Benefit of Living in the Country - Number 3 (Boo-ing Iron)

I was too young  to know anything about politics and procedures. Least of all the politics of those that did not affect me. It is only as I grew up, that I started taking an interest in it. Especially in the monarchy of the United Kingdom. From there I started doing my own reading up on affairs that took my interest.

13 October 1925 - 08 April 2013

Baroness Margaret Thatcher

On the 17^th of April in the year of 2013, we the people buried on of the most well known women ever to have lived. Baroness Margaret Thatcher. She served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1979 to 1990. The longest serving Prime Minister of the 20^th Century and to date the only female one. A soviet Journalist called her the “Iron Lady”. A nick name that became associated with her, due to her style of leadership and uncompromising politics.

She was a qualified chemist and lawyer. In 1959 she became a Member of Parliament and in 1975 she became Leader of the Opposition.  She was a ruthless cut throat Prime Minister and many of her policies are still referred to as Thachirisms.

There are mixed feelings about this remarkable woman from people all over the world. Even from the people of South Africa, due to her involvement in our apartheid years. But let us quickly look at a few facts.

House of Parliaments Statue

1.     The first female Prime Minister.

2.     The longest serving Prime Minister

3.     She was awarded a Presidential medal of Freedom in 1991 by the USA

4.    She was the first living British ex-Prime Minister to be honoured with a statue in the Houses of Parliament in 2007

5.     Thatcher returned to 10 Downing Street in late November 2009 for the unveiling of an official portrait by artist Richard Stone, an unusual honour for a living ex-Prime Minister.

6.     In July of 2011 Thatcher had been named the most competent British Prime Minister of the past 30 years

These are just a few of the things that places her at the top. All of this could surely not have happened if she wasn’t worth her weight in gold.

But funny enough my post today is not so much about the Baroness Thatcher as what it is about human nature.

People held mock funerals for her. they had fake coffins on which they wrote the most horrible things. At her funeral people boo-ed her, while some people

10 Downing Street Portrait

openly made jibes about her to the press. It has always been human nature to start the jokes when someone of importance passes into spirit. But these jokes are not the average jokes. They are down right mean and nasty.

On a different note, the Baroness had two children, Mark and Carol. Carol never married or had children, saying that she enjoys life as a single woman way too much to give it up. Mark got married and has two children, Michael and Amanda. This makes the Baroness a grandmother. A granny like all of us have. Well ok maybe not exactly like all of us have, but a granny none the less.

Thursday morning the 18^th of April, the tabloids were filled with images of these horrible “funerals” that were held for the Baroness. The fact that people openly boo-ed at her funeral has swept throughout the world and we as a people will always remember that. So what makes you think that her children and grandchildren wont remember it? Besides for being a politician and a pioneer and some would say tyrant, she was a mother and a grandmother. Why can that not be respected? Why did we have to make sure that the last memory that these people will have of their mother and grandmother is that of crowds boo-ing at her funeral?

I am not disputing whether or not she was a good Prime Minister. Despite what people might say, the evidence would say that she was the best one in the last 30 years.  My argument is about the fact that humans cannot even allow an 87 year old woman a peaceful funeral.

And I bet you that those pieces of shit, dregs of society, probably the types that come from Manchester and lives on the doll. Well lives is such a strong word. They get there doll, go to the pub and have there moneys worth in pints, forgetting about the one toothed teenage wife at home with their nine kids. Those are the kinds of people that commit such an atrocity.

Meeting Nelson Mandela

But I bet you when their Granny-Mommy (yes this means that due to inbreeding their mother is also their granny) dies one day and someone wants to boo at the………well at the piss up, they would be the first ones to create a scene about it and try knock someone with a bottle.

Understand that I am not even talking about respect for the dead. I am talking about having respect for the fact that some people are actually mourning for the passing of that person and that they deserve the right and the opportunity to mourn for their loved one in a respectful manner.

And then people wonder, why I don’t like people. Well this would be another great reason for me to live in the country. Then I wont have to deal with fucqed up people, that boo at funerals. Just Paul and I and our 2million cats. And the odd guest that we pre-approve. :)

Mwah!

23 Augustus

Johan was nog nooit in sy lewe so alleen soos wat hy vandag is nie. Dis asof die wêreld sy betekenis verloor het, en nou is hy net nog een van die gesiglose wesens wat op n automatiese wentelbaan deur sy lewe sal gaan soos iemand wat nie self ‘n rol speel nie. In sy 73 jaar op die aarde het hy nog nooit so koud gekry nie. Nie fiesies koud nie, maar die is ‘n innerlike koue, ‘n koue wat mens slegs ervaar wanneer daar nie meer iemand is om jou siel warm te vryf nie.

Hy was nog altyd n man wat ‘n lus gehad het vir die lewe. Hy het ‘n lied in sy hart gehad wat niemand sou kon stil maak nie, en toe gebeur vandag. 23 Augustus 2012. Sy selluler is eintlik taamlik stil en daar was nie te veel mense nie. Maar dan weer, wat het hy verwag? Soos mens ouer raak is dit mos asof jou mense vergeet jy leef. Hulle skeep jou al meer af en voor jy dit weet sit jy alleen saam tien ander mense wat jou ouderdom is op die 23ste Augustus. Niemand anders gee tog om nie. Johan verkies dit eintlik so. Hy sal eerder die oomblik deel met tien mense wat opreg is as ‘n honderd mense wat in elk geval nie omgee nie.

