Friday, July 31, 2009

Farewell Jake Bester

The day has come. To say good-bye to Captain Ogilvy. Jake Bester. The red stripe looks a little faded today, the bee's buzz is a little fainter. He is going forth into a new world of 'new' media. This is his blog farewell post. (Cards are totally 90's) (I know how much he loved reading my blog everyday - oh how we laughed and laughed.)

Fare. Well. Jake. Bester.

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I will miss getting lost in your eyes
The endless, dreamy blue ocean of your eyes.
I would swim in that ocean
I would swim forever.
I would drown.
If you'd let me.

From Cuan

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Wishful thinking maybe, but if we buy you a bandana will you stay?


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Bake the Cake -

I've worked out that I've known you half my life. In fact I don't think you age. When you're like 80 you'll be going on 35.

Anyway, good luck and enjoy your new adventure. Will see you on the circuit.



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Jake, it's been real! Gonna miss you bud. The Ogilvy Football Team won't quite be the same, but at least we still have Dane. I will keep the flag of "reckless inappropriate motor vehicle advertising" flying high. Best for the new adventure. Don't forget the little guys.
Later, Andrew

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- Craig

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Hey Jake...we haven't spoken much, but you've always been a cool guy. And you've done some amazing work for the agency. I wish you well at your new job. And...always have fun times.

Morne Brandt
Junior Copywriter

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Farewell Good Sir, Remember Jake... you need to believe.
Best wishes.


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Jake. i never really knew you but i thought you had nice hair. bye.

Dean Jackson

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Dearest Jake Bester,

Thanks for all those bordeline sexual times. I loved the way the awkwardness flew so easily off your chest and crotch region. I will miss all the hard times, so here's a little song from Kiss (did I say kiss)- what a coincidence.

Jakey Wakey,

"Live to win, 'till you die, 'till the light dies in your eyes
Live to win, take it all, just keep fighting 'till you fall

Live to win
Live to win

Yeah, live, yeah, win" - Paul Stanley from Kiss.

Your little gingerkid

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Thando: "Jake is leaving????"
(sad face) Thinking out loud: There goes the studio's hotty!

You'll make the girls at your new office very happy!


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I said I wish I knew how to quit you. Then you quit. Was it me? I can't help but think it was me.

I'm sorry, Jake. But I'm just so... so... so cold on the inside now.

I guess we'll always have Justin. And you'll always be my radtimesawesome.

Rage against the dying of the light.




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Your surname starts with Best - I've heard that's where the English term originates from.

All the Best

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thanks for the best nickname in the world, we'll miss you kid -

dark bum

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Jake, you're not bad looking for a lesbian.

I'd shag you any day.

Lots of love,

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Upside down and inside out
Simply the Bester’s about to show Habari what it's all about
Now it's time for Jake to get on the mic
And make this mother party hype
he's taking it back to the old school
'Cause he’s an old fool who's so cool
If you want to get down
He’s gonna show you the way whoomp there it is
Let me hear you say
Whoomp there it is
Whoomp there it is
Whoomp there it is

Whoomp chak a laka chack a laka chak a laka chak a (repeat 4 times)

Love Dane

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all the bester and more for the new job.
hugs and kisses Stemmett

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Just as I finally get to "look after you" leave!

be good out there!


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So it has finally come to this...
But it is not really goodbye, because there is a guy at gym who looks just like you. Only he has lank muscles.

His name is BeefJake and he has expressed a keen interest in the art of copywriting.

Good luck on the interweb.

Your First Art Director.

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The content of this fairwell message has been removed for being too cheap.


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Monday, July 20, 2009

Why can't we be friends?

Seems like all my friends are getting little animals lately. (Aren't pets really pre-kid substitutes? mmm?)Making me really jealous though, they are such cute munchkins! Look at Miss Dakota Kitty and Madam Emily Pooch!! So sweet.

Weekend Report Card

Read/ing : The Belle de Jour, a book based on a blog of a London Call girl. ( Her blog is only slightly more interesting than mine. (intense blog envy) Must say it's a rather 'educational' and intimidating book. Only got half way, not something I could read in public.

