The Hilton Arts Festival

Sitting with Busi and Luli at The Hilton Arts Festival's cocktail party. Dear God - that hair!

Paul Zerdin and his puppets, He's got
it going on for someone who speaks
to himself!

I had been looking forward to The Hilton Arts Festival for a while so when I got the invite in the mail - so excited! Invite for Alexandra Sweet and partner it said...Partner oh gawd! I'm a single girl in the city. The only partner I have is my Blackberry and even that is letting me down. So I took my best friend Luli (an unfortunate nickname that stuck). Regrettably Luli had just come back from some national rowing competition, and as is customary for the KZN team, he had to bleach his hair white in order to spray the green logo onto the hair. I digress! The boy had yellow hair people! We were going to a fancy cocktail party at one of the fanciest schools in South Africa, Hilton College, and he was going to be arriving with canary yellow hair! But more importantly we were to start the evening with a comedy show by Paul Zerdin, an English comic ventriloquist who is renowned for picking on his audience. I made sure we did not sit in the first two rows.

Not suitable for wine.

So as soon as we arrived we headed to the bar near the main theatre. I ordered a wine and Luli a beer. So far everything was going smoothly. On our drive to Hilton we saw two warthog - a mommy and baby. That has to be a good luck sign. We also spotted a wild hare and a little Duiker grazing right near us at a stop sign... What is this - an African Safari or something gawd! So as I was saying everything was wonderful up until the bartender started to pour my very expensive wine into a plastic kiddie's mug thing. Who does that? So without thinking I said "You aren't  going to pour that in there are you"? Everybody stopped and stared, the barman looked a bit uncomfortable but regained his composure, said, "Yes ma'am" and carried on pouring. So now I look like the snob of the evening, but honestly how do you enjoy a lovely merlot when it is served in what is usually used at a drinking fraternity after some football game? Even Luli said he would never drink beer out of that mug!

So even after carefully selecting our seats so that we did not experience a public mocking by Paul Zerdin, Luli fell victim to his criticism. Lu had managed to sit through half of the show before he announced that he needed the loo. He had been sitting terrified. If he got up he would face a public humiliation. If he did not, his fate it would be far worse. He waited until Paul's back was turned and made his escape... Not before Paul whipped around and said "Yea! Fuck off then"! Everyone in the audience turned and laughed as he ran up the stairs of the auditorium.

Spud writer John van de Ruit.
This is his money face.

After the show we were treated to a cocktail party where the festival was officially opened by John Van de Ruit. Strange as he is an old Michaelhouse boy (Hilton College's rival school). Not so strange when you find out that he is one of the Hilton Arts Fest's organisers soon to be son-in-law. Hmm...I guess he did write a few books and he does have a second movie coming out, but you should ask him, he can't stop talking about it...

By now you know that I love to eat. Imagine my face when I saw the Chinese buffet. We had yummy cheeses, delicious stir-fry and best of all, two awesome Sushi chefs at our beck and call. They were especially a tentative when I went up with my beautiful colleague and friend Busi. Together Busi and I destroyed all evidence that the Sushi ever existed at the party. Soon enough our table was covered in wine bottles, supplied by Tops at Spar, and our little party turned into an all-night-long bash. But it wasn't until home time  that we really got to laugh...A colleague of mine was leaving the venue ahead of our convoy. All I heard was a bang- I just assumed that the man had driven too fast off the side walk, but as soon as I pulled up to his car I realised the hilarity of his situation. He had knocked over one of the school's very expensive lamp posts and  was busy struggling to lift the gigantic lamp to its upright position. Didn't work. Needless to say, nobody helped him, we all just fell about laughing. He had to leave it on the ground.

We love sushi!

Three Little Pigs.
This is not what I imagined
as a child.

I came back the next day with my parents, and would you believe it - the lamp post was fixed. I guess that is the advantage of having money. Things get done. I dropped my parents off at the play: Three Little Pigs, a wonderful, gruesome political satire. We looked at some art and had some delicious lunch. After splitting up, we all met up for some tea. My dad came back to our table with a smirk on his face. When asked about his cheeky grin he recounted a tale so hilarious I simply must share. He was busy looking at a piece of art at a nearby art exhibition. When he stepped back to admire the painting in its entirety, he stepped into a woman behind him. Upon doing so he got such a fright that he farted. She laughed and ran away. He had to walk out of the exhibition with his head hung in shame. Hilarious!

Hilton Arts Festival the following morning 

Whilst I was having tea with my parents I couldn't help but overhear the drag queen next to us. In his most extravagant voice I heard him say "He ran past me and - my God - I have never seen so much bleach in one man's hair since Justin Timberlake was still in NSYNC". I know he was talking about Luli because he had been flirting with him all night.

Justin! What the hell were you thinking! Who are these freaks?

And just because I love food I will share these photos of the tea cakes we indulged in. Aren't they pretty. They tasted amazing too!

