Gym, Thrasher and some MILFS

Irene Anderson; this WOMAN does not take steroids at all - at all!

I don’t get the gym.  It’s like every time you go there all social norms get thrown out the window.  Men and women become segregated; people are wearing all kinds of weird shit – spandex is cool, camel- toes are in! I don’t get it!

I don’t mean to other them, because I myself am an avid gym-goer. But seriously gym people are weird.

I arrive at gym last night, driving at about 20kms – because I am a woman driver, and you know, it’s a parking lot and I don’t want to hit anything. When I am suddenly blinded by the lights of a Hummer h3, covered in Monster stickers (like from the energy drink), coming up from the rear. This giant man hoots before overtaking me and taking my intended parking spot! I am offended by so many things at this point in time, not only because he has taken my parking, not only because he has the Monster logo tattooed on his biceps, not only because this man looks like he has swallowed a thousand balloons... But what offends me the most is his license plate: Thrshr ZN (that's thrasher ZN) seriously, what exactly does he thrash? Weights? Small children? His girlfriend? I am not amused!

This is not Thrasher ZN, but it might as well be - same
mentality - same stupid tattoo!

Finally after circling the block several times I am able to park and enter the gym.

Madonna the MILF

I am a small girl, but I do believe that it is important to do weights. Friends, I am not talking about 'pumping' hundreds of Kg's here. I mean little weights, just for definition. But the weight room is a dangerous zone. All the Steroid-crazed men and women frequent this section. I don't ever feel confident here. I like to do the bum machine thought. But I always have to adjust it from around 150Kg's to 50Kg's. The man/lady next to me calls me a Pussy! I scuttle back to the treadmills and cycle machines, I am safe here. But I find myself surrounded by MILFS (a group of middle-aged women who dress like prostitutes, acronym for Mother I Wanna F...). Thrasher ZN is leaning against the bike near me. Maybe I should go for a swim instead. But to get to the pool I have to bypass the restaurant. Restaurant! What the hell! This place has the mentality of a pimp. Keep us fat and we will have to keep coming here. Sneaky. You sit and cycle whilst the smell of delicious food wafts past you. The second you finish your workout you sit down to a hamburger!

Hmmm healthy after a good workout!

The most offensive place in a gym has to be the change room. All the unfit women tend to collect there, huge mounds of sweaty flesh all pink from exercise. What are they doing there you may ask, they aren't doing any exercise that is for sure. Mostly they gather in the sauna. People; there is no quick fix to getting skinny. If you weigh 200 Kilograms, sweating for twenty minutes is not going to help you! And why is everybody naked? It is a change room; you change from your clothes into other clothes. There are people in there who do not want to see your vagina. We can see into that sauna - you are ruining it for the rest of us! I go right into the corner, my back to the wall, and use my gym towel to cover myself so that not an inch of skin can be seen. The cleaner has been sitting in the same spot since I first started going to this gym. She has a way of looking at me - through me - as if she can see right into my soul. I realise that my back is against a mirror not a wall. The cleaner is staring at my butt not my soul. Fuuuuck!
Just as I think this place has shown me everything I come across this beauty.

Please excuse the bad quality of this image, I do not take
 all my photographic equipment with me to exercise!

What is this; a gym for hobos! Who is going to gym with a wash-basket full of soiled laundry and some Omo - ready to get elbow deep into their housework! I can't do this any more. From now on I am going to jog around my block, just me and the road. Gym is bad for you, very bad!

Durban International Film Festival OMFG

I am in here somewhere throwing my name away at the opening cocktail party.

I am a strange creature, almost immune to social norms and it takes a lot to embarrass me. But this year's Durban International Film Festival definitely taught me a lesson. It has been years since I last felt the need to hide my face in shame after a night out. Unfortunately I may have thrown my name away in front of some very important people. Let me tell you all about it.

Every year I look forward to this amazing film festival. Being a film maker myself, I see it as an opportunity to do some networking and to be inspired by other artists. So when I got offered an all-access pass to DIFF as a movie reviewer I was in my absolute element. This also meant that I got to go to the openings and cocktail parties - an absolute must on anybody's social calendar. This is seriously one of the best events of the year, so, as usual I fucked it up! 

Me and my beloved Baws (why am I still drinking)!

