"I shwear that lasht drink tashted like roofie..."

Sorry to be hogging the blogging, but this has to be seen. Out of my "Archives" comes this beauty, to show the world that Jerry has been as spent as the guy in the photo below. Now savour this photo, it is not often that three great men like this are together. It's too dangerous for us to normally be in the same place, because if a bomb goes off and we all die, so does the legend.

MISSING PERSON

The following person has been missing for about two months. Once close with all of us, he seems to have gone on the run. Great men like Hunter S Thompson had a yearning for the open road and so maybe Dane is a great man. However Hunter was tripping on acid, so I don’t know what Dane is tripping on. Last we heard of him, he said he was going to Johannesburg and he would be back soon. A couple of days later he mysteriously appeared in Limpopo. He said he would be at Jen’s birthday but when told it was that evening and he was not in Cape Town he said something along the lines of “Oh I forgot what day it was” Trippy acid stuff. He also missed Les’s birthday. When I left my house to go to Les’s birthday he said he would be there in 5 minutes. Half an hour after I got there I sms’d him and he said he would be there soon. Then he was on the phone to Les and said he would be there. He never arrived. Dane I don’t know where you are or if you are ever coming back, but let us know dude. So this is a report to search for the enigma that is Dane.

Sober!

Just to let you all know that I am still alive I thought I would post this pick that I came accross a while ago and ment to post.Wept I hope I have never looked this beat!(probably have though)

Plush's last gig

We have a unique bunch of friends. We have a celebrity, a couple alcoholics, some terrible drivers, people who organise birthdays to coincide(terrible thing), naked calendar boys, a missing person(Dane if you there, please respond, I have put out a missing person ad and it’s costing me loads of nickels) and a couple of rock stars. You would think these personalities clash, which they always do, with some clashing at the lips on birthdays. But somehow we pulled it all together like a finely composed sonnet on Thursday and we all came out and enjoyed ourselves.

On Thursday we once again went to Lex’s to braai. So anyway no one braaied except Lex which is usual. Lex was trying his utter best to finish his bottle of brandy or vodka before he went out. We sat for a couple of hours wondering where Charlie was. Anyway we won’t discuss that here but he ended up not speaking to me for a couple of hours after I gave him some words, but later in the evening we sorted it out and once again we were laughing so that was good. But other than that to those of you who missed Plush (Wait…I think it was only you Les) you missed a classic. Once again Meg’s was a hero by booking us a table…at the bar…NICE! We ended up owning the table and the bar space. The first competition was to guess what song Rory was going to play next. Lex Himself(That is actually his surname, Cowan was a mistake for 21 years) answered correctly and won Himself a T-shirt and a bottle of champers. So we all had a complimentary glass of the bubbly. It seems it bubbled up to some of our heads. We started singing along and before long our group was the loudest in the club with Rob leading proceedings. We had the whole club staring at us which is probably due to our good looks. People thought we were mad, which we are. Then later on after the gig Charlie won a R250 bar tab which was sweet. Out came the Red Bull and vodka, SoCo and lime and everything else. And so after one round it seems our bar tab was gone. But it was cool anyway. I must make a special mention to Gary for pulling through after a dinner date that ended with spectacular results. It seems that Gary ended his frustration by smashing through a beer or two. I was a living legend by parking like an idiot outside Sobhar and had Jerry and Rob commenting on it. If I had parked half a car length forward another four more cars could have fitted in. But hey if I parked normally it would not be rock star. Well now that Plush is finished playing it seems many of us are without purpose in our lives. So I will probably have nothing more to post. Until next time.

Dear friends...

