Wednesday, December 15, 2010

The secret life of cats

(Click to enlarge image)


































 via @GoDsGiMp

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Curse you nature!

Friday, November 5, 2010

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Steampunk - a gentleman's pastime

Steampunk, as defined by Wikipedia:

"..., steampunk involves an era or world where steam power is still widely used—usually the 19th century and often Victorian era Britain—that incorporates prominent elements of either science fiction or fantasy. Works of steampunk often feature anachronistic technology or futuristic innovations as Victorians may have envisioned them; in other words, based on a Victorian perspective on fashion, culture, architectural style, art, etc. This technology may include such fictional machines as those found in the works of H. G. Wells and Jules Verne or real technologies like the computer but developed earlier in an alternate history."

Abraham Lincoln. With a steampunk jet pack. Thanks Internet.

 
Take moment to appreciate that this could have been the keyboard as you know it.
 
"Exterminate! - but in a polite way so as not to cause offense to any person".
Somehwhere, a geek is having an orgasm.
 
Steampunk Star Wars.

Steampunk Justice League. I think I just had a little "geeksplosion" myself.



 

Monday, October 11, 2010

Is this a speck of dirt I see before me?

Self car wash attempt on Saturday. Car = 0. Me = 0. Mother Nature = 1.

I now believe that the test of a man's character lies in how much he is willing to fork out for a complete valet service of his car.

The only way to really keep your car clean.

Friday, October 8, 2010

This much!

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Friday, September 10, 2010

Morning has broken, so has my spirit

Once upon a time there was a little farmhouse. And in this little farmhouse lived two homosexuals. One was a lapsed hippie, the other a bit of a city boy...

I must admit to being completely overwhelmed and impressed with the place that le bf was staying in when I met him. The place that we still call home. A quaint, if somewhat dilapidated farmhouse dating from the 19th century on the property of the iconic Sammy Mark Museum. It looks very romantic, has lots of space and some really nice views.

Unfortunately it also has what I like to call the Satanic minions of Mother Nature. Rats, bugs, snakes and sometimes - just for a bit of variety - scorpions. I know it's only natural to have them occupying parts of the house seeing as how we are on a farm property and there doesn't seem to be much distinction between outside and inside, but sometimes it gets a bit too organic. "Bring the outside inside" - Fuck off Top Billing, you clearly have no idea of the implications a statement like that has.

YOU ARE TOO CLOSE TO NATURE! STEP AWAY FROM THE NATURE!

One of the many horribly close encounters with said creatures happened one evening as I lay sleeping peacefully. I remember being in that half awake state, where you're not quite sure where you are, or what's happening. It felt like something was tickling my face. In my semi-unconscious state it felt like a really big moth and I reached up to slap it away. The next minute I feel something running down my leg. This more or less achieved the same effect as six cups of coffee and a cold shower. I was upright in the bed just in time to see the rat running along the floor and into a crack in the wall. The big fat Mamelodi township rat.

I promptly woke up le bf, who responded heroically to the news of a mutated rat gnawing at my face with: "So what do you want me to do about it?". I relocated to a part of the house with a seemingly more dormant rat population and was joined 10 minutes later by le bf after a rat tried to chew on his foot. We bought industrial strength rat poison the very next day.

It had to take a rat on my face to get le bf to buy rat poison because he believed, in the face of mounting evidence, that nature was a soft cuddly friendly place that you needed to get in touch with as much as possible.

Pictured: Nature lying in ambush.

A year passed, and in that time I was "suprised" by nature no less than 4 times. A rat jumped off a shelf at me while I was looking for a plate. A rat that I was trying to force out from behind the fridge ran up instead of down and ending up taking a flying leap at my face. Another rat (notice the pattern. I see you Mother-fucking-Nature.) investigated my foot and part of my leg while I was brushing my teeth.

One evening I took my place upon the porcelain throne in the bathroom when I noticed what appeared to be a plastic snake on the little ledge opposite the toilet. Le bf was forever moving things around the house and finding weird stuff to decorate it with, so in my mind this was a distinct possibility and also the only reason why I proceeded to touch it. It moved and it was just as well that I was on the loo at that point in time. I proceeded to inform le bf of the little invader and much hilarity ensued as we approached the snake (it later transpired that it was a harmless house snake) with brooms, pans, etc.

