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.
Just as we get used to Brendan, they send in another one [permalink]
I had a small cotch in my mouth and then swallowed it again, as I opened the door, looked at the bill and noticed that the person in front of me, "Ed," was in the process of completing his 185th "mission...... for Butlers Pizza"
Oh sweet Jesus Mother of God.
Is this really happening to me?
I don't know if Butlers are doing a collaboration with Ashton Kutcher but I, as usual, specifically ASKED FOR A BUTLER WITH AT LEAST 1,000 MISSIONS UNDER HIS BELT! Someone tell me I'm being Punk'd! Please, dear God, tell me you're not SERIOUSLY fucking around with me to this extent?!
It takes me back to the day I got Brendan for the first time. He was on his 12th mission. I nearly had a nervous breakdown at the time but managed to make it through to the other side. The next time he came to The Safe House he was on his 71st mission - coming along nicely. Although I was still freaked out that he was sub 1,000, I had confidence in him. I could see he wasn't like the other drivers. This kid had it all. Attitude, guts.....determination. This kid could easily go down as one of the best of the best. One of the biggest. As big as Martin Cummerford? I don't know. Time will tell.
I've got used to Brendan and congratulated him on raising his bat the last time he brought pizza, noting that he was over the 100 mark. God.... who would have thought...
Surely?
Anyway. I ordered pizza again tonight from Butlers and, can you believe it, they went and did it again! I opened the door and was presented with "Ed". I could tell from just looking at him that he was sub 200. I looked down at the bill........ 185 missions. As I fucking thought. If I hadn't had a fresh joint before he arrived I would have bludgeoned him to death with my mouse.
I told him I just had to go to the other room to get the money. I went to my bedroom and lay down for a minute. How was I possibly going to make it through this? This guy was a fucking nightmare! Where did they find this pretender? Was he a human, or did they create him in order to destroy me? Ed was OUTRAGEOUS! He was just too untidy. His bow tie was skew, he didn't stand up straight, he was almost definitely stoned and......and....and that BEARD!. Oh for fuck sakes man! What is going on with that beard? It was such a blur and happened so fast.....Honestly......I can't even tell you if he was was wearing his cummerband or not..
..I DOUBT he was.
[take a breath]
I kept my eye on the ground as I passed him the cheque and pointed to the door to show him what his next move was going to be.
He skulked out the room....
"Ay thanks for the tip, bruuuuu"
"Pleasure" [GET THE FUCK OUT OF HEEEERE!]
"Hey........ like, how do I like.....do the door downstairs bru?"
[how do I "do" the door? What is that? Do you want to fuck the door?]
"You turn the knob and then remember to close it nicely" [AAAAARRRGH!! Get this guy out of my liiiife!]
This "dynamite surfing" video which formed part of a Quiksilver viral marketing ad, was sent to me last week by Mr. Durban. I reminded myself that he was not only a sportsman and international fashion icon, but also an avid surfer.
They are taking something like 5% off all sale items EVERY DAY! At the moment it is on 30% and I certainly contributed to the purchases made today. It's mayhem!
I found this place by mistake because I was looking on the Ape Town website to see where Ape Town T-shirts were being sold - whaddaya know, they're being sold at eSquared! Those who know will tell you about the magic of this little shop. But then again, maybe they won't. Because, like me, they've probably been keeping it a secret.
Well the secret is out and the sale is MASSIVE!
Check it out urgently at 11 Regent Road, Sea Point.
I have been saving these images over the last week. I do that a lot of the time. I just want to have them on my rock-hard drive. Seeing them on the uniweb is one thing, but knowing that I have them in my possession just brings me closer to them. I keep them for a while, then I delete them. I am then content that I have HAD them. I sort of wanted to write a short article on each one, but I got lazy. Anyway, here they are. They all have a similar theme.
Happy Friday, boys and girls!
Petra Nemcova - going for it
Simpson, busty
Again - she enjoys it
Looking very much like a tranny
Posh - giving it a full rev
Simpson - it's quite apparent that she is
a big fan of her tabs
One tends to take for granted the rapturous joy and excitement experienced in high school when Mark Wahlberg first hit the scene as Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch.
Mark Wahlberg in his "Marky Mark" guise
I asked The P.A. today if she had ever heard of Mark Wahlberg's previous stage name and his group's hit song "Good Vibrations." No, she hadn't. I felt that we should kill two birds with one stone and educate the new, as well as remind the old.
