The Wild, Wild… Internet.

I need to address something serious that has been on my mind lately: My being an intersectional activist (of sorts) and the reactions that have arisen because of it.

I try to combat various issues including homophobia, racism, islamophobia, transphobia & misogyny. Usually if I see something on Facebook/Twitter/wherever that I know is problematic, I will comment (as one with a social conscience will tend to do) and I have received some backlash that I never, ever expected.

Some of my favourite insults directed at me include that I’m a “sand nigger”, that they wanted to defile “my book” (the Quran), that I deserve to be murdered for being a Muslim, that I support terrorism and some implication that I fornicate with goats because I look Middle Eastern – you gotta laugh, right? For the record, I’m an Atheist – a militant one at that, and for those of you who’re unaware, I’m South African – but evidently because I’m of Indian descent and have a beard in my profile picture, that means I’m an Iraqi Muslim or something – the kind of brilliant reasoning one can expect from some internet users.

My issue here lies with the lawless nature of the internet – people can say what they want to who they want, whenever they want with absolutely no consequences. You can log onto social media, call someone a moffie/faggot/kaffir/nigger/tranny/etc. all from the comfort of your own home and then log off and go watch TV or something while completely ruining someone else’s day, isn’t technology wonderful?

I hate the fact that some anonymous asshole can spew vitriol from behind a keyboard and get away with it and think they’re some kind of hero – and the worst part is that there are so many people who will “like” comments which are bigoted and derogatory so the person saying it doesn’t realise just how wrong what they’re promoting is.

Then those of us who speak out against ignorance get targeted and called “social justice warriors” and “feminazis” in an attempt to belittle our efforts and cause. Just FYI: trying to diminish our fight against bigotry doesn’t make you a person of strong moral fiber, it makes you look like a narrow-minded, knuckle-dragger who is terrified of progression of ideology.

In case you’re confused, I’m not writing this for myself – as anyone who knows me personally will attest – I don’t give two shits about what anyone says or thinks about me – never have and certainly never will (unless you’re Beyoncé. PLEASE LOVE ME LIKE I LOVE YOU QUEEN B!!!!! *sobs*). But the reality is that there are people in the world for whom such derogatory words have a great impact and I’m tired of people flinging them about as easily as they do.

To those of you who behave repugnantly on the internet because you know that it’s more than likely that you’ll never have to deal with the consequences of your actions: next time, think before you type. Sitting behind your computer, gleefully typing up derogatory comments does not make you cool, it does not make you macho, it does not make you edgy and it damn sure doesn’t make you a hero to the people – what it makes you is a coward because I guarantee majority of you would not say the things you do hiding behind the mask of anonymity if the people you were saying it to were standing in front of you.

To the rest of my “social justice warriors”, “white knights” and “feminazis”, keep fighting the good fight because even if you manage to educate ONE moronic bigot in your entire life, that is a victory.

Why The #FeesMustFall Movement Is A Pivotal Moment For South Africans

#FeesMustFall. You probably have seen posts with this hashtag over the past week or two if you’re South African – and maybe even if you aren’t. For those of you who are unaware, there has been unrest recently due to proposed fee increases at Universities across the country – and students were having none of it.

Students from across the country marched and staged peaceful protests to show that they were not going to stand for the proposed 10.5% fee increase. There initially was some concession, with those in power announcing that they would aim for a 6% increase instead – again students refused. They wanted a 0% increase and they were willing to fight for it. There was a small victory won when last Friday (23/10/15), President Jacob Zuma announced that there would indeed be a 0% fee increase in 2016.

Now that you have the gist of the story, I would like to focus on the reactions I have seen on social media during and following it. Over the past few weeks, I have seen varying opinions from numerous people. Thankfully, the majority has been fairly positive and supportive, however, there have been more than a few comments which leave much to be desired.

One of the more bothersome reactions that I have seen is the idea that we, as students, want everything handed to us – that we have some sense of entitlement. This notion is laughable at best and highly dismissive at worst. The fact of the matter is that students studying towards Degrees have to work hard to achieve them, and it’s not that we’re asking for Degrees and Diplomas to be handed out like candy on Halloween – we just want to have the opportunity to be at university and earn our Degrees – where is the sense of entitlement here? I don’t see it.

Perhaps the worst thing that has come from social media reactions is the fact that some people want to make this into an issue of race when that is not even a facet of the movement at all.

If you were to look at the students involved in the marches, protests and those who were showing solidarity online, you would quickly realise that there wasn’t a single race that was not represented – Black, White, Coloured, Indian, Asian, you name it and you would find them – so why then is it that it had to become a racial issue?