The Opening

The night started with the launch of the movie Elelwani at the 33rd opening at Suncoast Casino, from there we were invited to the SUNdeck of the casino for a cocktail party.  My colleges (including my boss) and I had arranged to stay the night on Florida Road so that we were free to indulge in all the free cocktails.

When we arrived we instantly migrated to the bar upstairs for one glass of wine because we were a little early and quite frankly none of us had a clue who these "famous" people were that we were meant to mingle with. One glass turned into two and I was already tipsy!

Because of the decision to indulge in drinks, we got to the screening a little late, just as the opening speech was going on. My boss (affectionately known as Baws) turns to me and says: "There is no way we are going to walk in on this crowd. We are going to dinner instead." I am slightly relieved, but unsure if this will be rude or not. To which Baws replied that HE is the baws and I do as HE says - if I know what's good for me! So we put our popcorn down and marched to some buffet dinner place where we carried on drinking and did not eat nearly enough to equalize all that liquid. 

Sibongile Khumalo and her band
at the opening night.

Then we stumbled outside to the SUNdeck cocktail party where we were confronted with a motherload of drinks and the cutest canapés you have ever seen. (Seriously there was mini versions of every type of food, even mini bunny chows and soup in shot glasses!) The Baws and I were then met by our sober colleges and that is where it gets a little bit hazy! But from the reports and  what I am able to piece together, my night looks a little bit like this:

11ish - I am desperately trying to throw food down my throat so as to sober up. I find myself next to a young director that I used to know. I vaguely recall giving him hugs. I was later told that I kept holding his hand and that I may have tried to cup his balls! (I do not believe the latter as I did have drinks with this man a few nights later and he assured me that his balls were touched by none.) Absolute humiliation!

The cocktail party

12ish -  The party is dying down and we decide to go to Boulevard, a club on Florida Road. What happens is that the taxi stops outside our place instead and my colleague tries to get me to go to bed. Sneaky plan. I throw up in the rose bushes, then run after him.

Boulevard on Florida Road.

1ish - We arrive at Boulevard. I get another drink. My Baws and I check out the talent scene. We are disappointed. I accidently throw my glass at someone's face. I was later told that when I tried to say sorry he took me around the corner but my Baws saved me.

2ish - Blank...

3ish - I finally get to my bed and end up spooning with a Brazilian woman. I have no idea where she came from! (Brazil I guess.)

7am - Woken up by my Baws. Make a peanut butter and syrup sandwich and go to work!

That is a glass of wine, but I am a sober girl in this photo!

 The Closing

So after all that debauchery I decided to do the closing ceremony with a little more class. I had tea instead of wine at pre - drinks, I arrived on time for the speech. I sat like a lady and watched the film and just as my sparkling little halo was about to shine  I ascended the stairway to the after party... And there were those damned free drinks again!

A friend of mine was in town so I arranged to give her my free pass while I made sure that the bouncer remembered my face. Our little plan worked and pretty soon we were on the balcony indulging in the most amazing conversations with the most amazing people drinking the most amazing drinks and having some yummy snacks. What I didn't count on was the fact that whilst I had been such a good girl all day, my friend had been drinking since five, it was now past eleven.

She had been talking to a friend of mine from one of the local bands and somehow the topic ended up being about women. Specifically naked women's boobs being thrust in ones faces. We ended up at Wonderlounge.

We were drunk, and our  hostess's name was Coco! I was so excited because I had a pocket full of tens and I have always wanted to shove those down a strippers thong! I had been to Wonderlounge once before, but got thrown out on a technicality - I was not aware that you were not allowed to touch the strippers (so when I accidently slapped one on the butt and told her to hop like a cute bunny, they were not impressed). We were ready to pay for our table dance when my friend announced that she was going to get sick. I found her on the bathroom floor... I promised to return to her with a pie (yes a meat pie), convinced that this was a cure! When  I arrived back armed with the promised cargo, I was met at the door by Coco, carrying my girl. I never knew Coco had such big guns! This is the second time I have been thrown out of this club. It was time for the night to end. And with it ended the 33rd annual Durban International Film Festival. I can't wait till next year!    

Oh and there were some amazing films also...                   

Lesbians, surfers and the worst massages - A conclusion

Finally! The video is here! I told you the UBER COOL 3rd Birthday at Origin was amazing! Now you get to see for yourself! What an awesome vid. (Lemme know if you recognise the sexy beast that appears at 2mins 1sec!) Here's a clue...its me!

