I think this little mention comes at a good time - shortly after my review on John Shannan's book, "Modern Man is a Wimp" where Shannan makes an alarmed reference to "metrosexuals" and the fact that men find it necessary these days to use moisturisers and other products to beautify themselves. Personally I don't have an option as I suffer from the same condition as my mother, in that my skin and body turns out to be QUITE delicate and requires only the finest and costliest products to be applied at all times. It is well documented in my article I wrote about Bededas bubble bath.
Seth is pampered from time to time
That aside, more and more of today's men are taking time out to pamper themselves and have joined the previously female-only strive for eternal youth - ever aware of the prime condition of the men seen in adverts gracing the GQ's and Vanity Fair's of the world. My mother was sending me to secret facials behind my dad's back since I was 16. I remind you that I was, and still am an only child.
I got a call from Glasshouse the other day, inviting me for a pampering. They received a swift "yes" from my side and welcomed me at their premises in "The Foundry" (near Beluga there) a few days later.
Glasshouse - "Rejuvenation for men" was started by sisters Carol and Beryl Erikson, who's motives for starting this company are slightly dubious, given that they are both single. Their full-service grooming parlour STRICTLY for men offers everything from facials, peels, manicures, pedicures, massages and body wraps to teeth whitening, waxing, tinting (pushing it a bit) and will even serve you a cold beer (in a glass) for your troubles! You can even watch sport on plasma TV's whilst they tend to your gorgeous body.
They treated me to a Hot Stone massage and educated me in the ways of grooming by informing me that these massages don't come with a happy ending.
Fair enough.
I just thought.....you know....for the price you're charging.........never mind.
So that's it people. Treat yourself. Live longer. Look younger. Score more chicks. Find love. Get Married. Keep pampering yourself. Look younger. Get a divorce. Score more chicks. etc. etc.
Their website has a full breakdown of all their services, prices etc. Check it out here.
Or go and visit them at:
110a The Foundry
74 Prestwich Street
Green Point
Phone: 021 419 9599 www.glasshousemen.com
After only living in Cape Town for 8 months! [permalink]
Pretty moving stuff here. In the latest TBG sighting it seems the great man was present at the last Dirty Skirts gig at Bang Bang. Ever-alert Carl D maximised the moment that was presented before him. The TBG (Tall Blonde Guy) looks PARTICULARLY relaxed in this pic. God! Just LOOK at him!
Amazing! And to think that Carl D got his first TBG sighting after moving to Cape Town only eight months ago! How unfair!
Some people have lived here their whole lives and never laid eyes on the walking miracle. Let's see what Carl D had to say:
Hey Seth!
I gotta say, I have been keeping my eyes peeled for my first TBG sighting, since moving to Cape Town 8 months ago!
I was quite taken back, by how friendly he was! And how readily he was willing to take a photo, so I could prove to all my friends back home (and on facebook;-) (we call it "Facefuck", Carl) that I really got to meet him!
I first noticed him bopping his freakishly long body up and down, along to the Dirty Skirts tunes! I was afraid to approach him at first, but after enough Jagermeister shots, I confronted him! (knowing it was my one chance to get a pic...).
We chatted about some stuff, I honestly wish I could remember... I gotta say the TBG rocks! I think he should start a band or something... Maybe even star in movies..
Anyway, thanks for the memories, TBG. You're the best!
I simply MUST draw your attention to this. You'll remember when I first told you about Katee Holmes. You know, the girl who is filming the moment she loses her virginity and is then having it sold as a porn movie.
Yes, that's the one!
Well, it gets better!
Very naughty
There is now A COUNTDOWN CLOCK on her official website! I don't think things have ever been so out of control in this blessed world of ours. The clock is counting down to the second that she allows someone to enter her for the first time. How crazy is that? Not too crazy, I suppose. I mean, if the guy loves her then that's fine. But I doubt he will. He'll just be a regular porn star who is going to give her the hiding of her life. She's probably been very naughty as well. I think filming this moment automatically makes her a very naughty girl so he can kill two birds with one main-chap and give her a hiding as well.
I've never gone mental over Carmen Electra but I am quite aware that there is a large host of males out there who do pull out her file from time to time. After some research I am pleased to enlighten you with the fact that her real name is Tara Patrick. Those of you have have been naughty enough to have delved into a bit of porn MIGHT be aware that one of God's most famous porn stars has virtually the same name - Tera Patrick. Pretty similar, yes? It was, funnily enough, Prince that got her to change her name to Carmen Electra and also guided her through her first and last RAP album.