It’s because when people have no other way to disparage something, they will sink to using the lowest forms of attack. “Oh these black people keep using apartheid as an excuse. If they just worked harder they’d have the same opportunities as everyone else” – that is a fallacy. If you are ignorant (or pretend to be) about the inequalities that still exist to this day because of apartheid, you desperately need to educate yourself.

The fact of the matter is that these protests were not about race, political affiliations, gender or anything of the sort – students transcended all this and came together as one to make their voices heard and to make education – a basic human right – available to all.

Another thing that I take issue with is the number of affluent people who are critical of the #FeesMustFall movement. I’m just going to say it like it is: Rich people, you cannot identify with our struggle because frankly, you know nothing about struggle. You will not have to worry about whether you will be able to pay registration fees at the beginning of the year, or whether you will be excluded or not be able to write your exams due to unpaid fees, or know that when you’re done studying that you’ll have a mountain of student loans to pay off. You are not sympathetic because you have not walked in our shoes – you will never know what it is like.

It’s VERY easy for you to say “Oh these students just want everything for free!!!” when you are driving your R600 000 BMW, tweeting from your R15 000 iPhone and going home to an R18 million house in Constantia, because you are so detached from what the majority of us have to deal with daily. So in your case, maybe it’s best to… oh, I dunno, shut the fuck up?

People complain about crime, corruption and unemployment in South Africa but then want to decry the notion of free higher education for all. Do you realise that if we educate the masses, that this can only be beneficial? Educated people can find and create jobs, educated people do not have to resort to crime to ensure they can put a plate of food on the table, and perhaps most importantly can make intelligent, critical political decisions.

For everyone who is opposed, nonchalant or indifferent to the #FeesMustFall movement, remember that these students are not only fighting for themselves or for the rest of us who cannot be at protests/marches – they are fighting for the betterment and enrichment of South Africa as a whole. They are tackling fees, systematic racism, outsourcing, corruption and a host of other issues all to make OUR future a better one, for us and for generations to come. Like I have said in the past – it’s a revolution, let’s hope that looking back you won’t have to lie about which side of history you were on.

To my brothers and sisters who are leading and participating in this movement – I cannot begin to describe the pride I feel. They thought they could silence us, they thought we would be deceived like those before but you have shown that we will not take injustice lightly and we will not stand for it. They called us the lost generation but you have shown them the power we possess.

Even though some of us cannot be at protests and marches, know that no matter what, you have our absolute unwavering support.

A Luta Continua but we will not stop until the war is won.


The Hypocrisy Of The “Pious” (And Others)

To begin with, allow me to say that I am supremely tired of discussing this issue because it is seriously like beating the proverbial dead horse. However, I will continue to talk about this ad nauseum until I either keel over and die or people grow up and learn to not behave like animals – actually scratch that because I have an interesting point to raise about the human/animal comparison later. Moving on.

My issue lies with my aim to combat the ideologies of homophobia, racism and islamophobia – my aim because I know how difficult it can be for one to feel as though they are being discriminated against due to the prejudices and ignorance of others. (If you missed it, you can read my piece on islamophobia here). However, the very people I am trying to protect want to rob me and my people of our rights, and in some cases, our lives.

An example: Muslim people, you know how it is when people discriminate against you due to who you are – your faith is an indelible part of you and there are people who unjustly hate you for no reason other than ignorance. So why then, do some of you turn around and discriminate against people in the LGBT community? Don’t get me wrong, I’m well aware of the story of Lut and etc. – I actually do read and make an effort to educate myself about what I’m talking about, so don’t feel the need to inundate me with quotes or religious scripture supporting your hate (seriously don’t do that… no, like seriously stop it).

Religious people in general are an interesting bunch. You have the few open-minded ones who realise that we live in 2015 and that perhaps, their religious texts may be in need of a different interpretation to apply to modern times, then we have the others who say nope, things must remain as they were.

I read this on Facebook the other day, just to give you a clue how some people feel about my people: “All LGBT should be required to wear a mark, to let others know they are in the area. As they are carriers of diseases and demonic activity.” – do you remember who else was a fan of branding gay people (and murdering them)? Hitler. But who cares about that, gay lives don’t matter to some of you, right?

One of my favourite things some homophobic preachers/people say is that homosexuality is unnatural and that “not even animals would engage in such a filthy practice”. Then when you point out that 1500 species of animals engage in homosexual behaviour, they turn around and say “Oh well, we’re human beings, we shouldn’t be following the behaviour of animals” – sublime, it is just SO amusing to me.

Some black people are also hypocrites, in my opinion. Like with Muslims and islamophobia, black people are unjustly discriminated against due to the colour of their skin – a part of them which they do not nor have they ever had a choice in, yet you will find that some black people are homophobic – I’m too tired to point our parallels, kindly infer.

