Must-have Female Accessory

Last night I was talking to a friend of mine who is sad. She feels unfulfilled, lacking in some region of her life. She has an amazing boyfriend whom she loves immensely but he can’t give her this. She begged me to do it for her but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, even for a friend. What she needed was something that every girl needs but something I couldn’t supply…a gay best friend.

Gay best friends, or GBFs, are an essential part of every girls life. They make bitchy remarks, shoot down prospective suitors who don’t meet their taste (and I’ve been told that they have very good taste), make fashion comments and adjustments, give frank and honest assessments that you’d kill other girls or guys for saying and are just generally a laugh to be around.

I find it weird though that it’s not true in reverse for guys. I don’t know many guys who have lesbian best friends. I know a lot of girls who are ‘one of the guys’ but I’m not gonna feel comfortable getting changed in front of them the way a girl can in front of her GBF. In fact, I don’t know a single guy who has a LBF. It’s just not the same. I’m not sure most guys are comfortable having a girl around who will NEVER want to sleep with them. I live with my ex, I know what it’s like. If there are any lesbians who want to prove me wrong, please do, let me know about your friendships. Not just “I’m friends with guys” but “my best friend is a guy.” I’d love to believe the spirit of equality spreads to LBFs.

Maybe it’s because all the lesbians I’ve met (not a lot, I’ll admit) have all been tougher than me. That’s not stereotyping, that’s fact. It’s not hard, I’ve met boxes of tissues tougher than me.

But back to GBFs. I guess her feelings were compounded by watching Will And Grace. She wants a Jack. How do you go about finding a GBF? Go hang out at gay bars? Go hang out at Truworths Man? The few I know who already have a GBF were lucky enough to know one from school or work with one. Many girls find them hard to come by *haha*

If anyone has any suggestions for my friend please post them here. Find her a Jack.

Best Friends

I don’t have a best friend. That’s not to say I don’t have close friends, I do, I just don’t have a friend who is always there, who will drop everything for me if I’m down or in a dilemma, who won’t judge me. I dunno if I ever have. Not one specific friend. It’s always been spread out over several friends, talk to one about this, another about that. I don’t have a friend that I trust implicitly with every aspect of my life. Okay, there is one but the joke is that I’ve never actually met her (hi, Nessa-chan!). Sad, oui?

I’ve also had problems with friends with partners. I hate being a third wheel. At times, I felt so uncomfortable I thought about changing my name to…uh…Wheely. Is it that hard to rein yourself in around company? I hope I was never like that. I hope I never get like that. Girls come and go, but friends are the ones you need when things go watermelon-shaped.

Reminds me of a song by The Eagles Of Death Metal about a guy who’s wondering why he’s so lonely when he has so many friends. It’s kinda sad but what can you do? I’ve always been a bit of a loner. I love social interaction but I’m happy to sit by myself and do a crossword. But every now and then, you do feel like just picking up the phone and saying let’s do coffee or something. Even my imaginary friends are ignoring me. Maybe I should get myself a LBF.

There’s only so much Solitaire a boy can play.

Fatherhood

For everyone who doesn’t know, I’m the daddy of a beautiful little girl named Riley. Yeah, I’m a bit young to be a father, as people say. I turned 21 the month before she was born. As a Canadian said to me “But you’re a kid! A kid having a kid!” In a way I’m glad because it means I’ll be a young father, which is cool, but having a kid is a lot of responsibility. Financially, emotionally, it’s a lot. Her mother does a great of job of raising her when I’m not home. Which unfortunately is quite often due to how I work.

The mother and I aren’t together but we still live together. We broke up sometime ago but had already moved in together. Do we get on? Yeah, 90% of the time. We have our moments. Do I still feel something for her? Of course. I feel a connection to her that I haven’t felt with anyone else. I would never have gone that far otherwise. Does she feel the same way? Doubt it. Otherwise I guess we’d be together.