I also have a permanent vendetta with the wasps that insist on making their nests in the house, on the backs of paintings, on curtains, the bottom of chairs. They have the whole bloody Bosveld in which to build their flipping nests! But they insist on using the house trip switches and other fun places as their base of operations. I've taken to spraying the hell out of any I find and posting their mangled little corpses at all main entrances to the house with signs saying: "Enter at your own risk you little bastards!".

Anyway, the view we have of the valley is simply spectacular.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Friday, August 20, 2010

Bookshelf porn


Recent developments in my book buying habits have led to a distinct shortage of space in which to put said books. I'd already run out of space on the big bookshelf in the living room about 3 years ago, so le bf kindly constructed a table out of an old door (pictures of this later).

However, this exposes my books to the copious amounts of dust that settles on everything at the farm house. There's no getting around it anymore. I need another bookshelf.

While trawling the web for ideas, I came across this drool worthy website. Don't worry, it's SFW and so so pretty:

Oh yes.
Yes.
Oh baby.
Yes. yes.
Oh!...
If you would excuse me, I need to be alone right now.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Monday, August 16, 2010

Shuttlecat is not amused

Me: "Please explain to me why my car has been there for a week and nothing has happened?".

Garage: "We are still waiting for authorisation from the factory to replace the cam belt and cylinder heads on their cost. Perhaps you would like to accept the quote so we can start work and then you can claim the money from them later?".

Me: "... Give me the number of this so-called factory so I may impress upon them the urgency of the matter, i.e. I am effectively without transport and am using someone else's car".

Garage: "I will phone you back in 2 hours".

It is now 3 hours later.


Thursday, July 22, 2010

I put a spell on you

Now this is what I call forward thinking, a sangoma (witchdoctor) that can move with the times. She even promises to "make hair nice and straight with no dark & lovely even under arms" and a free installation of DSTV! Call now and she'll probably even throw in a set of knives and a braai set!

(Click to enlarge)








Monday, July 12, 2010

Friday, June 11, 2010

A public service announcement

A very important announcement before the World Cup kicks off this afternoon:


Let's all work together.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Poor me

So, after having consumed what I can only assume was a large quantity of red wine last night, and waking up from a nightmare at 4, I am not my usual chirpy self today.


Therefore I would like to take a moment to extoll the virtues of a good old fashioned pity session.

"But self pity is only for losers who can't handle their hangovers!" I hear you say. Ah, I see your 'Loser' and raise you a 'Fuck you'.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with feeling sorry for oneself and wallowing in the muds of despair every now and then. You have a good cry, moan about how crap your life is and that nobody understands how hard it is to be you, and generally make yourself feel like the most miserable creature that has ever crawled this earth.

This serves in fact to bolster the ego, which has gone into hiding for a moment and won't come out until the world apologizes to it. All the griping and moaning serves as a cushion to your eventual reentry into the cold, cruel world, once you have gathered your strength. When you inevitably surface from the depths of melancholy that has become your dreary existence, and see that everything is actually just fine, hope and joy is restored once more.

You may find however, that sometimes circumstances dictate a more direct course of action.

Monday, May 31, 2010

It's party time

It's 10 days to the World Cup and I'm actually starting to get excited. I suppose it's all those flags you see on almost every car and realizing that this is actually a big deal and not just some major annoyance that you wish would be over as quickly as possible.

Also last night we got invited to an opening match party at friends of ours' house and there's nothing like a little bit of anticipation to get the party juices flowing. I might even wear that hideously yellow soccer shirt we got at work.

What will you be doing for the night of the opening game?

Friday, May 28, 2010

I don't want to brag...

...but look at how awesome le bf's art is!

Rebecca is our source of news at the farm. She's a lovely woman, who has worked at the Sammy Marks museum for 23 years. A perfect subject for one of Kobus' paintings.

A painting with Liza, one of our friends.

And who is this handsome devil? One of the benefits of having le bf de artiste is that he can immortalize one in a manner that is very pleasing.

Some more awesomeness.

