Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Return of the Prodigal

I stumbled back onto this blog today, after months Sabbatical spend dabbling in the world of “Micro blogging”, to find I have double as many followers as I did when I was in my blogging prime. Just like the wealth that most artists come into after they die, or rather don’t come into, I now realise I’ve been at the point of street recognition yet I haven’t been making eye contact.

In the past few minutes of reflection I can see that this blog was built to close to the shore rather than on the rock of variety. Craig “The Boom” Johns told me in passing a while ago that my blog is only funny because it features him 90% of the time. Now that he has been away for a couple of months I realised my inspiration flowed out of his everyday life.

C-The-Boom (The Prodigal son) returned to the fathers estate disrespectfully late last night with the critical potjie ingredient which had caused a massive delay in the supper time.

There had already been banter between the older brothers on the unappreciative nature of guests towards their curry speciality which had caused older brother Webby to lose an estimated R7k on the book value of his new Corsa during the transportation process.

During the grumblings The Boom stated that the older brothers, who had been tending to the estate and The Booms interests all along, curry was “siff”. The language that followed has to this day never been heard above the railway tracks.

Brother Carib, who had recently received a traditional Sami (not a zonk but rather a type of person) knife from his goose which he had strapped around his bandwagon after earlier use into the side of a taxi who had cut him off, took out his knife and told the Boom that if he didn’t wash his mouth clean of the disrespect he would perform an operation which the Boom never received as a baby because his parents were neither Jewish nor had any care for his future hygiene maintenance. Carib reckoned it would be a 10% reduction, he has know the Boom since early childhood so I think it’s a pretty reliable stat.

Brother Webby showed The Boom a graphical illustration of the outcome with a piece of calamari:

This week I have been listening to Harbour Light, and eating at Harbour House.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Why the dreadies?

I have reached the stage that all bloggers dream about. Fame.

I now receive letters and pictures from fans everywhere. One letter I promised to publish is from my dear house lady Concillia:

Dear Blackie


I would like to say thanks on the interweb to brutha Carib. He protected my from a taxi driver who was trying to flirt with my by saying he was my husband and shouting at him. Nicely was very happy to heer how Carib and C-Booom look after my.

Its me Concillia


P.S. My new tv comes on Saturday, so I will be taking your bedside table home on Friday. I will just leave all you things you store on and in it on the floor. Thanks

Brother Carib is a revered force of justice in the Wood Stock district. Upon closer examination I have come to understand where a large deal of his strength lies. Like Samson, it’s in the dreadies.

The first time I suspected this was the secret was the time of Puff the magic Dragon wielding Albino man. When I arrived on the scene Carib had already battled his way around the dragon and had Alby imprisoned on the balcony. I was unaware of how he had single handedly won the battle inside but I was given a glimpse of his technique when Alby became restless and Carib unleashed the windmill. Most would say, that’s a school boy trick but here is where the secret weapon came in- the dreadies. As the windmill began the dreadies got caught up in a whirlwind force projecting them forward to lash the opponent wildly in the face and eyes rendering him helpless as the full force of the windmill deals the blows.

A few days ago Carib apprehended a man trying to steal our neighbours bike. I arrived home to this man cleaning the street and washing all the cars with no supervision. I only made sense of this when I saw the fear of the dreadies in his eyes. If you take a walk with Carib in Woodstock you will in all probability see grown men turn and run away at the site of the dreadies coming.

This is one of the reasons why I grow my hair.

Massive respect

Thursday, May 13, 2010


There is nothing unusual about this picture. Until you understand the man and the time. This man (simply persia) complains daily about his time in the mine. In fact he signs off his emails "wttb pap". I used to believe that this statement was true until I arrived at this location at 1:15pm on a Thursday to find the above.

Then he proceeded to make himself a steak and salad zonk and a cuppa P.Lizzies finest (Mastertons).

My thoughts: Send this man out into the streets with printer brochures, a Gestetner shirt and free mouse pads.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Getting yourself out of the Desert of Singledom

This guide compiled by the one and only Craig the Bomb Johns is more than just a guide to winning the bird you’ve always wanted. It’s a guide to winning the bird you’ve always wanted and getting her to drive you everywhere in her car because you don’t have your own. It’s a pretty phenomenal compilation of strategic moves. This man is an icon, yet so little has been documented about his techniques and strategy.