Durban July

Look at me sandwiched between two blonde's!

My friend commented that this year's Durban July theme is the same as it has always been: C U Next Tuesday (except that he used the acronym)! Looking around the crowd I most certainly agree, isn't it just wonderful! The first time I went to this event I saw the most beautiful woman. It was 2007, when the Boho - chic look was all the rage. She wore a sheer - white - chiffon Gypsy top as a dress, and absolutely nothing else but a white thong underneath. It was glorious! So this year I decided to honour her by wearing a sheer - blue chiffon top with nothing underneath. Not quite as daring, but it was my homage to the woman that left such an imprint on me.



For those of you who have not experienced it yet, The Vodacom Durban July handicap is South Africa's largest annual thoroughbred horse race held on the first Saturday of July since 1897, at the Greyville Racecourse in Durban. Basically, it is an excuse for people to parade around in fabulous clothes, socialise and drink. And for the high rollers to bet on horses. This year's main race was for a cool 3 Million Rand, won by Pomodoro, and ridden by Piere 'Striker' Strydom.One thing that you absolutely must experience is the race commentators during the main race. It is an absolute hilarity the way they commentate in the traditional manner of speaking at an absolute pace, but then dragging the last syllable of every sentence in a way that sounds as if they have a blocked nose. This year was particularly funny because the two horses: Pomodoro and Smanjemanje were neck and neck on the final straight. Block your nose and say Smanjemanje!  

Neck and neck is Pomodoro and Smanjemanjeeeeeeeeeee

I took full advantage of my position in the media, having received free entrance, free picnic site, free entry into the G&G Marquee and some sort of "VIP" entry into one of the local nightclubs. (I think they just call it VIP so it sounds posh, when it's really just a scam to get more girls into the club - I was not fooled). It all sounds rather glam, but the truth is that all the free booze meant that I was unable to fully appreciate all these gifts. I had not learned from the past and was found drinking in the sun. By the time it got dark I had no intention of going anywhere. I ended up at the G&G Marquee with one of my girls, drunk, and trying to fit in with our posh counterparts, (you know, the ones that actually paid R980 for their tickets). I do believe they saw right through more than my blouse.

Many names thrown away at the G&G Marquee 

We had landed right there in the mother ship of ZAlebs. Mingling with 2000 guests, we were bound to bump into a few familiar faces; Gareth Cliff,  Roger Goode, DJ Fresh, ChinoSky, Veranda Panda, DJ Blair, Sp!ndoctor and company were there to entertain. Scandal of the night  (for me any-ways) was Lyndall Jarvis and South Africa's number one surfer, Jordy Smith looking all cosy on the couches next to us. Forgive me friends, but what happened to the fiancée Denton Blomquist? And the fiancée before that? Don't get me wrong - I love surfers, but that Denton was a peach!  

Gareth Cliff - apparently bi now - certainly knows how to
work that mike like a little bitch...I mean that in a fellatio kinda way!

Boring...

I dated Denton's cousin Ed -
Just have to brag!  

How do you  go from


<THIS

To THIS>          


                    


                                                                                                              






I learned many lessons that night. 
First: Do not wear heels to the July, I do it every year and I regret it every year. If you must, make sure that you stand properly - like a lady because there are cameras everywhere. You put yourself in that situation - deal with it baby!
Second: Yes, you look hot in that prostitute skirt, but take a jacket. You will look very unglamorous when you are shivering like a scared, wet rat because the wind has picked up and the sun has gone down in the middle of July.
Third: Do not make friends with the Aussies you made out with the night before. Once you sober up you will realise that they have been yelling "She's only with me for the passport" the entire day. 
Forth: Do not order the Debonairs Tikka Chicken, it's damn hot! And never, never order it when drunk, that hot sauce will end up everywhere, in your eyes, nose, ears...not pleasant! And wash your hands before going to the loo, I said BEFORE!
Fifth: Friends, do not get into the first taxi you see, it is cheap for a reason.


While I did not go to the Durban July for the horse racing, there was one race that I really paid attention to; The Thirteenth race. You know... the one at the end where the men folk take all their clothes off and do the hundred meter dash down the straight. Excellent...

Please bring back the horses!

Top Gear, Big money Ching Ching

Jeremy Clarkson's electric car Geoff from S14 E2.

Ahhhh, old money, so classy, can you smell it?