Hy het besluit dat hy nie vandag terug sal gaan na die meentehuis waar hulle bly nie. Of is dit nou “hulle gebly het nie”? Maar hy besluit om nie so daaraan te dink nie. Hy sal later daarheen terug keer. Vir nou kort hy om rondom mense te wees wat hy nie ken nie. Mense wat nie die herhinneringe en verlange in hom erger kan maak nie. So hier sit hy nou in ‘n koffie kroeg. Sommer so by die ‘bar’ en drink n beker swart boere troos. Snaaks, die troos wil nie werk nie en hy is al by sy tweede beker. Hy is hartseer. Dis die perfekte beskrywing. Dit voel asof sy hart hier diep binne sy borskas besig is om uit mekaar uit te skeur en daar is niks wat hy kan doen daaroor nie. Geen pil of pleister kan dit regmaak nie. Die hartseer is so oorweldigend dat hy homself nie eers kan kry om te huil nie. Dis nie dat hy nie wil huil nie. Hy gee nie om wat die mense dink nie, maar die trane wil nie, of kannie kom nie.

Die deur van die koffie kroeg ting-a-ling soos dit oop maak en n moderne blonde poppie stap in. Haar jean is so styf dit moes aangeverf gewees het. Haar hare vasgemaak in n halfhartige bolla en oor haar oorfone praat sy met iemand aan die ander kant van haar selluler. Sy kom sit langs Johan en hy kan hoor dat die ‘n liefdes gesprekkie is wat plaasvind. “Nee sit jy neer…….nee jy………okay kom ons doen dit saam” Dit herhinner Johan so aan sy eie lewe, maar net baie baie jare gelede. Sy sit die foon uit eindelik neer en sonder dat hy bedoel om dit hardop te sê, glip die woorde by sy mond uit

“Is mooi”

“Is jy nie bietjie oud om rond te kyk nie oupa?” val sy aan.

“Ek is jammer, ek bedoel die manier wat jy en jou kêrel praat, dis mooi. Laat my terug dink aan………” Johan kannie die woorde wat in sy keel vas sit uit wurg nie en hy staar net voorentoe. ‘n Enkele traan rol oor sy wang.

“Ag shame oupa! Is jy okay, kom ek stick jou vir n rondte. Waitress!! Twee vanilla Latté’s asseblief. No Skim, low fat, geen suiker.” Sy kyk na Johan se amper lëe koppie “Nee oupa, die lewe kannie so sleg wees dat jy swart koffie moet drink nie.”

“Dankie, en noem my sommer Johan.”

Voor sy haarself weer op ruk (oor hy kamtig flirt) sien sy die trou pant aan sy linker hand “Candice, aangenaam. Waar is ouma? Weet sy jy sit hier alleen in ‘n koffie kroeg en chat met jong girls?” Candice gee ‘n giggel en dadelike sien sy dat Johan net weer staar.

Hy weet hy is nie die beste geselskap op die stadium nie, maar ombeskof gaan hy ook nie wees nie.

Candice sien dadelike die treur in Johan en besluit dat hy nodig het om daaroor te praat.

“Shame Johan. Wanneer het dit gebeur?” sy vryf sy skouer.

Hy kon nog nooit verstaan hoe, as mens se hartseer is, dat jou skouer altyd gevryf word. So asof daar n onsigbare paneel op jou skouer sit wat die hart beter laat voel as dit gevryf word. Maar hy stop haar ook nie. Die geselsie, weet hy, is wat hy eintlik wil he, maar natuurlik nie sal erken nie.

“Vyf dae gelede. Begrafnis was vandag.” Hy bedoel nie om kort af te wees nie, maar die knop in sy keel en traan in sy oog wil hom nie toelaat om volle sinne te maak nie.

“Hoe lank was julle saam?” vra Candice verder. Hou hom aan die praat, is al wat sy dink. Laat hom daaroor praat en hy sal beter voel. Sy kan nie eens indink hoe erg dit moet wees op so ‘n oue ouderdom om jou vrou te verloor nie.

“Ons was nog kinders toe ontmoet het. 1956, so ek was 17.”

“Shit maar dis n lang tyd né? Ek wonder of ek en Michael dit so lank gaan hou, dis my kêrel.” Haar gesig kry nuwe lewe as sy die naam Michael se.

“Die lewe is anders vandag. Julle jong mense het nuwe uitdagings en nuwe dinge wat julle getrouheid toets. Ons het nie daai dinge gehad nie. Ons was vir 56 jaar saam en elke dag getrou aan mekaar. Ons het nie Internet en al die chat rooms gehad nie. Dit was maklik om lief te raak vir iemand en lief te bly. Dis so natuurlik soos asemhaal”

Die Latté’s word voor hulle neer gesit en Johan bly aan staar in die verte.  

“Dis so romanties. Ware liefde. Julle was seker so gelukkig.”