I know, 2oceansvibe is basically the fountain of knowledge.
Carmen stopped by the other day and fell asleep on the sofa at the Safe House. I took this pic for you.
You may have read this article the other day about a blog run by an ex-rent boy. He names and shames prominent South Africans who he claims paid him to play with his main-chap.
An example of what might be expected
during these encounters
It's been mentioned in a number of papers over the past few days and for some bizarre reason they simply refuse to give the address to the blog.
That's probably going to be it for today, kids. I'm just contemplating everything after finding out the only place to entertain The Hooker upon his return to Cape Town on a Wednesday. I'll tell you where to go. Downstairs at FTV bar. I never go there, but I tell you what, if you need to find a place on a Wednesday, that is it. Downtairs. Not upstairs. I had about 5 chicks all over my stick the whole night.
Thanks to Dan Nicholl, our buddy over at iafrica's Sports Department, we are able to gain some insight into the incredible day-to-day experiences afforded to SA's newest quota player, Lukho Watshembi.
Lukho Watshembi
Saturday 12 May: I’m in the squad! Can’t quite believe it – guess Jake has finally changed his mind about me. And he created an extra spot in the squad for me, to make sure I’d be there, which was rather touching. Went out to celebrate with Ross Skeate, who said he’d grow his biggest sideburns ever in tribute. He’s one of my best mates, but he’s decidedly strange when it comes to facial hair. Anyway, Springboks here I come… Monday 14 May: Mixed morning. The papers all reckon I’m only in the squad because Oregan Hoskins overruled Jake, which was a little hurtful. Phoned Oregan to ask him; he said he had no influence whatsoever on selection, but that it wouldn’t hurt if I brushed up on my French. Cryptic guy. Also muttered something about hoping John Robbie got savaged by a rabid hyena, but wasn’t really listening. Then got a text message from Ebrahim Rasool, the premier of the Western Cape, inviting me for breakfast tomorrow! Pretty cool! Ironed my Western Province blazer, and watched some television; nothing much on MTV, and eventually fell asleep with Channel O playing. Actually a pretty good channel.
Tuesday 15 May: I’m black! No, really! Mr. Rasool wanted to see me to tell me that actually, I’m black! Quite a shock, to be honest, and wasn’t sure how to react. Called my dad to tell him, but he said he couldn’t speak on the phone, as the Third Force had tapped his line, and would be listening in to the conversation. Guess I’ll have to deal with this on my own.
Our Founders House stooge in Standard nine (grade 11, I suppose) was a man by the name of John Shannan. Besides being a few years older than us, he could buy booze and had genuine stories about naked women - so it didn't take long for us to believe that John was "cool". He pretty much won us over from day one - smuggling in beers (Hunters), letting us watch movies and even turned a blind eye when we bunked out at night to go to Naughty's in Rondebosch. Not only that, John also had a car and talked about actually boning chicks (ahem...Fabrics Guy). Look, he played hockey, but The Chief had brainwashed us into believing hockey was cool years before, so we didn't know any better.
He was an eager beaver and at four or five years our senior, happened to be the most fucked oke at The Advertising Guy's 18th. Naturally, it all ended in tears when he decided to play garden cricket using wine glasses as balls. True story. He has the scars to prove it.
I got an email from John (now living in London) about four months ago, telling me about a BOOK he had written, called "Modern Man is a Wimp." Describing the book, he explained that it , "takes a look at all the things going on in the world today that have changed since we were kids." The chapter outline is: Political Correctness, Metrosexuality, Homosexuality, Advertising and the Media, Modern Day Fads, Raising Children, Drugs and Celebrity Culture".
Right up my street!
I told him to rush me a copy, which finally arrived the other day. I took note of the sub-title, "How male moisturisers, political correctness and Britney Spears have turned the modern man into a brow-beaten apology."
Hmmm, I see...
It looked very interesting so I found a quiet moment, put on some Celine Dion, and got stuck into it.
"Right....what do we have here?"
And what a satisfying read it was! Whilst John would be horrified at the cost of my particular brand of moisturiser (let alone the mere fact that I use one), I certainly do support him in his various arguments.
It's not often that authors have the balls to openly discuss and argue topics that we raise amongst our peers. It's about time someone attacks the all too PC ridden topics others would be too scared to write about. He confidently, humourously, and yet fairly, questions topics including why, exactly, angry minority groups have more power than the masses - often resulting in changes in legislation. Brave.