There is a difference between old money and new money. Old money dictates that one should never talk about how much money one has. Old money does not need to dress in bling, its fashion is understated - glamorous but understated. You see, Old money does not need to advertise its wealth because everybody already knows how filthy rich it is. It is OK, for example, for Old money to have a house full of tatty ragged carpets, those, my dear, are silk Isfahan rugs from central Persia, circa 1600 dontcha know! "Yes that horrid one there was given to me by my great aunt Winifred, and I simply cannot get rid of it" Old money says.

New money, on the other hand, does not know the meaning of the word: understated. New money is only satisfied with a carpet if it is sparkling - solid gold with real diamonds and rubies, and even then it is only happy if the carpet is on the latest episode of Cribs. New money rubs its fortune in every bodies face, exclaiming loudly "twenty million for a dog bowl - such a steal, I'll have two"!

New money... Is it necessary to have a TV in your trunk?
No, but my neighbour doesn't have one so I win! 

Nothing screams new money like a pimped out car, and at this year's Top Gear Festival in Durban one could not help but be deafened by the screams! Yes friends, I was there. And it was wonderful! I am a huge fan so I could not pass up the opportunity to see my beloved Jeremy Clarkson, James May and Richard Hammond. My colleges were equally thrilled because it meant that I could finally give an answer to the question: Is Richard - The Hamster- Hammond really that small? Yes, yes the answer is yes, the man is short! 

Here he is inside his new pink sports car!

 The eThekwini Metro and provincial government has set aside R31 million to host this festival over the next three years, and I would say that this is money well spent. The Moses Mabhida Stadium, Peoples Park and Street Circuit were used to host Top Gear's biggest live event in front of their largest audience to date. There were so many sexy cars and bottles of champers; I had to keep my eye out for my future husband. I actually had a hard time keeping my eyes on anything other than alcohol and it turns out that it is a very bad idea to drink in the sun. 

Look at this beauty! I heard several women complaining that they would have to  slide away from her.
Looking under foot I did notice that the ground had become a bit slippery!

By the time I got into the stadium to watch the main show I was positively fooked! Do not despair, I soon sobered up when the beloved trio entered the stadium. 
I saw chariots made of Vespa's, I saw car football, a man doing flips over sports cars, car skittles and of course the new Top Gear trick on every bodies lips... The Deadly 720 Loop, a world first. 
These stunts were amazing and you can watch them in your own time on Youtube. 

Kie Willis does a side flip

But I need to show you a specific incident which took place at this festival in order to demonstrate what happens when new money enters into a space which is traditionally reserved for old money. (Be advised, this video is not suitable for a sensitive audience, it is in fact very disturbing! You have been warned).

This behaviour is typical of new money. You see, no matter how rich you have become, there will always be that element of your personality which is better suited to its old lifestyle… in the trailer park. The truth is that a Hood Rat will always be a Hood Rat, even if you paid lots of money for a car show.

Lesbians, surfers and the worst massages

Look at me go, pure enjoyment!

 There is a difference between lesbians and dykes. A lesbian is every man's (or woman's) fantasy of a delicious pair of beauties having some fun, being sexy and sharing their love with the world...I wish I was a lesbian. Dykes on the other hand, I don't understand, too much camo and dog-tags. If you want to be with a man, then why are you with a woman dressed as a man? Interesting thought, you might say. But what does this have to do with the 3rd birthday party at The Origin? I will tell you...

This is a dyke

I am a bit of a snob when it comes to where and how I spend my time, perhaps 'snob' isn't the right word. It's just that life is so short and unpredictable that I would rather spend mine having as much fun as possible. Life is too precious to spend being surrounded by ugliness, stale smoke and broken bottles, this is the reason that The Origin (9 Clark Road, Durban) has to be one of my favourite clubs. "Durban's most stylish and exclusive entertainment venue" (http://www.theorigin.co.za/), is set across three levels in the historic Winston Hotel. It features four dance floors, amazing "talk to that handsome stranger areas", bars, balconies and a roof garden. It's the kind of spot you can go to in your  Sunday best and not have to worry about getting your heels stuck on some sleeping hobo in the corner. In fact, what I love about Origin is that nobody dresses like a hobo! The club is always packed with attractiveness, men, women, whatever - everybody is sexay!