Listening : Obsessed with 'Super Massive Black Hole - Muse' at the moment. It's like sexy, evil syrup in song format, or a sexy evil crumpet covered in sexy evil syrup (hungry) - on repeat.

Drank : Too much red wine (dam) at Mary's Flat warming. (Did not go according to plan)

Ate : Divine breakfast (after BAD, excessive red wine evening) at Gainsburg. Arnold's is so 2006, and a grease pit with a siff fatso manager who hits on defenseless hungover people. yuck. Gainsburg - 2009 - Prince Harry ate there once. Nuff said.

Exercise : Yoga on Sunday. (Pain in new places today) and long walk along the Seapoint Promenade. Inspired by Encounters movie (Afraid to go into too much detail here, after extreme abuse from the Pet and Tard Copywriter, over Fokof blog post - jeez.)

Watched : Seapoint days - was so beautifully filmed, the director was there (Francois Verster), he gave a talk before the movie and everyone clapped afterwards. Went with my mom and dad, was lovely.

Marks and Comments : B

Jennifer shows potential, if only she could stay more focused on her long term goals of fitness and happiness, and not be swayed by red wine. She is taking steps in the right direction. Keep it up Jennifer.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


There, said it.

Very inspired after watching Fokofpolisiekar at Encounters last night. I thought that I would lay the cards on the table. (You'd better sit down for this.)

Yes, I grew up in Welgemoed. It is on the fringes of Bellville.
I went to primary school in Boston, Bellville.
Almost all my neighbours were Afrikaans and ran around without shoes on - a lot.
I have Afrikaans maatjies who went to D.F Malan High School. (Still called that - Madness)
I have been to those Nazi like atletiek days at the Bellville stadium. (scary)
I am from the other side of the boerewors curtain. And finally kind of proud of it.
(People are far more interesting out there. So what if my daddy's daddy didn't go to Bishops. Most southern suburbs people couldn't find the Blue Peter with a GPS, a compass and the help of Kingsley Holgate. Fokof.)

I'm not saying I am 'like the fokof' boys (cause I ain't) but when I say 'I get it', I get it.

It was fan-bloody-tastic to see such unapologetic behavior and such a (was about 5 years ago, but still) fresh take on music in South Africa. Not more freakin PC bullshit. Since so many of their lyrics are in higher grade Afrikaans and are usually screamed at you violently, it was awesome to appreciate ALL the lyrics (not just the 'hemel in die platteland' part) last night on the sub-titles. It was awesomely put together, flippin kiff graphics by the boys at Amicollective. I hope that that documentary is shown all over the world, it really shows what great things young south african musicians, producers and directors can do. That said, I think it could have been about 10min shorter, was a lot of repetition. I would also have been interested to know how black South Africans have responded to their music - for or against? I am so relieved and inspired to see that FINALLY some cool freakin shit is coming from the old regime. On Friday night at the VICE launch party a heavy metal band, made up entirely of black guys called Soweto played. They were awesome. The lead singer looked full on epic head banging with dreads. Hooray! For crossing cultures and embracing your own and where you grew up! Hooray!

It's about foking time!

Monday, July 13, 2009

a comment

Weirdly this morning I was just thinking how I rarely get any comments on my posts. And was a little bummed out, when I happened to spot one glistening comment of hope below my steri ambassador post. Only to have my hopes dashed by some 'anonymous' wanker. Look buddy, if you don't like 'fluffy bunnies' then go get stuffed. Also, shrinks say people who don't like animals are probably psychopaths (especially bunnies). So I don't want you, lame anonymous psychopaths reading my blog anyway. So just leave, pack that crazy little sarcastic bag and get on a doomed plane to nowhere and never come back. Asshole.

That said.

I'd love it if there were occasionally more comments on posts. It's so much fun.

The Great Tattoo Debate

"Don't all arty people have tattoos?" asked Miss. Cyn's boyfriend.

