Thursday, March 1, 2012

The iPad invasion

And so it happens that the modern Apps have taken hold and I am forced to move from Blogger to Word Press for the manageable App on an iPad...
Catch me at Cape of Good Homo

I'll keep writing if you all keep reading, catch ya in wordpress

also, take a peak : http://walkthecape.wordpress.com/

...........

Monday, January 9, 2012

Cape Town is Racist?

So, with my little disappearing act from the world of blogging, it became clear one day that I was just waiting for something to ignite me like a spark plug before I could return... and something did.  I thought maybe some fun times or summer romance would yank me out of the melancholy swaying, burying a lover was rocking me in, but in fact it was political.  Well, sort of...

It was a fine morning in my beautiful city when I came across a Twitter thread that proved how disappointing the older generation is in this country, yet again.  And between who, two woman I so highly respect.  Nothing like modern day social networking to drag those that went to high school in the last century back to a high school mentality today.

So with that I said I am not going to play the 'she said, she started' game.  The just of it all is that someone said Cape Town is Racist, Helen Zille came to defense which Simphiwe Dana climbed right on top of.  This infuriated me for four large reasons:

1 - To classify an entire city as racist is such a gross generalization of all the people that make up the city. And who makes up this city?  Who makes it run?  Its not a skin color thing, its a language thing.  This is an Afrikaans town.  The Colored people make this city run from its most basic points and what language do they speak... Afrikaans.  Xhosa has a small place but the other black languages are virtually non existent.  I mean more black people in Cape Town speak French than anywhere else in the country.  So maybe while Simphiwe was sipping cold water with fresh cut strawberries and crushed ice from her 5star hotel room overlooking the mountain and the waiter snubbed her for whatever reason, she would think twice about besmirching an entire city with her one liners.  So Cape Town is racist... how, why, what happened?
Add to that, Cape Town is a gay village.  To say it is behind times in the fight against racism is absurd.  How would a city move progressively forward in one regard and not the other when both are in essence about human rights, freedom and equality for all?


2 - I have been to a few Simphiwe Dana concerts and let me tell you that the passive animosity I get for being a "white" boy is unreal.  Not once did I complain, or write a silly little tweet saying "Simphiwe Dana is racist" merely because some people around me were not pleased with my attendance.  So why do I continue to go... because its a time I can enjoy pretty amazing jazz, so to hell with the people around me, I am going to enjoy the music because it is too amazing to let others get in my way.  I dont care about color, creed or sex when I have payed for my seat ticket like everyone else.  I am a minority of a minority of a minority in South Africa, but I am still South African.


3 - Cape Town is not questionably the best run city in South Africa, it IS the best run City in South Africa.  Hands down!  No contest!  I dont even feel like I need to prove this point.  You go live in the three major cities in SA and you tell me which one was the safest. Not the most fun, the biggest, the best opportunity... which was the safest...?


4 - Last but not least... why, oh why would a well respected woman like Helen Zille get involved in this game of child's play?  Why encourage it at all.  And yes she was defending but there was no need... if some Jozzie folk want to come here for a holiday and complain, let them, because soon they will be gone - thank God.  It is silly and one should never get involved in political silliness.


So in my conclusion I want to say that racism makes me want to vomit in my mouth and the way people complain about it makes me want to swallow that said vomit.  Grow up people, get over your color and realize that we have eleven official languages that provides enough of a barrier in getting closer to each other in a quest at forming a unified South Africa.

twitter |ˈtwitər|verb [ intrans. ](of a bird) give a call consisting of repeated light tremulous sounds.• talk in a light, high-pitched voice old ladies in the congregation twittered.• talk rapidly and at length in an idle or trivial way he twittered onabout buying a new workshop.

Monday, November 28, 2011

A Slice of Gay Pie: The End?