God! It's a classic!
And so, I give you:
Marky Mark and The Funky Bunch Good Vibrations
Yo! It's about that time
To bring forth the rhythm and the rhyme
I'm a get mine so get yours
I wanna see sweat comin' out your pores
On the house tip is how I'm swingin' this
Strictly Hip-Hop boy, I ain't singin' this
Bringing this to the entire nation
Black, white, red, brown
Feel the vibration
Come on come on
Feel it feel it
Feel the vibration
It's such a good vibration
It's such a sweet sensation
It's such a good vibration
It's such a sweet sensation
Vibrations good like Sunkist
Many wanna know who done this
Marky Mark and I'm here to move you
Rhymes will groove you
And I'm here to prove to you
That we can party on the positive side
And pump positive vibes
So come along for the ride
Making you feel the rhythm is my occupation
So feel the vibration
Come on come on
Feel it feel it
Feel the vibration
As we take a trip down memory lane at the Beacon Island Hotel [permalink]
I'm never driving to Plett again. A couple of weeks back we went by plane (40 minutes - give me a break) to George and hired a car for a four night stay at The Beacon Island Hotel in Plett, to attend the wedding of Mr and Mrs. Crazy Eyes. Flying is the answer. It actually works out cheaper. Split the rental car between the boys. Think about speeding fines, petrol etc. Oh and don't forget to take into account pad-kos as well. It adds up, guys.
The wedding was an explosion of excitement and one that will not be forgotten for quite some time. Thanks, guys.
But that's another story altogether...
The B.I. - PLETT
Nostalgia City
I was treated to a walk down memory lane as we wreaked havoc in the hotel for four days. In terms of room service, I am happy to report that the chicken mayo saamies are still top notch; best washed down with a double-thick choc or strawberry milkshake. And a chicken burger. And two Cokes. And a Fanta. And Tabasco. And vinegar. Make it two Fantas.
God it was fun. Memories of multiple annual timesharing visits as a child (only child) came flooding back. They still had those lists of the day's events next to the lifts.
10h30 Kids Mania! (Meet in the foyer)
12h00 - Bingo at the pool (Clickety-fucking-click SIXTY-SIX!)
14h00 - Egg throwing on the terrace lawn
and so it goes on.....
18h30 - Cocktails in the Sea Lounge - Meet the hotel staff and management
We weren't able to make it to bingo that day but, having a pool facing room, we were lucky enough to be able to scream FUCKING BINGO! out the window from time to time - thus having the best-time-ever without actually walking outside.
We even managed to catch (unintended) some egg-throwing action right below us. Some of these kids were soooo shit. GOD it was infuriating. They're like so fucking unco! Watch this video and keep your eye on the little prick in the middle at the top of the screen. Blue shorts, no shirt.
Christ. WHAT a revolting child!
You fucking thick IDIOT!
GOD!
And so it went on.
We blurred around town from The Deck to Cornuti's (hour-and-a-half it took for those fucking pizzas) and back to the hotel again. (We did this once in four days)
They don't have video games downstairs anymore.
That was a big disappointment. In fact I haven't quite stopped and thought more about this. I mean, what's your fucking problem? Why no video games? That's SO childish! I wanted to get like a hundred tokens and clock all the games.
There was a reduced quota of angels at the hotel, with the only eligible contender being the hotel's nanny. She's the one who plays with all the kids during Kids Mania hour. Little slut.
The dream couldn't carry on forever though. We had to come out of the haze. It was time to go home. We went for the Toyota Corolla Verso from Avis. That's quite some car. I'm not sure what the fuck they're trying to do with that model but it's a fucking conundrum to me. The Outside Centre got the same model of car from the airport (having realised that making us wait two hours for His Royal Highness to land was pushing it a bit) and agreed that the car confused the crap out of him. It's SUCH a crap car. It's like sooo long. And the dashboard is like so fucking huge and long. There are two armrests on the door side - one is too high and one is too low. Very bizarre!
There was a bonsella at the very end when we noticed that Avis had left a cooler box in the boot from the previous rental. Possession is nine-tenths so we held a quick competition. All the bell-boys (racist?) and door staff had to guess what kind of fish I was thinking of.
The symbol of all that is sexual and provocative, Prince, will be performing an "unprecedented" 21 concerts in London, often changing the show's lineup from night to night.