Sexual orientation is as much apart of a person as their skin colour, I can tell you that much because I have lived this truth. I have been bisexual since the day I was born and no one can dispute that because no one else is me. You will often see heterosexual people preaching their bullshit explaining how gay people came to be. Imagine a white person going to a black person and telling them what it is really like to be black (or vice versa) – makes no sense at all, does it? This is precisely what it’s like when straight people want to discuss the intricacies of LGBT life and explain it to us.

Please don’t misunderstand the purpose of this post, I am by no means telling you to not be a homophobe – I could literally not care any less about what you do or think about anything in this world because it’s not my business and it’s your constitutional right to be a moron – my problem arises when you use your voice to try and infringe upon my rights.

People will go on and on about their right to religious freedom and how they have a right to practise and worship as they choose and then decry gay marriage being legalised. In what world does this make sense? Is it only YOUR human rights that are worth discussion and consideration? You cannot demand equality, respect and tolerance for what suits you and then try to rob others of what is rightfully ours.

This is why I do not get those who say issues like racism/islamophobia and homophobia are not the same. How aren’t they the same? At the core, all of these things aim to oppress us and rob us of our essence as human beings – do not tell me they are not the same struggle.

Just a reminder: I do not live in a country where there is no separation of church & state nor do I live in a country under sharia law so I don’t need your religion to be thrust upon me if it’s being used as a vehicle or tool for your hatred. If you have decided to espouse hatred and ignorance then cool bananas, good for you, I unfortunately haven’t.

People just generally and genuinely need to mind their own business. Worship who you want to worship, love who you want to love, etc. but don’t make it anyone else’s problem and quit telling people what your god says – not all of us belong to a religion (or more specifically, your religion) so your laws do not apply to us. Thanks.

To you who have read this piece: I am not trying to make blanket statements, I am not referring to all religious people or all people of colour, I am referring to the few who fall into the categories of what I have spoken about.

If you are offended by this piece, however, then perhaps you are the one I am speaking about – consider that. If you are a homophobe/islamophobe/racist, I’m not asking you to change (though you really should), all I ask is that you try to educate yourself rather than living in a bubble, be tolerant of one another and try to form bonds over similarities rather than increase divisions based on differences because the world is already being torn apart by those who choose to focus on our differences – it is time to change that.

Love & Light. Blessed Be. – N


Muslims are evil, haven’t you heard?! They’re all apart of either the taliban or al qaeda or isis (no I will not capitalise those names because they don’t deserve it). All Muslims want to kill innocent people and if you’re not wary, you could very well be next!!!!!

This is the view that many people in the world have of Muslim people as a whole – a fallacy which needs to be addressed right now (my apologies to those of you who gleefully followed the link expecting this to be an anti-Muslim post, you have been misled, as I intended).

Currently, it seems as though the distrust and, in some cases, outright hatred of Muslim people is at an all-time high. Terrorist groups such as al qaeda, isis, the taliban, boko haram etc. paint a grim portrait of the Islamic community in the world’s view and it seems that some believe “Well hey, these guys are Muslim so like, obvs all Muslims are totes the same, right?”. To put it simply, no.

Allow me to tell you something that will blow your tiny mind: the media cannot always be trusted – I will wait while you pick your jaw up off the floor. Yes, it’s true, in amongst the commercials for beer and sex stuff (I don’t know, I usually just fast forward through ad breaks) there are shows and news broadcasts which aim to shape the views of their consumers in certain ways – and this, my easily misguided friend, is called “propaganda” (*cough* FOX news *cough*) – trust me on this, I’m currently working on my Masters in Media so I know a thing or two.

Here’s the thing, not everyone likes everyone else (shocking, I know), so there are those who choose to represent information in a particular way to suit their own agendas. Of course there are those who are objective and fair and choose to share information openly and allow people to draw their own conclusions based on said information, but those people don’t get nearly the amount of attention as the other bunch because the other bunch uses sensationalism to pander to people’s fears.

Generally they pander to the fear of “OMG THESE GUYS ARE GOING TO KILL YOU IF YOU DON’T HATE THEM AND STOP THEM!!!” – one needs only look at the way Muslims are discriminated against today due to the actions of the minority. A recent example is of a woman in the UK who was beaten by a group of other women while fetching her child from school – what was her crime? She was Muslim.

Can you pull yourself back for a moment and imagine that? Imagine if people thought that Hitler represented all white people and therefore, all white people MUST be like him? Or that Idi Amin represented all black people and therefore all black people MUST be like him? People are marginalised daily because of what terrorist organisations are doing and claiming that their actions are in the name of Islam – but it’s clearly not because most Muslims denounce these groups, yet people don’t realise that because they are too narrow-minded to think for themselves.

