Tag Archives: sex

Grumpy humour: A top 10

20 Feb

I’m a sucker for grumpy humour. Where most people stopped watching My Family when Nick disappeared, I happily carry on watching because of my favourite character – the universally disliked Ben Harper – is still there. A grumpy old dentist who basically hates his life and everything in it, he’s TV’s ultimate grumpy old man.

But this post is not about Ben Harper – it’s about a book that reads as if it was written by him: Is it just me, or is everything shit?

Ben Harper - the grumpiest, funniest bugger on TV

Ben Harper – the grumpiest, funniest bugger on TV

This book is not to be found on any current best seller list, and is probably not even easily available at the shops anymore. I found it at an Exclusive Books sale years ago, and rediscovered it this week.

Almost 300 pages of pure disgruntledness about, well, everything.It’s fabulous when you just hate the world and all its Polyannas. (It’s also the sort of thing the Erasmus and Snyman cousins find hilarious – so here’s to Carli, me, Iranda, Caroline and Lara. I’m not sure why we have such a sick sense of humour, but I love it.)

Allow me to share my personal Top 10 entries:

1. Unnecessary Greeting Cards

“For my wife…On Mother’s Day.” Such messages are presumably intended to carry the subtext “For my wife on Mother’s Day, because, as you know, I tend to think of you as my mother.”

“Congratulations on your divorce!” Presumably comes with the message: “Roses are red / Violets are blue / You didn’t get the house / But you did get the canoe!”

“Congratulations on your teeth whitening!”

2. The Markets’ Reaction

Whenever a new terrorist catastrophe hits a major Western city, the first thought on every citizen’s mind is: Hmm, I wonder how my shares are doing. Oh, that’s right, I don’t have any. Still, I wonder how other people’s shares are doing… This is why, after the 7/7 bombings, news networks speedily escorted viewers away from the sites of the atrocities and toward the City of London to discover how “the markets” might be affected. And what did our correspondents tell us? Stocks remained “resilient.” Thank G*d.

Rich douche

Rich douche

(As a personal side note – I’m writing this in a coffee shop in Johannesburg. Often work from here. Table next to me has 3 typical “big city” JHB idiots who probably DO consider the markets’ reaction before anything else. Don’t expect any less from people who spend coffee with friends bragging about their stock portfolios and bank balances. Groan.)

3. Paying off your mortgage in 2 years

Top tip to save money to do this: Kill yourself.

There’s no surer way to spend less than being dead. As a bonus, any insurance policies you hold will be paying out like a fruit machine with three triple bars on hold… Irony is free, so treat yourself to a highly poignant death by smashing your brains open against the window of your bank… Now, for insurance reasons, it needs to look like an accident. You’ll need a big run-up to get enough force to kill yourself, so start from the other side of the road while looking down the street and smiling and waving into the distance, as if you have just seen an old acquaintance and have become distracted. Just keep running until you hit the bank and hopefully die… Also remember, in the days leading up to killing yourself, that you can save money by not eating anything or turning on any lights.

4. Sex tips

Some people are so expert at sex that they become “sexperts”. Some of the most common sex tips include the following:

Breathe on each other. As one of you breathes in, the other breathes out, so you inhale each other’s breath. Breathing – it rocks!

Don’t underestimate the erotic power of the elbow. Find out what you can do with yours and before long your love buddy will be dragging you upstairs as soon as you walk in the door!

Sexy!

Sexy!

Lather up each other’s pubic regions with shampoo to make amusing shapes. Laughter is a great way of creating a sexy atmosphere!?!?

Stuff each other’s mouths full of cheese – then lick each other all over. You’ll be amazed at the new sensations you both experience!

5. Kitsch Knickknack shops

“Ooh”, people think, “a present shop. Maybe I can get a present in this shop for presents and thus satisfy my present-buying needs.” Then they go inside and remember it’s actually a festival of shit with price tags on. You can find:

George Bush fridge magnets – you can dress him up as either Shirley Temple or Wonder Woman

Numerous cards featuring a picture of a 1950s housewife and a rude slogan – something like, ON SUNDAYS, DOREEN ENJOYED NOTHING BETTER THAN A GOOD SPIT ROAST

1950's housewife

1950’s housewife

A monkey. With the head of a monkey.