I hope you all feel like a million bucks because I feel like a 1976 two cent piece that has been mashed into a train track. This letter serves to severe all ties I have with birthday parties. No longer will I accept invites, and therefore there is no need to invite me to future birthdays, because I am a national hazard. We all know about Rob’s party, Lex’s party and the last straw was Mike’s party. I firmly believe birthdays are my downfall and the reason I have so few friends. This is not an instruction to you all to not invite me, it is a command. And I believe it will add another 20 years to my lifespan. I don’t know which women were at Mike’s party but it’s not important because I hope I never see them again. Not because they were not nice people, but because I don’t want them to know me as the party boozer. I’m shaking worse today (I’m like Shake Guevara) than I was after Lex’s birthday and because of this I’m about to go to Nando’s. Not right now though because I drove the car earlier this morning and got dizzy. I had to stop the car, get out, walk around a bit and take some deep breaths. I feel poisoned. Last night started with punch, and then went to vodka jelly and shooters of gasoline later on. You know a party is excess when Mikes boss is hanging empty beer cans from the ceiling, Mike and a crew of people were smashing beer cans on their heads to try open them, the barmen were so spent that they were out of the game before the party ended, one barman vomited, Mike vomited, my brother went to Tiger Tiger afterwards and vomited at the bar and I was grabbing Mikes cousins tit’s while in full view of her boyfriend. Mikes mom was literally begging me to leave and she gave me a bucket for the trip home which I thankfully did not use. At about 12am(+- 4 hours) I was walking around the block by myself to stop myself from being sick. I think some naughty person spiked the punch. No seriously. I have never heard of so many sick people in my life. I feel like a Shetland pony ran over me. The pain is so bad I want to die, but I still have to conquer the world before I die. So I will have to sit through this headache, cement mixer stomach, swollen face, red eyes and a heart rate that is about 400 beats per minute. This morning I felt a sharp pain in my knee. On closer examination I realised my kneecap is purple from bruising. This complements the bruises on my left shin and chest from Lex’s birthday. Whoever the fucker is that keeps on punching me when I’m drunk, please stop because it hurts. A lot. I look like a victim of the bull run. I know my body hates me so much right now but from now on I think I will treat it with the respect it deserves. I wish for the days of being a kid where booze was not a word in my dictionary. Where the term hangover meant hanging over the rails of the staircase in my house. Where the question “Why don’t chicks dig me?” had no meaning whatsoever. Where nobody hated me. I long for those days again. But this is life and I guess I just have to keep on trucking. It’s warm outside today and people are probably playing in the sun. I bet people are having fun at Clifton. I’m sitting at home trying to concentrate on breathing. I’m repeating these words in my head “A hangover is just a feeling. Just like feeling tired, hungry or angry” This is helping somewhat but I need a miracle to save me now. Another thing on my mind was that someone hates me. Talking of cars last night, I think karma is trying to tell me something. Mikes girlfriend Carey crashed her car, my mom crashed hers, a branch fell on Charlies car, a ball got kicked against his front windscreen and cracked it, my car got a puncture and they needed to replace the tyre, my old mans car got a puncture and now that tyre also needs to be replaced. Somebody hates us. And this is all in the past month except for my tyre which was about 2 months ago Oh and Jerry got an R800 speeding fine (Respect Jerry, you topped my R500 fine I got while I was not even in my car). This is all too bizarre. So I sit here, pondering the meaning of life while I wait for the inflammation of my internal organs to go down. Anyway the dizziness is OUT OF CONTROL now, I can barely keep my head up so it’s time to sign out and say “Peace out” as Lex would say. Well I think he says that. Oh and everyone, don't be shy to post stuff on the blog. As Lex said in the housekeeping post, he has blessed you with the ability to post. So tell us what's on your mind. Anyhow.

Regards

Sean

First thought's on Lex's birthday

I have just woken up after the party yesterday that was Lex’s birthday. Actually I woke up at 5am and drank a litre carton of apple juice, it was probably the single best experience of my life. I have to write this now so I can forget about the pain that the punch and vodka jelly is giving me. I now know what the aftermath of an American Football game must feel like.