I am not saying that Muslims are perfect people (I will talk to y’all about y’alls homophobia later – see me in my office), but to reduce an entire group of people to the disgusting, vile stereotype that Muslim = terrorist is absolutely abhorrent and you should be ashamed if you think this way.

While we’re at it, I hate the term “Islamophobia” (and “homophobia” too) because “phobia” means that one is fearful of something. Islamophobes (and homophobes) are not afraid, they are just hateful people whose hatred is fueled by nothing more than pure and simple ignorance. Allow me to repeat that: I-G-N-O-R-A-N-C-E; and in this day and age, ignorance is simply inexcusable.

Some of you may be wondering “Wow, random African child, you sure do care a lot about Muslims, WHY?!” – I’ll tell you why. It’s because my mother is Muslim and so is her mother and, therefore, I have Muslim blood running through my veins, my neighbours are Muslim, many of my friends are Muslim, the boy I love is Muslim too, and so I refuse to stand idly by while these people are disparaged by people who choose to not see past their noses.

But y’know what? Even if none of the above was true, I would still try to combat the ridiculous ideologies of Islamophobia, and y’know why? Because I’m not an ignorant cunt who chooses to hate people because they worship a different god than I do, or because they love someone with the same genitalia as them or because their skin colour is a shade different to my own.

We’re all human beings and it’s time to stop focusing on all our differences because they are far outweighed by our similarities.

So, in conclusion, if you were one of the ignorant ones (who actually stuck around? Wow, I’m impressed! Three cheers for you), I hope that this piece has helped you to pull your head out your ass and see the light. If not, I pity you and your sad existence.

Assalamu Alaikum

*drops mic*

To The LGBT+ Community

To my beautiful lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, pansexual, queer, intersex and asexual family: I know.

I know how confusing it was when you thought that maybe you were different to everyone else and how terrifying it was when you realised that you were. I know that you didn’t want to be different because being different meant that you more likely than not would not be accepted.

I know what it feels like to be afraid to tell those you love most about what you are going through, for fear that they will reject you and you’ll lose everything you hold most dear in life.

I know what it feels like to have hateful people rob you of your God. They quote their scriptures word for word, line by line, explaining why God hates our sin. This is what they call our love, a “sin”. They believe our love is different to theirs because it does not fit into their pretty little boxes that we’re forced to live within – this is what they call a sin. They say that our love is the same as rape and murder and bestiality.

They will lecture you for hours on end using scriptures and their divine information (which they apparently got straight from God) about why you are a sinner, but they forget that their books also say that God alone can judge and to love your neighbour as you love yourself. God makes no mistakes – but not if you’re gay because you werent born that way and that’s wrong.

They will dehumanise you and demoralise who you are as a person using their God and their books as their weapon – and then have the audacity to turn around and tell you that God loves you and that you will be forgiven for your “sin” should you give up your evil ways, but we know in our hearts that our love is no less real and pure than theirs.

I know what it feels like to be treated as a second class citizen. People say that being LGBT is a choice. Of course it’s a choice! Who wouldn’t choose to be dehumanised on a daily basis? Who wouldn’t choose to be rejected by the ones they love? Who wouldn’t choose to be mocked, called names, be beaten and sometimes murdered because of who they love?

Women are violated in the most awful ways imaginable, men and boys are murdered because the hateful say their books tell them that our love means that we deserve to die. I have seen men gleefully talk about raping lesbian women and murdering gay men – it is great fun to them. Our lives are nothing to them. Our lives have no value in their eyes.

They will call gay men disgusting, vile names and taunt them, condemn them and beat them to a bloody pulp, then go home and masturbate to lesbian porn.

I know what it is like to not be a person but rather to be an object. LGBT people are not humans, we are tokens. We are objects to be hated, hated because of ignorance. People know of us but they do not know us. We are just things to them that exist in the world.

They say that suddenly gay is popular. They ask “Why is it all of a sudden there are so many gay people?” I’ll tell them why: Because they have erased our people from the annals of history. They have erased our struggles and our stories because according them we do not deserve our stories told. There have always been LGBT people in the world, and just because they refused to recognise us does not negate our existence.

I know how it feels when people treat the LGBT community as a joke. They treat our struggles as if they are not real issues. They brush it off and laugh about it. “Gay” is used as a synonym for “stupid”.

One needs only look at the recent controversy surrounding Caitlyn Jenner. Amid the overwhelming support and love, there are people making a mockery of her. “He’s confused” “A 65 year old man suddenly decides he wants to be a woman?” “He’s doing it for publicity” “I’m still calling HIM BRUCE” “That’s not a woman, that’s an IT”. Ignorance at its finest.

