Category: parti-parti


As the man took another sip of the crispy Chardonnay from one of his favourite cellars, yet another concept demanded attention by oh-so-sweetly digging its talons into his thoughts. What some may construe as an evil grin crept across his demeanour, his lips almost twitching with glee. The sun blazing down in all its furious glory, appreciation for the shadowy haven under which he found himself that afternoon joined the feeling of satisfaction – satisfaction associated with the apparent onslaught of creative thought, inspired by a milieu he rarely has the opportunity to appreciate.

It is a well-known fact that I (still) don’t write nearly as much as I would like to. My professional ambition ruled my life for the past five years or so and did not, in conjunction with my social endeavours, necessarily leave a lot of space for much else. This past December also saw a man broken by Life take an extended leave of absence for the first time in years. I needed time to think, for a change, about a lot of things.

I set out promising myself that I would, amongst many other things, write more and so on and so forth. The breakaway from my fast-paced life in our wonderful Metropolis was going to be ideal for catching up on myself (if that makes sense). Needless to say, I found myself with more than enough time and opportunity to simply amble around with only myself as company (which is yet another tale to be scribbled down in the near future). Those of you who are curious enough to follow me on twitter or fortunate enough to be counted amongst my “friends” would have caught a whiff of the said trials and tribulations during this time.

it was good being home :)

In-between being cancelled on by a wide assortment of Cape Townians, almost murdering a few family members and appreciating my beautiful home country I also gave thought to the avenues I should explore in my writing. Quite recently, I was approached by a well-known publication (amongst others) and asked whether I would throw a piece or two their way. I was very flattered, of course, by both the commercial and personal requests (thanks again, guys), but simply couldn’t commit to anything outside of my profession at that point in time. I was already getting dangerously close to overworking myself and finding myself in the same position I did just before my little “tumble” back in 2008.

Even though the (very wide) assortment of scans, pokes, prods and probes by machines worth millions concluded that there’s nothing wrong with my mental ability (to the contrary, strangely enough), there were some notable changes after they finally discharged me from hospital. Over-and-above a bunch of negligible itches (like having to learn how to walk from scratch), I had noticed something not-quite-right with the colourful vocabulary I was so used to delve into.

Exemplum: I would know that I have the perfect word to express myself at that very moment, or smile as I describe whichever situation I found myself witness to…but I could not, for some inexplicable (and maddeningly frustrating) reason, put my finger on it. The word would literally be on the tip of my tongue – I just couldn’t remember what it is. Being as passionate as I am about my writing, I was driven far beyond the proverbial edge of what little sanity I have left each and every time this happened. Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I simply have to calm myself down, close my eyes and consider the ocean of words prattling about in my noggin.

Flirtatious Writer’s Block aside, I was still determined to write more – about more. I decided to keep my current style and feel to the blog, but would definitely like to expand on the subject matter. Even though I don’t shy away from being referred to narcissistic bastard, I felt that I would most definitely enjoy writing about some of the topics I have been approached for over the past year or so. That being said, I would like to invite anyone who reads my drivel on a regular basis to assist in deciding what exactly and/or how much I should expand said subject matter.

Enter my very first (digitally verified) Poll:

As you may or may not have realised, I have quite an affinity for pretty much all these topics – and would most definitely enjoy writing about all of it, corrupting each topic with my own style. So, here’s to hearing from everyone and looking forward to a literary revolution throughout MMXI.

//’bunny

Oh, and P.S. go check this out: it’s frikken hilarious…

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Per aspera ad astra

Molten lava dripped from what seemed like an appendage, her sneer clearly overpowering the sizzling chorus of liquid rock returning to its solid origin. As liquid rock-turds merged with their whole, the mystery of how this bitch managed to hurl curve-ball after excruciating curve-ball still eluded the beaten man as the smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils. With an all-too familiar pain from the onslaught searing through his back, he dug his heel deep as clenched teeth held back another vile curse.

Months had gone by without the reprobate rearing whatever resembled her despicable head. Life, strangely enough, was good. Sure, there were some challenges hinting at negativity here and there, but all were met with ferocious valour and duly conquered. For the first time in almost a decade, everything seemed to work out for a man once broken by the World. Until but a short while ago, that is…

I'll have you someday, 'bunny...