Of course, no-one actually wants this crap. But they get it anyway…

6. Celebrity perfumes and product lines

Celebrity fragrances have rubbish names. There’s Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker; David Beckham’s Instinct; True Star Gold by Beyonce… Sean John’s scent is Unforgivable. By which we don’t mean that it’s unforgivable, although it probably is.

Pop sensation Usher has his own line of credit cards aimed at impressionable teenagers. Sort of like saying, “Hey kids, if you enjoyed my album Confessions, you’ll love a life of debt!”

7. Ads for credit cards

Your life is not exciting enough, quite simply, because you haven’t borrowed enough money. That much should be self-evident. Borrowing money may make you taller. You will have a nicer smile, and have read more books – while still finding time for that all-important Jet-skiing holiday.

8. Baby name books

Nobody has ever found a good name in a baby book because most of the entries are things like Hadrian, Dylis, Mortimer, and Binky. Oh yes, and Adolf.

The UK’s Collins Gem version genuinely point out that the name has never been popular and received a further setback with the rise of Adolf Hitler.

Setback? I’ll say.

9. Porsche SUV’s

Want an SUV so you can loom over other road users like the US Army? But also want something sporty to accelerate ludicrously away from the lights before suddenly braking at the next roundabout?

Then the Porsche Cayenne is the car for you: two utterly pointless vehicles in one. No-one likes you.

10. Yummy mommies

Don’t just lie there! It’s been two hours since you’ve given birth. Get on that treadmill now. Or you’re never going to “snap right back” by the end of the week. Society expects!

Naughty, naughty!

Naughty, naughty!


Also, if you don’t spend on your child in its first 3 months the same as a yearly wage, then your child will be ugly and stupid. And who wants that?

***

Absolutely loved this book – treat yourself and find it online. The authors are Steve Lowe, Alan McArthur and Brendan Hay.

Why it’s okay to snub the Oscar buzz and go romcom

12 Feb

With Oscar season well underway, I should be positively ashamed of my choice of film this past weekend. Did I go for Les Mis? No. Lincoln? No. Beasts of the Southern Wild? Hell, no. I ignored every single “worth-it” film, and bought tickets for Klein Karoo instead.

Screw that - I'm watching the romcom

Screw that – I’m watching the romcom

And you know what? I’m glad.

(To my foreign readers: The exotic sounding Klein Karoo is not the sort of artsy African film trying too hard to be too edgy. It’s not the sort of thing that will be mentioned in the same sentence as the word Cannes. It does not deal with the usual slit-my-wrist themes of poverty, oppression and hope symbolised by the rising African sun. It does not feature quotes by Nelson Mandela, though it does feature many smiling little black children. It’s a fun, formulaic Romantic comedy about two people who start out mildly annoyed with one another and end up falling in love. Films from Africa can be innocent and fun, too.)

I felt like going to the movies, but I did not feel like chomping down on an extra large popcorn combo while watching Anne Hathaway starve. I needed a feel-good chick flick, and Klein Karoo promised exactly that.

Not a face to enjoy your popcorn to...

Not a face to enjoy your popcorn to…

Plus, I loooove 7de Laan (foregin readers’ note: The greatest soapie of all time), and just had to see good old Annelie and San-Marie in action on the big screen. That girl who used to do work in the pet shop with the nerdy outfits and thick glasses is also in the movie – she looks equally freaky this time, but in a good way.

The plot is pretty predictable, but the movie is as good as any American romcom – if you like your fluff, you’ll like this.

The difference between Klein Karoo and your typical Yank romcom is the fact that the plot succeeds without having a character even show as much as cleavage. That’s right – a romcom that actually acknowledges that Love and Romance is not about sex and “looking hot”. Take ANY American romcom, and you’re pretty much guaranteed to see some first date sex and hear some tasteless sex jokes. If you’re watching a “more conservative” film, you’ll no doubt hear reference to that bizarre American belief that sex is due on date number three.

