So I bought myself this camera - Yashica A - off bid or buy. (totally new age, blogging about an online purchase) I didn't know what to do with it exactly. Got the guys at ORMS to put in some film - and been playing around a bit. Here are some of the shots from my first 'spool'. Happy. new toy. Happy. REally really happy. So happy in fact, thinking of running away and becoming a wild roaming photog! I'll wear bandana's and bum around South America. awesome.
Friday eve was the meeting of several great events - 2 years of 'book'club (Cliterature - Copyrighted - we thought of it first - not CLEO magazine. Ahem, Angela. If this was the states I think we could possibly sue them for bastardizing our cherished name like that. Have they no shame?) - Christmas - Friday night. Being in a book club has been 'amazing' (hate that word - but feels appropriate for a change) Once a month, no excuses, no penis, lots of wine, food and penis/fart talk. It's been the crutch that has gotten me through several bad stressful weeks at work, saved me thousands in therapy bills and made me feel more like a woman than ever. (cue music)
De Waal Park - or rather puppy park, is a place of epic contradiction. If you happen to walk along there after 5pm, it's filled with pedigree 'town dogs'. Like westies and scottie dogs. (Like the dogs on th whiskey bottle) All frolicking and playing catch with a ball mumsie bought at Harrods. They live a life of luxury, filled with woolies chicken for lunch and afternoon naps. But as soon as night falls, and all the dogs are at home asleep in their designer doggie beds - the park is filled with homeless types. Crazy that most of the dogs in the park live better, than most of the people in the park. So it goes.
This was just the ugliest 'wall of shoes' I have ever seen. Can you just imagine the men who wear these bad boys! And there are so many pairs - therefore there must be far more dodgy 'tiger,tiger' boys on the prowl, than we all realised. Very scary indeed. But at least now you know to run a mile if you see any male approach you in these white pointy serial-killer-attire shoes.
These shoes are almost like a silent siren, 'weeooo weeoooo, I'm a wife-beating-brandy-and-coke-brain-dead-cy-cowboy, weeeoooo, weeeoooo!
It's best just to remain calm, laugh at his unPC joke and back away. (police - 10111)
Meet Sneaky Winky. (The best kind of Winky really.) Small (no pun intended) phenomenon has started in our office, Mr S.W has been up on our wall for a few days, and people have begun to wonder: "What would Sneaky Winky do?" or W.W.S.W.D. Some have even taken to eating lunch and gazing upon him, waiting for an answer to life's many problems. His fierce and knowing gaze has instilled hope amongst even the most skeptical of believers.
Or hour and a half really - if you can sneak past traffic/tell-tale-co-worker types. Lately we've been making more of an effort to get outdoors during lunch - as apposed to going from one building to another building. And it seems to have had a pretty positive effect. These pics are from lunchtimes last week.
We perused the pavilion - which is very Miami-vibes really and apparently one of the most beautiful public pools in the world. (source - Sue - She is a journo though, hence very legitimate)
Scenario - Leave the office in a rage after some stupid marketer encounter or other. Dive into pool and rise out of the depths refreshed, a new, reborn really. Amazing. Almost spiritual - or something or nothing.
ENDORSEMENT: And if you go today - it's ONLY R13! Bargain! (trying to make money off the blog now - shameless!)
Great entertainment in these tough economic times.
The other pic is of deer park cafe. Sprawled on my ever-so-trendy hounds-tooth picnic blanket looking up at the trees, sipping a coke or smoking a menthol - it's hard to feel worried whether or not you're going to get that inflation increase or if some client will butcher your creative-baby idea. Bliss.
This morning as I was in my shower, I glanced over at all my products. ( I have a thing for ready the back labels on things, but that is besides the point.) I then had a bit of an Epiphany - most of product descriptors are also pretty good personality descriptors.
Take me for example - Dry and sensitive (skin) but also a pretty accurate description.