Guess it is a relevant left brain question. It is something I have pondered before too. How can you call yourself a real arty farty trendoid and not get something meaningful inked on your bottom? mmm? Madam Tam has a bird-like design on the back of her neck, she says that she doesn't actually see it everyday. She got it to remind her of a friend that passed and she doesn't see it as a tattoo, but as a reminder. This seems like a more relevant reason to get a tat than say the guy who is always on Clifton 2nd, and has 2 pistols on his tum, aimed at his 'member'. Although, maybe that is also very relevant? (Better be, that is an awful lot of hype to live up to Mr. Pistols.) Miss Cyn also saw a pretty blonde girl at the Claremont gym, with a Sharks (rugby team) logo in her tramp stamp region. Shockingly crap - she is gonna regret that one, once her poncy Villager's rugby playing boyfriend dumps her tramp stamp ass.

That said, I can't bring myself to trust anyone enough to execute my chosen design 'perfectly'. As a serious control freak art director, if one little line was out - it would plague me forever. It would be like looking at kak type settings for the rest of my days. (Sweating in a terror at the thought of this!) If however one day I do encounter some Leonardo Di Vinci type tattoo artist, I'd really like an antique rose upon my arty derrier, something that I will still like when I am a granny and I sip tea out of a little china cup - with just such a rose on it. That would be rad.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Arty Docy Film Crit time! woop woop!

Last night, The Captain (my man) and I went to the Encounters Film festival at the Waterfront to watch 'Afghan Popstar'. It is a BBC documentary that follows 4 contestants, from different ethnic groups, in a pop idol type show, in Afghanistan. Dancing and singing has been illegal in Afghanistan, until recently. 2 of the contestants were men, from different races. (Didn't realize that Afghanistan was once divided into 5 segments, according to ethnicity. Only knew a little bit about it from reading The Kite Runner.) 2 were women. One was very 'rebellious' and received death threats after dancing on stage. Being a MASSIVE fan of the American pop idol (it is the biggest show on earth, 90 million people voted in the last final. Adam was robbed. Anyway.) it was a shocker to see that the Afghan version was no more fancy than the average High school play. Being able to vote by sms was also the first time many of the young people had ever experienced 'democracy'. A man sold his car to help fund one of the contestants' poster campaign. At the finale, there were men with guns outside, women didn't wear scarves and the 2 finalists hugged each other. It was an eye opener. I would love to visit Afghanistan one day, it is an awesomely interesting and beautiful place. (Be awhile before a blondie can venture through those streets I reckon.)

It was crazy then to come home from watching a woman risk her life to dance and sing, to switch on the T.V and see MJ's funeral. Really cool how music can liberate just about anyone.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Steri Stumpie/Life Competition

Yesterday after seeing the cool marching band video at King James, Cuan and I decided to nominate each other to be Steri Stumpie ambassadors. We held a photo shoot, and everything.

Reasons why Cuan should be the ambassador:

1 : He is cynical and lonely. His life is lived in permanent shades of gray.
2: He looks good in pink and gay men like him. (Strawberry flavor is his favorite.)
3: A marching band would make him cut himself less and make him very happy, he may even dance around a bit.
4: He needs the steri stumpie rainbow of colour in his life to keep on swimming. (Like that fish in Finding Nemo. Although I prefer Dolphins, obviously.)

Reasons why I should be an ambassador:
(Cuan is being allowed to write this - it is a fluffy bunny first!!!)

1. She has a very low opinion of herself. Winning a competition like this might help.
2. She likes Steri Stumpie. More than she likes herself.
3: She once bought a Chocolate Steri Stumpie that "tasted like banana." Winning this competition will help her get over the trauma.
4. I'll get the opportunity to steal some of the Steri Stumpies she wins. This will benefit me.

We should win.


Monday, July 6, 2009


Awhile ago when I was supposed to be brain storming/earning a living, I drew these dudes instead. Seems as thought they should be friends. And they should do cool stuff together. Mr Montgomery is extremely wise and witty and drinks too much. Mr Smith is sneaky and trys to hard, but has rad teeth. Mr Tim is goofy and naive and laughs at everything. These guys rock.

