Solid Groove & Sinden - Din Da Da

Now this song takes me back... I first heard it on a dance floor, back in varsity, at a party that was high up on the top floor of the Carlton Centre in Johannesburg. the city lights were all around me and this groove bit me so hard... I shook my ass because I was a naughty girl... yo'!

Surviving Cape Town.

 Give us a T!

So when I arrived in Cape Town it was completely daunting, sure I had come down for a holiday or two but to just pack everything up and move to another city with the hopes of a fresh start and a new life can prove a mightier task than one would initially expect.  On arrival I had misgivings.  The apartments are much smaller and some don’t even have a window.  I am a boy who is use to his two balconies and north facing windows, how am I to survive?  The sun has to blaze into my home, I need it, I live off it, if you look close enough you will see the chlorophyll pigmentation I have in my olive skin.

Give us an E!

Give us an N!

Give us an A!

From coffee shop to coffee shop the pace of life is exactly the same, slow.  Is it because I am a Jozzie boy and we can’t wait for anything?  Whatever happened to patience?  Or is everyone just smoking reefer?  I was somewhat mollified when I realized I enjoyed the slowed down pace of it all.  After letting my frustration out, like air in a balloon, I deflated to a degree of surprising forbearance.  Was the mountain starting to creep into my soul?  And was I finally allowing the confluence of the two oceans to swirl around my mind and open my eyes to calming perseverance?  Or was I just smoking reefer too?

Give us a C!

Job-hunting is like getting a fly out of your coca-cola, are you really going to drink it when you get it?  After countless interviews for positions, which I am acknowledged as being over qualified for, I finally land a job wiping the counter and serving drinks.  Is this were all my qualifications get me?  Serving drinks to men in towels?  Have I regressed or is this a case of biting the bullet?  How is it possible that a pay check here is considerably less than the one I was getting in Jozzie town and flipping quick lines off at drunken customers in hopes of a bigger tip seems to rack up the necessary cash I need to survive?  Is it all about hustling? The situation proves a little precarious.  Life here all seems to be part of a circle. But a whole series of circles, like an onion, a circle with layers and layers and as the new guy I am not in any circle, I have barely even penetrated the outer skin of that said onion.

Give us an I!

Is it still cloudy?  Why is it not raining?  Why does it just constantly drizzle?  Is it not suppose to pour and clear up.  I feel like I have not seen the sun in ages.  Sometimes I wonder if it will ever come back.  Am I cold?  No, but I find myself thinking day in and day out of when the sun will return to this mountainous seaside city.  It consumes me.  How much longer do I have to wait?  Can I bare it any longer before my skin totally softens up and falls from my body?  I want… I need … I deserve…I, I, I.  I need to calm down!

Give us a T!

Give us a Y…

Because that is all you need to make a break in a new place, TENACITY.  Don’t underestimate the power of never giving up.  Don’t down play the Duracell force of never saying die.  Keep moving on Gaily forward and you shall achieve, you can pierce that outer layer and weasel your way deeper into the circles, getting closer and closer to the centre of it all. 

"In the C-Point" by Juanne-Pierre de Abreu

Here is a little story I wrote about a year ago.  Just went I started getting into writing shorts.  It never really impressed me so I kinda forgot about it.  A blog I follow reminded me of it.  He posted a post about a wedding speech and this story seems to be one of the many proposal moments that run through my head at the oddest of moments... albeit devoid of a happy ending.  Check his blog out :

lovelace-thegreyrainbow  this one is for you my little Grey Rainbow.

The sun has set behind the ocean and a soft mist rolls in over the land, as a final reminder that it is going into night.  Collecting a big black duffle bag from my boot I call to one of the car guards for assistance “ I have something very important to do and I have to lay it now.  If you help me I will give you R100?”  He eagerly agrees.  We walk to the large paved platform that overlooks the swimming pools and the sea.  I open the bag and start pulling out little lights.  “We have to arrange it like this. But most importantly I need you switch them on,” pointing to the switch, “in about twenty minutes?”, looking at him to make sure he understands.

The lights are arranged perfectly so I walk back to my car to put the duffle bag back in the boot.  Reaching in, I retrieve a medium sized box covered in black and white big goofy smiling pictures of myself.  I am a little embarrassed but I think some old school cheese might set the tone.  I close the boot, look left and right and cross the road to the apartment block on the other side.  I ring the buzzer for number 57.  Waiting nervously for the muffled voice through speaker, it finally comes through, “Hello?”