I’m not going to mess about, do not intend on appearing to wallow in self-pity or worry about sounding narcissistic when I say I’ve made it through some bloody tough times. It took years to get to, and subsequently accept, the philosophy that I currently try very hard to follow when the proverbial shit hits the fan:

“It doesn’t matter how bad it gets – learn from whatever happened and use that knowledge to improve your life, and possibly those around you, going forward.”

This simple outlook has saved me many an evening destined for despair. Well, that and lots of wine. Yes: things have gotten bad. Really bad. So bad that you find yourself ambling down that tar-pit of emotion eventually leading to depression or something of the like. Yet, after finally accepting the mantra pixelated into existence (for your benefit, by-the-way) in the prior paragraph, it somehow just became easier.

Over the past few weeks, however, Murphy’s hit back with a quite vengeance:

  1. I think it started hinting at coming to a point when my BlackBerry got stolen this past Friday night… I, of course being in denial that she had returned to my life, did not take heed of this little clue.
  2. Apparently these f.ckers phoned a whole bunch of people from my (contract) phone on Friday night, just after jacking it. I was on international roaming at the time. At approximately R10 per minute.
  3. I can’t block the said stolen phone, ’cause Vodacom’s system is down (surprise!).
  4. At the back of my mind, I told myself “all is not lost – I’ve got everything backed up on my external hard drive.” My external drive with everything on it, kept in a protective sleeve casing since the day I owned it, crashed yesterday. That’s 1 TB of data… gone. My entire address book (numbers, e-mail addresses, birthdays), all my music, 7 years’ worth of photos (approximately 5000 photos), all my banking data, all my software installation files, all my updates, all my carefully-crafted VMs for work, all my databases, etc.
  5. My credit card is maxed out after picking up a R12k bill because of people simply leaving without thinking about how the heck the restaurant is going to get paid for their services. No guys, they won’t simply let you leave on “good faith” that you’re going to settle the bill tomorrow or on Monday.
  6. My (diesel) Volvo’s service light just went on. Awesome, eh?
  7. While I’m at it, I hate traffic.
  8. Everyone else around me is so frikken happy, I could just vomit the whole day. Literally. And no, I’m not kidding.
  9. My laptop’s release from Deloitte has been delayed for another day – I can’t work, I can’t access anything, “I can’t do shit.”
  10. I forgot my Starcraft II DVD in it when I sent it in – luckily the game isn’t in really high demand or anything like that.
  11. Did I mention it takes an average of 2 business days for a transfer to go through between two banks? Yeah – do the math on the $$$ that’s owed to me.
  12. Oh yeah, that BlackBerry? Brand new, yet-to-be-insured – just in case you didn’t know.

    Hulk BRAAi!

  13. I’m still single and ever-more convinced that I’m going to die a lonely, miserable death after this weekend. Sod off with your “don’t worry, she’s out there”; “Don’t look for that person, she’ll come to you when the time is right”; “fish in the sea”; “you’re such a great guy”; etc. etc. etc. – I don’t give a crap. Spend a couple of years in my shoes and then come regurgitate all that hogwash in my face again, OK?
  14. I’ve officially ran out of contact lenses. A new set for six months costs over R2k. Yes, I’m blind. And it happens to cost a fortune to see.
  15. I haven’t had a decent holiday (longer than 10 days, if that) in almost 5 years.
  16. Taking that into consideration, I haven’t seen my family for longer than a week in all that time either. Should you not be privy to the fact: we’re a very close family. I miss the living Hell out of them all.
  17. I just tried upgrading my new phone’s software – and that’s giving me crap as well. Endlessly. For no obvious reason. Exactly the same model and everything.
  18. My Jasmine flowers are all little yellow shrivels. Dead. Kaput. Klaar.

Now, I realise this might not be a real post or necessarily in the “calibre” of my other meanderings – but I just needed to vent someplace. I started bitching on faceBook, but decided I’m going to feel better if I just burn this all into an eternal archive via this ‘ere lil’ blog-thingie. Unless Murphy blows up the WordPress servers, of course.