“Ja, ons het mekaar se lewens vol gemaak. Ons was alles vir mekaar. Selfs deur die moeilike tye het ons saam gestaan en dinge saam geveg. Maak nie saak wie wat gese het nie, ons was ‘n span. Wel tot en met 5 dae gelede, en nou sit ek hier, in ‘n koffie kroeg. Eensaam en alleen. Ek is te oud om te vergeet en aan te beweeg. Al wat nou nog voor my lê is die dood.”

“Ag nee, Jy kan mos nie sommer so net wil opgee nie.” Sy sit sommer reg op en los sy skouer. “Ek is seker daar is baie wat jy het om voor te lewe. Wat van julle kinders en die klein kinders?” Haar kyk aan hom is een wat diep binne in sy siel in kom en ‘n wond oop maak, ‘n wond wat hy gedink het nooit weer sal oop gaan nie.

“Ons het nie kinders nie. Kon nie.” Nader aan die waarheid is die feit dat hulle nie mag kinders gehad het nie.

“Ja dis nou ‘n jammerte, jy sou n awesome pa gewees het. Ek kan dit sommer sien. Jy is al klaar my nuwe hero, ek wil ook eendag so lank soos jy verlief wees op iemand. Dis regtig amazing. Ek neem jou sommer aan as my oupa.” Sy giggel weer en gee hom so effense stamp van die skouer.

“Ja dit sou lekker gewees om ‘n kind te he” Dan sou hy iets gehad het om voor te lewe. ‘n Kind sou hom aan die gang gehou het nou. Dit sou die swart leemte in hom vol maak. As dinge maar net anders was.

“Ek bet julle was n sexy couple. Wys my n foto toe. Laat ek sien hoe ware liefde vertoon wanneer dit so mooi uitgebeeld word.” Johan dra ‘n foto in sy beursie, soos meeste mense mos maar doen. Hy haal sy beursie uit en huiwer. Wil hy rerig nou dit doen. Wil hy rerig hier waar dinge nou net begin draag saam word weer herhinner word aan die prag gesig van sy verlore liefde.

Voor hy registreer gryp sy die beursie uit sy hand uit. Sy maak dit oop. Stil staar sy na die foto. Soos n vuurpyl spring sy op en gooi Johan se beursie na sy gesig. Dit bons teen sy borskas en val op die vloer.

“Jy sal in die Hel brand jou siek vark!” skreeu sy terwyl sy uit storm sonder om vir die Latté’s te betaal. Gelukkig het hy nog so paar rand in sy beursie.

Sonder om ontsteld te raak oor haar optrede buk hy af om sy beursie van die vloer af op te tel. Die beursie lê oop voor hom en die eerste ding wat hy sien is die foto van hom en David wat soen.

Hy kan dit nie keer nie. Die trane rol oor sy wange. Hy dink terug aan 56 jaar van liefde wat David langs hom gestaan het. Met n bewende hand haal hy ‘n honderd rand noot uit en sit dit net neer. Hy kan skaars sien deur sy trane. Mense begin na hom staar en kyk en hy besef dat hy tog wel omgee oor wat hulle dink. Sy liggaam krul vooroor soos wat hy huil maar hy moet by die koffie kroeg uit.

“Hoekom moes jy my los David?” huil hy by homself.

Ting-a-ling gaan die deur oop om hom uit te laat. Hy loop so vinnig as wat hy kan, maar die pad terug na die meentehuis moet hy stap op geheue want deur die trane kan hy niks sien nie. Soos hy loop praat hy met homself.

“Jy was my lewe, my alles. Hoe kon jy dit aan my doen? Hoe kon jy my alleen los? Ek mis jou elke minuut van elke uur”

En toe kom die slag. Remme wat skreeu. Toetters wat blaas en mense wat gil “Pasop!”

Vir n oomblik voel hy so lig soos n veer, maar amper dadelike daarna tref hy iets hard. Hy weet dit gaan seer wees.

“Johan,…….Johan” Hy hoor sy naam gefluister word. Sy ooglede gaan oop en David staan oor hom.

“Johan, kom nou, word wakker”

“Is…….is dit werklik jy David? Ek…..ek dog ek het jou verloor.” Trane van blydskap val saggies en stadig oor sy gesig

“Jy sal my nooit verloor nie Johan. Liefde, so sterk soos ons sin, kan nooit vir lank weg van mekaar gehou word nie. Ek het jou ook gemis. Ek konnie sonder jou aan gaan nie.” David soen hom saggies teen die bloed wond op die voorkop. Die oomblik toe hy sy lippe wegtrek verdwyn die wond.

“Ek verstaan nie” Johan probeer homself op stut op sy elmboë en besef dat hy nie seer is nie. Glad nie.

“Daar is niks om te verstaan nie my lief. Ons is weer saam, dis al wat saak maak.”