With a little apprehension I reply “Hi…its me…. surprise?” 

“Who?”. 

Even more nervous now my throat starts to croak, “Ummmm, babe, its me”.  It is just silent.  Then the door buzz’s.  I go in. 

Standing at the elevator waiting for it to come down I try rearrange my hair in the frosted mirror.  Bing!  The lift arrives at the ground floor. In the elevator and I push 5.  Every slow turn of the motor makes my heart beat faster and faster. The elevator comes to a sudden halt.  I push the door open and turn to the left.  I knock on the door and wait patiently for him to answer the door.  He opens the door with a huge grin.  I walk in and without saying a word I push my lips against his.  He pulls me inside and closes the door.  He pushes me up against the door and removes my pants with effortless ease.  In an instant I am rock hard and before I know it, he is on his knees working my knob to a throbbing swell.  He flips me around and plunges his tongue in between my pert cheeks.  With every slash of his tongue, I begin to bend more and more at the knees, he stands up and sticks his hard cock inside of me.  I clutch the door from the sheer force.  He holds it for a while before slowly thrusting.  He builds up speed until he is banging me like a ball against a wall, back and forth.  We cum.

Flopping down to the floor, we sit side by side.  He lights a cigarette, has a few drags and passes it to me.   He points to the box, “What’s in the box?  Are those pictures of you all over it?”   He grins the way I had hoped he would.  With a huge smile back at him I reply, “It’s a surprise my lover.  I made a few purchases on my little cruise trip for you.  I guess I just wanted you with me.” 

I lift the lid off the box and pass the lid to him. “Oh my word, look at you all over this box.  It is so cute lover.”

“Wait till you see the little things inside”, I begin to take the odd little gifts and give them to him, part two in my plan, to shower him with gifts; a sparkling watch, a range of perfumes, a pure cotton shirt and something gold to decorate his long neck.

Once we calm down he sees the photo of myself in the bottom of the box.  “That’s a beautiful picture my love…” 

“I was a little drunk and I passed the guys that take photos on my way to have upper and I thought I should have one done just for you… I wrote on the back but before you read it I want some… do you have some wine… lets have some wine and stand on the balcony, there is something I need to tell you.”   He grabs two slender wine glasses and a bottle of Pinotage.  I insist on opening the wine and pouring, “You can read it while I pour”

“The man on the other side of this letter is in love with you.  He is naïve in many ways and is prone to making monumental fuck ups. And he is in love with you.  He can be self involved and completely unrealistic.  But he loves you.  He has the biggest heart in the world.  He will always have your back.  He will always strive to make you laugh.  He will always help you when help is needed.  He will never stop loving you, unconditionally and in whatever capacity you need… he is devoted to you.  He needs you more than you need him.”

My heart races as he reads it.  I feel completely exposed.  Maybe it is too much? What if he just does not feel the same way?  The silence is not so much a silence but a deafening roar from the crashing ocean in the background and it relentlessly smashes over and over for what seems to be hours.  Then he looks up at me.  “This is the sweetest thing I have ever read, thank you… ummmmm… just need to run to the bathroom quick.”

This makes me nervous.  I take a big swig of my wine.  Pacing up and down in the apartment I wonder if this is the right decision.  Loving this man is so easy.  He is an amazing person but am I amazing for him.  I feel inadequate, like a swimmer just falling short of the A-team, am I out of my league?  Sure I am giving it a good try but is this trying too hard?  He comes out the bathroom and walks straight to me and gives me a big hug, “You are a really loving person and I am smitten by your fresh and untainted take on love.  I keep thinking you are just going to leave me for someone younger, but I love you too.  I just think that you will trade me in sooner rather than later…umm… I kinda have to meet someone somewhere real quick, I am going to have a smoke then I am gonna go.” I am a little surprised at his response.  Is he telling me that he loves me but can’t trust me? That he is with me but not banking on it turning into something real?  Am I living a life in love on my own? 

He picks up his box of smokes and walks to the balcony.  I totally forgot about the guy down stairs with the lights we set up on the floor.  And there he sees it ‘Marry Me”

He ignores the lights from below and continues to smoke.  I remain inside the apartment with fear of admitting that the light display is for him.  His cigarette seemed to last forever as we stood in silence.  I could hear the crackle of the tobacco burning with every drag he takes and the red tip burns bright with the backdrop of the moonlit ocean behind him.  He stubs the cigarette out in the ashtray.  “I’m off lover.  Make yourself comfortable…have you eaten?  Why don’t you go down to the restaurant for dinner and I should be back by the time you are done eating.” 