It took some heavy tweaking, but my new BlackBerry ROCKED !..!,

I pride myself on the quality of pretty much anything I unleash unto the World, and hope I can make up for this little shit-fit in the coming weeks. I’ve got a lot of ideas and things I want to write about, so don’t give up on my just yet… that is, if good ol’ Murphy should (for some inexplicably obscure reason) decide to ease up a little on digging her claws into my scrotum.
‘til then, see y’all later.

//teh ‘bunny

Tiny droplets race ahead of the impending deluge, scouting ahead of the crimson tide cutting a deep swathe across all it encounters. Perfection glimmers for a brief moment as sunlight dances off the surface of this strange land before it is engulfed by a sea of red gliding over it like silk. Reaching the end of what seemed like an endless plain of silver, the ruby beads let fly off the edge into the unknown.

Their new-found rapture in the wonder of flight does not last long as they crash into a forest of fibres woven with disturbing purpose. As the mysterious tangle absorbs the front-runners, the crimson flood arrives, bolstering the force’s energetic escape from a dark prison it found itself in but moments ago. Though formidable in its efforts, what appears to have been a river is quickly reduced to a trickle as the never-ending forest continues to quench its thirst, staining itself a similar scarlet in doing so.

wooooooooooo.....

The blade was buried deep, brought down with meaning and hopefully enough force as what all those who willed it to be there could muster. The man did not expect it. It was crafted well, with steel folded by true masters finding themselves in the forges of such things. He could feel this as the work of art dug deep into his back, making light work of any muscle or tendon foolish enough to challenge it. Although he did not expect the sliver of pain shooting through his left shoulder now, he was by no means unaccustomed to it.

dood deur middel van wortel

what you need will be the end of you

The assailant’s aim was slightly lower than the previous would-be assassin, assigned with a similar task. “Suppose that, at least, is a good thing” he thought to himself – the previous wound had only just healed, and scar tissue takes a bit longer to fix itself the second or third time around. A slight twitch as it dug deeper may have been less than they were hoping for, but he wasn’t going to give them anything more than that.

He could feel the grip around the hilt tear away as he turned to face the others in the room. She almost stumbled, her hasty retreat to the group executed with somewhat less agility than he had given her credit for in the past. What met him was an assortment of faces he had learnt to trust over the past couple of years – some of them only a few weeks, others months, but here and there even more than that.

“Are you fucking serious?”

You could see the surprise on the faces of those that have not known him for that long. They had all heard the rumours, the stories, the myths – the majority of them finding themselves not yet a part of his life when the apparent events transpired. Most of them simply brushed the tales aside as drunk-talk by someone angry at the world with unsubstantiated reason. Little did they know that they now found themselves amidst yet another chapter unfolding.

Even though I’d love to continue scribbling on about this fellow’s adventures, I’m saving that for something else. And yes, trust me: there’s a lot more. Basically, it’s a quick snapshot of my life over the past couple of weeks. Some hidden meanings and references more apparent than others, but I can guarantee you that the majority of people reading this piece of writing shouldn’t presume to think they know anything. To quote one of my most favourite Greek philosophers ever: “Assumption is, indeed, the mother of all fuck-ups.”

I like to refer to myself as a catalyst. “What is this inane reference to the field of chemistry, Ian?” you may ask. Well, for those of you not necessarily up-to-speed with the wonderful world of acids, bases and all its other fun little uses:

cat·a·lyst   [kat-l-ist]

–noun

  1. Chemistry . a substance that causes or accelerates a chemical reaction without itself being affected.
  2. something that causes activity between two or more persons or forces without itself being affected.
  3. a person or thing that precipitates an event or change: His imprisonment by the government served as the catalyst that helped transform social unrest into revolution.
  4. a person whose talk, enthusiasm, or energy causes others to be more friendly, enthusiastic, or energetic.

“OK – but how the hell does this pertain to you, oh mysterious and nonsensical one?”

Regardless of my very public distaste for humanity, I rather enjoy meeting new people – call it fostering some silly kind of false hope, if you need. As most of you know, I also enjoy partying it up quite a bit. That being said, it should also be known that I party in a very wide variety of circles. I find myself jiving with almost every stereotypical crowd there is. I shake my booty in the hottest clubs, I thrash out with head-banging to hardcore metal, I enjoy my whiskey and cigars in underground jazz clubs, I love a good pint at the pub, I suit-up for exquisite balls, lavish cocktails in lounges, I braai with the best “oppiPlaas” – everything.

