An African Man

This poem was inspired by the blog and conversation that followed the blog of one of my students. We spoke about the richness of African legend and I told him the story of how I got into trouble with the census people for insisting to call myself an African. I was afterall born and raised on Africa, as part of HER, why then am I Caucasian or European? I am the African Man. 

An African Man

From the dark entrapments of HER soil,

I rise unto this world.

The dust swirl around my feet,

as the winds sweep the leaves

to follow in a whirlwind of birth

where I now, in the eye of the hurricane

stand tall and free

an African Man.

Although my skin tells the tale

Of Skyscrapers and Ossewa’s,

My hearts tells the sings the songs

Of the Hyena’s laughter,

While my blue eyes speak of

Union Jacks and the money market

Soul rumbles like a Lion,

reverberating through the forests,

for all my animal brothers and sisters to hear.

For I am an African Man

For too long has HER soil

been broken and torn by clash

of our indifferent heritage.

The time is here to show the world

that all of us have at some point or other

been nursed on the placenta

of HER primeval void.

But we have denied her

And set ourselves apart from,

while claiming always that we are not of her.

White as I my be,

I am an African Man.

No longer do I linger

on the promises of a world fulfilled

by machines and hatred.

No longer do I beg for knowledge

at the feet of man

who does not hear HER heartbeat.

No longer do I wish to understand

the magick of Europeans,

Lost in their books.

I am an African Man

My heart beats to rhythm of HER drum

and my every step is guided

by the Ancestors and the Buffalo.

 I learn from the tales

retold by the Zulu Shaman

and I feast on the nectar of HER breast

while embracing the magick

that moves not around me

but within my very being

For I am an African Man.

Body Beautiful?

I have stated many times that I really do not have a problem with making fun of myself. Last night I realized just again how funny I look. I don’t mean funny as in ha ha, but funny as in …………fucked up.

Firstly, I have enough body hair to redo Cher’s entire wig collection. Thankfully I do not have hair on my back, but hey 30 is coming so you never know which suprises Mother Nature can still throw at me. I have hobbits feet, as in hair. Not much on my chest but my arms and legs looks like the location shoot for the next Jungle Book movie.

My toes are long wormlike fucqing things that can dig holes on their own. I am sure with a little practise I will be able to use them as hands. I mean my longest toe is the length of my pinky finger. I don’t have small hands. Thin, yes, but not small.  My pinky is 6.6cm long that is about 2.6inches. That’s fucqing long.Thankfully they are not knick knack toes.....yet.

My leg! I told you!

I do have killer legs. That I will admit to, the are long and perfectly shaped. Well almost perfectly, since I picked up a few, but they still pretty good. Well also when I get rid of the rainforest on them and give them a little bit of vitamin sunlight. I can’t remember which fucqing vitamin that is. People they are white, like flour white. So maybe a little tan will be good.

I then recently figured out that I have Orangutan arms. You see I buy shirts and then they fit my wheel barrow waist perfectly, but they are too short on the arms. They are always too short on the arms. So I buy bigger shirts which makes me even fatter than what I already am and then at least the arms fit me. At least I have pretty good looking hands at the end of them, with nice nails.I used to do hand and nail moddeling.

My chest, bwhahahahahahahahaha the standing joke is that I will have my belly pierced the day that I can find my belly. My tits are almost te size of my baby sisters (which by the way will just get bigger as gravity slowly becomes my best friend with age) and my stomach could feed a small country for about a month. The weird thing is that Paul wears smaller shirts than what I do, but my trousers are smaller than his. How fucqing bizarre is that.

I have not worn a choker/collar in about 2 years as I cannot make it fit around my neck and thee extra chins that I have developed. Great in the winter but very hot in the summer.

On the face I have a huge fucking nose and ears. Chloe one day told me that I have nice ears, which was the weirdest compliment ever, but never the less it was nice. My fear is both of my ears and my nose is already on the large side. And those three facial…..structures? never stops growing. I know it might not sound like such a bad thing, but HAVE YOU SEEN MY GRANDFATHER?!! Ok he is kind of dead now, so if you see him it would be pretty cool, but my Grandfather (on my mothers side) had two satellite dishes for ears. And I don’t mean like the DSTV satellite, no fucq, I mean like those huge NASA shit that you get. Don’t get me started on the nose.