The main attraction has to be The Engine Room, the downstairs dance floor where two of my favourite South African acts were playing; PH Fat and Haezer. So after a few tequilas and many hours on the dance floor I found myself on stage dancing next to a gang (or gaggle) of lesbians - beautiful girls. In preparation for The Origin's third birthday (I mention my excitement in the previous blog) I had got all my eight hours of sleep the previous night. I was ready for this. That's what I thought... What I didn't expect was to be kissed on the mouth and told that I "will get involved". Friends I am not sure what they meant by this but luckily before I had time to find out Haezer kicked the party up a gear with WTFIH. 

Let me explain this photo... as I said, I was told by these lovely ladies to get involved. The blond suggested that it would be an amazing idea if we all lifted our shirts for this photo. Then I laughed hysterically...

So there I was dancing like a loon on stage when South American/ South African popped up along side me. (Remember that guy). He had his signature Red Devil in hand and a smile that let me know that tonight was just beginning. We made our way onto the rooftop garden where we were met by a group of his surfer friends. After a half-an-hour earful of surfing  I received the most amazing massage from the South American, heaven. Until his friend, a man named Dingo, jumped in. I have never known a man with such stubby little fingers, I was in so much pain I had to call it a night. It was four am after all.  


I awoke the next morning with a sore body and strange bruises on my neck and shoulders. Chunks of hair was missing from my scalp. I was later told that Dingo had tried to brush out my knots... It was all worth it though!

Deliciousness

This peaceful young lady is not me...

This weekend saw the start of the annual Kadampa Buddhist festival in Mooiriver, on the foothills of the Drakensberg. It promised to be a weekend of quiet relaxation and meditation, surrounded by peaceful ravines, tweeting birds and Buddhist monks.

So there I was on Friday night confronted by my usual dilemma of what to pack and what to wear, how many pairs of heels are appropriate for two days...never mind the Buddhist retreat - I was off to Durban for a weekend party!

Paneer Palak

Before you get all excited about  my thrasher of a weekend let me say that I had a quiet one, a good weekend, but rather quiet...It started with Friday nights dinner at a quaint little Indian restaurant in Pietermaritzburg called Tandoor.  This has to be one of my all time favourite restaurants because the food is so amazing! But more importantly, the owners wear turbans which just makes the dining experience that much more authentic. Pietermaritzburg is a city that leaves a lot to be desired, but it often surprises with scatterings of such gems. So named because of the clay oven that the food is prepared in, Tandoor is located in upper Bulwer Street, far from the bustle of the city centre. My favourite dish is the Paneer Palak, it looks like a crazy mixture of mowed grass and braai lighters, but it tastes like a dream. I get it every time I eat here. The fun part of this dining experience, other than the bottles of wine we took with, is that the food is presented in an ensemble fashion so I get to taste everyone's food without looking rude.

My homies- head chef Jasbir Singh (left) and  co- owner  Jaswant Singh (right) hail from Punjab in India.

Saturday saw a mildly shaky start with complements of the previous nights merlot. But I was soon on my way, starting with a farewell braai for my German friend at Amsterdam bar in Davenport Road, Glenwood Durban. Formally known as Rocker Bar, Amsties has an awesome, relaxed vibe, I have spent many a night there taking advantage of the half price specials.
 The braai soon turned into an amazing full night party. The most memorable moment has to be getting a lap dance from a man dressed as a hooker for his bachelors party. I may have touched his naked bum as he swung around a wooden pole outside. The German ordered two kegs and many frozen tequilas so I vaguely remember a peck on the cheek from a handsome man with a chiseled jawline, I am hoping this was not a dream. It could have been though...

Amsties, just a regular place, you know...with fire dancers etc...

To end a food filled weekend, my besties and I went to an all-you-can-eat Sushi bar in Umhlanga called Bamboo Lounge.  The name even sounds delicious, it conjures up all kinds of images of pandas eating in forests and frolicking around, perhaps some butterflies floating yonder... Seriously friends ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT! what we do is sit at the bar so that when the sushi is put out we get first dibs on all the delicious sushi, we leave all the boring stuff to the rest of the patrons. Their fault, they weren't fast enough!

This is too tempting

So that is the end of my delicious weekend, what a goodie. Next weekend is going to be amazing, here is a little preview for you. I better get some sleep.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S-L746gczkQ&feature=related (this is my most favourite Haezer melody/ song/ leid ).

Friday is going to be insane!