Published December 2011 issue:
By Juanne-Pierre de Abreu

So, it comes to an end.  It al began as a column trying to understand love and loss.  Trying to understand what it takes to ‘get over’ someone.  And most importantly, trying to get to the bottom of the idea behind this thing they call love.
I began writing this piece when a man I was so hopelessly in love with decided to break up with me.  We had by no means a stable relationship but we were in love with each other nonetheless.
We met at the end of 2009.  Started seeing each other early 2010 but since March 2011 we have been separating and trying again, breaking up and getting back together and we both adopted different tactics in order to help forget, or help move on.  Trying to make the other jealous, big displays of affection, public outbursts of disappointment were all used to get our loves attention.  The silly thing is we still had each other’s attention, affection and heart.
Was it all a pointless game?  Was I acting like a stubborn child?  Did I ask for more than I was giving?  Am I a bad boyfriend?  All of these questions ran through my brain as I tried to figure out a possible solution to our impossible situation.
So what have I learnt about love?  Is it real?  And do we deserve it?
I know three things for sure:
Firstly, We cannot help who we fall in love with and the idea of searching for love is really a pointless quest.  If we cannot control what our hearts want then in actual fact we do not know what we are looking for when we say we are looking for love.  Never try pin up an idea of love to the face of the man who actually loves you.  Never judge love that is knocking on your door because of your own preconceived notions.  And always be prepared for whatever love may turn out to be for you.
And with that, the idea of trying to ‘get over’ a man you are in love with is equally ridiculous if loving another being is so out of our control.  There are no 10 steps to forgetting the love of your life.  There is no quick fix remedy to encourage the process of closure.
Secondly, nothing lasts forever.  Things in life always come to an end, eventually.  Most things have an expiration date on them but that is not to say we should try look for the end date.  We should not focus on how long we have with a person but cherish having a person.  Enjoy it while it lasts and while it is still fresh.  Never take love that is given to you for granted.  Never believe it will always be there to hold your hand or wipe a tear.  So, if that love is but a moment in your life you need to take it and swirl it around until it turns into an amazing experience in a moment of your life.
Third, love unconditionally.  It is the hardest thing to understand and even harder to practice but if you are truly in love with someone, love all of them and not just the pieces.  We all have good and bad.  Made up of light and dark.  And somehow we all try get some sort of balance in life as we play our demons versus our angels.  So if you want him to love you completely be prepared to do the same.

Fire runs through my body with the pain of loving of you,
Pain runs through my body with the fires of my love for you
Pain like a boil about to burst with my love for you
Consumed by fire with my love for you
I remember what you said to me.
I am thinking of your love for me
I am torn for your love for me
Pain and more pain
Where are you going with my love?
I am told you will leave me here
I am told you will go from here.
My body is numb with grief
Remember what I said my love
Godbye my love goodbye.

So this is A Slice of Gay Pie signing out.

In Loving Memory of Mijo Skoro 7/11/1970 – 1/11/2011 




Thursday, November 17, 2011

A Slice of Gay Pie: To Screw the Shrew out of You



Published in November 2011 issue.

It all came about in the most unlikely place, a Mac Donald’s fast food take out joint.  After a few glances over at each other, it was time for one of us to make the bold decision and say hello.  But was it a bunch of mix messages? 
Eventually one just needs to grab ones balls and say to the cute guy sitting across the restaurant, “Hello, my name is yada yada”. 
So I did.  My nerves were getting the better of me because, to be fair, I have not picked a man up in a “straight” area in such a long time.  I felt like a virgin again.  One awkward line lead to another before I found out that the chunky red head is not familiar to the area.  Being in Jozzie as a visitor, I decided to play the out of Towner role too.  Mainly because I did not know if I could trust him enough to just to go back to his place. 
In my luck he was actually searching for a cruising bar but gave up and opted for getting something to eat.  So I hollered at the opportunity, I mean after all the man is looking to hook up.  “You want to go somewhere private?” I asked. 
Fifteen minutes later we were somewhere more secluded. 
Twenty minutes later, it was denim pants on the floor.  That’s just the type of guy I am, going gaily forward for what I want.

Once my little feet landed back in the Mother City - my new home - leaving the flings behind in Jozzie town I wondered, in a city like Cape Town, how do you start the whole dating game over again?  Straight people seem to have a formula worked out that allows for a “market” to take place, where you look at what you want and order it.  The gay world, however, is far more perplexed than merely meeting a man and organizing to meet up again for a date. We are more like a market where you can have a taste before you order.  In fact you can have a few tastes before you decide to invest in what’s on the menu.
With the known cruising spots and easy hook up clubs, the idea of actually trying to talk to someone before we whip it out seems rather bleak. 
So all in the name of research, I stepped outside onto the streets of Cape Town with a head full of ideas on how to make dating a reality or at least try make it into something a little more fun than a mass pile up orgasm after orgasm.