Tracey Sparks

I also am the proud owner of uni-brow. Fills my heart with joy to have this carpet just above my eyes, clogging up my fucqing third eye. Thank the Goddess for Tracey. Now Tracey is a neo-nazi sadist that I see once a month. She loves to inflict pain on people. But after a pull here and a pluck there, and after the boiling wax of course, I have perfect eyebrows. Sure it so fucqing sore that I find that for the next three days I am still clenching my ass but I am sure that, that keeps my ass nice and rounded. And I do have a nicely rounded firm ass. Not a huge bubble but that has a life of its own, but an in proportion round ass that is rather tight considering the rest of my body is like melted margarine.  But back to Tracey, thanx to this woman and her Goddess hands I have perfect eyebrows. It takes all of 10 minutes. Ten minutes of absolute pain. ‘n Geween en kners van tande, but then for a month my third eye can at least open up without getting hair in it. Please keep in mind that I have an eyebrow piercing and that I don’t take it out for this. She works around it and still she does it. Perfectly!! So I am thinking of going to her for a manicure cus I know she does that as well.  But we will see what happens.

And then my body is rounded off with a head full of blond hair. Yes that’s right I am blond. Not just blond, but platinum blond. God was feeling vey humerous the day i was made. I like to say that he broke the mould when I was made. So all in all I look like an albino Orangutan. If it wasn’t for hairdye, hairtrimmers, makeup, clothes and Tracey, I would have been locked up in the circus many years ago. Throw away the fucqing key. Then you get people who wants to go back to a simpler time. I say fucq it. In a simpler time I would have been killed at birth.

Mwah!! 

To get in contact with Tracey you can phone her on 0825593034, she really is the best at what she does!!

20 Something Trash

On Saturday past I went to my oldest friends birthday party. No I don’t mean that of all my friends she is the one that is physically the oldest one but rather the one I have known the longest. Naomi and I met each other when we were 6 years old and she can still remember what I wore the day that we met. She cant remember my fucqing birthday, every year, but she can remember I wore a t-shirt that said something to the effect of “I am the Boss”. On the 13^th she turned 30 and we  had her party Saturday past.

Me being me, arrived and took fucqing over. Saw Natali that was with us in school from the age of 6 and Paul, Natali and myself hung out together. We were asked to all bring our own camping chairs………..do I look like the type that owns a fucqing camping chair? So I went into the house and organized chairs for the three of us. Saw a few people that I apparently met before but could not remember. This time I do however remember Luette. Lekker kak aanjaag sussie daai. The two of us together is bad news.

Naomi had a black cardboard star on one of the walls that said ‘TRASH”. When the evening started there was apparently a trash can underneath it, but someone had moved it and the star was just stuck up on a wall, pointing out nothing underneath it. So I asked Naomi if I can have the star, she of course obliged. I also asked her for a safety pin. She had put two and two together and tried to tell me that I wasn’t going to...., but my look must have told her that she wont win this one and she told me where I could find one. 10 minutes later I had a huge star name tag that said ‘TRASH”. Luette was my “WHITE”, so together we were “WHITE TRASH” and we also behaved a little like it.

You see we were pretty well behaved up until the point that we discovered Allan.

Mel let me explain this, Allan is one of those guys that you wish had a dog with him so that you could scuzie him. In other words, for the rest of the people that has no idea what I just said to Mel, Allan is built like a Greek God. His arms can do things that should be preached against in Leviticus. Oh don’t go all “what about Paul” on me, he was just as badly over Allen. Yes we saw his abs, all 973 of them. How?, cuz you see we are trash and together we got him to show us his tattoos. On the side of his chest he has the Serenity prayer. Evil Queen that I am explained to him that I don’t know what that is and had a conversation with him about it, insisting that he must keep the top lifted while we chat about it so I can also read it. Mwhahahaha mwhahahahaha. I know the fucqing serenity prayer off by heart, but he didn’t know that. Mwhahahahahaha

Where we sat alone, the three of us, soon Luette and her hubby joined and before we knew it our small little circle just became bigger and the life of the party!! Liezel arrived late (another friend of ours) but considering Liezel is always two and a half hours late, she was actually half an hour early. Met her little girl Lillian for the first time, gorgeous little thing. But half way through the night my wine was done and I had already had some of Luette’s Vodka, when we offered to take Liezel home to put Lillian to bed and go pick up more wine. Woohoo!! Or so I thought.