(Huh? Where does that belief come from? Is it really applied, or is it a Hollywood land thing? I’d appreciate if someone could answer…)

Scene from your typical American romcom. Shameful, I tell ya!

Scene from your typical American romcom. Shameful, I tell ya! 😛

Klein Karoo does not contain a single sex scene. The kisses are not of the bedroom-eyed, suggestive type. The outfits are stylish, but proper. As my gran would have said – dis nou ‘n mooi, skoon storie. (Translation: Now that’s a nice, clean story.)

I found it a refreshing movie – the sort of thing you can watch with your mother and not get uncomfortable.

Though the characters are without exception one dimensional, the film nonetheless succeeds in making the audience care about them. Plus, there’s plenty of (fully clothed) eye candy. The number one romcom rule is, after all, that the fall-in-lovers must be sexy.

Some eye candy for the ladies

Some eye candy for the ladies

It’s impossible to write even a sentence about the plot without giving it away, but no-one watches a movie like this to be intrigued. You watch it to smile. So, in a nutshell:

Boy gets dumped. Girl is engaged to an asshole. Boy meets girl. Girl dumps asshole. You know the rest…

Highly recommended viewing for women looking for something lighthearted. Remember to take your guy with – no better payback than a chick flick to get him back for dragging you to the latest, tasteless Leon Schuster fart comedy…

Now showing at a cinema near you :)

Now showing at a cinema near you 🙂

If you’re paying for your photos, you’re not a real model.

4 Jun

I have about 4 girls on Facebook I no longer recognise.

I think it’s because they think they became Models.

You see, social media has made it possible for any old Perv with tattoos and a camera to regard himself a photographer, and any hot young thang with a big enough slut factor to regard herself a model.

This irks me. Don’t these girls realise that (some) people on Facebook know what they really look like? And that these people would really like to enjoy posting their status updates without having to stare at photoshopped tits? I guess they know, but don’t care. You know the type – come hither lashes, the lastest La Senza, too much pout.

 Your future husband doesn’t want the whole world seeing this

Maybe I’m missing something major, but it seems to me that these girls are doing little more than providing some home-use Hustler for cheapskate old men. What baffles me is that they do this with such enthusiasm.

The fact that most of these “Models” have more than 1000 friends leads me to believe that they know exactly what they’re doing – these girls use Facebook as a portfolio, and given the conspicuous absence of real modeling pics, raw attention from strange men seems to be enough reward. Then again, maybe they’re just hella optimistic about that “lucky break”.

Newsflash: I am yet to hear of a single success story as far as randoms approaching models via Facebook is concerned… I’ve heard of rape and murder, but no Vogue covers.

Mind you, Vogue is not the sort of magazine these girls seem to aim for anyway. Instead, they choose to spend Daddy’s money to look like Playboy bunnies or FHM Honeys or whatever they call sex objects nowadays.

Excuse me, dear reader, while I shed a tear for Feminism.

I have written about my bafflement with women’s participation in the pornography industry before, and wish to add that though I still don’t understand it, at least this vehicle provides some financial empowerment.

I have also been told that many women participating in first world sex work do so willingly, and after reading A Hot Night In Joon (http://ahotnightinjoon.com/tales-from-the-strip-club/ ), I gained some insights into this world. Read Jooni – she’s honest. She’s funny. She happens to work in a Strip Club.

That said, the Fakebook girls are not like this. In fact, they are paying to be objectified.

Photographer? R5000.

New lingerie? R2000.

Losing your dignity? Priceless.

 And then they brag about it, too.

Don’t they realise how ridiculous it sounds when they brag about the Bradley/Martin/Jones Shoot – oh so lah di dah – only to have the pictures appear nowhere but their own pages?

And don’t they realise how desperate it looks to spam 1000 strangers – and about 200 disgruntled real-life acquaintances – with their bedroom faces?