The general theme of the book has to do with how the modern man is not able....sorry...NO LONGER ALLOWED to stand up for himself. A good example of this is how it is perfectly fine for ads on TV to openly ridicule men, whilst John argues that mockery of any other group is strictly taboo. South Africa has a car insurance group that insures only women - imagine if they had one strictly for guys? Precisely.
I wore blinkers during the chapters about metrosexuals, Paris Hilton and Britney Spears, but he made a comeback in his support for weed and spanking of children (my arse was introduced to, and broke many a wooden spoon from an early age).
When tackling political (in)correctness and how we are now restricted from sensible discussion, he mentions something that has happened to me on a number of occasions. I have met people in the past who, when trying to point out a particular person in a large group, have said things like:
"The guy in the red shirt."
And I'd go, "the guy at the door?"
And he'd go, "no, the guy with the sunglasses on."
"That guy?"
"No, the guy next to him"
"Oh", I'd declare, annoyed. "The black guy!"
"Jesus, bru, you can't say that!"
That is how pathetic it has all become. Why would you be scared of describing someone by identifying his most telling feature? If someone had a penis instead of a nose, you wouldn't fuck around describing his shirt colour.
And so it goes on.
This is, quite simply, the book you've been wanting to read. The book that finally discusses the annoying things - the things we think can't be discussed. Apparently they can. You'll spend most of the book shouting in ecstasy, "YES! EXACTLY!"
Do yourself a favour and get this book ASAP. At 150 pages it is short enough for you to tackle, and long enough for you to be able to join those what-book-did-you-read-last conversations.
Her first time will be on film. Fair enough. [permalink]
Now this is certainly not something we see every day. This young lady has changed her name to Katee Holmes and she intends to make a porn film and lose her virginity at the same time. To reiterate, she wants to film herself losing her virginity and have it marketed as a porno. And her name is Katee Holmes. You with me?
Katee Holmes
The intrepid 18-year-old and her porn agent, Shy Love (I'm not making this up), claim that Tom Cruise's wife, Katie Holmes, should not be upset.
"Katee is using the name as a tribute to Katie, who has always portrayed an innocence in everything she's done, beginning with 'Dawson's Creek.' "
That looks you in the mouth, and feeds you. [permalink]
Werecently showed you the destruction of our beloved Metropolitan Golf club and Green Point Stadium which is making way for the creation of an Olympic sized Opera House. We lamented about how sad it was to not be able to catch a quick nine on the Atlantic after work any more.
And that was that. We had a little moan and then we left it.
But then I started to remember that it wasn't just the golf course and the stadium and the neighbours and the gay brothel that were being effected by this annihilation....
Did anyone actually stop and think about the HORSES?
"Silver" does not bite the hand that feeds him
Has anyone ever actually noticed that the South African Police horses LIVE on Fritz Sonnenberg Road? Right in between the old stadium and the golf course. People are running amok moaning and groaning about property prices and disruption to the peace and God knows what else, but no-one has even spared a though for one of God's most beautiful and non-racist creatures, The Horse.
We had already saved the lives of about five children the other morning, so The P.A. and I decided on a fresh new task for the afternoon and made a trip to Pick n Pay to buy some carrots, followed by a FEAST with the horses.
MNANDI?
Piglet feeds "Black Beauty"
"Silver" enjoys the timeless carrot/penis joke
Do to your neighbour as you would want done to you.
This is what Bruce Willis has been tapping lately. Playboy Playmate, Tamara Witmer. At 29 years his junior (23 and 52), I think Bruce deserves a high five.
So Bruce, I hope you don't mind, but we've given your little angel the Tuesday Tabs # 31 title.
It was just the other day that we were killing it in Plett, watching the norms play bingo at the pool. Well things have changed!
Kyk hoe lyk hy nou!
Taken yesterday:
Plett main street
cntd.
This looks like the road leading up from
that revolting dolphin statue.
The one way that The Cobbler came down.
UPDATE: People seem to be getting a little hysterical about us referring to the above as snow, when it is actually the result of a freak hail storm. We are QUITE aware that it is not REALLY snow. But it's pretty fucking close, isn't it? It's headline news if there is snow on the Ceres mountains, so I'm pretty sure if it WAS snowing in Plett it would have been on CNN. And anyway, I wanted to do what I did with Cornuti's in the headline. Hail at Cornuti's just doesn't make sense, does it?
For those of you who are tired of pretending to see nipple slips when we know the only thing sticking out is a section of the areola, PRETEND NO MORE! Misha Barton has come to the party!
You've just never seen a nipple slip like this before - her entire breast seems to be offloading into the camera. Phenomenal stuff!