Dom Dronk

Toe ek op skool was, many moons ago (but who’s counting), het ek vreeslik jonk gelyk. Dan het ook nog die probleem dat ek eers aan die einde van die jaar verouder. Dit gepaart met die feit dat ek nie lief was vir die moontlikheid van in kak beland nie, het gemaak dat ek nie rerig probeer in sneak het by die clubs nie. Met die gevolg is, daar was baie house parties. Shame as Dawie se ouers se huis kon praat, was ek so diep in die kak dat dit unreal is. Amper elke tweede naweek n ander girl daar gehad. In die swembad, in die stort, op die pool tafel.......... Ai die goeie ou dae!

Die punt is, die eerste keer wat ek by n rowwe bar party was, was met my ex swaar se bachelors party. Dit was gehou by n moerse groot pub like club plek wat deur sy oom of iets besit was. Die plek, soos meeste pub like club plekke het so effe dodgy gelyk maar hier is ons nou en ons gaan party. My stief pa, op daai stdium, besluit dat ek kan maar daai aand drink, daar is nie worry nie hy sal betaal. Die ding is my vriend Quentin is ook saam en ons gaan mos nou die dam onder die eend se gat uit ruk. So vloei die drankies. Maar jy weet ciders en wyn kan man net so lank gelukkig hou, tot jy mos nou ‘n shootertjie of tien wil probeer. So gaan ek na die barman toe, wat ook die oom is en vra hom of hy shooters het. Hy se ja en haal ‘n bottel Archers Schnapps van die rak af.  Ek het al baie Archers gedrink so besluit dat dit nie n probleem sal wees nie. Hy gooi vir my en Quentin elk n dubbel shot………..O Jirre! Ek weet nou nog nie wat in daai vokken bottle was nie, maar dit was nie Archers nie. Dit was een of ander home brewed kak wat jou oop brand, van jou keel tot by jou poephol. Jy kan flamme geblaas het daarna. Maar dit doen die trick, want nie lank daarna nie is ek en Quentin albei op n heel ander meer happy vibe. Nou kan die wêreld vergaan en dit sal ok wees.

As Hitler nou by daai pub moes instap sal ek die man gesoen groet het terwyl ek se Shalom! Wies dan nou bang?

So gaan die aand aan en dinge raak net al lekkerder soos ons kuier. En soos man nou mar is as hy n drankie of tien in sy gat het, vergeet ek toe heeltemal van die bottel Archers wat alles oop maak. Ek en Quentin besluit dat mens kan net soveel wyn en ciders drink voor man mos nou dors raak vir n ou shootertjie. So vra ons die barman of hy shooters het, Hy haal n bottel Archers Schnapps van die rak af en ons dink, nee wat ons kan Archers drink. Hy gooi n dubbel shot vir elk  en soos dit ons mond dit tref, bring dit so effe iets terug van flame en oop gate. Dinge raak so effe dof maar gou gou is ons so reg soos wat ons moontlik kan wees en ons sit weer op die hoek van die bar en kuier verder.

Die kak is dat nou het ons al tegnies vier shooters in van een of ander Hillbilly home brew en die keer vang hy ons baie gou. Die wêreld raak mooier en mooier en alles is snaakser. Ons begin nou ook so bietjie met die mense mingle en kak praat want almal is dan mos nou sulke goeie mense hier by mooi plek waar ons vannaand kuier.Waar? Niks is dodge nie.

Maar dit was nie lank nie, toe is ons ook nou moeg van wyn en ciders en ons besluit dat ons wil uitvind of hulle dalk shooters verkoop. So vra ons die barman en hy haal n bottel Archers Schnapps van die rak af en ek ken Archers, het hom al baie gedrink so dit gaan nou nie ‘n probleem wees nie. Die barman haal dubbel shot glase uit en gooi vir ons. Die ding ruik so effe bekend maar ek kannie my finger daarop sit nie en toe ek hom sluk onthou van die flammende poephol, waar derms begin knoop. Ek voel so effe soos die butler op “dinner for one” en dit neem my ‘n oomblik om net weer my oe te kry dat hulle albei in een rigtin kan focus sonder dat ek so bietjie in my mond hoef te kots. Maar so oomblik later het ek my pose en die party gaan aan. Nou kuier Quentin al op die barcounter. Ek is op die stasie wat mens begin besef dat jy nou na is aan hoender hoeppel hoer toe dronk. So ek probeer nou eers pose hou. Maar dis nie lank nie en so paar glase later, toe lus ek mos nou vir ‘n ou shootertjie. Quentin se nee hy lus nie vir een nie want hey weet darem nou nie wat nou gebeur het nie, maar skielik voel hy baie kak. Is ook nou geworried dat hy die volgende oggend moet kerk toe gaan nog, want hy speel kitaar in die kerk koor. Nie meer nie, maar het op daai stadium. Ek is so bly dat ek nie hoef kerk toe te gaan nie, want ek is mos n heidin. Kom ons drink n shooter daarop. Die barman haal n bottel Archers af en ek weet ek kan Archers drink. N dubbel shot later weet ek nie meer wat oop gebrand is nie, waar  my derms is nie of wat my naam is nie. Die stripper kom uit, maar van haar kan ek nie veel sien nie, want dis asof my sig nou verander het. Ek voel soos n bytjie wat duisende klein prentjies sien. Nie een van hulle maak sien nie oor dit net a kaleidoscope is van kleure en vorms.

