I can’t stand the rain against my window

When I stayed in Cape Town, I used to always fall into and out of depression in winter. Depression probably isn’t the right word. I’d just withdraw from society and be a little moody.

As the years went by and as I forged deeper friendships, two of my close friends noticed that they hardly saw me when it rained for extended periods of time.

See in the Mother City winter rain can get ridiculous! You even start doubting the existence of the sun. I’d keep my curtains closed and my lights on. Couldn’t bare the thought of what was going on outside.


I’ve left Cape Town for three years now and I forgot about my condition until just recently. It’s been raining practically everyday for the past four days. In this time I’ve been having terrible bouts of insomnia. I’m in such a good place in my life right now. It was tearing me apart that I couldn’t sleep. I even obsessed over someone I love/like. Convinced myself of some solemn romantic affliction. Tortured by love and what not.

It’s just the rain. It has the ability to grow or create an emptiness inside of me. Rendering me helpless to my own untamed thoughts. Oddly enough, I always have a great appreciation for the scenic beauty rain can leave behind.

I cannot wait for it to stop raining.

Also, pretty sure it’s messing with my internet!


“In our future you wouldn’t look twice” #GTFOH

DASO knew that this here poster would cause a stir and why wouldn’t it? Its two attractive naked people with contrasting skin tones. For crying out loud, it looks like a Jean Paul Gaultier perfume spread in a magazine. And the slogan, “In our future you wouldn’t look twice”. Like interracial relationships have anything to do with politics, as symbolic as it may be.

I would’ve loved this picture if it wasn’t blatantly used for ballyhoo. I think it’s in bad taste. Like when Helen dresses like a Soweto street vendor to “get down” with the people. Using shallow differences is not the way to sway people. Or me rather, it is best to speak for myself.

If a picture is worth a thousand words than The DA has for me said enough for the next few weeks. I don’t know if The ANC has responded to this poster yet, but I would urge them not to. This is D-grade fodder for bloggers like me. Shame on me for giving this attention, but it’s what you wanted so here it is DASO!

Everything is changing. People are taking their comedians seriously and their politicians as a joke. – Will Rogers

What Racism? I just hate you

My very controversial buddy @LTqha was quoted in an article because of that thing Helen Zille and Simphiwe Dana do every time their periods are synced, well pretty sure Helen don’t get them no more, but whatever. Yeah, I’m being crass because I’m over those two. Anyways I was in Cape Town for five years and I hate it when dem call Cape Town a racist city. I also don’t like that they blame it on Helen Zille, even though I don’t care much for her.

I’m not even sure what racism is anymore. Maybe the word needs to be redefined for our generation. It’s a strange kind of fear that can “sometimes” turn into hate. I’m not trying to talk about the meaning of the word though. Just want to give my usual two cents.

I remember in high school. I was out with my friends at Steers, chilling outside having a late lunch. Then this van pulled up with four huge Afrikaans boys in the back. These guys were massive, they looked like they used springbok horns for tooth picks, I kid you not.

Then the other day I went jogging. Four black guys were on my side of the road, they all looked pretty “gangster”. I crossed the road to get out of their way, again…I was terrified.

So Racist

I had a harsh exchange of words in Pretoria with some old bitter white hag.

Then there was another time at the airport when this Nazi looking bald guy bumped me with his trolley and gave me attitude about it.

Not so much

Then there was this one time I got crappy service at a KFC in the hood from an ignorant black, because my English has a twang.

Then I there’s the shit I have to get from all other black people looting our government.

But it’s not just me. Limpopo people have to deal with xenophobia and David Kau jokes.

People do this to people. Why is it so important to emphasise colour? People are shitty towards their own fucking families. But when black/white is harsh on white/black, OH DEAR LORD its racism! It’s disgusting!!! I’m not making light of racism. That’s NOT what I’m trying to do, but this is South Africa we need to be colour blind, especially in cases where the other person/people see too much colour.

Okay, back to Cape Town

They paint Cape Town like its Alabama in the 1800s and it’s not. Cape Town has the highest concentration of white people. Truth is some of them ARE racist. Why does it come as a huge surprise to people? Cape Town is old, rich and white. These people cannot be reformed. I don’t know if Helen Zille is one of these people, but she and the DA cannot reach these people with pamphlets on tolerance and screenings of Sarafina. We must just wait for them to all die or move to Australia. Bottom line, the City AWESOME and with some dickery from people who happen to be white. Me I tell them to fuck off and just get on with it.

P.S. People who have the beeeeegest problem with Cape Town go there like once a twice a year. But people who’ve beeeeen living there absolutely love it.

P.S.2 Everyone who’s affiliated with that Asoka place…yeah, they’re going to die a long terrible death.

P.S.3 Happy New Year

I don’t hate House Music, I hate the Stans, Part Deux

Yeah so this is part two, I was tired yesterday. Like I said. Feeling super charged now, and I actually needed rest for this second part. I did not see it coming.

Ah yes, there I was Cape Town, the land of the free (with racism and all, story for another blog)! Where expression is rife and life is but a thing to do. I was the wide eyed small town boy in a huge community of peers. Away from all the Glens and Simunyes of this world. Keen and ready to discover new things.

I was meeting awesome people. Interesting people. People who are open minded and most importantly people who don’t steel
calculators (yes Wel I am very bitter about my calculator). Obi was with his kind of people. House Music was dead to me. House people were dead to me. A new dawn had come.