Sunday Times decides that Oregan Hoskins is a "Fuck-nut" [permalink]
It is now quite clear what the colourful word used in the Sunday Times weekly "Mampara" award means: Fuck-Nut.
Just a couple weeks ago we were ranting on about what a fuck-nut Kwazulu/Natal MEC for transport, Bheki Cele is. Later that week he was awarded the Sunday Times Mampara Award.
Mampara - what does it mean?
Read on...
Then this week we had a little rant about what a fuck-nut SA Rugby boss, Oregan Hoskins is and, lo and behold, he has won this week's Mampara Award!
Hoskins - Fuck-nut?
One can only deduce that the Sunday Times Award can be translated into the Sunday Times Fuck-nut award.
Dating service? Or quick pomp organiser? [permalink]
I've had an ad on the right hand side of the page for a couple of weeks now for pleaseme.co.za. Whilst it certainly is a legitimate dating service, I have been told by people in the know that kids have been going pretty far on those first dates.
It seems fairly simple to work and asks you to send an sms and, depending on your criteria, you will be sent matches in your area! Makes sense. I mean, have you ever stopped to think how many other people are at home, right now, bored, touching themselves...
Finding love, and/or a bit of action?
If any of you out there have any experience with this easy action option, do let us know!
I'm hurting a bit after watching the Dirty Skirts playing at Bang Bang last night. They are like SO hot right now.
That said, I struggled a bit with the heading of this little story. So, apologies for that crap heading. I just had to let you see this. Taken this morning on Lansdowne Road in Claremont.
It just doesn't get better than this.
Tidy.
Proof that meths is bad for you
thanks andrew
Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com [permalink]
As Oregan Hoskins gets very quietly fucked up the arse by John Robbie [permalink]
I couldn't get more excited as I listened to the audio clip I found via www.feverpitcher.com. I'm talking about the one you might have seen and heard on the evening news earlier on this week. The one with Radio 702's John Robbie having it out on the phone with SA Rugby Boss, Oregan Hoskins.
A very awkward man
Oregan Hoskins
Once again, another incredibly emboerrissing display of ill-tact and naivety by someone in charge of something quite big in this country. As if competing with Bheki Cele, Hoskins comes across as a dangerously petrified overly-defensive stray-cat, randomly clawing the air in front of its face. But he is helpless and pathetic as Robbie, with one hand holding a fist of his victim's hair and the other guiding his hip bone, smiles as he looks down and watches his cock gliding effortlessly, in and out of Hoskins.
The audio clip is SO fucking punishing that I was squealing with excitement as it unraveled. I had to pause halfway 'cos I was getting a bone.
Quota system turned on its head. Now EVERYONE can play! [permalink]
I've been trying to ignore mentions of Luke Watson LONG before the latest vomit of press surrounding his selection in the Springbok training camp. His inclusion in the 45/46-man training squad was more of a headache knowing what press was to follow, than it was HAVING him and his peculiar walk there in the first place.
It's common knowledge that Jake White can't stand Luke "I pay, I order" Watson*, nor his father, Cheeky Watson. The reason/s (without going into graphic detail for now) being largely to do with the underlying trend that Cheeky is a pain in the arse. The nauseating pain of which has recently been felt by the South African Rugby Union. Who do you think was nagging and threatening them and other influencing bodies LONG before the list was called out?
New quota player - Lukho Watshembi "Ngubane igama lakho?"
"Ngu Lukho igama lam"
And now that his name HAS been called out, they're saying it's because of what his father did for rugby in the apartheid years. Better yet, they said he was INITALLY EXCLUDED because of what his father did. So you're saying Jake was excluding him because of what his father did for South African rugby? I very much doubt it.
I passed out and when I woke up I nearly wrote an article based purely on the hilarity I saw in the potential headline: "Luke Watson is black."
I didn't have the strength to write anything and later looked at The Argus and the headline was exactly that! LUKE WATSON IS BLACK! I nearly pissed myself. And it wasn't even a joke, it was a FUCKING QUOTE! By none other than Western Cape Premier, Ebrahim Rasool! Huh? Now why is he suddenly getting involved? (I did mention "other influencing bodies" earlier).
So now they're saying that his father's past is the REASON WHY HE IS BEING INCLUDED. Jesus, guys, the story is shifting every step of the way.
Just to bring you up to speed, Cheeky Watson caused a bit of a scene and got into quite a bit of trouble in the old days when he and some other provincial players went to play for a township rugby team. Being slap bang in the middle of apartheid South Africa, they were pushing it a bit and their actions were nothing short of illegal. Rebels with a cause.....