I would definitely go if I was in London. It's Prince, for God's sake! I mean, look at the guy! Here he is leaving Bouji's nightclub in London this week. Check his outfit! Only superstars can wear that kind of shit.(Speaking of which, Big H - Saturday June 2nd - Bouji's - has it been organised?).
Genius
He is such a fucking star, it's a joke. Prince is above it all. He dresses and talks like a woman but has probably banged more women than all of us put together. His songs are CONSTANTLY referring to women - he is besotted by the fairer sex. So much so that he behaves like them . He wants women INSIDE him.
Sexual
I was working part time in a five-and-dime
My boss was Mr. McGee
He told me several times that he didn't like my kind
'Cause I was a bit 2 leisurely
Seems that I was busy doing something close 2 nothing
But different than the day before
That's when I saw her, Ooh, I saw her
She walked in through the out door, out door
She wore a raspberry beret
The kind U find in a second hand store
Raspberry beret
And if it was warm she wouldn't wear much more
Raspberry beret
I think I love her
Take it in. We're getting pure, classic Hilts at the moment [permalink]
God she makes me smile!
What we are seeing now is a full, genuine, in the public eye, sulk and moan session - played out in front of us, in reality. The lip dragging on the ground. The moping! Shame....the poor little BABBA. Daddy's little babba is upset. She REALLY is giving it a good go! Take it in people. And remember it. This is a living, walking, talking emoticon for the "Poor Little Rich Girl."
Shame. But I do feel for her. I mean, I'm a spoilt brat and things upset me the WHOLE time. It's not easy - when everyone is always being so nasty ALL the time. No one understands. No one cares.
What began as a let down, turned into the greatest day ever - Lucky girl! [permalink]
Now these are the stories that really warm my heart. The TBG (Tall Blonde Guy), once again, turning sad people into happy people. The sea of smiles that he leaves in his wake can only be compared to Moses and the little number he pulled when he parted the Red Sea.
The setting for this incredible sighting is the My Cokefest concert held in Kenilworth last week. Not surprising the TBG was there, he is often spotted supporting The Dirty Skirts.
Listen to this story and feel the goose bumps!
Axl Who?
Hey Seth,
1 May was the best day of my life. I worked in the bar at the mycokefest and was minding my customers when suddenly a god stepped into the bar area. My heart started beating faster and everything fell silent as I saw my tall blonde hero gliding towards the bar, his feet barely touching the ground because of his awesomeness. One of the other bargirls attempted to serve him but I couldn't allow it, so I pushed her out of the way and took my place at the bar in front of this magnificent creature - this was not a chance I was about to give up. I was in his service. He could ask me for anything. I served him his drink (which I poured extra full, he deserves only the best) and then he gave me R5 tip. R5 from the tbg. R5 which I did not put into the tip jar as we are supposed to - there is no way that anyone is laying their hands on my TBG tip.
It was truly an amazing experience. It was like things just fell into place - I actually had a ticket for the coke fest but cancelled it because guns&roses decided not to come, so I got the job instead and you know what Seth, it was meant to be. Fuck Axl Rose, who would want to see him if they could see the TBG instead?
Know what I mean?
Danielle M
Hah! You bet I do, Danielle!
And who would have thought that the let down of one of your heroes not playing at mycokefest would be replaced by AN EVEN BIGGER HERO!! It's one of those stories that should be made into a movie.
Well done, my angel, you must be struggling to wipe that smile off your face!
When you go to the website, you will notice the following. For the Playstation 3, There is a maximum bid of R350 and an admin fee of R50. The 'required bids' is 250 (maximum number of bids allowed for the auction) . These figures will change with every item on the website.
What this means is that no more than 250 bids can be made on the Playstation. No bid can be higher than R350 and you are charged R50 for every bid you guess. The winner of the Playstation 3 will be the highest unique bid (The highest amount that ONLY ONE PERSON chose. Hopefully YOU!).
Understanding the concept becomes quite simple if you understand exactly what the word 'unique' means. It is the 'only one' or the highest 'stand alone' bid.
That means if you bid R350 (full Rands only, no cents) and someone else also bids R350, then neither of you win - because the bid is not unique. R350 is therefore NOT the highest UNIQUE bid. So if you also make a bid of R349 and you are the only person to choose R349, then you will have the highest UNIQUE bid. Congratulations, the Playstation 3 is yours for R349!