I’ve always had issues with fathers as my parents got divorced when I was pretty young. I don’t know my dad that much and I’ve always been scared that I would end up the same. I worry that if I moved out I’d never get to see her. I don’t want to be a weekend dad. I don’t want to be the dad who just supplies money. As if I have money, anyway. Have I been a good father? Not as good as I’d like. I hardly got to see Riley in the first few months which I hated. The mother’s friends have told me I’m a bad father, which is just fantastic. I’m trying to be the best dad I can be but being seperated from the mother means things are different. I like to think I’m better now than I was but I have a long way to go. It’s the worst thing in the world being told I’m a bad father. It cuts deeper than any physical pain I’ve ever experienced. It pushes me to be better but surely there are better ways to push?

The toughest thing is that Riley doesn’t understand. I go to kiss her and she tells me to kiss her mommy. Which obviously I can’t do. And she just doesn’t understand. How do you explain that to a little girl? It’s tough.

But when that little girl smiles, the world melts away…

Top 5 _ Love Stories

1. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind: A beautiful movie examining a concept we’ve all wished for before. It explores different concepts within love, the light and the dark.

2. A Beautiful Mind: Interesting portayal of how other loves can consume your life and overshadow love with another.

3. Love Actually: A good movie showing the intertwining stories of different people. Everyone’s connected somehow. It’s like Fish Hoek.

4. The Royal Tenenbaums/The Life Aquatic: Although all of Wes Andersons movies are great, these two are my pick for their portrayal of family love, however quirky and dysfunctional it may be.

5. Napoleon Dynamite: While not technically a love story, the love subplot made me feel awkward just like I did at school. The dynamics between the characters illustrated the fact that sometimes love manifests itself differently to what we’d expect.

Top 5 _ Bands To Listen To When You’re Depressed (or Cheer Up Kid, It Ain’t That Bad)

Sometimes, when you’re depressed you need songs that make you think ‘At least my life isn’t THAT bad’. These are my choices.

1. Travis. This Scottish quartet sure know how to set the mood. Why does it always rain on me?

2. Interpol. Another quartet, this time from New York, they play like the band closing for The End Of The World. Great stuff. I particularly enjoy ‘There’s No I In Threesome’.

3. Norah Jones. Need I say more? Great for sobering a room full of lively people or ending a party that has gone on way too long.

4. Frank Black And The Catholics. In particular the album ‘Black Letter Days’. Written in response to therapy after a messy breakup it’s no wonder that is a good’un. ‘Winter blows through my coat, it’s chilling my bones, but nothing compares, to your cold heart of stone’.

5. Thrice. The Alchemy Index, Earth. Really sombre heartfelt songs that make you feel like there is hope in any situation.

Scooter

(Typed to the tune of Digital Sea by Thrice)

So I bought a scooter. It was second-hand when I bought it, only 563km on the clock, good condition, for the princely sum of R6000. I  named it THE BLACK BADGER and, over 4000km,  it has since tried to kill me in as many ways as possible…

For those of you not familiar with these death traps let me tell you that they are the most dangerous Asian thing in the world, taking number one spot from Bruce Lee. Sure, I can fill my tank for R17 but I need to hold my dashboard on while I drive and tie my license plate on with string and cable ties. I’ve spent a further R6000 fixing the thing which is just sick. I have to admit at this point that a lot of it comes down to my bad driving. Within 5 minutes of climbing on it for the first time I had already crashed into someone’s flower garden (sorry!). I’ve hit pavements, gates, more pavements, almost a cat, taxis, got struck by a boy on a bicycle (I won), went over the handlebars, stalled HALFWAY THROUGH a busy intersection, locked my brakes going down Ou Kaapse Weg in a thunder strom (okay, that was stupid), almost t-boned an old lady’s car, almost struck several pedestrians, nearly went over the side of a mountain pass in heavy mist, had my scooter slip out from underneath me in wet conditions…the list continues.

But then I had to send it for repairs and had to rely on Metrorail to get to work…I was so happy when they phoned me to come pick the scooter up! It might be a death trap but it’s my death trap.

Love

“Remember when I said I loved you, well, forget it, I take it back.I was just a stupid kid back then, I take back every word that I said.” -Alkaline Trio, Stupid Kid.