I know the all the nights you have cried yourself to sleep, begging God to make you “normal”. I know how deeply it hurts when people spew hate and vitriol at you, and that you carry that within yourself questioning whether maybe, just maybe they’re right. I know that you live in fear that the wrong people may find out about who you are and that harm may come to you – they don’t know how damaging their hatred can be.

But I know something else: I know that your struggles are more difficult than anyone could ever imagine, but that it makes you a stronger and braver person. I know the immense strength that it takes to be proud of who you are in a world where not everybody is willing to accept it. I know that your love is real and true and valid.

I know these things because I am you and you are me. You are never alone in this world because we are a family and family sticks together. Nobody knows how much it hurts and how hard it is, but we know. You think that nobody loves you and nobody supports you, but we do.

My beautiful LGBT+ family, there is nothing wrong with us, our love is not a sin no matter what any hateful bigot says. Never let their words fool you, God (Jesus/Allah/Vishnu/Isis/Flying Spaghetti Monster) loves unconditionally – only people are hateful.

Believe me when I say – we are worthy of every beautiful, amazing thing this world has to offer. Never let anyone tell you any different. xx

PS: Next time someone tells you you’re going to hell, tell them to go fuck themself.

Who Am I?

Ooh yeah, bet you guys weren’t expecting questions of an existential nature from the guy who was posting about aliens and super-powered people blowing other people’s butts off 2 years ago, were you?

That’s how life works, right? We learn and we grow and we better ourselves, or at least that’s what’s supposed to happen.

I’d like to think that human beings are designed to be constantly evolving (in a metaphorical sense, before anyone wants to lecture me about Creationism – a topic for another day, perhaps in about a million years in the future when humans have gills because we adapted because… y’know… evolution 😉 ).

I’d also like to think that I am not alone in having periodic existential crises, maybe because, in part, that makes me feel less alone *violin music begins to play in the background* *a single tear rolls down my cheek as I stare wistfully into the distance*

The reason for the title of this post is because I do feel that I am still searching for who I really am. Here’s what I know for sure so far: My name is Nikolai, I’m 22 years old, I am a proud South African, I’m a Master’s student, I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother, I’m a sinner, I’m a sain-No sorry, I’m thinking of Alanis Morisette.

I think as much as we like to define ourselves as this or that and fit ourselves into certain boxes, it’s really a lot harder than people make it seem.

Part of my anxiety about the issue is that I feel time is passing me by so fast. It seems like just yesterday I was sitting at home watching The Power Rangers and… scratch that, it actually was yesterday. Bad example.

Thing is, I don’t want to wake up someday and realise that 50 years have passed me by and I just wasted them because I was a lost soul searching or trying to fall in line with the expectations of others in the hope of somehow, some way finding some sort of deeper meaning.

I know I don’t want to be defined by the colour of my skin or the way I talk or how much I weigh, or what god I choose to worship (or not), or how much money I have in the bank, you get the point. So then I am once again left with the question: Who am I? Not so easy to answer when you strip away all the things you think define you as a person.

As for me, and as for right now, I don’t even have a semblance of an answer and I’m starting to think that maybe that’s okay. I mean, I doubt many people had themselves or their lives figured out at 22. I don’t have to have all the answers to life because I know of an omnipotent, omniscient being who is greater than me that does: Oprah.

Anyway, one day when I figure out the secrets of the Universe, you will be forced to accept me as your merciful god-king and bow before me, but until that glorious day arrives, I will continue to ask: Who Am I? Maybe someday I will have an answer.

I Think Therefore I Am, But I Am Not Forever.

“Holy Sonnet X” – John Donne

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and souls deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and
desperate men,

And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Death, ironically, the only surety in life.

Many fear it because we don’t know what awaits us on the other side – or if there even is an “other side” for that matter. Yes there are many with conflicting views; some say there is a Heaven and a Hell and you’ll be judged for your earthly actions and sent to either. Others believe that your soul will be recycled and sent back to Earth for a new life etc. etc.

I have recently come to a realisation – I am not okay with my own mortality. It’s all very well and good to be bold and say that one does not fear death, but I think that deep down, everyone is at least a little bit afraid, even if they won’t admit to it.

I fear the day that my loved ones will be taken from me. I lost my Aunt last year (2014) and it is still unbelievable to me. I often think of her in the present tense and then realisation, like a swift punch to the stomach, brings me back to reality. My grandfather passed away when I was 7 years old and to this day, I cannot think of him without getting emotional. Clearly I do not deal well with loss (a topic for another day).

I fear the day that I am taken from this world. I often wonder to myself “When I die, I wonder if people will miss me”. By the time I shuffle off this mortal coil, I want to know that I made some sort of mark on the world and in people’s lives – but how can I know?