Dis daar wat ek skielik onthou het van al die Swampland Hillbilly Archers wat ek gehad het. Ek besluit toe daar, dat nou moet ek net mooi stil sit. Ek moet my mond net mooi toe hou want as ek nou gaan probeer praat, gaan dit eerstens klink soos n doof stomme van die Avril Elizabeth home en tweedens gaan die persoon met wie ek praat, dalk vrek van alcohol poisoning. En ek kannie met my dronk gat nog in die tronk ook loop sit nie. Onthou daai jare was ek vreeslik straight nog! So daar sit ek nou maar. Met Quentin kan ek praat want ons is albei ewe fucqed en op die stasie verstaan ons mekaar nog perfek. Ja dit klink seker soos 'n alien encounter vir die res, maar dis ok. Hy sal ook nie vrek nie want hy het net so baie soos ek gesuip. So ek is veilig in sy geselskap. Met 'n moerse gejuig is ons eventually die aand daar uit en af met al daai staal trappies, sonder om my vokken nek te breek. Maar dit was wel skielik baie vokken trappies hoor. Nou gaan ons vir Quentin af drop en dan drop my stief poe…., my by my suster se huis af, want sy is alleen daar, oor bruidegomgat by sy ma bly vir die aand.

Toe my suster die deur oopmaak kon sy sien. Hy nou weg! Ek le toe in haar seuntjie se recies kar bed. Sy kamer is langs die badkamer, wat ek kan voel ek binnekort moet gaan besoek. Soos ‘n slang syl ek van die bed af na die badkamer en daar aanbid ek toe by die altar van die porcelyn God Braka! Die ding is dat in my gelowige toestand wat ek daar half le en half kniel, gee ek my offerhande aan Braka en na elke offerhand het ek vir een of ander rede na my suster geroep en en gese “Sussie!! Jou toilet ryk lekker!!”

Ek weet tot vandag toe nog nie wat in daai Archers bottel was nie, maar apparently het dit my sussie se toilet laat lekker ruik!

Mwah!

Fucq the People

I made a comment on Sunday that evoked quite a few responses from people. In truth this comment was not made for any particular reason. I just made it because I could. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Thank you Riaan and Kevin.

I am a positive human being and nowhere did I intend for the comment to be negative, depressing, serious, or anything other than just a statement. Well for those of you that are out of the loop, I said:

“I would rather be hated for what I am, than be loved for what I am not.”

To me this statement first and foremost speaks of the truth of being truthful to who and what you are and not sacrificing that for anyone. The people’s mixed reactions got me thinking. It got me thinking about the “real” factor of people that we know.  How real are some people?

I have in all my years helped many people to try and discover who they are. Personally I feel that this is a mission that will never end. I am still learning things about myself. I am after all a constantly evolving human being. I also found that things that I wanted to try at some point faded out due to my changes in my life and new things replaced them. I try to flow with my life and accept the roads that I find myself on. Explore them. I don’t try to go looking for new roads. Then I might miss out on the one I am currently on. And what you want to explore and what you should or will are after all, very often, two very different things. You want me to prove that point to you. Ok well, you would like to win the Lotto won’t you, even if just to help someone else. Have you won it? ……….. Point made I believe.

I think that most people might not find it difficult to explore themselves. I meant that as non-sexual as what I possibly could, yet I know, some of you have fucqing dirty minds….rude!!

The difficult part, to most people I think, is to then live up to it. Like lets say you discover you are gay. Yes ok Cliché example but one where I actually know what the fucq I am talking about. I wasn’t always a cock sucker remember, I used to be quite the homophobe and ladies man. Yes you were right gay boys, its always the homophobes.

The Paths of Life

Alright back to the point. Thank you. The point is that many of us are afraid of embracing our true selves due to the stigma that society has placed on that true self. And that is a fact. I went around telling people that I was bisexual for such a long time. Then months later accepted that I was gay. Now years later I actually think we are all bisexual in any way. I just happen to be with a man at the present moment and hopefully for a very long time to come still. But you get my drift.

Lets use a more …………. everyday example that all of you can relate to. Its rather gross, even for me. Yes even for me, shock horror. Lets say that one day you wake up and you discover that you want to try both ends of a Golden Shower. Fucq that is a disgusting example. Why on the Goddesses green Earth would I choose that. But hang on, me having this reaction proves my point exactly. So lets say that we are best friends and you have now discovered that you like to pissed on………I actually can't even type that without turning a little green and feeling faint.  Now because you know my reaction to this abomination you will never tell me about it cuz you don’t want that reaction. You don’t want to feel like less of  a human being. Which is understandable. So for the rest of your life you hide this aspect of your personality from people for fear of being rejected by your loved ones, due to their perceptions.

Do you see how that is kind of fucqed up.

You know, if you had to tell me that you like to be pissed on, I would very likely pull a funny, disgusted face and think something in my head like WTF!!!! but I would never stop loving you as my friend. Your kinks are your own and as long as you don’t force it on me, I don’t actually care. I feel the same way about what all my different friends believe in. As long as you don’t make it my problem, I am not gonna make you feel fucqed up for what you believe in.