You know I was a respectable person most of my life. Then Rob’s 21st came round and things just went crazy. I believe Dave du Toit did not have a girlfriend at the time because he was in his chops and so was I. After that I cut down on the drinking. Well Lex’s birthday started it again. The party started at 1pm which was always going to make for a long day. I believe I left at about 9pm (somewhere in that time region) and I was not the last to leave. That means it was an 8 hour party. It was excessive. Not only did Stuart and Dane deliver a stellar speech earlier in the evening, but Lex’s parents catered for an army with that roast. The speeches had me laughing like a little kid again, but some things I found extremely hilarious no one else laughed that loud at. It must have been the punch in me. Anyway I laughed about Stuart’s story about wrestling and yoghurt. That was one of the highlight stories but should probably never be repeated again with the T-shirt for the sake of Lex’s dignity and any chance of a decent future for him in this world. Having the lilos in the pool was a fantastic idea as well. Before long myself and Charlie had splashed water everywhere. Lex I will help pay the water bill for refilling the pool. I didn’t recognise many people there but anyway it doesn’t matter because they probably don’t think much of me. I honestly don’t know where the time went at the party. I cannot remember most of it. I’d like to thanks Tim for the lift (Well it was an extended lift after cruising through the ‘hood) home because I would have rolled my car. Once again I marvel at the wonder of being single. Everyone with girlfriends acted respectably. I on the other hand got utterly, utterly lambasted. That is thrashed, beaten, spent, and inebriated by the vodka jelly. I thought it was cool challenging every person at the party to see who could finish their jelly sachet first. I suppose it was just for the sake of winning something for a change in my life. On the subject of girlfriends and being respectable, Jerry was respectable, Mike was respectable, Dane was respectable, Dave du Toit was respectable and I was the rogue. I’m beginning to worry because everyone has girlfriends and I don’t know who I’m going to party with at the next 21^st birthday. Actually that’s not too much cause for concern because I won’t crack the nod to another one. I bet Mike and Jen are thinking “Sweet mother of Kris Kristofferson, I can’t believe I extended an invite to Sean for my birthday” I think Jerry’s girlfriend Nedine thinks I was raised in a gutter. But perhaps I was. I think every girl at the party yesterday thought “I don’t know what type of guy I want to date or marry in the future, but that guy is definitely not the type” Glad I could help you girls narrow down the search for a guy. I’m sitting at my computer and there are cuts on my left hand, beer all over my R20 Mr Price white T-Shirt and I’m listening to Johnny Cash. Something in all of that spells “Rock Star” Unfortunately I nearly lost my shirt after going for a swim because someone hid it. They obviously had never seen a gladiator walking around and wanted the experience to last a bit longer. Glad I could help you, whoever you were.

Anyway Lex thanks for a sick party, tell the parents thanks a lot and I will pick my car up later. But if I pick it up now I might get caught for drunk driving. Go in peace everybody and please write of your experience at the party because mine was limited to the bar and the pool and I don’t think I spoke to anyone because I probably made absolutely no sense at all. Now all I need to fix myself up is a swim at Clifton, kit off. Oh and click on my Village Idiot link on this blog where you can read more meaningless rubbish that flows from my mind like a fountain of porridge, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Well I must be on my bike now, as Charlie would say. Bye

Random posting

Did anyone see the following ad at the top of this blog I thought it was hilarious, and appropriate to a few of us. It went like this: Do I drink too much wine? Is it time for me to quit drinking? You’re not alone, we have the answers.

What a strange ad. Anyway just thought I’d tell you that if you want more traffic on your blog then log on to www.blogexplosion.com and you can get listed with them. They manually check your site though for language so mine is waiting approval which I doubt I will get. Oh fuck. Later