Well clap............fucking.............clap!
Wow! I tell you what, this is pretty exciting for me. You see, it is a fact that my dad organised one of the first rugby games between UCT and a township rugby side in the 70's. It caused such a scene that the president at the time (Vorster?) took away my dad's passport. I'm not spicing you - this is a true story.
Now I just want to know, did they take away Cheeky's passport? Because if they didn't then my dad's stance against apartheid caused MORE of a scene than Cheeky's and MAYBE I SHOULD BE IN THAT FUCKING TRAINING SQUAD? It's been quite some time since I put some dubbin on my Patrick Legends and took them for a run around the park, but at the prospect of getting some top quality post-test-match blow jobs, I'll give it a bash!
It won't be long till you'll once again hear the cries from the sidelines, "Pop it up for CTAP!" (pronounced "see"+"tap"). That's what they used to scream whenever the ball was heading down the line towards me (on the wing) at school.
"Give it to CTAP", they would scream!
CTAP obviously stands for "Coming Through At Pace."
But, unlike Luke, my Dad doesn't refer to me as "The King" and therefore won't be pressurising all and sundry into making sure I make it into the side. We don't operate like that.
We just stay cool.
Humble.
Carrying on with what we were doing.
Waiting for them to do their homework and realise that I'm black.
* " I pay, I order" - refers to the moment our boy snatched the menu out of his dinner date's hand, before she made her meal choice, and proclaimed, "I pay, I order."
Before we say anything, I think a big happy birthday to Laetitia Casta, who turned 29 on 11 May! Happy Birthday poppit! And what better gift than to have your stunning tabs presented to the 2oceansvibe faithful!
"Teesh"
(if you know her as well as we do)
Just to bring you up to speed, Laetitia has been the face of L'Oreal, Dior and Chanel (we like Chanel). She also hasn't been shy of punishing a bit of Victoria' Secret, ELLE magazine, Vogue, Guess?, Rolling Stone, Sports Illustrated and the Pirelli Tires Calendar. Well, anyone who is a friend of Pirelli's, is a friend of ours!
Hardiman the Partyman stays true to himself [permalink]
I was thoroughly impressed the other day when I received an email from Richard Hardiman. Having spent some time working at Forwardslash, it seemed that things had finally come to a head. In a very conservative Old Mutualy move, Forwardslash decided to block their employees' access to the bastion of all things good and relevant, 2oceansvibe. I can hear your gasps....[bless you] For a new age company it does seem QUITE bizarre. Hardiman had had enough and decided to call it a day. As with most well structured companies, Forwardslash requires it's ex-employees to undergo an "exit interview." in the section marked "reasons for leaving," our boy cited (in bold caps) that his biggest reason for leaving was the fact that 2oceansvibe was blocked on the server and he could no longer continue living like that.
It was returned by HR who laughed it off and asked if he, seriously, would like to amend it.
He declined.
Sensational!
Once featured as Mr. July in a 2006 Cosmo calendar, Hardiman decided that his job was not indicative of the 2oceansvibe mantra, "Work is a sideline, live the holiday" and has opted for his preferred post of DJ for 3 hours a day (3pm - 6pm) at Cape Town's number one radio station, Kfm 94.5.
Now that makes MUCH more sense, Harders. That can certainly NOT be termed "work."
Easily the worst photograph
ever taken of Harders.
Really, he's not really like this.
With The DJ live on air on every week morning 6am to 9am, and Harders from 3pm - 6pm, Kfm is forming a close-to-seamless non-norm lineup.
So there you have it! Finally, the perfect answer to the drivel we have been served in the afternoon by 5fm's "DJ Fresh", who honestly believes that the ostensibly intelligent fart that comes out of his mouth is actually going to wash with us. Give it up, Fresh. You're a DJ, not a DJ. You're like a Lamborghini kit car. We're not buying that bullshit.
I thought the girls out there might enjoy this. For those who don't know, Eric Bana featured in films such as Munich, Troy, Black Hawk Down, Chopper - as well as the greatest Australian movie of all time - The Castle.
I am compelled to pay attention to Eric, as we did have a few chats together with Miss Universe, Jennifer Hawkins, at the 2006 Melbourne Formula 1 Grand Prix. He's a good bloke. I am also quite happy to acknowledge that he is a good looking bloke, and one that the girls out there would probably like to look at.
So here you go - some recent shots and Eric Bana. Click to enlarge.