Miranda Hart

We have wondered so far now, I am going to try and put it all into one paragraph so we can all be on the same page. Yes sure I could have done that from the beginning but then it would not have been much of a blog, now would it and you would not have been able to laugh at some points as you did. So in fact you should thank me for dragging it out, you ungrateful bastard. Yes I did pick up this habit of talking to you as if you are in front of me. I can’t help it, I blame Miranda.

So the paragraph.

Explore who you are and then have the courage and strength to take you on the path that you are exploring and do it unashamedly. Screw what people might think of you, it only matters what you think of you and then keeping your integrity in tact. It is afterall your life, not theirs.

This brings me all the way back to the top and my opening phrase. Oh look we’ve come full circle. For those that can't remember, the line was

“I would rather be hated for what I am, than be loved for what I am not.”

I am aware of the fact that 90% of the population see me as a bit of an odd character. Yes that was nicely put, thank you. I had to brake it to myself gently, I also have feelings you know. I am aware that my sense of style and what I say and do, pisses people off or sometimes shocks them. I am aware that I use foul language and say words like cock and vagina and clitoris and fucq and I am aware that I very often just talk about things that others would rather not hear. But the point is. At least I have the balls, strength, bravery, courage, and integrity to be true to myself. I don’t hide who I am behind a label that society has decided will be appropriate. And if people want to gossip, then let them. There will always be those that wish to talk kak about me. Yes that means half the people in Kuilsriver. But you know what, it shows how fucqing boring their lives are.

As some of you may have noticed, I didn’t write this blog to get something of my chest really. No honestly I didn’t. I have written similar blogs to this before, but this time I wrote is specifically for a few people that I know that are in the beginning stages of self discovery and I hope that through all of my profanity, you can at least find that inkling of guidance or help that you needed, even if it was just that you needed to hear someone say that you can be whoever or whatever you want to be! My Mommy taught me from a very young age:

“Fucq the people, we are the people”

Mwah!!

30-something Updates

Good morning lovely people! I have been very quiet lately as I have undergone some serious changes in life. I think when you become 30 years young, you (without even knowing it) begin to re-evaluate your life. To go with this new approach to life I decided to change my hair completely. So gone are all of my lovely black locks  and I now don an Annie Lennox kind of hair style. Short and Blond….well blondish with orange patches. The bleach didn’t get all of it out and it will have to be cut out now, as my hair grows. Until I am left with only blond hair. As most of you must have seen on photo’s by now, I am afterall a natural blond.

See, the new hair!

In my twenties, well for about half of my twenties, I was very restricted in what I was allowed to do. I had a very tight leash around my neck. Then I got divorced and I was free. Even though I had fun, I focused more on getting the Tradition sorted. On getting classes done on making sure that the Development of NPT was a success. I had to do this. My ex took with her all of my original writings and destroyed what I had on my PC (yes she planted a virus on my PC). So I had to redo just about everything. That was the biggest reason for the name change of the Tradition. So for the next 5 years I slaved away to get things where they are today. Again I am not saying that I didn’t have fun. Of course I had fun times. There are a plethora (don’t you just love that word. Ple-tho-ra. I love it) of photo’s on the internet of me enjoying myself. (Plethora)

At the arrival of 30 you somehow start to care less about what people think of you. My dress sense is getting more and more bizarre. As if it wasn’t completely crazy to begin with. I speak my mind more often than what I used to and I seem to enjoy my own company more and more.

That being said though, I want to go to more parties, I want to go clubbing, I want to get back into the BDSM scene and possibly DJ again as well. Is this a desperate attempt to cling on to follies of youth? I don’t know to be honest. I do know that I am struggling to keep up with the 20-somethings. I can’t dance to 10 songs in a row any more. I kinda cut out at 6 and then I have to go outside for fresh air, a drink and a fag. I used to be able to party the entire night, not go to bed and be fine the entire next day. Now by 1am I miss my bed and my make-up shows it.

This Bubbha is mentioned later. Bare with!

In general, I prefer staying home, watching movies or playing board games with a nice home cooked meal or Hot Dogs. I don’t know what has come over me, but I just want to eat Hot Dogs. You can give it to me morning, noon and night and I will eat it. If Paul asks me what I want to eat then I respond with “Hot Dogs”. I don’t know why.

I have also cut out negative people out of life. The problem is I set the bar rather high. I think it is just that I've taken so much crap from so many people, for such a long time, that I just decided now that even if you constantly complain about a mild cough, then I don’t want to see you until you have been to a fucqing doctor to sort out the fucqing cough so that you have more to talk about when next I see you. I am selective with who I want in my house as I don’t want to be surrounded by negative energy. I want positivity around me. I want good looking boys (check) who doesn’t mind the odd snogg (not checked) or a randy three way shag (this is what I think heaven is. Paul, myself and a new good looking boy for us too choose from whenever we like) Don’t pretend to be disgusted. Just about all of you have threesome fantasies and half of you have done them, I am just bold enough to say it out loud. We all watched John Ritter in “Threes Company” and secretly envied him. Ooh I am really showing my age now.