I’ve decided to give up my dream of becoming the Minister Of Foreign Affairs after discovering that that’s not ACTUALLY what it means…

Which brings me to this topic, in some perverse roundabout way…LOVE. Everyone has encountered love in some way in their lives, some had good experiences, some had bad. Funny, they never seemed bad at the time but that’s the thing with love. It’s like a ninja, creeping up behind you, slitting your throat then dragging you into a bush to slowly die…yeah, I had the bad experiences. I think it’s because I’m too nice. At least, that’s what I like to believe. I can’t imagine what else could drive someone to cheat on you. Twice. But I refuse to change. My niceness is what defines me and, strangely, what attracted all of my exes to me. I worry I’ll become one of those arrogant guys with no regard for others. I’m sorry I’m not that exciting or whatever, I enjoy doing crosswords, stuff you!

I was kinda slow entering the love arena. I had plenty crushes when I was younger but I was a timid soul and could never muster the chutzpah to tell any girl how I felt. When I finally did tell one girl, she moved overseas a few days later. – 10 points. I had my first girlfriend when I was 18 and it was…eventful. She got really frustrated teaching me how to kiss. Yeah, that’s right. And when I eventually gained some level of mastery I ended up in the dog box anyway when one day I was given the decision between kissing her or watching Spongebob. It was a good episode.

It also doesn’t help my standing with the ladies that my sexual preference was often in question. Just because I’m neat, polite, soft-spoken and gentle does not make me gay. Just because my hair used to be shoulder length, just because I walk with a slight wag and a bounce in my step, does not make me gay. Just because ONCE a guy left his fiance and turned gay after meeting me does not make me gay. Sure, it’s a convincing argument but I insist I’m not.

Since then, every year, it’s been the same. Around March, I meet a new girl. That lasts a few months and I’m always single again by my birthday in December. Rinse and repeat. Gets a bit old, I can tell you. I should stay away from girls who have what I like to call Hungry Dog Syndrome. Always looking for a bigger bone…

I actually read today that the beginning stages of love are often confused with lust or infatuation and that those strong feelings of lust are quick to fade. Maybe that explains it. Was that all I was? I’m not even sure how I feel about that.

I’m scared now that I might be too hesitant to jump back in. I’ve been hurt so often that I might end up retreating into a toughguy shell and suppressing my emotions to the point that I can no longer love at all. Although that’s not likely. Hopefully.

So now I’m at that point in my life where I just couldn’t care less. Love is in the air? Hand me a gas mask. It’s career first, I’m afraid. I have responsibilities that I can’t, and don’t want to, shirk. Perhaps the love ninja will strike me down again sometime soon but I’m in no rush. As it was, this March was like doing the Tango, sidestepping girls who were interested. 4 in 3 days! That’s like the sum total of all the girlfriends I’ve had (kinda)! Funny how when you don’t want them, they’re everywhere. Kinda like zombies…But it’s definitely a self-confidence issue. I’ve never been the most self-assured, what with the way I’ve been treated in the past, but recently marked a real return to form, as it were. Back to how I was at school. Except I’m finally confident just being me. Not who I think girls want me to be but me. I was feeling so confident I even got voted Most Eligible Bachelor at my last place of employment! The managers entered me into a bloody competition…To be fair, there were only two guys working there but still. See pic above, would you vote for that? No, me neither. BECAUSE I’M NOT GAY! But that’s the beauty of it (excuse the pun), I no longer care that I might not be the most attractive, the strongest or whatever. I’m just having fun being me. And one day, hopefully, I’ll find a girl who is happy with that. I might have to blow her up myself but hey, beggars can’t be choosers…

Just Call Me Mr Problem Solver

Now, I’ve been living on this fair Earth for almost 24 years now and I’ve noticed that there are a number of problems. Some big, some small but all with, what I deem to be, simple solutions. So here, submitted for the edification of the world, are some of…The Big Answers.