It wasn’t the best wine there is, but it was wine and I am rather fond of vinegar so all things considered, it wasn’t that bad. Half a box later I also had a Brutal Fruit, which they taught me in Afrikaans is called a Slet Sappie. To my overseas readers a Slet Sappie translates to Hooker Juice. At this point Luette was trying to get Allan to look at the tortoise so that he can bend over and we can check him out and I almost broke my neck by lying backwards in the chair to see the merchandise. We also tried to take a vote to let Allan walk around without his top on, but he didn’t fall for that one.

In two months exactly it is my turn to embrace the adult life and leave behind me my 20something lifestyle. It’s a bit scary and intimidating and not so nice to know that the clock is moving forward and leading me to eye creams, wrinkle creams and botox, but hey lets just try to embrace it and try to look fabulous. If I cant do it looking fabulous then I will do it while being shitfaced, at least then I have an excuse.

Mwah!!

Tell it like it is

NB: Before we go into this blog I must just tell you that it is not meant for sensitive viewers. Foul language will be used and parental guidance is advised!!!

Last night we watched the ‘Roast of Roseanne’ on Comedy Central at our friends house, since we do not have a dish. I have always liked Roseanne or let me rephrase, I have always admired her ability to say just whatever the fucq she wants to. And for those of you that don’t know what a roast is, its when ten people get invited to basically climb into each others character but mostly into the character of the guest of honour, which in this case was Roseanne. But they are not sensitive to your feelings on this show. For example, Carrie Fisher, one of the guests, was told that she is the only woman in show business, who’s  action figure is worth more than what she is. They said to Jane Lynch that the reason that she is so thin is because all she eats is pussy. (their words, not mine) And poor Ellen Barken was ripped to shreds.

Roseanne Barr

After that we watched a piece of Trevor Noah where he also rips people to shreds. Although this time it was politicians. On the way home, all of this got me thinking. People that are celebrities, like Roseanne, or comedians, can say just about whatever the fucq they want to. Even though they are making fun of lets say………Djoo-lee-ass, we all laugh. We go home thinking that what we heard was so true, even though it was funny. I bet you Djoo-lee-ass doesn’t think its funny. But that doesn’t bother us because its not us that’s being made fun of.

I also realized that when Roseanne tells people how deeply they can go fucq themselves, and believe me she is not nice about it, people praise her for being an icon that always speaks her mind and for opening the door that changed the face of sitcom in America. Yet when I speak my mind and call someone a cunt then half the nation gets a stroke. “How dare he say these things?” Yet I find that there are always false people around that tends to suck up but behind my back I hear what they say, from other people. At least I don’t do that. I will say it to your face. I will look you in the eye and tell you that you are a fucqing waste of meat and not even the vultures will want to peck on your slimy ass when you decide to gift us all and just fucqing die. I don’t gossip about it and spread shitty rumours, I say it to your face, and somehow this makes me the bad guy.

Now no one has gossiped, cuz I know people like Gustha are gonna read this and she is gonna be all like “who said what, who must we fucq up”, so just relax, no one said anything. I am just having the need to bitch about the fact that how “comedians” can essentially say whatever the fucq they want to but I have to put a guard at my mouth. And you know that Roseanne wants to run for President of the United States. I am saying let her. I hope she wins, its better than that piece of shit Romney. At least if she is President, everyone will always know exactly what Americas stance is on any issue.  There will be no doubt.

So I am endeavoring to say more of what I feel without fearing that people will be offended. So fucq you if you are offended, afterall, you are only offended if what I say is true.

This does not mean that I am going to go out there and purposefully be a cunt and piss people off. Not at all. I am not out start a “witch-war” as some people might call it, so relax DL. I am just not gonna give a rats ass. How you take it up, well that’s your fucqing issue.

Ah and the question that everyone is asking now “Yea but can you handle it when it is thrown back at you?” Of course I can fucqing handle it. I have been handling it for years when pilgrims who decide that their whiney assed opinions are now part of some ancient fucqing wisdom, will talk the biggest load of bullshit about me to everyone that only has one brain cell.

No, not every blog is gonna be a rude piece of me telling people how fucqed up they are. Things will carry on as they always have, I am just saying that I am just gonna fucqing say it and the world must just take it like they have been taking Roseanne’s bullshit for the last 100 years. If it makes you feel better, think of me as a Pagan Comedian. Maybe that will make it easier to laugh. Who knows in how many ever years, people might also tell me that I open the door for Pagan leaders to actually admit that no matter how much you think our shit smells like Lavender, we are just fucqing human as well. Because people expect the leaders to be all angelic and serene and certain leaders like to play the part and pretend that they are so fucqink wonderful. Maybe just maybe I can show you all that as a Pagan leader, it is really ok to just be a fucqing human and enjoy life, like you preach for people to do.