I also enjoy bringing people together. People meeting other people, everyone having a good time, everyone just being themselves without having to hold back just because they’ve been labelled by society. I can proudly say that I have introduced people to each other whose paths would have never-bloody-ever crossed otherwise. A lot of people nod and smile when situations like those present themselves, going their separate ways after the fact – but some of these folks have even gone on to become the best of friends ever. As a matter of fact, the majority of people walk away from my mini-parties or get-togethers with a bunch of people they get along with very well. Where it gets sticky, is what follows.

Awesome – my friends all get along and enjoy each other’s company. I’ve managed to “make the circle beega” and enjoyed myself whilst doing so. After a while the people involved start drifting a bit. They become quieter, appear to not go out as much or always have some family thing they need to go to. I don’t really pay that much attention – I have a busy life-style too. Each member of my immediate family is more than a thousand kilometres away and I still don’t have enough time for everybody all the time. Sure. Next time. I’m sure I’ll be on the list next time when they go out.

Enter our lovely little social network sites – the most convenient way to keep in touch with anyone that knows how to operate a mobile phone (‘cause some people still find it incredibly hard to figure out those little things embedded in the Short Message System, or SMS). First the updates of the good night out with awesome people, when you were pretty keen to do something but ended up staying in because your mate seemed “too busy.”

Then the synchronisation of these instances among people you know. By this time you’ve found “more reliable” people who actually respond to efforts of communication, and as a result you may be enjoying that brewski with them rather than the former. Then the photographic razorblades. Parties, dinners, festivals – everyone there. Everyone you had introduced to each other. Everyone except you, the catalyst. “How the hell does that work?”

You see, in chemistry, after the catalyst has served its purpose by making the two constituents of whatever the desired product is work together, it’s no longer part of the picture. Neither the constituents nor the product give a shit what the catalyst does or what happens to it. It’s simply cast aside and moves on to find the next two parts it makes work together, still remaining on its own. In the greater scheme of things, the way this molecule is composed may be integral to the interaction with another singular molecule to produce something that is greater than any of the products resulting from its use as catalyst…

Unfortunately, in the cesspool that is our society, the possibility of this occurring is destined to remain a mere fantasy. In my short time on this Earth, fate has strewn thousands of souls across my ragged path. The illusion of true happiness had indeed taunted me on occasion, albeit for only a brief moment in the chaos that is my life, but never succeeded in digging its bittersweet claws into who I truly am. Until that day comes, I shall forever wander the wastes upon which humanity pretends to build its dreams.

you've been warned...

well, i haven’t written anything in months. a lot has happened since then: i actually started my professional life, i bought my own place (kind of), the girl whom i thought i would marry cheated on me with a real dick, i overdosed on everything i could get my hands on… life’s been busy.

shortly after my previous post (in january, ffs), i started looking for a job. can’t really remember if i mentioned it before, but i had been told that i have reached the stage where i need to be 100% financially independent. i messed around for the most of january and february while looking for a job. there was many a night that was filled with enough alcohol to take down a smallish buffalo, lamenting my unfortunate position of having no future whatsoever. i enjoyed the last days at varsity where i could just keep going and going and going and not having to worry about what i look (or smell) like the following morning.

eventually i found a place where i started my articles for CA, all excited about the concept of actually getting paid for doing some work (not that you could call an article clerk’s “salary” pay).

ag, you know what? fuck it. i got this in an e-mail today:


yeah, FUKiTOL. so my life sucked. so the girl of my dreams cheated on me. so i OD’d. yippety-frikkin-doo-da. what do you care anyways? why the hell am i writing this? i don’t get paid enough either. bitch bitch bitch, moan moan moan.

moving into my new place today, it’s schweet… 2 bedrooms and a loft, can’t wait to get in there. sure, its gonna be empty as hell (article clerk salary=something laughable, even in Africa) – but at least i won’t have to deal with other people’s crap any more. mmmkay, i should prolly go look busy before my boss (can’t belive i actually have one of those now) shits on me for being tired on a friday afternoon. f.ck.

‘ave a good one y’all. drink too much, your liver dies with you.

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