The sad state of South African soccer
Hot jam, where to start? I don’t know what happened but somewhere along the line the players lost the respect for the national jersey. It’s become more about cold, hard cash than the honour of playing for your country, as is highly evident in the case of Benni “Yeah, I’ll Be There” McCarthy. Then there’s the fact that we change coaches more than we change our stance on Zimbabwe. Now we have one who doesn’t speak English. Hohum. And our players, oy! They have the cohesion of a handful of sand. Now my solution is this. A) Hire a coach who is South African or at least something resembling English. B) Do away with our current National team. It’s like we have a whole bunch of one-man teams on the field. “I wanna score!” “No, no, I wanna score, not you!” FIRE THEM ALL! Then take the team who wins the PSL and their coach and give them all Bafana jerseys because they’re obviously all doing something right. Right? Right. And why are there so few white guys? Why does no-one kick up fuss about that? No black or coloured people on the cricket or rugby teams and people wanna vomit on the Springbok emblem (by the way, WTF?) but there are like three white guys in the whole PSL and no-one gives a flying ferret. Okay, neither do I really. There’s that one guy, whatsisname, Ryan Botha or something, I dunno if he’s a good player or not, everytime I see him it’s a bloody modelling shoot.

Luke Watson
Bringing it up (excuse the pun) in the previous point made me realise how much this guy annoys me! Why are they fighting for him to be on the team when he says he doesn’t want to play for the Springboks?! To say you wanna vomit on the National jersey, that’s just disgusting. And I don’t even like rugby. My solution: ship the idiot overseas. Let him play for a team that don’t want to put him at the bottom of every ruck. Like Nigeria. Do they even have a team? He could start it and his cheeky dad, Cheeky Watson could coach it. Two idiot birds with one large stone. Oh, that reminds me of another rugby-themed idea I had while watching fat Dutchmen get drunk and curse at the tiny figures on their moving picture boxes. Take the loudest, rowdiest, fattest Joe Publics and give them each a team to coach without the benefit of hindsight and slow-motion replays. Now THAT’S a reality show I would watch. Winner at the end of the season doesn’t get euthanised.

*BREAKING NEWS! Capital of Nigeria has now officially been relocated to Muizenberg!*

Stupid people
Now I’ve noticed that, in recent times, the stupid person tally is on the rise. And I know why. OBE. Or is it called something else now? FET? It’s the dumbest system ever conceived. Although, I believe it to be a clever ploy on behalf of our current ruling party to dumb down the population to ensure the voters roll is fully stocked with their supporters. A recent survey compiled for the elections showed that, and I’m paraphrasing here, the lower the education level the more likely that they would vote in favour of the ANC. As the levels went up, so did the chances of a vote for the DA, ID or even COPE. So rather than us foolishly thinking our votes will win back the country from our (unconvicted) criminal president, let’s focus on fixing the education system and swinging all the other votes. I mean, really, have you seen what kids are learning? It’s a joke. Life Orientation? How about teaching them to replace a burnt fuse or a flat tyre? How to be polite? How the bathrooms at Cavendish Mall are not there to perform sexual acts in? Or we could just put a big sign offering bunny rabbit rides on the end of a cliff and hope for the best.

The trash on TV
I had it good. When I was younger, we had some class on the tube. I dunno what the rubbish is now but it’s pathetic. Satellite bores me. Apart from about three channels the rest is superfluous garbage (E Channel, anyone?). Even Tube, the animated continuity on SABC2 used to be better. They had these cool spiky robots that wanted to pop Dub and the other inflatables. The robot in charge even had this cool accent that made him sound like a British general. Now it’s like a poor imitation of Teletubbies with talking trees and suns and flowers and crap. Bring back the killer robots! And Robot Wars! What a show! Everyone likes fighting robots. So many good shows. Zet, Brakenjan, Reboot, Spif And Hercules, Shnookums And Meat…heck, I’d even take Sharkey And George! And or course, MacGuyver, Magnum PI, Murder She Wrote, Harry And The Hendersons, KnightRider and Dinosaurs. Bring those back and I’ll watch TV again. I guess those are all on satellite somewhere but I don’t have it so it’s inconsequential. And if anyone has seen Jozi Zoo or Cool Cats they will know where most of my angst lies. The animation is the worst example of recycling I’ve seen since the old Speed Racer cartoons where the same car would lap Speed several times, often in the space of a few seconds, and yet he would still win. This crap does not deserve to be on the air. Do they pay for this? I’m going to usurp it…one day…

Zimbabwe
One bullet. All I’m saying.