Their Facebook status's should give you insight into their daily

Mr Smith is : watching Hitler finding out about MJ's death on Youtube.
Mr Montgomery is : recovering from a weekend of *Kraaifontein cocktails.
Mr Tim is : thinks he might have found the one.

**Kraaifontein - N1 somewhere, too far away for anyone that lives in 'town' to worry about.
*Kraaifontein cocktail = dbl Klipdrift brandy and coke on the rocks.

strangely profound

This is a drawing done for Cuan by the 8 year-old daughter of our one traffic lady.

Girl says : I have a boyfriend.
Boy says : I have nikes. (And is wearing what looks like a gold chain.)

What does this mean about Cuan/and society at large? Maybe she would prefer Cuan to wear nikes and gold chains and be her boyfriend? Maybe the fact that an 8 year-old gives a dam about nike and gold chains and draws strange Portuguese men is rather depressing/ and or funny.

Give up.

Biscuit Fury (or Furry)

SO I went to Biscuit Mill this weekend. Put in a sufficient tredoid effort to look 'hip and cool' so that I could blend in with all the hanging bicycles and dress-lights and seriously hip and cool locals, etc. Only to leave in a blind ranting fury, over a rather awesome furry (second hand) jersey. There is this rather rude, fake-British accent lady, in the design tent that has sourced cool 'label' second hand stuff. Like scarves from Liberty's and real wool jerseys from Germany etc. She wanted R150 for said jersey. But considering we were at a MARKET, I thought I'd try barter a bit and offer her R100. Only to be met with the smirky look and a shriek of 'how horrific, pay me what it says on the hand written label!' First up, I bought a dress the other day at a charity shop for R8 which people ask me if it's from Country Road, second up, isn't this place supposed to be a market??? I can buy an awesome Marion and Lindie dress for R800 - you silly design-tent cretins! I sew too and can locate charity shops. So - YOU AREN"T THAT SPECIAL - and - STOP TRYING TO RIP ME OFF!

Totally ruined it for me, after that everything seemed over priced and badly made. Bummed out , I decided to try Milnerton Market on Sunday. Which along with coughing old people, obese woman with Chihuahua's climbing all over her and a scattering of emo/trendoids, was far more 'cool'. Bargains and bartering galore and unashamedly.

Sure Milnerton isn't as 'pretty'. (it's actually best not to look too long at the people there) But at least it is a genuine market. And no-one spazzed all over me in a fake-accent.


Biscuit Mill : 4/10 (Points for prettiness and coolness)
Milnerton Market : 8/10 (No freak out, lots of freaks, entertainment value.)

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Excuse me Captain, where are we going?

So, I had breakfast with my intensely cynical mate the other morn. (Which is a compliment in my book, 'cynical' just means you aren't a naive moron normally.) We got into a medium-weight discussion about 'information overloading'. Which is something that is troubling me presently, especially just before I go to sleep, too many options on what to dream about. Started with this whole MJ thing. First off, the lame people in twitterland were almost ECSTATIC, no more meaningless tweets about the weather or what you had for lunch, cause today, you can talk to just about anyone on the planet about MJ and be part of the 'global mourning'. (if that is what it is anyway) Miss Syn. pointed out that people are becoming obsessed with how 'fun' global mourning is. Are people on the 'farms' with way less of this 'crucial' daily info, happier? Probably.

I think it's nice to be 'in the know', (Although I still get insanely blasted for sending around a day old Youtube clip at work. Nerds.) The 'key' is to not take it all (or your online self) too seriously. No need to commit suicide over MJ or anything (Although apparently people have) - sure he was a music and creative genius, but = you did'nt even know the guy. Why kill yourself over a guy who never even sent you a Christmas card. Ridiculous and not at all original. (Kurt Cobain)

So, point being - little side-tracked there - where is all this going? All this information, about just about nothing and everything. All the self-obsessed blogging and tweeting. Where is the final destination? Has anyone thought about it? I hadn't, guess I'll just keep contributing to the information rubbish dump, and wait for Google to tell me where to go next. (Which is probably that new 'Wave' thing, but anywho.) lalalala. Think I'm gonna buy a blouse on ebay today.