Then behold, Big Bash!!! Now for those of you who don’t know what Big Bash is, I’m have to take a moment to try and describe it with the extremity which is due to it. It’s a fan-fucking-tastic event, where you make life friends in the toilet as you
throw up, make out with people you will see every day in your varsity career and will probably never speak to again. Big Bash is a page out of every ridiculous American teen flick. Its debauchery at its best and worst. Memories of Big Bash 2005 are rushing through my head right now…I’m lying that’s how awesome it was. Lol, I lie. But ya, it’s a little patchy. I don’t remember if
DJ Fresh was there, I just consulted with a few buddie, no one remembers. LOL!!! Useless. But he was at most Big Bashes.

So I get to Big Bash and it’s insane. Madness! Different dance floors to choose from. I was going to go finger every single one of these dance floors!!! I even left the people I was there with (I claimed they disappeared), they weren’t as excite as I was. I went exploring!!!

I found the House dance floor along with all the non-Simunyes. These same people, my people, to my chagrin, happened to
be house fans. How could this be? I was confused. These people all seemed so sensible when I met them. But now…not so much. At first I thought it was the alcohol….but no. I was drunk to. And back then, my tolerance was lower than our cabinets IQ. Give me a few shots of anything, and I’ll be anyone you want me to be.

It was the music! House music makes the stans lose it! You know what white kids look like at raves…it’s almost the same
thing, only with MUCH BETTER dancing and without the drugs. And that’s the thing right there. WITHOUT THE DRUGS!  So
much dancing and sweating, and they make these intense facial expressions. I couldn’t listen to the music. People reaction to the music was too much of a distraction. This is, admittedly, not how one should judge Music, but it’s how did.

I’ve since had conversations with House Stans, wow. They’ve defended it on an intellectual level, not the “E monate jo” story I would’ve probably gotten from my people from yester-year. But listening to a house fan speak, isn’t very different to listen to someone in a cult defend their leader. Speak to someone who’s never missed 5FM on a Friday at 6. Never meaning, even when they do, they download the tracks online. Speak, to someone who’ll randomly (without even you asking shem) say, “Yeah, I’ve got 50gigs of House”.

Truth is, House junkies are not any different from the annoying Justin Bieber fans out there. And House music isn’t
annoying like Justin Bieber. A few weekends ago, drunk people left two house CD’s in my car. I’ve been listening to them. And wow, House Music is awesome! House Music is still my future! That 14yr old chubby boy was right!

The stans!!! Oh Lawd the stans!!! Calm down! We’re all trying to have a good time. You’re just trying to have theeeeeeeeee
absolute BEST time.

So ya…the end.

I don’t hate House Music, I hate the stans!!!

I just got back from work. I’m so tired!!! I’ve decided to split this post into two. This is the first part. Its very long, finishing it off now would kill me, and it probably wont make much sense close to the end. You’d also be wise to urban dictionary “stan”.

I want to start by explaining what inspired this note. I was doing my routine facebook stalking. And I stumbled across this lovely treasure on someone’s info tab. If said someone happens to read this blog, you’ll be strong. You inspired me to blog such.


Love sweet sounds


House Inspector


I listen too very sweet sound of house.. If i start knoding.. Then knw its dope

My history with house music is a special one. When I was a young’un, my aunt, who’s 10yrs older than me, had this CD called “Fresh House Flava 4”. It was the year 2001 and I thought music had died gone to heaven and it came back as an angel. This album was my first taste of house music, and I was completely sold on the idea of house music.

I was at a very awkward stage of my life then. A chubby Brits 14yr old who could not dance for shit! But when Track 1 “Summer Daze” played, I’d break it down and it would break in a million little pieces. Don’t even get me started with “Rise”, “I’m alone until you show me” and “Get on my camel”. House music was defined for me. It was the music of the future; I was a part of that future. Things were going to be awesome!!!

So I go to school, and I tell everyone about it. To my surprise (because I’m from Brits, and I don’t really know what’s potting there) people knew about this phenomenal thing I had just discovered. My disappointment was the kind of people who were the most excited about this. It was the hoodlums in my grade. Those kids who started getting out of hand round about that time Emanuel was a staple on etv. I actually remember the names of the hoodlums in question, Glen and Simunye (real name Katlego). The people I could not stand were excited with me about “My future music”. As a side note, Simunye stole my calculator (no honour amongst House fans).

This was my first taste of the “Average house fans”.

This didn’t make me lose any interest in House music. I had my love “Fresh House Flava 4” and I was happy. My future encounters with house music would unfortunately be at the taxi rank when I went home in the afternoons. The fans in the case would be the taxi drivers. My faith in this music, its future, and my place in it were tested.

I didn’t completely lose interest, we had decent jams, thanks to Oskido and his Church grooves. I had good times to those amazing jams, Isabelle (which I called Kaizer for a long time) and that classic Come done (also Condom). Me and house music were still not the best of friends anymore. Admittedly, my exposure to the music was grossly limited. I was not going to go to “Fountain” or ko “Stadium’ong”. I would rather indifferently listen to the anecdotes every Monday morning, watch the re-enactment of the dance moves to that song.

After high school, my future with this music seemed more like a distant past. Then enter stage left, varsity. And a whole different kind of house stan. Nothing like the hoodlums I had grown accustomed to, but house stans nonetheless.

This is were I’m going to stop for now. I’ll tell you the rest of my story with House music Tomorrow. I’m too tired and listless right now. Its been a long day.