Perhaps the scariest part of death is that it doesn’t keep a calendar. The uncertainty of when it will strike is what scares me to no end. Death comes like a thief in the night and robs us of our most precious possessions.

A quote by James Baldwin illustrates my point more eloquently:

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time.

This is all terribly morbid, isn’t it? But there is a reason I started this piece out with John Donne’s “Holy Sonnet X” aka “Death Be Not Proud”. We do not have the answers when it comes to death – nor do I think we will ever, but perhaps if we are able to change the way we think of it, it loses its power over us.

We can conquer death, maybe not in a literal sense, but in a more abstract one. If we remove the notion of “finality” from death, then it becomes another part of life.

I believe that we are not our physical bodies, but that once this vessel ceases to function, that our souls will continue on in our journey. I believe in a thereafter; that one day we will be reunited with the ones we love in a place called Paradise. So I echo the words of John Donne and say death be not proud because “One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Things That Need To Stop In 2K15… But Then Something Amazing Happened!

Welp, as usual, I’m late because… well I’m just so lazy, guys ☹. Happy New Year, nonetheless, homey dawgs! *throws up gang signs*

Seeing that I am the foremost authority on how to live life while being beautiful, intelligent, witty, gorgeous, flawless, smart, charming, hilarious and most importantly humble, I have devised a list of things that need to go away in 2015:

1. Being Shitty On Social Media

I’ve noticed a trend on websites like Facebook and Twitter where people think they have free reign to say anything they wish because they’re behind their keyboards, and that there is no consequences for their actions.

I have to admit that I have fallen into this trap many times in the past. It’s very easy to say something awful to someone who is just a picture and a name on a screen – but we often forget these are real people with real emotions and putting them down to make yourself feel better is just a shitty thing to do.

2. Being Shitty In Real Life

And then we have those people who are just nasty in reality for the heck of it. We all know those people who get joy from bringing others down. Don’t be that person, nobody likes that person. If you ever encounter such a person, don’t attempt to fight fire with fire – you just get more fire – instead show them kindness. It will truly baffle them.

3. Comparing Yourself To Others

Put your hand up if you’re guilty of this one… Okay now tell me if you put your hand up; I can’t see you. I am terribly guilty of this. Often you see these picture perfect people on TV or in magazines, hell, sometimes even in reality and you think “She’s so pretty, why can’t I look like that?”, “Look at his six pack, I wish I had a six pack like that”, “I hate my body, why cant my body look like hers”, “My stretch marks are absolutely hideous, I wish I had smooth skin like him” (Yup, men get stretch marks too and some of us hate it just as much as some ladies do).

You see, the problem with comparing yourself to other people is – you will never ever be them, no matter how hard you try. You need to learn to accept yourself as you are and to change the things you can’t accept.

Remember: You can only be the best version of you. Wait I think I stole that from Oprah.

4. Putting Yourself Down

Nobody likes to fail, simple as that. No one wakes up in the morning and thinks “Damn, I can’t wait to go and screw something up today lol!”. We cannot control everything that happens in life and because of that, yes, sometimes we will fail.

It does not mean we are bad people, it does not mean that we are stupid or worthless, or any of that bad stuff. What is simply means is that we are human. We all make mistakes and we should grow and learn from them, rather than beating ourselves up over them.

5. Bucket Hats

No. Please. Please go.

6. Posting Clickbait

You all know those links that pop up on Facebook and Twitter with titles like “Woman Was Being Eaten By A Bear… But Then Something Amazing Happened!”. No. We don’t care, we hope you get eaten by a bear too.

7. Complaining

We all just complain too much. I think if we appreciated the small things in life, we’d be much happier people. Hey, there’s pizza in the world, there’s bacon (omfg bacon) (ignore this if you are Muslim or Jewish), there are cute little puppies and sweet little babies. And the best part about babies is that you can give them back to their parents when you’re tired of them. Pure bliss! No more complaining in 2K15 (unless I do it because I’m totally justified).

8. Socks And Sandals

*screams horrifically for 12 years*

9. Neglecting Loved Ones

The sad truth of the matter is that the people we love will not be around forever. Often we forget that our time is limited so we postpone plans and put off spending time with those we care for most. “I guess I’ll see you another time”, well what if that time never comes? Life is but a fleeting moment, snatched away before we even know it.

So go and spend time with your friends and family because one day when your time on this mortal coil is over, you’re not going to lie on your deathbed and think “I’m so glad I spent my life working”.

10. Making Us Look At/Talk To Your Babies

tbh babies are super cute, except for when they’re just born. It makes me really uncomfortable when I have to meet a baby for the first time because they’re really ugly and what do you say to a baby? They don’t even try to add anything to the conversation. Oh googoo gaga? Well thanks for that amazing input, asshole.