Tiger Cage Tuesday

So it was Tuesday and Charlie and Jerry had been nagging me for like a week to go to the Tiger Cage. So I gave in and pulled through. I got there fairly early and was greeted by Jerry, Nedine, Charlie and Lauren who was extremely happy that she had finished school. Yeah I was also happy when school finished but that fades quickly when you realise the world sucks. A lot. Anyway I ordered a R10 double something and something and things started to look sweet. Then Lex Himself arrived in a blaze of glory followed by Jenna, Pippa and Rob. Or maybe they arrived at different times but I can't remember. I thought Lex looked different and he did. For one he was wearing a button shirt. And his sandals were missing. I then thought he had had a hair cut. I actually only realised now that he shaved his 5 '0 clock shadow. Ok 5'0clock shadow from 2 months ago. We all started dancing and it got crazy, sweat was burning my eyes, there were women everywhere except for a 5 metre radius around me that was deviod of any human life as per usual. I shouldn't have worn the pink shirt, I should have worn the black one. Oh well next time. Anyway after telling me to be there Jerry was the first one to fade! Shocking! Someone under the thumb? Don't deny it Jerry. I'm cool with it. Then one of Lauren's friends was there and I thought "Cool, young girl, just finished school, hideously drunk, inhibitions thrown to the wind after finishing school, I'm an older guy , I'm not too bad looking in a very dark club, I'm wearing sex panther.Let's see what happens" I think her name was Megan(By the way if you reading this, call me) and I saw her grab Jenna's drink. Then she proceeded to down it like a madwoman! Cool I have not seen a girl like that in a while, she could be a rock star. Oh I remember sandwiching Jen with Lex or Rob and then she threw ice and her drink on me. Sorry about that Jen but it was hilarious at the time...in fact I'm chuckling as I write this! No wait now I'm laughing loud! Nothing like a sandwich between 2 sweaty guys on the dance floor. Anyway later on I cruised around by myself trying to put out the vibe and trying to pick up any drunk chicks who were blinded by drugs and alcohol. So I saw Brent and asked where Charlie was and he said he was somewhere in the club. I could not find him and then sms'd him. He said he had left to take the drunk girl home and was not coming back. Once again I was alone at The Tiger, a sense of Deja Vu(How do you spell it?) engulfing me. Last time I was there I was jamming when I looked up and realised I was dancing by myself. So I left and found Lex walking past the roof. He was going towards Charlie who was in his car at the robots. Clearly people think I dig partying by myself. Anyway last night I was not all by myself I found Rob and Lex outside but then decided to cut my losses and go home. I went home, made hot chocolate to to calm the whiskey burn and then proceeded to fall asleep without drinking it. Classic times. I didn't come right, actually didn't come close to coming right, spent R20 to get in, R10 on parking, God knows how much on whiskey/gasoline, and then the two people who invited me out left before I did. Fucking hell what a great night!

An inconvenient truth

I dont know how many of you guys know about this movie - its major "claim to fame" is that its the Al Gore movie but more than this, it exposing something to the masses that not many people know about, or even care about. True, its got its fair share of American propaganda and cheesy sentimentality, but if you look past this its a movie that everyone can learn a hell of alot from.

The "inconvenient truth" is that Climate change is real and that it will drastically affect the global climate in the future. Basically, temperatures are gonna increase in the next 50 years due to a raised level of CO2 in the atmosphere and there is fuck all we can do about it. There are a few sceptics out there who deny the fact that this is caused by human activities... but the evidence is overwhelming - this last century happened to be the hottest in the last 1000yrs. Ice cores show that CO2 levels in the atmosphere have not been as high as they are now in the last 400 000yrs - crazy!

Go see the movie, its worth the 40 bucks - even if its just to see a really cute clip involving a frog...
also visit www.climatecrisis.net

Housekeeping

Just a few things for the contributors to this blog:

1. I have blessed you with the ability to post, don't be shy.
2. I see a ginge pube blog has been set-up. Nice, but why don't you use the same user name that you have to contribute to this blog. Just makes everything link up better. See how Sean uses party boy when he writes over at his blog. Just a thought.
3. Let me know when you create these other blogs, that way I can add you to the links list over yonder on the right. Blogball gets a fair amount of traffic from SOU.
4. If you want to add any of the nifty features which this blog has to your personal one then drop me an e-mail. You may resent me but I can help.
5. It's 3am, I have a problem.

That is all.
Peace, love and tic-tacs.

Dane's 21st

I've been incredibly uninspired over the past month or so, somewhere along the line I set my brain to 'slow down' and it got stuck there. Kind of like when you're flicking through your DSTV and it gets stuck on MTV during a Shakira song. Kind of.

BUT seeing as I've had a rather awesome weekend involving Dane, booze and a party (not necessarily in that order), like all Shakira songs my 'slow down' mode has come to and end. My mode is now set to 'off'. Good thing to, all that thinking had my brain over heating.