Zimbabwean financial crisis
Print more money. HAHAHA! Just kidding!

Somalian pirate saga
Chuck Norris

Current economic crisis
Here’s a crazy idea. Why doesn’t America pull all of its troops out from wherever they are and quit spending BILLIONS OF DOLLARS on its defense budget and rather assist its ailing economy. Which in turn could bail out the UK which, from all accounts, has just bankrupted itself. Or we could just trust Obama. Oprah does, that’s good enough for me. Seriously, if Oprah told her audience to kill for her, they would. She should talk to Mugabe. He’d listen to her.

Jacob Zuma
So everyone knows the problem there, right? My solution is Deborah Patta. She should hound him until he confesses to the rape, the fraud, blowing up the Hindenberg, whatever. If I saw Deborah at my doorstep I would poo in my pants. That woman is scary. You just know it’s hit the fan if she shows up at your house. I think she should have a seat in Parliament and a loudspeaker. That would spice things up.

Oh gosh, I just saw an ad on TV about JZs upcoming inauguration. I’m gonna be sick…

Now I’m not in the mood to solve any more problems. Maybe next time…

Zombies

Oh lifeless masses, how I love thee…no, not accountants, zombies. I love zombies. I do. I’m not sure if that counts as necrophilia but if it does, I would like to apologize to any dead people I may’ve offended. Makes me think of a conversation a friend and I had once about how great it would be to have a zombie girlfriend. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a girl after you for your brains? Okay, that IS necrophilia so I’ll stop there. This is a decent blog not a Marilyn Manson video.

Zombies can also provide much needed entertainment were you to find yourself sitting somewhere boring by playing the “Defense Against Zombies” game. Take a look around and ask the question “how would I defend myself with the items present were zombies to attack?” Granted, the game is boring if you work in a gun store but for everyone else it’s a nice bit of escapism. I mean, looking around where I am now I could use the tennis racket, fishing rod, umbrella, collapsible chair, electrical cables, dog, assortment of shoes, flyswatter (?), coffee cup, candlestick holder, hifi, the list goes on…

Of course, our braindead compatriots have inspired countless movies, shows, games and even songs. As Katie Melua sings, “Zombies marching through the mist make me think of being kissed.” Sounds like, apart from being hot, she’s also a clever girl. I have no real proof to back that up so let’s stick with her being hot, oui? On the subject of movies, the best zombie movie I’ve ever seen is, without a doubt, the worlds first Zomedy, Shawn Of The Dead. It’s awesome. It’s like watching an extended version of the Defense Against Zombies game. Simon Pegg is a genius. Of course, Fido is a close second, a heartwarming tale of love between a boy and his zombie. Truly touching. The Notebook also takes a high spot, that movie had some really lifeless acting.

If you haven’t played any of the Resident Evil games you’re doing yourself a disservice. Those are just amazing games, although they’re not JUST about zombies as anyone who’s been chased by a giant crocodile will know. Although I hear the new one has…wait for it…FAST ZOMBIES! WTF?! Zombies are not fast! Dead Rising took zombie-bashing to a whole new level and gave us an amazingly inventive killing game. With slow zombies. Ah familiar. Slicing heads off with CDs? Awesomeness. Not all zombie games hit the mark though, such as Typing Of The Dead, designed to teach Japanese kids how to write English by making a speedtyping/zombie shooting game. Swing and a miss, boys. Plus The Sims, which is a game about zombies, for zombies.

Really, after all of that, how can you not like zombies? Sure, they rip, rend and destroy but deep down they just want to be loved. I think Madonna should adopt a few zombies. She can share them with Katie Melua. Okay, this one is just going downhill now…

To read a better blog about zombies, go read the other half of this blog here

Haircuts

I used to hate haircuts. I was violently against them, simply because when I was younger my haircutting experiences were often less than pleasant. When I was but a wee nipper my mother thought it was a good idea to save money by cutting my lovely locks herself. Anyone who’s had their hair cut by their mother knows that this is seldom a good thing. A bowl on someones head does not equate to a good hairstyle in ANY culture. As a result I spent a large portion of my school years looking like a mushroom. And not even a cool Super Mario one.