Please don’t make me talk to your baby or have to look at it until it becomes cute, thanks.

11. Believing Everything We Read On The Internet

Anyone can spout any garbage they want on the internet. Some people take this as the absolute truth and never stop for a moment to question the validity of some of these claims. I’m here to tell you to believe none of it, except for what I say:

• No, there is no illuminati.
• There is no “gay agenda” and we are not trying to turn anyone gay. We are not the army, we don’t recruit.
• Yes, in real life, I actually look the way I do in my profile pictures.
• Dogs love you, cats tolerate you.
• Aliens are real.
• Money can buy you happiness.
• There is no 5-second rule. Don’t eat food off the floor, you pig.
• Mullets are out but perms are somehow still in? (Either that or the people I have seen didn’t get the memo)
• Moths are evil, don’t trust them around your children.
• Twerking will live forever. Don’t ever stop twerking.
• You have never seen me and Beyoncé in the same room at the same time. Think about that.

Here’s to an amazing 2K15!

My First Time

So I had my first ever interview last Wednesday (15/10/14), and this is the tale of how it went. (Bear with me, it’s a long one).

I heard about an internship that was available at a local paper called [name removed because Nikolai is scared of getting sued]. I emailed said paper and asked whether the internship was still available; I received an email back asking me to forward them my CV and so I did. After doing so, I got a phone call asking me to come in for – spoiler alert – an interview.

I was over the moon! After months of sending out CVs only to get no response, I had finally gotten an actual interview – hashtag blessed.

Fast forward to interview day: I turned up a half hour early to seem professional and so that I had time to mentally prepare myself. “You’ve got this”, I said, “No one can sell themself like you can… not like that… you know what I mean”, I said.

I then ran into a friend from varsity who was already an intern there. He told me what to expect as he’d gone through this before me. He also said as part of the interview, I’d have to write 15 pitches (which in and of itself is ridiculous). Anyway, I noticed it was 5 minutes passed the time my interview was meant to begin, so he offered to tell them I was waiting.

A short while later, the Editor of the paper came out to fetch me – let’s call her “Bethany Deville”. She put her hand out to shake mine and for some reason I had suddenly forgotten how to shake hands. I limply grasped her hand and attempted a handshake – I failed (“Shit, you win this round, Bethany”, I thought to myself). She then led me to the conference room where my interview would take place.

Along with her walked in a man, who I’m still not sure what he does really but I’m sure it’s something cool – let’s call him “Bob”, because I can’t think of anything that rhymes with his actual name.

So there I sat, looking at Bethany and Bob, Bethany and Bob looking at me – it was romantic really. I reminded myself “You can do this, tell them your strengths, tell them you once punched a shark – it’s plausible, they can’t prove that you didn’t”.

Then they started asking me questions and I soon realised I wasn’t prepared. Things like “How can we increase the number of readers? (Or something to that effect). “I don’t know, build a time-machine and travel back to when people actually read newspapers?”, I thought but realised I couldn’t say out loud.

Other questions expected me to produce stories out of thin air “Give me a Hard News story”, “Give me a Human Interest story”, “If you were interviewing someone who won R10 million, tell me 5 questions you would ask them” – the romance ended.

Ordinarily, it would be easy to answer these if maybe… I dunno, I was told what was expected of me beforehand – but I was told NOTHING about this interview and was suddenly asked to produce.

YOU, reading this, think of a hard news story and a human interest story RIGHT NOW, DO IT, DO IT RIGHT NOW. Can you do it? I doubt it. (If you can, you should totally send them your CV).

I was told to bring in pieces I had previously written – I took a portfolio of work I did when I FIRST did journalism in varsity (and knew nothing really), as well as work from my Honours Journalism class – where I was a much better writer and the Editor of my class newspaper (HELLO). They looked at the shitty work only and ignored my reference letter and Honours pieces altogether – that seems fair, right?

Anyway, after they were done asking me questions, I was asked to excuse them while they deliberated. I did, and I sat outside reciting my mantra: “You are a strong, ghettolicious woman who don’t need no man” (I never said it was related to the interview okay). Then, they called me back in.

I was told that they were rejecting me because they didn’t feel I was a Hard News journalist (or something, I zoned out because I missed breakfast and was thinking about a doughnut). I was told I need to work on my spelling and grammar (HOW VERY DARE YOU, SIR), but my absolute favourite line was “We experienced this before. We hired interns who we weren’t sure about and they proved us right” – Bob. Bob said this. To my face.