A few uneventful evenings past by before I decided to hit the obvious dating sites.  Eventually I started chatting to a man that seemed somewhat promising.  The whole setting up a meeting time and place was kinda getting me a little hard.  Eventually a date was set.  A late lunch at a fairly quiet coffee shop, followed by a few light cocktails.  It seemed I might have hit the Gaydar jackpot; unfortunately my excitement was expressed far too soon. 
Once we got back to his place, his boyfriend was there to greet us.  Now, I am not a prude and do not shy away from experiences but in this particular situation I was blind-sided.  I was not aware that there was a boyfriend in the picture.  So I made the frame a little larger, and went with the opportunity presented in front of me.  The affair was just like a boiling kettle.  It slowly starts to boil until it reaches point and then it stops suddenly.  So once the sexual anxiety dissipated - for me - it was time to stop.

Almost ready to give up on the routes I have been taking to actually meet guys, I received a message from a man I had a brief interaction with a while back and then he found me on Facebook where we kept in contact.  Now he wants to meet up again, finding himself in the same city as me for the first time in a long time. 
Dressed in my cutest relaxed-first-date outfit, I grabbed a cab to the restaurant and waited patiently for him to arrive.  The night turned out to be a classic first date.  Sipping on the Vodka Martini’s and chatting about all things relevant, it was easy to write this date as one of the best dates ever.  And then something odd happened.  We did not go to bed together.  Now it all seemed very seductive, riding on the back of his scooter in the middle of the night and I thought it was a goodie, for both of us.  But a few mild messages back and forth, it all just disappeared. 

Maybe the point is not to jump the gun.  Maybe one should be patient.  Or maybe, just stop looking; have as much fun as you can and eventually that guy will come around that just makes you laugh.



Thursday, October 20, 2011

Five Sex Terms You May Not Know...

You may have heard the term on a television show, a movie, a song or even a rowdy dinner party.  However, maybe you were like me and actually had to do the research to find out what the terms actually meant...
So here are a few of the words that have passed my ears that I went out to find out exactly what they were...


Reach Around - You and your lover stand up while fucking.  The one behind reaches around and grabs the others tool and proceeds to stroke it back and forth while moving the waist back and forth.












Snow Blow - So you are going down on your lover.  Once he ejaculates in your mouth, you come up to kiss him and the ever seductive sloshing of two tongues is mixed with slimy semen.   

Golden Bath - Not a shower but a bath.  This is when a partner pisses into the colon of a lover.  A sort of 'piss-enema'. 








Dirty Sanchez - basically, its leaving a mustache of crap around the lips.  The way, after screwing a lover in the ass, the penis is immediately put into the receivers mouth, sans a wipe down, and the back and forth sucking will leave a smear of shit across the - usually - top lip.




Cleveland Steamer one person craps on another person's chest and (very important) then sits down and rocks back and forth like a steam roller.






I don't know if I was enlightened or grossed out...?  Probably both!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

To Festival or not to Festival?

How many gay guys actually enjoy weekend festivals?  How many of us relish the opportunity to really go wild and let all our hair down, to break it out on an uneven, rough and rugged dance floor, kicking up dust and getting a little dirty?  This past weekend, I found myself jamming it out in a valley amongst vineyards and peach tree plantations at a trance festival called The Village out in Franschoek.


Standing in a sea of people dancing with a lover, we were approached by oodles of women that just wanted to hug and kiss us and try get involved.  One girl, and she really was a girl, even tried to proposition a threesome with us...?  At that point I thought that maybe we were the only gays in the Village.  But how can this be?  It's Franschoek.  This little town is run by homosexuals.  Every little twirling-creeper covered cottage, villa filled section of land and guesthouse surrounded with epic mountains is probably got a little gay stuffed in there.  Ok, so then maybe it was festival specific...?




As the night went on it became clearer that the gays there are part of a different league of homo's.  The new wave of young guys, slightly emo, slightly alternative and slightly hippie, very care free and totally under the radar, is all rather attractive.  But they are also not waiting to be picked up... they do all the work.  Something tells me that I am going to really like this new wave of men.  This "new" wave rehash of the 60's movement of free love is very prevalent at something like this.  And the men really are taking it to a new level with all the old school hippie ideals right there behind them.


So now we are left wondering, do we ditch the neat clothes and shiny shoes and adopt the care free flimsy clothing that flutters so effortlessly amongst all the luminescent lights and decorations?  Do we ditch the bar seats for a grassy patch of earth?  
And are we trading a trick in a bed for two tricks in a tent?  
I don't know if it is the tired scene of clubbing - the usual music, the same miserable faces and the same barmen.  Or if I am just in the mood to try something new... But I want to do it again!  Taking a weekend to party in the sun during the day and party under the stars at night seems to be scratching that itchy spot of... "I really need to party, yo"
But doing it with some really awesome people makes it even more of a goodie.




There was an error in this gadget