Girls weekend at the Oyster Box

Don't dare me. I am immune to embarrassment. I will do the splits at a club! This is me at Cottonfields.

It has often been said that when boys get together all hell breaks loose. Personally I have never heard more smutty talk or had more inappropriate fun than during a night out with the girls.
I spent this weekend in Umhlanga at The Oysters - quaint little time-share apartments on the property of The Oyster Box Hotel. OK I'm lying, there is nothing quaint or little about these apartments. I suppose when you are riding on the coattails of the famous Oyster Box Hotel there is nothing to do but be glam, and for a holiday home the Oysters certainly are this. You have a beautiful ocean view, stunning furnishings and all the accouterments of stylish modern living. Although appreciated, these luxuries did not stand in the way of three girls going crazy on a debaucherous weekend away.

You know - classy!

The first thing we did was pop open the Champagne - but in a classy way, you know, with strawberry's and such; turned on VHI and danced to some sweet 80's classics - Michael Jackson, Madonna, Tina Turner, Whitney, Wham, Boy George - I love a girls night! Once we got all the alcohol out of the way it was off to The Oyster Box Lighthouse Bar.  An expensive, over- the- top drinking lounge. Let me tell you about The Oyster Box... basically it is a really beautiful colonial-style five-star hotel that overlooks the Umhlanga lighthouse, which was built at the same time in 1869. It was originally the first beach cottage in the area and has come a long way since. All the rich and famous stay here, most famously our own Princess Charlene and Prince Albert of Monaco on their honeymoon in SA. So you have to be rich as fuck to afford a weekend here. The cheapest rooms available are R 4000 and if you are staying in a presidential suit you pay around R54000 a night, (that's $6489.40) - small change really! But so worth it.

The doorman was so sweet in his little safari suit, and very patient when we asked him to take a million pictures of us.

Beautiful view of the Umhlanga Lighthouse.

The décor is absolutely incredible and there is a legendary high tea (2:30 pm - 5pm) that I have to recommend.  

Eeerrrrmigeeerd! Look at how
delicious!

We got to the Lighthouse bar and ordered our first drinks. The winner of Master Chef Australia was there, what's his name? Andy Allen or something. There were just a bunch of really strange old men hanging about so we gulped our drinks down, paid our bill and left. But not before taking some classy pics in the over decorated WC.

The Lighthouse Bar

I love a glass of wine.

Nothing like a classy bathroom pic. Thank Gawd nobody walked in!

From there we stumbled over the road to Cottonfields bar, elegantly called "Cotties" by the locals. I refuse to use this name - it sounds like something a baby spat up on its mothers shoulder! We met some divers, drank a lot of Tequila, I did the splits and then we met Jerry. Jerry the wooden Giraffe was being abused by a bunch of drunken cross-dressing males on what was obviously a stag night. I cannot stand this kind of abuse- so I snatched him away (he now lives a peaceful life on a verandah in Pietermaritzburg). We stumbled home at around three in the morning. We ate pizza and slept in.

Jerry, you old rascal!

After spending a wonderful day shopping, it was off to The Origin (remember this place http://alexsweetcharity.blogspot.com/2012/06/lesbians-surfers-and-worst-massages.html )for another debaucherous evening.
As soon as we pulled up we could see a queue around the block. Bad news for my friend and I who had just finished a bottle of wine each and a little car-car bottle of gin and tonic. We were about to break the queue and pee in the alley next to that sleeping hobo who has been there since I can remember. Actually he probably died many months ago... I digress. Suddenly the bouncer split the line like the red sea and we found ourselves at the front of the queue. Good news for our dresses, urine doesn't go well with couture.

Me and the girls at Origin.
What is up with my duck face? Who is this man?
 What is going on? Who am I?

I have a problem with women bar tenders, they never serve me, I don't know if it's because I am short or I don't know - having fun while they are at work. I don't know what I do wrong. I tip, I smile, and I sure as hell am going to spend a lot of money, so I don't get the attitude. I waited at the bar for a long time whilst everyone else came and went. Eventually I was the only person at the bar and the bitch decided to start texting and fucking around with God knows what. I am sobering up, but handling the situation better than my girl who spat her gum at the bitch and then called her a slut! That did the trick and many tequilas later we discussed the fact that women hate women, and then we got into a conversation about how we shouldn't call people "sluts" just because they dress like prostitutes and refuse to serve us. I would like to apologise at this point because I realise that this behaviour does not become me...

So it was three O'clock and I got a message from The American, remember that guy 

( http://alexsweetcharity.blogspot.com/2012/05/meat-pie.html ). He was in the queue. YESSSSSSS! I air hi-fived myself, and suddenly an awesome song started playing and I forgot all about him waiting in line until I bashed into the poor guy on the dance floor...

What I can tell you is that I had an amazing night. And I had the most glamorous moment the next morning when I got into a taxi and asked the driver to take me to The Oyster Box!

Us girls on the jumping castle the next day. Please note I have not slept or changed out of my clothes from the night before - it took a haircut to get my knots out!

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.