I find that no matter how good looking a person is, when they are a young person, as in less than 23, nine out of ten they just annoy the shit out of me. Not all of them. It takes a special kind of young person to not annoy me. But these know it all, whiny, the world owes me, woe is me cuz of my shitty life types. I just want to rip their heads of and shit down their necks to give them reason to whine. Yes, for those of you that do follow the saga of Zeo’s life, that does indeed include young Mr. Winter and co. Maybe one day, we can only pray, they will either wake up, or the earth will just swallow them up.

Miranda and her Fruit Friends

In general I am more Psychotic than what I used to be, but being a 30-something I am enjoying it a lot more. Creating ways that I can be entertained by my crazy mind. I have this wonderful idea that I got from Miranda, to have fruit friends. But I don’t want them to go mouldy, so I decided that I am going to make them from plastic fruit. How absolutely kitsch! You have to love it! In the line of making things I also decided that our house is not……..gay enough. I mean if you watch “Birdcage” for example. You can see, that is a gay house.  At the Sexpo I saw this huge black cock, of course as a dildo. Yes when I say huge I mean like 40cm long and 15cm in girth. I can’t think that anyone could ever use that without loosing half of their intestines. It did however inspire me that I am going to make a huge cock sculpture for our coffee table. It’s going to be beautiful, right next to the Rose Quartz. People will walk in and see the huge Buddha head on the wall. Their eyes will catch the cock and the words will be something like “I love your big …..cock”. Will make me feel wonderful every time.:)

My daily pills cocktail seems to be getting bigger and bigger each month and to my utmost delight (can you hear the sarcasm) I have discovered that my body retains water as well. Oh one more pill. At least now I have somewhat of an excuse as to why my body vaguely resembles the shape of an old fashioned blimp. It is due to a build up of piss in system. Well isn’t that what water retention is?

Anyway that was all just to get you back up to speed with what has been happening.

Have a terrific Tuesday!

Mwah!

Fashion Trends

“A guy walks up to me and asks 'What's Punk?'. So I kick over a garbage can and say 'That's punk!'. So he kicks over the garbage can and says 'That's Punk?', and I say 'No, that's trend!'”                        -Billie Joe Armstrong-

For as long as what I can remember I have been fascinated by fashion. Maybe, before we continue, I should define it to you. I do not see fashion as the latest trends. Whatever you are currently wearing right now, is your personal fashion.

Understand also please that I have never followed main steam fashion. I have always been a little………I suppose the term would be weird or odd.

I have recently been asked by two people (one of whom is writing a piece on me for a blog) to define my ‘unique’ fashion sense. I have been asked if I am a Drag Queen. In today’s blog we are going to look at the fashion that is Zeo!!

As a child I wanted to be many things when I grow up one day and when in my final year of high school I settled on being a fashion designer. This never happened. I pursued a study in Paganism instead. I have however always remained true to my own very unique style. I soon after school entered the Goth community where my freedom to express myself grew bigger. You see in the Goth community you can pretty much wear what ever the fucq you want to. Seeing a boy in a skirt is not abnormal and does not mean he is gay at all. It simply means that he is comfortable wearing that at that time.

That was the most important lesson that the community taught me. Wear whatever you are comfortable in. It doesn’t matter if the shops label that skirt as a female item of clothing. If you are comfortable in it, wear it. Realize that the only label you are embracing by wearing what you love, is the label that has your name written on it. That is not a crime, but something to be commended on.

Since I was young I always had an issue that men’s clothing was extremely boring. I hated it. Jeans and T-Shirt, or shirt. And yes the designs on these clothing items might change but essentially you will as a man always wear a boring cut shirt with a pair of boring trousers. Women have so many choices though. I like choice and freedom. It started by me, after school, dressing up in my sisters clothes. She checked me on it once, but I denied it flat out. I was afraid to be labelled gay. I realize now that my love for her clothes had nothing to do with my sexuality, but it had everything to do with my need to express myself as a Purple polka dot box, with lime green stripes, in a world that only embraced brown boxes. In Metric I started giving my mother weird designs for shirts. She only made one. And I had it a long time, but eventually it was tossed out by my ex, cuz she didn’t like it.

Then I started matching clothes up that would never be matched by anyone and again, I didn’t care what the people thought of me. I have to admit, that in the beginning it was nerve racking. Everywhere I went people stared (that still hasn’t changed) and it freaked me out. A friend of mine, at that stage, one day told me that I must stop pretending that I don’t like the attention. I tried to explain to Dawie that I do not dress like this to get attention, I dress like this cuz this is me and to dress any other way would be to rob myself of my own Identity. It didn’t seem to sink in and I think he still thinks that I dress differently, just to get attention.

Today most of clothes are made by the company called Ritual Divine. Yes this company is owned by my fiancé Paul, but it is still his clothing label. When I speak of Paul now, I do not speak of him as my lover or fiancé but as my tailor.

Paul accepts anything that I want to wear. Once he told me he wont make a particular item cuz he thought it would really look crap on me. I begged and he gave in. He made it and after I fitted it, he had to admit that I made it work for me.

I never look at an item of clothing and think what will I look like in it. I look at it and think what can I do with it. 

