit the fan here, I have a "get out of jail free card" that means I could leave and not face the music - true. But what does it really mean to be "committed" to a country? If you live and work there, pay your taxes, contribute to the underpriviledged in a way that is meaningful to you, always spread positive word about that country to any friends you have living abroad (even - gasp! - the "traitors" who have left), cast your vote to elect the party you feel will run the country best - doesn't this all smack of the vaguest hint of commitment? And, conversely, just because many people don't have the opportunity to gain a second passport, doesn't mean they are any more committed to the country by choice - many would jump at the chance to take the "get out of jail free" card if they could. What is with the overt patriotism anyway? Life should be about making your life the most livable it can be - for some people that means pledging their lives to overturning evil regimes, for others it means discovering the world - of which each person is a citizen anyway, as far as i'm concerned, for others it is about finding an environment which will challenge them best (mentally, physically, emotionally), and for others still, it is about finding a place they can lead peaceful, content lives away from any trauma, drama, history. to each his own. and, viva south africa. signed, the traitor.

dreams and tuesday nights

yay! I love Tuesday tv nights! A quick pre-strip/fuck celebration is in order, so here goes...

Done! I wonder what porn antics they'll get up to tonight...

A quick and arb fact: babies start dreaming 2-3 months before they are born. In fact, they have more dreams before they turn 6 months old than they have at any other stage of their lives. honest.