He looks at me waiting for a response so I say, “ummm, yeah, sure… that should pass the time.”  He kisses me on the forehead and leaves.

Like a shy child on a playground who sat sharing his sweets with a potential friend only to have that said friend leave once the sweets are over, I felt completely stupid and used.  This was not at all how I had planned it.  This was not the way it is suppose to be.  Am I just hoping for something that probably wont come true, a far off fantasy that’s hard to reach?  Instead of going to the restaurant I decide to stay and clean up his home.  I start running the hot water in the sink and gently place the dirty glasses in it.  As I wipe each glass till its crystal clear I realize that there are plenty of champagne glasses.  Who was celebrating and what were they celebrating?

I immediately stopped washing.  I do not fit in here and as hard as I try its not going to fit.  I dry my hands and leave the apartment.  It’s the c-point, I am at commitment central and I am unsure if my decision is the correct one.  I am stuck in a conundrum, leave because I should go or stay because I want to stay.  I’ll love him, carry it with me and hopefully he will come after me, hopefully.  My knight…I will wait for you.

And I waited.

Glenn Frey - You Belong To The City - HD

Animal Sex...? Is there an easy way to address the topic.

So, if you have been following you would have seen that I have been pertaining certain characteristics of a certain animal to characteristics you might find in a lover or yourself.  To my surprise I had an influx of emails about screwing animals, where on can do this in South Africa and more specifically in Johannesburg.   How huge is bestiality in life today?  And in South Africa?

"SPCA spokesperson Christine Kuch said: "As much as it is by nature a hidden crime, many incidents are slowly coming to the forefront. Now, more than ever, animals are being violated because a misconception exists that having sex with an animal minimises the risks of contracting HIV. She mentioned that recently a three-month-old puppy had been "raped" and left at their offices in Sandton. Police are investigating but no one has been arrested." - this is a little bit of information that I pulled off the net that really disgusted me.


Am I to believe that this is an acceptable practice, whether it be based on a misconceived notion of safer sex or whether it's just another kink to some people, is this honestly something that is on the up and up?  Since when did we stop fucking each other and start fucking animals?  And what is it about an animal that would turn someone on?


I personally have been scared when it comes to animals... I was molested by a very large dog when I was a little boy.  How you might be wondering yet I am sure there are more readers who might have lived a similar ordeal.  I was playing in a friends garden when their large, Male lab started to get involved.  Eventually he jumped on top of me, pushing me to the ground and began going at it.  Of course I was too young to know what was going on but upon growing up I have since learnt that that Goddamn dog pounced on me and started fucking me till it came on my clothes.  Gross.  Naturally I am not a big fan of animals on heat and always take precautions when meeting a new 'mans best friend'.


I got this little bit of info from Wiki:

Africa: Among the Maasai, it was customary for older boys to have sexual relations with she-asses. Young Riffian boys (a Morrocan tribe) also had sexual liaisons with female asses. Among the Tswana of Africa, boys assigned to the care of cattle frequently engaged in zoosexual activity. It was also common in the Gusti tribes and considered rather harmless, but boys were reprimanded and warned against this activity. The fishermen of the East African coast "from the Red Sea to the Indian Ocean" are said to have had regular coitus with female dugong carcasses.

So, in my opinion I suggest that the day that animal turns around and says: "Please fuck my brains out" I think it best we just find another way of getting our rocks off... maybe try fucking a Bear???  As you can see from the most X-rated pic you will ever see on my blog, below.  Does that not seem a lot better than sticking it into a horse?

I Just Miss Him

So, the anniversary starts to creep up on me.  I thought that it would all feel different by the time I got here but my life just seemed to carry on.  The past few days have been really hard, spending the weekend with a friend crying on his shoulder about the fact that this week last year was the last time I spoke to my dad.  And I just miss the man so terribly much!

I still remember sitting next to his bed last year this time telling him that I could not stand to look at him in the sate that he was in.  Now, looking back, I feel like a total dick for saying that to him but honestly, at the time I thought that he would get better.  I believed he would pull out of it.  Unfortunately he did not and now there is no more time to sit next to the bed, talking about crap or just sitting in silence.  Now there is no more silly emails from my pops or a surprise deposit into my account to remind me he is thinking of me.  I miss the man so damn much.