Must suck if you have shampoo for normal hair. Although it probably means you're a pretty hassle/issue free kinda of gal. Anti-dandruff people are probably really un-sexy and wear beige panties on Saturday nights. Thats probably why all fake tan people are, well - usually pretty fake.
It's tough remaining inspired. Even for just the occasional blog or so. For the last week I have been working at a big red corp doing work for an evil green corp - and it's becoming really hard to tell the difference. I have no problem with crossing t's and dotting i's to keep el-cliento happy. But there is a freakin limit to this PC 'make-everybody-happy-bull-shit' quite frankly. This PC thing is out of control! It just crushes all creativity from the get-go.
Client/evil marketer types VO: 'Um - sorry, please take off that silly clown hat and put on this sensible beige peak - oh yes - much better. Don't forget sunblock and your other race best friend!'
Creative/genius types VO : 'Um - no not really. Now all I have is a sensible, granny-on-safari beige peak cap - no style, no humour - who the fuck is gonna want to look at this peak cap! And I hate this guy, and sunblock makes me look sweaty. I mean honestly!' creative whimpers as other creatives frolic around with awards - they look so shiny. sigh.
Wow, I could go on forever. I am a heavy endorser of 'the nap'. It's amazing how fast your body can get used to something. I've had intense nap-cravings this week, after my break. I mean a siesta isn't such a CRAZY idea? I mean in our climate - and all. This may be a tough one to get through Parliament, although those lazy ANC dudes would probably be all for it. "Eish - sorry brew - nap time - deal with it tomorrow." Although municipal road worker dudes have it down to an art. It must take special napping skills to just 'kap a dos' wherever you are, like next to a highway. Skills. Impressed.
Nap paraphernalia is also brilliant. Like the ultimate soft blanket. Preferably made from t-shirt or light knit material. Winter napping is also a whole different from Summer napping. Winter napping on a Sunday afternoon with a hot water bottle. Great. Summer napping, after being at the beach all morning and a shower, and a well positioned fan. Nice. (Tanning could probably be considered a form of napping...?)
I looked this up on wikipedia, there is a thing called 'sleep debt'. Sleep debt has been a subject in health and work psychology courses where it is mentioned that in order for one to "pay back" this debt it is necessary to sleep for half the amount of time owed. For example, if of a daily recommended 8 hours sleep one sleeps only 4 hours, one will owe 4 hours; therefore 2 hours of sleep can make up for the 4.
So I'm owed a lot of sleep I recon. Gonna take this one up with HR department.
recessionista - a fashion forward individual - who always looks fabulous - despite the lack of funding - in these tough economic times. Many of these types can be found on the I'm-so-cool-it-hurts-and-I-cut-myself-because-I-like-the-hurting website : http://www.we-are-awesome.com/ They make me want to throw-up on them, even though I know some of them. (sorry Rosa - you are still the real McCoy of cool though.) It's become perfectly acceptable to pillage your grandmothers wardrobe - even if she's still alive - these tough economic times. And wear your inner-wear as outer-wear - in these tough economic times. Have you noticed how everywhere you go you are reminded of these tough economic times? I can't even buy milk from Pick 'n Pay without it being shouted at me from some shelf wobbler. "We're in this together!" Well, No. We aren't Raymond Ackerman. I'm sure you haven't down graded to single ply and Ricoffee. Besides I have my pride, even if I eat like a trailer park whitie at the end of the month, i don't need the cashier sniffing at my 4 dozen eggs and fish fingers
OK. So I love this show. The American (Series channel on Tuesdays) - not the South African one. In the case of the American version the name of the show is more like a rhetorical question. Whereas with the SA show it really is a legitimate query.
I mean the presenter on the SA version was a YO TV kiddie show host, that hit puberty and was forced to put on a bra and leave. She has this hectic gangsta attitude, a flippin niknak chip on her shoulder, placed there by some freakin nik-nak-finger-stained kid from her last gig. The only bad thing about the American version is the one judge - Mary - who shouts like a drunken fish wife whenever someone gets it right. Which is a lot - unfortunately.