This is my tribute, my salute, to one of the greats.

I was only able to capture a few of his carefully planned moves but here they are:

  • He went to India to buy stones. Don't do this without months and in his case years of knowing how to know a deal. The grand master C-bomb spends more time on the Gumtree per day than he sleeps.

  • He learnt her love language – German.

  • He spent late nights talking on the phone to the bird melting her mind with German love poems after he bamboozaled her with the stones.

  • He obtained the V. To achieve this he sacrificed beer, even free beer. And he ate oats everyday only occasionally treating himself to Maltonia(see your closest Shoprite for this, in the millipap isle). Extra tip, if you dont have a sink plug at home- leave the last scraps of your Maltonia bowl in the sink and it will seal your sink tighter than any plug could. Maltonia differs chemically from plastic in 1% of its properties.

  • He learnt to sew. On Valentines day he sewed a red heart onto a shirt for his goose.

  • He learnt musical instruments, he specialised in the harmonica and the guitar. In group settings he also likes the cowbell.

  • He spend lots of time with her in the green room. The photo is actually the green room at home affairs, but the idea is similar. This is also where he will be collecting his German passport one day.

These are but a few things that C-bomb did to win the heart of his goose. Single people, take notes or even better- print this out and put it in your wallet.

Bloggers block

The truth is that my life isn't that bloggable. There are many people that think their lives are blogable, 98% of them are delusional.

I could speak of general peaks in my week like which of these chairs do I chose to buy as my new office chair?

My gut feel is dark but I love the gold carvings on the legs of the ligher one.

Or I could blog of the new shortcuts I learn in excel, or how I switched from Sasko to Low GI when I made my snackwhich last Thursday.

This stuff just isn't interesting.

But on Friday I arrived home to a full new pleather couch set, which was purchased for a lubriciously small amount of cash. And in that moment I realised that I am living with an Eastern Pioneer called the C-Bomb, and he has ideas worth following.

If he wrote a book called "10 ways to be the bomb" I'd definitely download the pdf off Piratebay.

Last week was his goose's birthday and he performed acts which are highly against the "guys that live together with other guys who have girlfriends who are constantly around" code. He wrapped teapots and put them in his goose's spare wheel; he painted numerous pictures and used a stencil to write a card; he made love song cds; and he sang a german love song which he translated out of his miniature antique German dictionary; and that was the night before the birthday. Because he is my friend I chose to turn a blind eye on the rest of his behaviour the next day.

Because I am not sure "10 ways to be the bomb" will every go to print I will publish my version of "C-Bombs guide to getting out of the desert of singledom" in my next blog.


Friday, March 12, 2010

Eastern Pioneers

My brothers, Cbomb and Calbomb, who dwell with me are from P-Lizzie(Port Elizabeth).

They do many things in life but if you peal all those layers away at the heart of things they are traders (see pic, Cbomb bought those lollies from Gatties in bulk for a bomb deal).

They are what one would call "Fashionistas". Standing for trending, hip, now people who are and know all things fash.

I am totally grateful to them for all they have taught me.
Their clothing line is the newest most bonty thing at the moment.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

From the Back office

Due to word on the street I have been confronted by my boss and accused of spending most of my time blogging. Right now I am mirroring this through “” in the back office.

I am currently working on Shoprite renovations which has allowed me the priviledge of hanging around the “shop of the people” a little more. The first time I realized that Shoprite was ahead of the game was when I was served by a lady who had one of the best moustaches I’ve ever seen (please see previous post). On my latest visit to Shoprite Goodwood I was really take back by how progressive they are. The car park is filled with car gaurds from the local area, “viva employment for the people”. What I enjoyed even more was how seriously these guys took car guarding. One guy was sporting a pair of camo pants which I thought was very appropriate (see pic). The same guy in the camo pants seemed to be the highest in rank because he was leading the guards in guard stuff. He issued instructions to the team on getting trolleys to cars and he used other general car guarding jargon which went over my head.

I would just like to apologise to all people from these areas north of Cape Town. I have judged everywhere north of Millys market according to the average shop owner at the market.There are some fascinating people out there, and quite friendly. Pic below shows one of the lower ranked guards giving me such a warm thumbs up.