Dane's 21st part was a great way to spend a Saturday. Instead of watching Dane throw up over himself in a club, we were able to do it while hitting golf balls into the night sky. Now we all know my ability to recall a night can be called into question so any alterations or corrections anyone has to offer are more than welcome. The evening began a slight bit apprehensively, everyone trying to work just how much booze they could order without being asked to provide money. Once the art of drinking single brandy's with a dash of coke was mastered, the bar was now our bitch. I've found it's best to get the bar figured out as early as possible, leave it too late and you'll only be left wondering how much more alcohol you could have schemed from it's neatly polished fridges.

Drinks in hand, the unanimous decision was made to try our hands at klapping a few golf balls. Some were more successful than others and we now have a clear idea of who has abstuletely no co-ordaneation at all. See my clever word play? Ok, well, word play. Three broken clubs, several drunken people and two broken glasses later it was time for the speeches. The speeches were great, highlighting all Dane's magnanimous characteristics, his love for helping people, his loyalty and his deviant behaviour in my kitchen. I hear the collective "Wah? Hmm? Huh?" but unfortunately I'm just not bitter enough to spill the beans so you're going to have to find out the details of this by yourself.

Moving on from speeches the discreetly placed food was discovered. Discreet in the sense that it was completely out in the open just invisble in the haze of my beer goggles, I think it might have been the smell of chicken which lured me there. That, or one too many spins on the dance floor. My apologies to anyone I might have spun, it's a nasty habit and I'm seeking help. At the time chicken on a stick seemed like an ingenious idea, I'm still under that impression. At one stage I think I was in possesion of Pete's camera, it'd be great if he could please get some of those photo's up on the net because I believe at around this stage I manage to capture a wonderful picture which Dane can one day show his kids in the necessary conversation: "The Dangers of Drinking". Well that, or "How to Drink Like a Rockstar!".

Things get a little hazy around here, different people dissapearing at different times. I do know a few of us decided to be 'the core' who sat around until the bar closed, music stopped, lights came on, were politely asked to leave, were not so politely leaved and then were eventually escorted out. Of course I think we were perhaps oblivious to the fact that it wasn't much use being a core when Dane was at that moment at home sleeping a sleep which can only be obtained through the use of alcohol.

I know a few of us headed to Tin Roof after, considering of course that it was only around 12. From what I can remember Tin Roof was mix of drunken dancing, drunken conversations, drunken behaviour and drunken drunkeness. Desperate bids to come right were made, some sucessful, others not but all in all it was a fitting way to end off a really decent night. Well, at least I'm happy how it ended.

Thanks to Dane for the party, Shari for Dane's appearance, Dane's parents for the booze, Pippa and Jenna for the illusion of drunken lesbians in the bathroom, Rob and Stuart for highlighting how a bunch of us can't dance and Meghan for her driving.

Now on to the weekend, I'm stoked.

For old times sake

Well for old times sake I thought I would throw some photo’s down to look at. I know I seem really vain by putting up photo’s that always have me in them, but I could not find photo’s that I was not in. Just like at Rob’s birthday I manage to sneak into every photo. The photo of myself, Jules, Pete, Charlie and Rob was taken at Town, I believe. Or whatever Town was called a couple of years ago, I forget now. The one with Guy, Lex, Charlie and myself was taken at The Roof. Surprise surprise. I don’t know where the one with Leslie, Jenna, Mike, Rob and myself was taken. Probably the roof. Funny enough I don’t even remember knowing Jenna or Leslie back then. Wait, I don’t think I did but I probably just jumped into the photo as it was about to be taken. And Meg’s I’m so sorry that the only photo I could get of you was with a ridiculously handsome guy. That guy just seems to appear in every photo. Anyway, later. Sean