This is the result if you mix French, English, Cherokee, Lebanese and Syrian blood. It's a good result. They should do it more often.
Some of you might not know that, apart from being wank fodder in the movie American Pie, Shannon Elizabeth is one of the top ranking celebrity poker players in the US and visits Vegas up to three times every month. She enjoys it. We enjoy her.
One, two, three and to the fo
Snoop doggy dogg and dr. dre are at the do
Ready to make an entrance, so back on up
[cuase you know we bout had to rip shit up]
Gimme the microphone first, so I can bust like a bubble
Compton and long beach together, now you know you in trouble
Aint nothin but a g thang, baaaaabay!
Two loced out gs so were craaaaazay!
Death row is the label that paaaaays me!
Unfadable, so please dont try to fade this [hell yeah]
But, uh, back to the lecture at hand
Perfection is perfected, so Im a let em understand
From a young gs perspective
And before me dig out a bitch I have ta find a contraceptive
You never know she could be earnin her man,
And learnin her man, and at the same time burnin her man
Now you know I aint wit that shit, lieutenant
Aint no pussy good enough to get burnt while Im up in it
Now thats realer than real-deal holyfield
And now all you hookas and hos know how I feel
Well if its good enough to get broke off a proper chunk
Ill take a small piece of some of that funky stuff
Its like this and like that and like this and uh
Its like that and like this and like that and uh
Its like this and like that and like this and uh
Dre, creep to the mic like a phantom
Dr dre:
Well Im peepin, and Im creepin, and Im creep-in
But I damn near got caught, cause my beeper kept beepin
Now its time for me to make my impression felt
So sit back, relax, and strap on your seatbelt
You never been on a ride like this befo
With a producer who can rap and control the maestro
At the same time with the dope rhyme that I kick
You know, and I know, I flow some ol funky shit
To add to my collection, the selection
Symbolizes dope, take a toke, but dont choke
If ya do, ya have no clue
O what me and my homey snoop dogg came to do
Its like this and like that and like this and uh
Its like that and like this and like that and uh
Its like this, and we aint got no love for those
So jus chill, til the next episode
Snoop:
Fallin back on that ass with a hellified gangsta lean
Gettin funky on the mic like a old batch o collard greens
Its the capital s, oh yes, the fresh n double o p
D o double g y d o double g ya see
Showin much flex when its time to wreck a mic
Pimpin hos and clockin a grip like my name was dolomite
Yeah, and it dont quit
I think they in a mood for some mothafuckin g shit
So dre. [what up dogg? ]
We gotta give em what dey want [whats that, g? ]
We gotta break em off somethin [hell yeah]
And its gotta be bumpin [city of compton!]
Its where it takes place so Im a ask your attention
Mobbin like a mothafucka but I aint lynchin
Droppin the funky shit thats makin the sucka niggaz mumble
When Im on the mic, its like a cookie, they all crumble
Try to get close, and your assll get smacked
My mothafuckin homie doggy dogg has my back
Never let me slip, cause if I slip, then Im slippin
But if I got my nina, then you know Im straight trippin
And Im a continue to put the rap down, put the mack down
And if your bitches talk shit, I have ta put the smack down
Yeah, and ya dont stop
I told you Im just like a clock when I tick and I tock
But Im never off, always on, til the break dawn
C o m p t o n, and the city they call long beach
Puttin the strength together
Like my homey d.o.c., no one can do it better
Like this, that and this and uh
Its like that and like this and like that and uh
Its like this, and we aint got no love for those
So jus chill, til the next episode
It is not common for the TBG (Tall Blonde Guy) to bless a group of people at one time, but it certainly has happened at least once! In these remarkable photographs we see the TBG very calmly dealing with the mass hysteria and weeping that one would expect from a book club sharing such an occasion together. These girls bonded that day....like sisters. Like the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. They witnessed the TBG together and they will never be closer than at that moment.
This, from Natalie S:
The only face that one can see clearly.
Like a vision
Hi Seth
Our story is somewhat unique ... about a month ago a group of 5 ladies in their 20s met for the first time for "book club" - although excited we all were pretty apprehensive as we met over the internet and we all are aware of the horror stories of stalkers etc ...
the evening started well, wine flowed as did the conversation topics and somehow I landed on the topic ... did they know about the TBG and had they ever sighted them? To my surprise none of them had ever heard of such a thing let alone seen him.