There is nothing worth watching on TV at the moment. There is Gossip Girl on Go, but no-one is patient enough to watch one episode a week, most people (Jake Bester) downloaded it, sat for 6 & half hours and watched it in one tearful go.
U can dance if we want to U can leave your friends behind Cause your friends don't dance And if they don't dance Well they're no friends of mine
It's really puzzling to me how some members of the public can spend their days, their entire day, sitting at a vida. (especially the Kloof street one) There must be some sort of underground thing going on. Possible members of this 'secret society' are:
The giant-beaded-necklaces man. He looks a bit like a fat John Malkovich, he is always wearing a 'fabulous' new necklace, (that looks like something a 5 year old made) and when accompanied by someone, always seems to be in the middle of a 'fabulous' 'convo'. How fabulous can life possibly be? If all you do is sit at vida all day? What interesting shenanigans can possibly occur every 15 min?
Dragon-power-fanny-pack-slayer. Ok, so he runs a gym and is a fighting champion. But when does he find the time? He's always at vida?? Also, how does he freakin sleep? (first asian vampire?) I wouldn't want to find out what is in his fanny-pack (apparently a gun or something - ooooh) after a couple double espresso's. Should someone consuming so much coffee be allowed to have a weapon?
Not-funny-comedian man: So he has a nice car and a couple cool tats. But he has way too much time on his hands and caffeine in his urine.
OK. So maybe I'm jealous? I'd like to be able to just sip vida, have a fannypack, get a couple tats, and have fabulous conversations all day.
Puzzling that all these men are super hot. In their own way. It's a diverse and complex world out there.
I will spend the public holiday conceptualizing for my blog. (I've actually had to work the past few days, but have missed my blog dearly. I know - it's ridiculous. The concept of working instead of blogging I mean)
I shall end with an Eddie Izzard quote: Cake or death?
In fact, I'm kind of proud to lay claim to this cherished past time.
So Yes : I'm a puker.
I'm also in advertising, and these 2 things go hand in hand. There's way too much free booze on week nights for me to get away with it any other way. Several jaggies and a couple finger snacks later, I was feeling a tad under the weather last night. Was I afraid for my presentation the next day? Did I fear the inevitable hanging-like-dog scenario? No! Why? The trusted tactical puke was there for me. And today, I feel fine! (Also an THE Engen spinach and feta pie is a winner.)
(No I'm not drunk. Drunk blogging is a bit like drunk-dialing - except with more witnesses. Not a good idea.)
A junior art director just got a design accepted onto threadless.com (globally-considered-cool, tshirt design website, flippin big deal) He needs people to go on and vote for his tshirt. So that they will print it and he can win big bucks. Have a heart, juniors earn f*&k all. And if you are reading this - you ain't that busy anyway.
A sad and sudden event happened yesterday afternoon. Mushroom the Manatee left the building.
Explanation: One morning, not long ago. In a tall red building, not far from here, there was a boy called Jon. But he wasn't happy. He didn't want to be a man anymore, he wanted to be a Manatee. He wanted to play, swim, laugh, tickle, cuddle other manatees. We said, "...well how about we just call you mushroom for awhile instead?" "No" he said "I must be a manatee to feel free and happy" (Much like a transvestite or something, would say) "Oh ok" we all said. And so it came to be that we worked, lived and played with Mushroom the Manatee for around a year and a half. It was beautiful. Just like something on Animal planet. (story copyrighted - soon to be a major motion picture.)
Special times. Special People.
Song for Manatee : Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah! O-oo, yeah! All right! Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Over the weekend there was a lot of 'nemesis' discussion.
Any self respecting/relevant human should have one. Or 2 - plural, nemeses. Or nemesi, also plural. There were strong feelings about whether or not a nemesis had to be of the same sex / in the same field / within comparative distance etc. Of course they do. I mean you can't have a nemesis who is a petrol attendant if you are pig farmer. I mean, wheres the competition? Could also just get nasty. Thinking explosions, and scene from Zoolander.