The Fame Game Round One Has Been Won

I know that most of us want to be famous. In fact it has often been said that this generation thinks life is easier because we think we can make loads of money if we just become famous. I know Rob is on the fame road with his brief appearance in a Vodacom advert and his range of “Ginge Pube” clothing (which I hear will include briefs…pun intended) and accessories. Now I don’t want to rate myself in any way, form or manner. However I do believe that with my photo up on a fairly prominent website, that I have won the first round of the fame game with a knockout punch to the face. Some may even call it a roundhouse kick to the bridge of the nose. The other day I was thinking of fame and I thought if I write stuff no one will ever see my face and fame will elude me. So I submitted a photo of myself posing on Lions Head with the caption “Sean Lloyd, intrepid writer and explorer, gazes over the land, Lions Head, Sunday October 29 2006” It started off as a joke as I believed such shameless self promotion would not be allowed on this website. A day later I checked the website out and there I was, in all my glory, on the front page of this website. Unbelievable? Believe it. Check it out at: http://www.reporter.co.za/columnists/Default.aspx?Page=RP21P64968

Sellout

Well I finally gave in and have now placed google ads on the blog, probably won't make much out of them but heck it's worth a try. There's just the one above the first post, didn't want to make the blog look any more crappy than it has a tendency to do. Anyway hope this won't cause you all to start rioting and shouting at me for money, that'll only hurt you more than it'll hurt me. Of course that's presuming you don't use pitchforks, flaming torches and sharp pointy stones during your rioting.

One last thing before I head back in to my essay filled world, as amazing as you guys look in those photos, here's some REAL eye candy. Later.


Kristin Cavallari:
She can be as bitchy as she wants.

Adventures with Jerry, Lloyd and Mike

After going out on Friday and going out to the same places, Jerry had a cool evening and I had a shit one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Then on Saturday I was bored and Jerry was bored. So I thought “Fuck it, I’m not going to study, I’m going to run amid the UV rays at Jerry’s place like a true warrior” So I cruised round and Jerry greeted me at the door in a Speedo. It looked like the set of a cheap gay porn film. Then we started talking about making lots of cash by having cool jobs. So we thought “Hey we like sunshine, we are ripped, we are bronzed, we like to be cool by the pool” So out came the camera and Jerry posed with a pool net and BAM! Pool Boy for hire was born. It’s an easy job and maybe if some rich Constantia mom’s hire Jerry he can come right with them, break up their unstable marriages and claim shit loads of cash somehow. Then he can distribute it amongst us and we can all leave a pretty sweet life. Failing that we will change the caption to “Rent Boy for hire” That will probably scare the life out of Jerry, but hey, money is money.

Later on after a good time in the sun we started to get dark, really dark. Next thing we knew there was a knock on the door.
“Immigration here can we please come in?” Said some burly looking dude.
So Jerry went out front to speak to this guy. Meanwhile in a sun stroked haze I had walked out front as well not knowing where I was or what year it was.
“Hey you two tequila swigging, taco eating, sombrero wearing gringo’s, your time in this country is up” Said this dude.
“Woh fokking woh!” I said
“No, no there is a misunderstanding here, we are South African. We just happen to cover ourselves in coconut oil in summer and sit in the sun” Said Jerry
Anyway, we had to show him identification to show who we were and that we were really South African. And then it was back to the pool.

We chilled there for a little while longer and then I had the bright idea of going home to study. The sun must have been getting to me because that was way out of character for me. I left Jerry to his own devices and just hoped he would not die out in that blazing sun.

Then Sunday morning came round and myself and Mike kitted ourselves out in adventure wear and decided to summit Lion’s Head. Nice in theory. Actually it was not too bad except for the sore legs on Monday morning. We were climbing up and talking about this girl Sian, who once upon a time used to speak to us. We were talking of how fantastically hot she was when Mike suddenly said “Shit, I’m getting a woody just thinking of Sian”. We looked about 10 metres up from us and there a woman stood not trying to laugh. Clearly she had heard Mike and just walked past us with a smile on her face.

Then we got to the top and spent about 25 minutes posing at the top and we got some great photos. Mike decided to start humping the pole at the top of Lion’s Head but he did not realize a couple was watching him. It was a strange moment. Then Mike came out with another great comment. He looked at the towers in town and said “Does Charlie still live in the tampon towers?” It’s really smooth to call them the Tampon towers when some hot chick has just arrived at the top of the mountain and is listening to us. Great. Needless to say she walked straight back down again.

