Verbal Diarrhoea

Sit down, sit down on the prow to wave back
There might not be another stop further on the line
Look out, look out at each town that glides by
And there’s another crowd to drown in crying eyes

Lost Coastlines – Okkervil River

Not entirely sure where in Costa Rica this photograph was taken.

Can you imagine surfing in warm water? Can you imagine getting into without a wetsuit?

Blue Frog

The following photographs stolen from Lonely Planet’s website. Thanks to Dizzy* for sending me the link.

It all started off innocently enough. I sent forth yesterday’s Google image search results and expected nothing more than, “Wow, that’s crazy!” What I wasn’t expecting was for Barry to vehemently support Google’s search engine. It got to a point that Mad Phoenix had to ask if he had stocks in the company.

Anyway here’s a snippet of yesterday’s email conversation:

Dizzy*:   On a now unrelated note, if you update your search query to: surfing + female + surfboard, you’ll get better results:

Dizzy*: I’ll go with the highlighted girl on the right. Not only because I haven’t seen many black surfer chicks*, but also, cos she actually looks like she’s been surfing – smiling, happy, relaxed, and oh yes – WET. Which all those other posers seem to forget about!

Barry: She’s carrying a gay minimal, obviously can’t surf. The one right next to her… hubba hubba.

Me: Gay minimal?

Mad Phoenix: Shhh [insert my real name]! Barry is trying to tell us something… No need to have added the last item Barry. This is a safe space…you can talk to us.

Luckily Barry took the jibe quite well.

* Dizzy’s right. I’ve spent every weekend at Surfer’s Corner for the last year, and I’ve yet to see a black surfer.

My friend Dizzy*, who until recently has never left South Africa’s shores, was recently posted to Dubai on a reconnaissance mission. Dizzy* who was raised to believe in Jesus Christ, was sent to a predominately Muslim country during the month of Ramadaan. Read: The poor girl is forbidden to eat or drink anything in public from sunrise to sunset, in a country where the average temperature is 40 degree Celsius.

According to her recent gchat status she hasn’t eaten solid food in over a week. And by solid food she means bacon.

Of course, Dizzy* is a trooper and wouldn’t allow something as trivial as dietary restrictions halt her from having fun and she sent us a number of superb pictures.

Picture of pretty lamp taken by Dizzy*.

Anyway, before the girl left she had a going away dinner. At the little soiree one of the topics of conversation was sexual harassment, of course.

L: So the gay guy decided to offer his “services” to the straight guy.

Dizzy*: Who in their right mind sends nude pictures of themselves to the IT guy?

Me: Wait. What? You didn’t mention any nude pictures. You just said he offered his “services”.

Dizzy*: Of course there were nude pictures!

L: Erm, no. There weren’t any nude pictures.

Dizzy*: Hmmm, I wonder why I just assumed there were nude pictures?

Me: Because that’s how you offer your “services” …

The self confessed music aficionado: Yeah, I also assumed there were nude pictures. I mean how else are you to offer your “services”? Do you use a different font? Is Comic Sans flirtier than Arial? Do you use a size 12 font instead of 11?

The Cougar: It’s all in the dot dot dot …

The following story told by Dizzy*

Where you at??? I just have to share this with you. It’s too funny, and gross, not to.

So I haven’t had coffee in a while, right? I mean a really good, not-self-labour cappuccino (and with all the references to the good Italian cappuccinos in Eat, Love Pray, I’ve been a-craving) so I head on over to our local eatery in the business park here, meet up with Adrian for a lovely cuppa and catchup. And the coffee is soo good. Totally worth it and I get to the bottom of the cup and notice this odd cube-like thing the size of a 10 cent sweet at the bottom of my cup. I stop smaking my lips and start poking the bugger. And it has this firm, spongy consistency and Adrian takes is out of the cup and starts poking it, both of us trying to figure out what the hell it is while I try not to gag.

So then he cuts it in two and it has this weird off white, almost beige, stringy centre.

So I head on over to the counter and tell the two ladies, “Excuse me, but I found this, this THING in my coffee cup”. And they start poking it as well and then the one picks it up with her fingers, squashes it and says, “Oh, it’s a piece of chicken!”

And I’m like, “Ewww what?”

And cover my mouth as I feel myself grilling*!