I am also sharing this awesomeness with you because tonight there is an exhibition opening hosted by The Gallery @ Duncan Yard in Hatfield, Pretoria and le bf (Kobus Walker) is taking part. We haven't been to many exhibitions recently, mostly because our livers were asking us nicely not to! But this one promises to be one of the best of the year. Exhibition openings in Pretoria tend toward the very social - add to that the fact that most of the galleries are next to restaurants that sell alcohol and you've got one big fat kuier.

So if you are in the Pretoria/Hatfield area tonight and just sitting at home with nothing to do, come tap me on the shoulder for a chat, and we can have a lekker skinner. Oh, and look at some awesome art of course.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

God help us all


You see. This is what happens when you allow the numbers of shrill, 14 year old teeny boppers to get out of control. I propose we immediately implement the emergency culling program before the numbers destabilize our delicate social ecosystem and it's too...



late.

 See also.



Thursday, May 13, 2010

On the subject of exes, or, How I learnt to stop worrying and love my boyfriend

So le boyfriend's art page on Facebook has gone live, for those of you who might have missed my shameless, almost non-stop attempts at promoting it for the past week.

[If you look to your left you will see a like box. You now have the urge to press the like button. Do not fight this urge. Press it. Press it now. My voice is the only thing you can hear. I know you want it.]


Aaannndd you're back! What was I saying? Oh yes. Le boyfriend's ex is a dick and I want to take a dump on his lungs.

Whew! Harboring homicidal tendencies sure does take it out of you! Actually I've never even met the guy. I just hate him in principle, after all the wonderfully entertaining anecdotes I've heard of him. I don't think this makes me a bad person, because I get along just swimmingly with all the other ex-boyfriends/shags, no problem.

That's because they are all decent people. Whereas you, Mr. Fuckface, I will personally disembowel and display your entrails on the nearest bridge over the N1. Just a friendly little warning. Toodles!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Jiraiya revisited

Found some links to what seems to be Jiraiya's personal site and blog courtesy of a friend on Twitter @tokyo23japan. Great, but everything is in Japanese, and Google Translate isn't exactly accurate.

I have sent the artist an email asking whether he doesn't want to consider maybe starting a Facebook group, or site, for his English speaking fans and will keep you updated.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

When I was your age...

When I first came out of the closet, there was none of this "variety" and "options". We had to make do with what we had: horrible old queens screaming along to ABBA tapes shuffling on an endless loop in dingy, smelly old clubs in the Pretoria CBD.

And we had to walk all the way from the parking lot at the State Theater to get there! You kids nowadays have it so easy...

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Disaster! The Sequel.

So what do we have next on the disaster film itinerary? Oh yes, the genre experienced something of a revival during the 90's when all those smart boys at Hollywood figured out how to use CGI. I'm sure everyone remembers:


Those aliens really deserve more credit. Can you imagine how difficult it must have been to get that mother of a spaceship parked exactly centered over those specific targets? They fly all those millions of light years just to have some idiot overwhelm their clearly more advanced technology with a Windows 95 computer virus... Wait! What?!

Moving swiftly along. The 90's had a couple of disaster movies that were virtual clones of each other. Like the imaginatively titled:

Hotter than hell and boring as shit.

And the small town version with a sinewy Linda Hamilton. 

And then of course the 2 asteroid movies. 

The one with Bruce Willis: 

And the one without.




Cows flying through the air. That's all I'm going to say.

Only way out you say? Excuse me, I think I've just wasted an hour of my life.

Then we have the very environmentally minded:

Which has yet another iconic disaster scene depicting New York being pummeled into oblivion. I don't know whether Americans don't like New York, or whether it's just an easy target. The tidal wave scene in this movie was actually "inspired" (read: directly copied from) by a scene from the 1933 movie:


Another one for all fans of claustrophobia is the little known:

Yes that does kind of look like that creepy ghost kid from "The Grudge". The movie has the same kind of dark overtones. I count this as more horror/thriller than disaster movie, but I suppose since it is about a bunch of astronauts trying to restart the Sun, you could class it as a disaster film.

Shame Nicolas Cage seems to be trying really hard, just like this movie.

And last, but not least:
We weren't warned about this movies' high rating on the crapometer. 

But I suppose in the end, it's not really necessary for disaster movies to be intelligent with complex plots and lots of character development since the plot and characters exist solely as a sort of filler for the actual star of the movie. The Disaster.