Mwah!!

Benefit of Living in the Country - Number 2

We are watching a lot of movies lately that involves super heroes saving the planet from some or other impending doom. Then two mornings ago while driving, I got this message from one of my friends on bbm. David said: 

“So today we look at mixed emotions and what they mean. Your worst enemy falls from the 17^th floor onto your brand new Audi and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” 

Paul responded and said: “Trust your worst enemy to fuck up your new car.”

But then as we were driving Paul said that he is so happy that we live in South Africa and not in the Northern Hemisphere. He explained, saying that all the super heroe movies we have been watching plays off in the Northern Hemisphere somewhere and in an attempt to save the planet they fucq up everything along the way.  Does government cover the costs of you having to get a new car every month? Will your insurance cover it or is it one of those “This is an act of God” issues?

We just bought a new car. No please don’t congratulate us. We are more in debt now than what we have ever been and at this point only the steering wheel belongs to us, the rest still belongs to the bank. But It costs a fortune. I am now a nervous passenger because everytime another car gets a little too close I wanna freak out because they might scratch our Rasputin (Name of the car).  And fucq it was, no is, a lot of money. Now can you imagine you go to the bank one day, minding your own fucqing business, and when you get out your car is fucqed because some super heroe crushed it in an attempt to catch some villain with a cape. The insurance and bank and government just shrugs it off.What the holy hel do you do then. Who is gonna pay for this? Or are you left to pay the old car that you now longer have or remodled into a cigarette box, while paying for a new car as well?

And things like this happen all the time in the Northern Hemisphere, according to Hollywood. Lets take a look at some titles to prove this.

X-Men (just about all of them)

The Avengers

Independence  Day

The Day after Tomorrow

Armageddon

Cloverfield

Godzilla

Knowing

Escape from New York

I am Legend

The day the Earth Stood Still

Deep Impact

To name but a few. None of this shit ever happens here. But then I clicked that we had one movie, a whole ONE, regarding aliens, District 9. However that movie played off in the city of Johannesburg and had nothing to do with Cape Town. It also really had nothing to do with aliens and was more of a play on Xenophobia as well as old and new regimes, but the aliens looked like park town prawns that you get in Jozi in anyway. We are the Mother City in South Africa yet nothing ever happens here. Which is great. I don’t mind at all. I think that somehow the mountain protects us. 

Over in the Northern Hemisphere you have aliens and tidal waves. You have superheroes and evil villains, war terrorists, whom we also have but ours are part of the National Government. You have cops that fucq up your properties and you have celebrities that feel up massage boys. For Gods sake you have Joan Rivers and Steven Seagal!! All the bad shit happens to you.

We do however have Julias, hang on lets pronounce that correctly, Djooo-lee-ass. And he is fucqing bad, but he doesn’t destroy my car every week. So with all of this destruction happening around cities by people that claim to want to save everyone I got to think. I have never seen a Superheroe fight happening on a farm, where there is not much for them to fucq up.

This must then be the second advantage to living in the country.

Mwah

Sacred Grove Ceramic Studio

When I receive good service or I buy a product that is truly worth it, I do not mind sharing the information. I believe that the service that I received or the company from which I bought the item deserves every bit of good publicity. Over 10 000 people, roughly, read this blog, from all over the world, so a little word can go a long way!! So lets talk about the:

Sacred Grove Ceramic Studio

The Studio was founded by a lady named Karin Bleker. I have had the privileage of knowing Karin for a few years now and let me tell you a secret about her work, it just gets better and better and better.

The Ostara Statue

I have recently asked her to build a statue for me that would capture and embody the spirit of Ostara. She asked me if I had an idea on what it is that I wanted and I told her to go wild and let her imagination run with it. I can tell you, that is exactly what she did. I recently went to pick up the statue and I have to tell you that it is fucqing stunning. It is so perfect for Ostara! 

A Cross she made

This is not the first and only statue that I own that has been made by this clay Goddess. I have bought some and other people has bought me some of her statues. They adorn my house inside and out.

But it is not just the fact that she is creative that gets her work sold. It is the fact that she knows how to listen to you, to get you exactly what you want. If she isn’t sure about something she wil contact you and find out. It is her passion and she strives to get it as perfect as possible. If for some reason she cannot do it exactly she will also tell you why and then have alternative ideas as to what she can do instead.