So to every person who has ever lost someone to the cold kiss of death my sympathy goes out to you and with that same hand stretched out I tell you that you are not alone, so many of us in this world have lost someone so dear to us and we carry on, masking up the pain and the hurt, believing that time heals all wounds.  It really doesn't, time just keeps life rolling along and ones life just goes along with it but the hurt of longing to speak to someone you can never speak to again is everlasting.  So I just miss the man so terribly much.

Due Date

This is a pretty cool little flik yo'
What I guess I dug about it was the fact that I could identify with both of the characters.  On one side there is a guy who can't really deal with the fact that his father has passed away and he keeps having little melt downs on the road to letting go.  And then on the other side there is this guy who is at the beginning of a new life and he is afraid of the changes, he has anger problems and has furious little meltdowns.  Now by that definition alone I just outed myself as someone who has emotional and angry meltdowns through my week... hahaha.

Nonetheless I could identify, which always makes a movie enjoyable to watch - when you want to see how it turns out for the characters and therefore how it might turn out for you - at least this way a viewer will view to the end.


It is funny as shit, really got me laughing out loud... and the fucking man sports a perm for crying out loud! And in the end it is a love story, between two men albeit there no sex but who really wants to see those two going at it?  Gross.

When is it too much?

I love hair.  I am totally into hairy guys but when is it too much?  When does it go from a preference to a kinky obsession?  And how ill I know I am going overboard?

I guess I sort of have a pattern (of hair) I like... hairy chest, down the stomach to the pubes without anything on the back, sides or shoulders.
Is this asking too much or is it just oddly specific about something that might never really come my way?  And what is it about hair that turns me on... is it purely aesthetic? Is it the way it looks?  I mean you cant exactly run your tongue around a body covered in hair.
I think it is twirling my fingers through black swirls of curling hair that gets me going.  The feel of the tickle on the palm of my hand and the scratching sound it makes when I rub it up and down just warms the cockles of my cockle.

Its just something I am into... you know...

Something I am not into, Golden Showers.
So you see, I was invited to the house of this very wealthy man.  He had a great body, very shy so he did not really make too much eye contact but one drink after the other and I was back at his place.  He had this huge house that I was just not expecting and for the first time I felt like a real estate whore, meaning I did not care who I was having sex with so long as it was up against those windows with that view in the foreground.  Not even a kiss and I had whipped off most of my clothes, standing in a pair of jeans - I figured I should be forward and aggressive to keep the upper hand - unfortunately my dominance opened up the door to a whole other game.  After a clever little sentence I was suddenly pissing in the face of this, what I thought was a, gentleman.  Damn how the dark comes out!

After that I realized I was so totally not into Golden Showers, not my thing at all, and granted I did not judge the man, after all I was standing there doing the pissing for fuck sake... I just thought why the fuck am I doing this?  It is not turning me on, in fact I want to laugh... at myself, for putting myself in a position where I can judge myself... Ridiculous!  So I excused my drunk ass and went home.  My embarrassed stupid drunk ass.

(I just need to say how funny it was to try find a good pic, typing up all the pissing things I could.  Imagine my surprise when Kim Kardashian comes up when you type sexy man pissing, hahaha)

So I think saying I dig hairy guys is starting to seem a whole lot more ordinary and less kinky when you take into consideration what is actually out there. Haha

Each to their own I guess...
Happy hunting!!! (I have not said that in a while)

A Quick: Piscean Put your Heart away Today

Apparently I am obsessed with one particular thing today...  please.  I think I am usually obsessed.  If something doesn't consume me whole, what is the point in doing it at all?  To live completely, to feel it all and express so little, is that not the role of the fish?  Or maybe I am hesitant of my future...

From a personal opinion, I feel that we the fish look forward and backwards so often that we rarely to look around.  Living in the future or the past, trying to guide through the current while always having that rear view mirror to remind us of where we came from.  Maybe the current could just stop for a minute...?  Or maybe I could just have one 48hour day.  One day where I have double the amount of time to get done everything I need to and want to do.

So, as frustrating as reading the scope might have been, I watched one of the most beautiful sunrises over the city - it was so pink, like a Jozzie sunset - and decided I am going to try focus purely on what needs to get done today.  Now if only I could find a character for the story I am writing, documentary story writing can be so infuriating.