For me the key is to be comfortable in what you wear. I go to so many costume parties where people dress up. I just dress with whatever I have in my cupboard, hehehehehehehehe. But halfway through the party people are changing into normal clothing. If you do that, then you should never wear that item to begin with. You should never have the need to change what you are wearing for something else. Yes sometimes you make bad judgement calls and a shirt is to tight or a hat too small and then you have to change, but as you get to learn what your personal fashion label is, you will learn to plan your outfits accordingly.

Like I have a new Wolf Beenie, made from fake furr and I am dying to wear it. Saturday I am going to a birthday braai that will be outside. This means that yes it might be cold enough to wear it, but do I really want it to smell of braai smoke? Think practically and whatever you wear should last the entire night.

Bob Mackie said the following about Cher “She could wear the most complicated piece I could make, and it would be like she is wearing a Jeans and T-Shirt”

Often I get compared to people like Cher and Lady Gaga. Yes I do see this as a HUGE compliment. But I don’t try to be like one of them or any other famous person for that matter.

Lastly, I personally think that I have become some sort of Fashion Icon. If that makes me full of myself and/or conceited, well that’s fine.  People see me in every day clothes that I wear to work and I promise you they cannot even believe that I own a pair of jeans. The secret is…….I don’t, hehehehehehe I wear Paul’s jeans.

So no I am not a drag Queen. I am not an attention seeker. I am not hoping to make an entrance or exit. I don’t actually want people staring and when they do I don’t really give a fucq about what they gossip about. I don’t watch his and hers labels and I don’t mind wearing anything. If you have a design that you wanna make for me, I will try it out.

The only thing I accomplish by dressing like this, I am more in-tune with who I am and living my truth!

Mwah!!

Ending a 12 Year Grudge

The Year was 2001. I was and still am, a huge Nicole Kidman fan. February of that year saw Tom Cruise filing for a divorce from the Lovely Aussie actress. There were and still are so many rumours going about, all talking about Tom being an apparent Homosexual. Whether or not this is truly the case or closet, only he will truly know. What we do know for a fact is that everyone that has claimed that he is gay has been sued by Toms lawyer. Anyway, that’s not the point of this blog. Just some food for thought.

Nicole admitted that she still loved Tom. But I, even though I loved Tom as the Vampire Lestat, was a far bigger Kidman fan than what I was a Cruise fan. Nicole and I had walked many years together already and I wasn’t about to just abandon her in her hour of pain and sorrow. I was going to see it through and help her where ever I could.

Now before I carry on, I have to explain something to you all. I am a Scorpio. Born on the 19^th of November. Not only am I a Scorpio, but I am about as Scorpio as what it gets. What this means is that yes I am passionate, yes I love to love and lust, yes I have drive and motivation and once I get going I am like a non stop steam roller to get to the end result, but …… I can also get angry like a Scorpio. And when it comes to holding a grudge……..oh boy, I can hold a grudge like it is no one’s business. Because I have a Virgo rising, I can hold a grudge with extreme precision. I can tell you exactly what you did to piss me off, and when you did it, to the time of day in the month and year. And of course, I can plot revenge.

So in the First Degree class we are talking about letting go and no longer holding on to grudges and hate. Things that might stop you from moving forward, you know. Me being the teacher and all that, I have to set an example. So I am publicly going to let go of the oldest grudge that I have. Now back to my story.

My friend Nicole Kidman

The day that Tom and Nicole separated,  I made a solemn vow to Nicole. I said to her:

“Nicole, I will never support that man again. I will never go to see any of his movies. I will not rent them either. I refuse for him to make even one South African Rand out of me. I will however carry on supporting you Nicole.”

She was so grateful and understanding and because back then I was still straight, she was all over me. I had to explain to her that we are just friends and that I cannot be a rebound for her. Luckily she understood that and when I was certain that she did, I had my way with her. It was a passionate night! One I will remember forever. Thank you Nicole…………Hehehehehehehehehe……..

Anyway. It is now twelve years later and I decided that maybe I should let go of this grudge. Maybe I should just accept Tom for the person that he is. Couch jumping and all. Look I wont be inviting him over or anything like that. My couches were expensive and I don’t have the means to just replace it if he jumps through one of them.

Oprah is all like: "Get the fucq off ma couch, crazy white boy"

But I can at least let go of the resentment and anger and bitterness I feel towards him.  Which will allow me to move on with my life as well. After all I didn’t hate him because he is a bad actor or anything like that. It was purely an act of loyalty towards a friend of mine. And she did the same for me. When my ex wife and I split up, Nicole was all like:

“Don’t worry my friend, I wont ever support her at all. I won’t have anything to do with her. She is dead to me”

Cuz that is what friends do for each other.

After twelve years Tom, I am finally letting go. You are free man and you are welcome to whatever fame comes your way. It is time for me to move on from this bitter grudge and carry on with live. Well that and there is a movie coming out with you in it and it really looks good. I am so gonna go see it. But it is only because I am the better man here. As I told the First Degree’s, sometimes someone just has to step up and be the Hero! Well that and I have my new grudge, Snow White aka Candy!! Slut!!

Have an awesome, forgiving Valentines day everyone!

Mwah!