I must say it was a truly strange weekend. It’s not often that I say I enjoyed a weekend where I spent a day in the sun with some guy in a Speedo. And it’s not often that I can say that at about 9am on a Sunday I was taking photos of a guy humping a pillar at the top of a mountain. But hey, I’m not going to lie, I had fun.

So all in all, the weekend was a little crazy, a little fucked up and lots of fun. Oh and I went to Forres on Sunday, that got a little uncomfortable, but we can save that story for another time. Later rock stars.

Pool boy for hire!

Yes thats right as a broke student and in the quest to get more boozing money I will be on hire a pool boy.Clothes are optional!

Is this the world's biggest gimp bitch?

I know not all of us know of Jeffrey Parker because he seems to be somewhat of an enigma. But I feel this story should be told. Sometime last year Jeffrey was supposed to go to England to coach hockey for about 6 months. He had a farewell party and Jerry drank and ate himself into a stupor and nearly died of heartburn. His parents made a little speech saying how proud they were of their little gimp and I was nearly brought to tears because the dumbest person I know was about to leave this fine (ok…fine-ish) land. Anyway a couple of weeks later Jeffrey was seen walking the pristine landscape of Cape Town. He was still here. When we asked him he said something about forgetting that he needed a work Visa and now he was trying to organize it. A couple of weeks later and he was still in this land. He then wisely decided to cancel his plans which I’m guessing embarrassed his parents no end.

Then a couple of weeks ago I sms’d Jeff to ask him if he was keen to do the Energade Triathlon because I knew he had done it before. He said he would not be able to as he was leaving for overseas before that date. So I said we must definitely all get together before he goes and he said that was a good plan. You fucking right it was a good plan, if he had gone through with it. I was sitting at home last night enjoying life because I was looking forward to watching the Sports Illustrated Swimwear Edition on M-Net. By the way, I think the pleat in my pants has got something wrong with it. Anyway. Then Jerry called me last night and said he had spoken to Jeff and that he was leaving tomorrow( Which is today) So Jerry asked what had happened to his farewell party. Jeff said that he had already had it on Tuesday. Funny then that none of us cracked the nod to it. Jeff said he could not invite us. To which Jerry cleverly replied “Well fuck, who did you invite? The people you don’t like?” So Jeff, if you read this don’t expect to come back to a normal home. When you get back your mom is going to be pregnant with Mike’s child, your dad is going to be my garden boy, Jerry is going to be drinking your dad’s beer, I’m going to be slaying some dirty bitch in the back of your dad’s car and your house is going to be burned to the ground. Oh and all your other “friends” are going to be spit roasting your girlfriend. This is what Mike’s last e-mail to Jeff will look like:

Dear Jeffrey

Jesus Christ I hope your plane crashes on a mountaintop in Guam and the only thing you can eat to survive is big black cock!

Regards
Michael

So Jeff do go well in your travels and all the best! I’m sure things are going to turn out great for you. And when you are flying over the sea in the plane with the loose wing, remember, it’s a Sea of Uncertainty. Gimp

As of writing this, Jeff has still not told me that he is leaving for England, and he has already left.

Most sought after photo on the net

Yes that’s right after the naked photos of Minki on the net the next most sought after photo is this one. Why you ask it because never before in the history of man have five legends of our caliber been photographed together people are just too nervous to even consider this. This photo is a freak of nature and will have scientist baffled if it is real or a fake just like the photos of the loch ness monster and the yetti.In this photo you can clearly see myself,Dane,Lex,Rob and Pete. I discovered this photo on the Bishops website so even though we lost the rugby we still got a piece of the glory.

Pictures of Prince Harry on Thunda ?

I thought this was very strange according to News 24 Price Harry partied hard at Opium on Saturday night. So having nothing better to do I decided to check thunda.com out to see if they had any photos of him partying. I found this photo which looks very similar to him. Today after reading Seans blog I decided to download this photo and post it on the blog but when I logged into thunda.com I noticed that the link to Saturdays party at Opium had disapeared.Maybe just maybe thunda.com was asked to remove the photo of him so without further a do here it is. This is bound to cause some trouble if it actually is him.Hey it might even attract more people to our site.