The night passed on and oh my word something caught my attention at the bar - there he was in all his glory - i could hardly mouth the words ... oh my word there he is - the TBG can you believe it! The courageous one in the group Sue sauntered over to him and asked him could her friend ask him a question? As he approached the table it was undeniable - here is was - right in front of me ... as i asked my question he flashed an all-knowing smile ... "Are you the TBG"
A mere slant of the head confirmed our suspicions - we erupted into happiness disrupting the rest of the restaurant and attempted to take photos on my el-lameo cell phone - although the pictures are poor quality we humbly request you accept our story as it truly was a experience for us!
In honour of our sighting we named our "book club" TBG (the book girls)
Regards
Natalie S
On behalf of Tracy Lee,Sue, Jenna, Courtney & Tinkie (still a TBG virgin)
The symbol of hope
That is one of the sweetest and most beautiful stories I have ever read. Well done, Natalie! And congratulations on the naming of your club. There is one word for what happened to you that night.
A W E S O M E !!!
And once again, another heart is touched. Another soul lifted. Another life saved.
It is a difficult pill to swallow. This morning we learn that our symbol of all that is pink and sparkly and sexual, Paris Hilton, is going to jail for 45 days. Her sentence will begin June 5.
A Los Angeles County Superior Court judge has sentenced Paris Hilton to 45 days in L.A. County jail for violating her probation in a reckless driving case. Judge Michael T. Sauer handed down the harsh sentence, telling Paris she will not be allowed work release, furloughs, use of an alternative jail or electronic monitoring in lieu of jail. She must do the time!
Shhh! [finger to the lip]
Be..............strong......
Can you fucking believe it? Hilts will be in jail, with other criminals. For 45 days! That's like a decade in Chihuahua years.
UN BE LIEVABLE!
Imagine afterwards when she is snapped at The Ivy or some nightclub with her new prison mates. "Paris leaves Ivy with Heather "Dookie" Jones". It's crazy!
Shame, the little babba must be very upset. I don't like the thought of her in such a rough environment. I just hope it's hygienic and that she can sleep softly and be able to wash her cookie daily. I also hope to God there is a bit of pink on the prison's uniform.
The beauty of this whole thing, of course, is that I arrive in Los Angeles on the 5th of June for this year's Strengthening Ties Tour. I must surely pay a visit.
She's beautiful when she's petrified.
That is why we play the murder game before we make love.
Click here for videos of Hilts arriving and leaving court.
That's right girls! This one's for YOU! Brad Pitt holding his and Angelina's love-child, Shiloh.
Oh my God..
How beautiful..
Look how gorgeous the setting is. Look how wonderful this man is with this child. You need a man like that. Someone soft, gentle, but also fucking loaded and easy on the eye. You will find him. Don't worry. Or maybe you have found him already?
Do you think you have?
I beg your pardon......
Oh you DO, do you?
Well you listen here, missie. And you listen carefully. Have a close look at your "protector". Is he REALLY Brad Pitt? Could you REALLY possibly EVER be able to recreate a set of shots like these of your husband and child? With that kind of dream lighting and soft focus? And at that perfect season when all the trees are special shades of green - shades that have been delicately represented in both Brad and Shiloh's clothing.
No, that is not your husband.
And tell me this.... When he makes love to you, could it ever compare to the magnificent orchestra of love that leaps like a choir of angels from the glory of Brad's perfect penis?
NOT A FLYING FUCK.
So for now, ladies, be honest. Be jealous. Take it all in.
This is your moment.
Just you, Brad....and your child. I want you to drift away...
Please, give this guy some crayons to play with [permalink]
Following our earlier analysis of Bheki Cele's mind and how he can POSSIBLY be allowed to say the things he does, he has chosen to trump all expectations and further emboeriss the State.
In the latest installment of insanity, the Kwazulu/Natal MEC for Transport has chosen to ensconce himself in the task of trying to obtain the name of the individual who sent in a cellphone video of his (Cele's) reckless blue light convoy. Reported on IOL, he allows us to further question what he actually does in the day by blurting out fresh-new ludicrous statements including (of the person who captured the video):
"He is a self-made, arrogant, non-accountable individual who purports to be a good citizen and I will dare to argue that he is also a racist"
Oooooh !!!!!! Low-blow, Bheki!