When you arrive at the studio, and you will know when you reached it. The outside is adorned with statues and images of her creative hands. you are greeted by her four legged children almost even before you get to greet her. As you turn to the left you enter the workroom. 

A Witch on a Swing

Karin normally offers you something to drink and then the chatting starts. Believe me, you are never there for just a short little while when discussing what it is that you want. She makes sure she gets all she can from you in detail and then she will start.

But please don’t think that her creativity stops with statues. Oh no. She makes anything you can think of. Plates, cups, bowls, frames, jugs and the list goes on. She made Paul some Japanese Tea bowls as well as a chalice in the same fashion. Do not just take my word for it. Go visit her and see for yourself what this Clay Goddess is capable of.

You can contact Karin on 083 231 4634

Or view her studio on her face group at  https://www.facebook.com/groups/112949435498740/?ref=ts

A Rams Head Candle Holder

Benefit of Living in the Country - Number 1

Now I am sure we have all heard it and read it and seen the movies about it. But hou serious is this threat really? What would be the do’s and don’ts regarding a Zombie Apocalypse?

Firstly I believe that maybe we should not take it so literally. I think that every age created Zombies. It’s very easy if you think about it. All you have to do is to create a need for people. But it has to be a strong need, like Coca-Cola. There are millions and millions of Coca-Cola zombies in the world. The moment the need is there and they feel that they cannot live without it, WHAM!! You got the fucqers Zombified!

In our day and age the Zombie transition key, lies not in being bitten by some rotting corpse from a grave, but by that one social media network group. Be it Facebook or Mxit or 2go, what ever it is, as long as you can use it from you phone. Now I realize that everyone is, or rather most people, is guilty of using their phones. I am not talking about that. I am talking about those people that cannot live without their phone. They sit next to each other on a couch and instead of talking, they text each other. I know it’s fucqing ridiculous but it happens and I have seen it happen with my own eyes.  Especially with the fucqing kids of today. Its like they have lost all peoples skills.

{Ok lets just take a moment to explain the spelling of the word fucq. As you all know the word fuck means, Fornicating Under Consent of the King. My Coffee mug at home says” Queen of fucking everything” Due to this a lot of people are calling me Queen or Majesty or Your Grace, names like that. So one of my friends suggested the spelling of the word fucq, meaning Fornicating Under Consent of the Queen.  Ok back to our story.}

I recently also heard that there is a game out by that name, Zombie Apocalypse. Now I don’t know if the hype has been created by the game or the game has been created because of the hype, but just about everywhere I go people are talking about the possibility of a Zombie Apocalypse. Here is what I do know. I personally feel that the Zombie Apocalypse is about as likely to happen as the Rapture. Maybe the two are actually the same thing. It would make sense considering the whole Zombie Jesus thing, which the Bible clearly states. Jesus stood up from the dead and now the Churches are eating people’s brains in his name.

Be that as it may, I have watched a lot of Zombie movies and I have seen how people play games with Zombies in them and so I have picked up a few things.  So here are just a few things to look out for, should this bullshit ever happen.

1.     They can carry on going even if you rip off their limbs. As you can imagine this could slow you down a bit. We are constantly wishing for more arms, imagine we had less.

2.     Conversation is going to be out. Your vocabulary will stretch as far as words like uuuuuuugggghhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmmmmm, grrrrrrrrrrr oh and braaaiiiinnssss.

3.     Your intelligence, if you had any to begin with, is also going to be shot to shit. Luckily this is not a problem for a few people I know. As a matter of fact it might just be an improvement for some.

4.     Lastly, you look progressively worse every day. So make sure that on the day of the Apocalypse/Rapture you look your best, so even if you do go backward it wont be too bad. Again, for some of you this can only be an improvement.

I have also realized that there is a fucq load of cemeteries close to us. And one of the biggest ones in Cape Town is just up the road from us.

Which doesn’t give one to much time to flee or to many places to flee to.

However if you lived in the country on a property in the middel of nowhere and the Apocalypse/Rapture does happen and they have to bomb the entire city to get rid of the fucqing zombies, you will 1, never have been bitten because they cant get to you due to point 1. And 2, when the city is blown to shits you wont have to worry about starting your life over.

That is the first benefit of living in the country. Stay tuned for more benefits of living in the country

Mwah!