Why Jerry and Lloyd didn’t crack the nod to Chelseys 21st

There have been articles in the newspaper about Chelsey Davy’s 21st birthday party and how great it was. I was going to write a report on it but I was not there. Neither was Jerry. Contrary to popular belief we were not “snubbed” because Jerry chundered on Chelsey while taking her back to her house to slay her one warm summer evening. Neither was I snubbed for calling Prince Harry “A royal pompous prick” But there are a couple of reasons why we were not there. Let me explain.

Macedonian army

To call in the Macedonian army would be costly. Her birthday already cost a reported R250000. Last time we were at a party, guests thought they were in grave danger because “Two bronzed gladiators seem to be intruding on our turf” You see we resemble gladiators so much that guests thought the party would turn into a massacre like in Troy or in Gladiator. So they had to call in the CIA and the FBI but even they could not restrain us. One guest at the last party was overheard saying “Next time they should bring in the Macedonian army, that is the only way to stop these two machines” So to bring in the Macedonian army they would have had to re-incarnate them(a costly procedure) and then ship them to Cape Town for a few hours. Costly indeed.

No more press

As if Prince Harry were not a big enough attraction for the local and international press the last thing they need is more famous people at the party. Having myself done the whole Calvin Klein underwear campaign a couple years back when I was in standard 7, I am still recognized the world over. Yes I may have dated Gisele and Heidi, but that is no reason for the press’s attention to be taken away from Chelseys special day. Jerry on the other hand, being the current face of a rather large nutritional company is mobbed wherever he goes. Besides this, the doors at Beluga, where the party was held, were way too narrow. How does one expect Jerry’s creatine pumped, protein bulging, badger steroided up guns to get through a normal sized door? It’s unthinkable.

We had other commitments

Jerry had already booked a flight to California to meet with “The Governator”, Arnold Schwarzenegger himself. Jerry was meeting with him to discuss new ways for the kids of California to become absolutely huge by using copious amounts of steroids, without getting caught by the drug authorities. Jerry has pumped himself full of steroids from amongst other things the Wooly Mammoth, the Bengal tiger and Coelacanth (a supposedly extinct fish, thought to be “the source of all Godly power”) And the great thing? He has never tested positive. Probably because the testing for these steroids has never existed, but that’s what makes him great. I, on the other hand, was out in Los Angeles. My good friend Paris Hilton wanted me to fly in that evening for dinner and to discuss some wild love making moves for her new book “One Sean in Paris” It is the book sequel to her hit movie “One night in Paris”

Friends

Myself and Jerry are well acquainted with Chelsey and her friends. Maybe a little too well acquainted. Have you ever walked around Cape Town and thought “By the beard of Zeus, that little kid looks just like Jerry!” Well it probably looks like Jerry’s kid because it is. He has conquered much of Cape Town’s female population, and on occasion, impregnated much of Cape Town’s female population. Most of these women are friends of Chelsey and by Jerry being there it could make for some rather uncomfortable conversation. Like them asking for maintenance and wondering why they had seen Jerry’s name in the obituary column. From time to time Jerry puts his name in the obituary column to throw some of the women off. And it actually works remarkably well. Some think he is dead and have stopped asking for maintenance and have also stopped throwing dirty nappies on his car. The problem I have is that I have also been with many of these women. But only after Jerry has been with them. In fact I spend quite a lot of time with them and some of their kids have taken to calling me “Dad”. So I have Jerry’s kids calling me “Dad” which is fucked up. And with all these kids calling me dad at the birthday it could have been weird. And I am not really on speaking terms with some of the women. Occasionally I hook up with them and then the next morning I say “Oh cool now both myself and Jerry can tick you off our list” This usually results in me being called all manners of names from man slut to man whore. Then I forget their names and knock on their doors at the end of the month asking for money so I can pay my rent. I say “Please just give me R3000 so I can pay my rent! I will sleep with you for money!” I end up trying to prostitute myself back to these women and it does not work that well. So I end up getting a bad name and not having enough rent money.

So I hope this serves to quell all those rumours about why we were not at the par-tay! Now if the international press would stop trying to call us and stop hanging out outside our houses, it would be fucking great. Later.