And she responds saying, “What? Don’t you eat meat??”

WTF??! Clearly missing the point entirely!!

* Editor – Yeah, I’m not entirely sure what “grilling” means either.

 The act before Estelle. I think this band’s name is Love Vuvuzela. I’m not too sure. I was to distracted by Dizzy* and Cazz’s bitchy commentary regarding this band’s act to pay attention to their “performance”. (There was more stipping going on than singing.) 

Band: This is the part of the show where we start singing our favourite songs.

Dizzy*: She means that this is the part of the show where they’ve run out of their own material.

And sometime during the show the girls stated that they’d perform a little striptease for us.

And like the narrator of a Verimark advert Cazz said, “But wait, there’s less.”

Estelle. I didn’t know many of her songs but that sure as hell didn’t stop me from enjoying her concert.

Mildly surprised by Estelle’s choice of costume.

After the concert we decided to chill. From the looks of Dizzy*’s face Juan just told her that he’s originally from Pretoria.

Checking to see if the camera works. Oh who am I trying to kid? We all know that I just love having my photograph taken.

Tired. I was up late watching Iron Man 2 (again) and reading Kafka. Anyway, Dizzy* just emailed the following image to me with this note, “It looks like someone has been taking notes from Sid when it comes to naming their post titles.” Yes, I’d like to think that the Thought Leader is taking it’s cue from me.  

Wrote this while I was in a meeting …

With my left hand firmly placed against the side of my car, I tugged on my knee-length boots. My fingers (stubby, unfeminine and injured) were surprised at the cold metal feel of the car.

I’d driven to work in flats and probably would have kept them on if it weren’t for the fact I was wearing white socks with a black skirt. Not to mention the fact that my legs were ashen – a sad side effect of winter.

After successfully managing to put the right boot on the right foot (it took me two attempts and no I was NOT drunk or high), I clambered up the stairs to my office. There I was met by the smiling faces of my colleagues, who being bright-eyed and bushy tailed, couldn’t help but notice that the straps to my boots were still untied.

I’d expected a raised eyebrow at my tardiness but was surprised to hear, “Hmmm, that would actually make an excellent photo shoot. You with the buckles and leather straps still untied.”

On Friday after chatting to Adam/Nick/the guy I thought was doing his Masters in theology but it turns out I misheard, I left Oblivion only to interrupt what little time Dizzy* and Juan have together. Yes, I really AM that considerate.  

Here’s a snippet of the type of conversation you can expect when hanging out with us.

Dizzy*: He’s travelled to 22 countries. That more countries than I even know.

And to prove her point she started listing countries.

Dizzy*: I know South Africa and Namibia …

And that my friends, is classic Dizzy*.

*

Anyway, I’m not sure how many of you’ve heard but celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay was turned away from Cape Town nightclub, Hemisphere. Apparently he wasn’t dressed smartly enough. Hemisphere, like most South African clubs, enforces a strict dress code whereby guests are not allowed to wear either trainers/sneakers or T-shirts.  

Ouch I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break
I’ve lost myself again and I feel unsafe

Breathe Me – Sia

(This is THE song that first got me hooked on Sia.)

Apparently Dizzy* is not only a pretty face with good taste in music (she’s a huge Sia and John Mayer fan) but she’s also an awesome photographer. These pics were taken with her cell.

*

58 year old ninja beats up 3 muggers. “But I’m a ninja and nobody pushes me around.” Thanks to Dizzy* for sharing the link with me.

Me: She traded sex for beer?

Dizzy*: [insert some statement about people who don’t value their bodies]

Fahiema: What’s this?

Me: I’m just telling her about the girl who traded sex for a case of beer.

Dizzy*: Oh a case of beer! What kind of beer?

Juan is about to say something but I interrupt: See Juan, that’s all you need – a case of beer.

Juan opens his mouth and tries to say something but it seems my wit has rendered him speechless.

Friday night. Girls singing some Barry White. Or was it Aretha Franklin?Getting worked up over a game of 30 seconds. One of the girls in attendance was under the impression that Sodom and Gomorrah was an Iranian fable.
Saturday night at Hemisphere. Juan and Cougar shaking what their momma’s gave em.

Cougar and Fahiema on the dancefloor.