Well Hello Mr Fancypants!

How sad is it that I don't even have time to blog? Deadline upon test upon due date upon work shift. Exams are only 12 days away and the most attention I have been able to pay them has been to print out the timetable. I have noticed citizens getting restless. Anyone for some cake?

These are a few things I might have failed to mention about my trip to The Fairest Cape in December.

I visited the Newlands Brewery with Frank. The air outside was the most delicious air I have sniff-tasted so far (rich-and-cereal-like-even).

These bartaps were well and truly frozen over. We were allowed two complimentary pints each. When the bartender disappeared, Frank and I helped ourselves to more.






This is a "puzzle" hanging in Oblivion - frequented by non-jock, laid-back regulars in shorts and slops. I had it on good authority that many a drunk patron has tried to rearrange the usually jumbled pieces into a complete image. Such a lot of effort when you could see the unmolested image hanging in the men's bathroom.

They're also got a range of games to play including 30 seconds and "Dare Jenga". I both wore a halter top and belly danced on the table.





Not much to say about this. I guess this Penny Arcade strip is now slightly moot.










This was made for a Record Sleeve competition a couple of weeks ago. It took me a couple of hours and it turned out very messy. I handed it in to a lecturer that was involved. There was meant to be some sort of an auction of the numerous entries with the proceeds going to the Hospice. On the night there was only one sleeve and mine was somehow missing. I'm thinking either my lecturer kept it for herself or, most likely, the organiser tossed it with a snide "Pffftt wahaha".

Working in the bookshop can be draining at times. It's not difficult work at all, however there are difficult people to deal with every so often. We often stand around chewing the fat but receiving and packing away new stock can certainly build up on you. There are advantages: discount; access to such rich, creative material; finding interesting items; etc...

This one caught my eye for its strange names that remind me of someone.








Ladies and gentlement, please warm your hands for the one and only, Mr Jack Johnson.

And imagine my surprise at finding out the true meaning of Emo.

Stick a fork in me...

Fairest Cape Vol.I Pt.I: On Plans, the Landscape and Unwelcome Sensations

My approaching trip to Cape Town only begins to touch on my emotions on the evening before my flight out. An SMS arrives to tell me that my free accommodation is no longer available. I arrange a place to stay for a couple of nights after one of the five phonecalls I make is answered. The conversation goes: "Sure, it's not a problem. I'm here until Thursday. I am secure in my current relationship and you can sleep in my sister's bed. She's away."

My Mother tells me that I don't look excited. She asks me if I'm going to mope around for the whole time that I'm away. She makes me go out and buy a cross for my neck-chain. I just want to load up my MP3's. Cape Town's runway has just been repaired and there are many delayed flights. I listen to Portishead while waiting in line, in the waiting line.

Through the gate is a bus that takes five minutes to load and drive us a distance that would take forty seconds to walk. My hand luggage is stowed and I look out the window while I add 727 to the list of aircraft that I've flown on and wonder if there is a 717. The land speeds away in the other direction and I imagine that I'm standing still and that the world is moving around me. The land begins to drop away beneath me and the sky comes closer. I look through the window and I see how the churning, paper-white rapids of the clouds absorb the sun and how a dozen arrows of sunshine shoot through the clouds to be eaten away by the smog caught below.

This year's flight is free of babies and of Heineken so I decide to appreciate a small victory and order another Amstel. The flight over the Free State is the same as the drive through it so I read more Kurt Vonnegut. As we approach Cape Town, I look out of the window. The Earth of the escarpment is hard boulder with clumps of trees deposited like patches of moss across it. As the ground rises and the sky floats away, the mossy growths of litter clings to the sides of the Guguletu roads and pathways until we're at eyelevel with the slum apartments that ooze colour from each window like a fly through a fly-swat.

After another five minute bus ride I arrive, hair wind-tossed, at my pick-up. My smile lasts ten minutes until it sinks into a guilty knot in my stomach. The conversation goes: "I don't understand. Why are you staying until Thursday? I thought I was only a back-up plan. You'll just have to tag along." There is dinner and then there are drinks and there is a chaperone that sleeps in the sister's bed.

I, SpaceMonkey

Soffy, this one's for you. While living abroad, I saw a handwritten notice in Waterstones that announced a visit to the branch by none other than the original Space Monkey himself, Chuck "don't-call-me-Charles" Palahniuk. I bunked work for a bit and headed off to Waterstones on the day in question.

This is from my copy of Fight Club which came free with DVD Magazine that featured the movie on the cover. I contemplated stealing it from CNA - which would have lent my owning it more authenticity in a way - but bought it instead.

Standing in line to meet him, we were asked to write down any personalized message to save time while he was signing our books. He was on tour to promote the newly released Diary. I took along Survivor (his poorest in my opinion) and Lullaby and after he signed the three I showed him what I wanted written in Fight Club. He was amused.

He was soft-spoken and gentle. I think it was more discomfort than shyness. I don't think he enjoyed this type of public obligation. We chatted and I asked if people greet him like they do Ed Norton in the film. I don't think I was all that clear because he seemed very confused about it. I changed the subject and asked him if he'd ever been to South Africa. He told me that he visited a number of times. It turns out that his brother lives/lived (can't remember which) in Durban because of his work.