"We want his name so that he could explain his breaking of the law which includes speeding, using a cellphone whilst driving and threatening the PRemier's security"
Shame...
"It is surprising that the only newspapers reporting on this are the English newspapers. The issue has not been picked by Zulu newspapers"
I am sure I speak on behalf of a lot of people when I say how BORING, CHILDISH and PATHETIC it is for people to scream "racist" these days with such ease. Are you kidding me? The guy filmed you behaving like a lunatic on the road and now he is a racist? Get a grip, Bheki! You're losing it! You're rising to the bait! you don't even know his name, let alone his race!
For a man who considers his being late for a meeting as an emergency, is this REALLY a matter that you should take up your "valuable" time with?
The aspiring film-maker replied that the law has to do with operating a cellphone whilst driving, not a video camera. BEAUTIFULLY DONE, mystery man! It reminds me of a social experiment I wish to perform. I am very keen to drive as close to as I can to traffic police with a block of wood held to my ear. Once stopped my the police for using a cellphone whilst driving, I would like to see what happens when I show them the piece of wood I was using. They would have a fine ready for me, I'm sure. Something to do with "pretending" to use a cellphone.
I too was the victim of someone shouting racist the other day. Following my article on Bheki Cele. I received the following email:
hey seth
thanks for your site - lekker to have a chuckle south african style here in the uk, where people don't share our sense of humour. it's also good to see someone give HST his due - the dude was a legend.
but i thought i'd email to say your post about bheki cele is a bit racist. i agree he's an insane cunt, and the whole story is absurd and embarrassing. but the headline on the story and the "africa time" stuff implies that it's because he's black and african that he's a cunt. which is not true, and racist.
Otherwise, keep up the good work,
[name withheld]
Whilst our boy does mean well and is an avid reader of 2oceansvibe, it sickens me to think that there is this continued obsession to finger "racists". What is going on, people? Is it not boring to carry on like that?
In my reply I explained that the idea and headline of the incriminating article was created by a friend of mine, Swazi.
I've mixed up two stories here to save time. You'll understand the heading once you've made it through this muck I've written.
Whilst IOL did pretty well in telling you about Britney Spears's latest "almost-nude" photo shoot at a friends house "in a botanical garden," they did not have the courtesy of giving you the actual pics. Here they are. You will be forgiven for thinking she is somewhere in Kirstenbosch or Bishopscourt.
Click image to get closer to Britters, and nature...
This incredible picture report comes at the same time as reports of Britney's surprise concert at the House of Blues in San Diego this week. Britney was apparently appalling and knocked out some old hits including 'Baby, one more time' and 'Toxic'.
Here we have one still pic and one video of her performance. You will notice quite a bit of muffin-top in this pic.
....is back again and he has chosen another 2oceansvibe staple for his latest creation - our favourite little tart, Paris Hilton.
Paris Hilton - as we will remember her
As an excuse for the autopsy sculpture, Daniel Edwards claims it is to warn young woman about the dangers of drunk driving. Yeah, whatever! You just wanted to play with her what-what!
The sculpture features her little Chihuahua, Tinkerbell, clambering over her breasts, as well as a cellphone in her hand. As your eyes may have relayed to your brain, the sculpture feature Hilts in the spatch-cock position. Apparently the abdomen can open up and organs can be removed from inside our little princess.
thanks andy
Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com [permalink]
2 May, 2007
DANISH SCHOOL PUPILS STRIPTEASE
A well respected annual event! Understandably.. [permalink]
One thing I certainly do miss about my time in London is the free Metro newspaper found at all underground tube stations. They just seemed to filter through all the bullshit and give us the news that mattered. For Free! Every morning!
I am VERY pleased indeed that they have their own website where one can get the same news online! From anywhere in the world! Thanks be to the "internet".
Yesterday's issue gave us a particularly exciting story about an annual strip show held at a school in Denmark. With the chance to win the best seating for the year in the school's canteen, pupils stopped at nothing to win. Whilst the striptease is not meant to go further than a normal naked strip, some kids went a little overboard this year and entered into an impromptu lesbian romp on stage. Teachers had to step in at that stage as the school strip show had gone a little too far.
Sure beats the Annual Fashion Show!
Good Lord! Look at that bum!