Like so many attempts at attention-seeking, this ultimately backfires by attracting the wrong kind of attention. Don’t these FauxHM models realise that no man wants to marry a girl who seems to be for sale?

I wish they would realise that there is infinitely more beauty (and class!) in simplicity and a smile…

If any of them are reading this – don’t be offended. I may be a complete ignoramus when it comes to ideas of attractiveness and your reasons for the posting the pictures. If so, please do comment and enlighten me.

If I’m right, then realise this: Those pictures look ridiculous. But you are not a ridiculous person – you’re an intelligent woman with so much more to offer than cleavage. Plus, you’re seriously confident – I wouldn’t strip down and arch myself like that if you paid me. You’re hot. People will notice this even with your clothes on. So stop being cheap about it and sharing yourself with everyone. Delete those pics, and post the real ones – the slightly red-faced from laughter and wearing your favourite old tracksuit ones – instead.

Coz you know what? The people who matter will still think you’re gorgeous. Even when you look like this:

Porn stars – I just don’t get it

5 Oct

I'd pick Sandra Bullock any damn day.

I saw my first proper porno the other day.

Knowing my staunch anti-porn stance, my dear boyfriend thought it amusing to bring along a lovely little film called Barely Legal 3. (Now before you think this is even dodgier than it sounds, take heart – the girl was definitely “legal”. (And obviously bare haha). What I’m trying to say is that the porn industry clearly cannot be bothered with the make-up wizards who make Hollywood 24 year olds look like 18 year olds. And thank goodness. Yuck.)

Anyway – curiousity overcame reluctance and in went the dvd. Cue 20 minutes of plotless bonking in every conceivable position and using every orifice including both nostrils. Just kidding. The girl did pee on the floor, though, and that’s just about as weird

My assumptions about these films had been confirmed – a multi-billion dollar industry of utter shit.

Now, it’s a known fact that men like the stuff. More controversial is the perspective of women. Cosmo would have us believe that some of us enjoy these movies more than a good Sandra Bullock romcom.

But I just don’t buy it.

As a woman, my only thoughts were ones of utter disgust and pity. Who is this woman? Why is she doing this? What must have happened to her to turn to this?

Porn stars, you see, were nothing but victims in my mind.

The reason was simple – I am yet to meet a woman who does not experience sex as something emotional. Those of us who are in committed relationships see it as a way to be closer to our men. Those of us who are single may be having sex anyway – but I can assure you that it is never without feeling.

Thus, to me, it seemed that the girls performing in such spectacles as Barely Legal and – I kid you not – It’s not fantastic, it’s cumtastic! must necessarily be victims. How, I wondered, could it be possible for a woman to sever from herself the very essence of sex?

My righteous bubble of indignation at the porn industry reserved a bit of a blow at SEXPO this weekend, though… Far from what I was expecting, the woman didn’t look like victims at all.

A friend put it so well: “Some women in the industry are victims…but some just like to have sex.”

Obviously, the victims must exist. But seems to me that they are mostly on our streets, and not our screens.

The SEXPO porn queens certainly seemed pretty darn comfortable. Obviously I was not expecting frightened eyes and cigarette burns, but the confident air of the women surprised me.

I can only hope that I will be blessed with selective memory loss and never have to relive the tattooed Michelle “Bombshell” McGee clearly enjoying her finger in her own vagina on stage ever again.
(As a side note – she’s the stripper who ruined Sandra Bullock’s marriage.)

Talk about disillusionment!

When you discover what female porn stars earn, it suddenly becomes a lot easier to understand how they can participate in an industry completely distorting the female psyche.

The average amateur, dear reader, earns around $3000 per scene. The professionals reportedly earn millions.

Not that this in itself proves that porn starts are nothing but sluts – for all we know, the cliché may be true and old Candii does in fact have a sick mother and epileptic dog to look after.

But more than likely, she just likes to have sex. And likes to spend her – pardon the pun – hard-earned money on hair dye and lipgloss.

I know we’re not supposed to, but I’m judging….

Thoughts? Comments? Please send ‘em along :).

Twitter: @caro_erasmus