Eventually I convinced her to take me to a proper barber, which turned out to be even worse than her cuts. She took me to a guy located on Fish Hoek Main Road. Anyone who has driven that stretch knows who I’m talking about, that greasy guy who always stands outside smoking as if he has no business. The guy who shares his shop space with the dog groomers. I think my mom had words with him because he asked me what I wanted and then promptly ignored everything I told him and gave me a bowl cut. Thanks, Greasy Guy! That was the start of my anti-barber movement and I spent the rest of my school years hidden behind a large mop of hair. Mop is honestly the only way i could describe it. My fringe was down to my chin and the back was long enough to make a 4cm ponytail. Yeah, I looked like a girl. I used to get around hair checks by combing the fringe to the side, tucking it behind my ears and, beacuse I kept putting it in a ponytail at home to stuff around, it started curling up and never touched my collar. The teachers hated me as they could only ‘suggest’ I got a haircut. My ‘rebellious’ phase at school…

Then some friends on a youth camp thought they would do me a favour and cut my hair for me by way of electric razor. There were a few delays as the machine overheated due to the thickness of my mop. The final result surprised me, I had forgotten I had eyes! Made me think maybe these weren’t so bad. After that there were no hair styles, only a number two.

Unfortunately, laziness and an alarming ability to grow my hair back faster than the speed of sound meant it soon grew back with a vengeance. By Matric I had a mop again. Not as bad as before but pretty bad. After my Matric dance I decided to slice it off again. Number two it was… Three months later, it was back, but I was out of school and working where they didn’t care what you looked like so I left it. I”m a bodyboarder so the long hair kinda suited the lifestyle until I almost killed myself during a surf when my hair got into my eyes and got me into a spot of bother. I gave it some thought and decided I would risk the barber once more…

Luckily, now that I was living the high-rolling life of a waiter, I reckoned I could afford to choose my own barber. I decided to try the hairsalon run by my friend’s mom. As I walked in, I immediately felt at eaze. No greasy blade-wielding weirdos, no smell of dog shampoo, all good. They offered me coffee and I knew I was home. And then, they washed my hair. I now realised why people paid so much to get their haircut, I woulda paid double just for that head massage! And by that, I mean she massaged my scalp…sicko. When she was done I realised that I bore a striking resemblance to Matt Damon (if everyone around me closed their eyes and pretended) and decided that I would keep my hair at this length to enhance what little natural beauty I may have. They would be my salon of choice.

Unfortunately, the life of a waiter meant that I seldom had time to just nip to the barber. Then someone gave me a ray of hope. “There’s a guy here that cuts hair for only R30,” he said. “Just up that alley.” R30?! That was like paying half-price! I decided to give it a go. I’ve never been so scared. It was my first experience with one of those cutthroat razors and the fact that he was cutting my hair with it while smoking and watching Oprah didn’t put me at ease. But he pulled it off and I walked out happy. One of the best cuts ever. Sadly, when I went back, he was busy so his son helped me. Turns out Junior is not as proficient at the Oprah-smoking Style and cut me quite badly. I only realised once I had left and someone asked if I knew that I was bleeding profusely from behind my ear. But, R30 is R30 so I continued to support them with no further incident.

After moving, I realised that I would have to find a barber near me. Luckily, there’s one just across from me and they were having a special! Yeah, I’m cheap, so? I sat down and she asked how I liked it. I froze. I’ve always been at a loss when describing it because they always interpret it differently so my eyes darted around until I found a picture that accurately summed up what wanted… “Ricky Martin, please…” Yeah, yeah, I got my hair cut like Ricky. I’m not proud of it but there you go. Perhaps I was hoping that it would infuse this poor whiteboy body with his crazy Latino rhythm. Did it? No…But it seemed to affect the stylist in some small way as she cut my hair to the tune of “You’ve lost that loving feeling”.

Perhaps I should save time and money and just go for something simple next time. Perhaps a Telly Savalas…