Whilst education chiefs want the annual striptease banned, the school insists that a little strip show amongst pupils is nothing to get one's knickers in a knot about.
Erik Oleson, the [LEGENDARY] head teacher at Silkeborg said everyone, including the school governors, had known about the contest and described it as 'harmless fun.'
I don't know what everyone is freaking out about. Our school priests used to massage our ball-sacks on camp whilst we slept. Surely THAT'S worse? It's like that story I commented on about the female teacher who was arrested after boning a few of the pupils. They described the boys as victims, when everyone knows they are fucking HEROES!
Anyway, obviously someone was there to capture this whole affair on their clever little cellphone video camera. It was on YOUTUBE earlier but has been pulled down as people think it's bad.
thanks clinton m
Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com [permalink]
1 May, 2007
TUESDAY TABS # 28
Victoria Silvstedt - Sportswomen, Playmate [permalink]
For someone who started out as a member of the Swedish National ski team, Victoria Silvstedt has certainly gone from strength to strength. When a shoulder injury ended her career at 16, her mother entered her into Miss Sweden and she came second and went on to reach the final 8 in Miss World in the mid-90's (hosted in South Africa). Playboy was only moments away and she became Playmate of the Year in 1997. Hating that!
We're proud of you, my angel. Keep it coming.
Vics Silvstedt
Sportwomen, playmate, object of your affection
In case you missed it, Kwazulu/Natal MEC for TRANSPORT, Bheki Cele, has hit out at critics and vehemently defended his motorcade's use of blue lights the other day, BECAUSE HE WAS LATE FOR A MEETING!
Cele went on to say that flashing blue lights were used for emergencies and his being late for a meeting, "constitutes an emergency."
By this fact, and using the Bheki Cele mathematics dictionary, we can deduce the following:
If x = Real Time - Africa Time
and Bheki's lateness for a meeting = emergency (given)
and lateness for a meeting = Real Time - Africa Time (given)
then x = emergency
Therefore: Africa Time - Real Time = emergency
This obviously differs greatly from the dictionary definition of 'emergency' which describes: "a sudden unforeseen crisis (usually involving danger) that requires immediate action."
Bheki's being late for a meeting is not a fucking "crisis".
Bheki Cele (centre) having an emergency meeting
As much as everyone agrees that he is off his head, this anger we feel is far outweighed by the pure uncut embarrassment we feel when yet another one of our ministers is seen by the WHOLE FUCKING WORLD to be publicly and confidently trying to justify being late for a meeting as an 'emergency'. Do you know what everyone says the moment they hear that, Bheki? It's QUITE simple and it's QUITE obvious. I know because I just said it to myself:
Who the FUCK does Bheki Cele think he is?
And for Bheki Cele to not have the basic understanding of how actions convert to reactions is just too alarming for words. Any semi-politically minded individual and anyone with HALF a brain would LIE and make up another excuse. But for him to not be AWARE of the potential public outcry following such a ludicrous statement, is just beyond me! This VERY CLEARLY illustrates that the minister has absolutely ZERO understanding of politics and general human behaviour and is devoid of any social skills, principles or conscience. In fact, it frighteningly lends itself to the Mugabe/Hitler errant moral compass - that which screams complete arrogance and utter belief in one's carious standards.
You think I'm exaggerating? I swear to God there are more than just a handful of foreigners overseas reading this morning's article on the internet, saying JUST THAT.
It's always nice to see one of our boys, Christian Slater, still commanding only the highest quality poontang at all times. Here we see our boy chilling on the beach with a sophisticated brunette angel. God Slates is cool. He's just too cool.
Bones her when he wants
Brunettes are SO right now!
Here's another pic for you to click. Howz our boy's trouser area?
So much is being said about Alec Baldwin's state of mind during that infamous phone message to his daughter, Ireland. Some say he is a bastard, others say he is is merely under immense stress, thanks to Kim Basinger who manipulates and confuses him, CONSTANTLY. But most of us realise that he is just a little boy, trapped inside an actor, wanting to give his best performance EVERY TIME!
And that is why now, a week on from the incident, we here at 2oceansvibe.com decided that a little bit more clarity was called for. Out of the goodness of our hearts and without a penny from the Baldwin Foundation, we have painstakingly recreated that moment in that New York hotel room, where there was nothing but Alec, his phone and a bottle of Jamesons. Finally, we can visualise how it went down.