A good nemesis is probably really good for your health, unless you happen to be an assassin, with an assassin nemesis for a nemesis. Or if you were a terrorist, with a terrorist nemesis. (Wondering if my blog will be picked up by the CIA, or MI5 because I mentioned terrorists. Terrorists.) (Such a rebel)(MI5 agents - totally sexy. Terrorist.)
Go forth, and find thee a nemesis. Dual. Or become the Queen of Eastgate Mall, and get your boyfriend to kill him/her for you. Strangely enough, nemesis, the word, is from the Greek word, retribution. Greek. mmmm.
Wikipedia Def = Nemesis is now often used as a term to describe one's worst enemy, normally someone or something that is the exact opposite of oneself but is also somehow similar.
It's like a parallel universe in there. There are numerous things to say on this topic, so this might be the first of many 'observations'
Scenario - I'm putting on mascara at the basin, really pleased with myself that I manage to get to gym this morning, when this old (38+) chick strides up to the hand dryer, flips her hair over like a flash-dance move, opens her legs, bends forward like a freakin giraffe at a watering hole and starts to blow dry her hair.(with a hand dryer) Worse, she starts humming some shit song or other. Really appalling. Women - I don't want to meet your maker at 7:30am. (next time I'll take a pic. Hopefully no children read my blog.)
G-string chicks - Yes, you have no cellulite. (only a matter of time) And your ass looks like a Mcdonalds burger, but it's just unnecessary to parade around, do your make-up, call your mother, ask for my deo, do a cheer, in your g-string.(that's it). It's awkward, and just plain show-offy.
Also sucks bumping into people, you kinda sorta know. Scenario - Hi 'boobs' how 'boobs' are 'boobs' you 'boobs' doing 'boobs' ?
I look forward to soapie time. 6pm or 8am. Brilliant. (Research has shown that there is less brain activity whilst watching soapies than when you are a sleep.) Love it how everybody knows who Ridge, Brooke and Thorne are, but would never admit to watching the Bold and the Beautiful. (haha - had to bold that - art director joke)
Photogenic people - love them and hate them. Love them at weddings, in thunda.com pics (as long as you look cool too) on drivers licenses. Hate them at weddings, in thunda.com pics (if you look shit) on drivers licenses. It is impossible to take a bad pic of Wayne (above). I've tried.
Cupcakes are always lovable. (Lazari's ones are the best. Thats white choc icing, i kid you not.)
There's nothing worse that a faker. I mean, hot dogs, burgers, cheese, croissants, they aren't trying to bullshit you. They're like - "Eat me and you'll be fat, but it'll be gooooood" They're straight up - down the line - Fair enough.
Then you get devil food. Food that you think is not going to contribute to your 'situation', but does. Cleverly/meanly disguised as a "fruit" or "seed".
Scenario: You go out for lunch. You think "I'm gonna be healthy today, not gonna go crazy. Think I'll have a wheat-free, egg-free, sugar-free, taste-free, date bar from Crush with my coffee. What harm could it do??" or "hmmmm, I'm still a little munchy, I'll take some yummy healthy sunflower seeds (from Crush) to work to snack on."
Meanwhile, back at the Fat Ranch: Sunflower seeds - hahaha! Might as well have a tub of margarine! Dates - hahahaha! Might as well have a chocolate! Crush - more like crush my freakin self-esteem, like Crush all hopes of thinness!
Nutritional Info to back up ranting: 100g of dates = 1180kj / 280cal 100g sunflower seeds = 2390kj / 570cal
Drives me flippin crazy. Why does everything have to be so difficult? Why can't everyone just chill out and stop spasing over the small stuff. People/clients/advertising admin/traffic department people, are really missing the big picture. Breathe. Zanzibar.