So I was being punished because other people didn’t cut it. That makes sense, I mean after all, all human beings are exactly the same so if the previous guys messed up, I obviously would too. Hey, Psychologists, you guys can all quit because Bob and Bethany figured out how humans work!

Silly me, I thought internships were meant to be learning experiences, Google thought so too: “Unlike conventional employment, internships have an emphasis on training, rather than employment itself”. But apparently, when applying for a Journalism internship, you need to be an experienced journalist. Who knew?

To Bethany and Bob’s credit, they did say that they may be able to publish some of my “creative writing” – they of course wouldn’t pay me, but it would help me build up my portfolio. Thanks, guys, when the bill collectors come knocking, I’ll show them my thick portfolio and they’ll tear those bills right up! Who needs money?! Not my portfolio! ☺

Anyway, I didn’t get the job and despite my best efforts to get ol’ Bethany and Bob to see the error of their ways, my attempts at contact have fallen on deaf ears. Apparently I’m not good enough to write film reviews and get stories off the internet to fill space in an already very skinny newspaper. Oh well.

In closing, I’d like to wish Bethany, Bob and the paper everything of the best. May you continue to sell your 12 000 copies in a city with a population of ±700 thousand people. You guys are awesome and amazing.

Weddings n Stuff

Holy guacamole! I haven’t posted one of these things in like, forevz. Sorry bout that! Anyway, I’m back and sexier than ever! Hehehe.

Sooo, being that we’re all strangers, I should do the normal thing that us internet folk do and share my life with you all: My cousin’s getting married tomorrow! Yes, quite exciting isn’t it?

Weddings are a joyous time in any family because you get to see all your relatives and get drunk… uh, I mean celebrate love and the joining of two souls into one and etc. Anywho, this is the first of two weddings I’ll be attending in the space of two months and it’s pretty cool because then I’ll be like, the only one on my father’s side of the family who’s not married and who’s destined to die alone (well, hopefully).

I personally don’t ever wanna get married because, let’s be real here, marriage is gross. I could never stand to be tied down to one person for the rest of my life. Not to pretend that the sun shines outta my butt either – I’m sure no one would be able to handle alllllll’a this jelly for the duration of their lives. I joke, of course. The reason no one could marry me is because no one would be able to handle the fact that I’m so much better than them. But in all seriousness, marriage is cool if that’s your vibe and if you’re not Kim Kardashian (Ooh burrrrrnnnn).

My only prospects for marriage currently is a giant bag of Supreme Cheese Doritos. Well, at least I know I’ll enjoy the wedding night.

Anyway, in closing, I came up with a super awesome joke for you all:

Holy matrimony? More like “Holy matriMONEY” because she’s going to take half your stuff when she leaves you! Am I right?! Am I right, guys?! … guys?

Uhhhh, stay in school and hugs not drugs. Okaybye guys 😐

Kelly Osbourne vs. Lady Gaga… and Me?

Hello my little love muffins! I know I’ve been neglecting you all and you’ve missed me terribly but I’ve just been so busy at University that I’ve forgotten to update you guys – I am gutted and will try my utmost to update more often. Anyway, I have a new story to share with you all so grab your popcorn and coke (the drink, you guys) and read on. Be warned, it’s a long one.

I’m sure many of you know who Lady Gaga is but, how many of you know who Kelly Osbourne is? Well, for those of you who don’t, Kelly O is daughter of famed “Black Sabbath” rocker Ozzy Osbourne and his wife, Sharon Osbourne. Kelly is on the panel of E! Entertainment’s show “Fashion Police”, whose job is to critique what celebrities wear on a weakly basis. Here’s where the drama between Gaga and Kelly started: A while back, on an episode of Fashion Police, Kelly said that Gaga was “disrespectful” for not walking the Grammys’ red carpet and also referred to her as a “butter face”; this clearly infuriated Lady Gaga’s “Little Monsters”.

They began to bombard Kelly with hateful comments, even going as far as to send her death threats and to say that they hoped that she would get raped, get AIDS and die. Were all these vile and hateful attacks on Kelly warranted? Certainly not.

Lady Gaga published an open letter addressing the situation to which Sharon, Kelly’s mother, responded with this. Things had been silent for a while, that is until Kelly was chosen to be on the cover of a recent issue of Cosmopolitan magazine. In it, Kelly was asked about her and Gaga’s “feud” and she responded by calling Gaga a “hypocrite”, amongst other things.

And here’s where I come in: Upon reading Kelly’s latest comments, I took it upon myself to be Lady Gaga’s great defender (roflol). I wasn’t angry, per se, I was just irritated at the way Kelly and Sharon kept bringing this up as if Lady Gaga had any control over what her fans were saying.

So I tweeted Kelly the following:
”I sympathised with you the first time around but really, grow up and get over it now. Stop milking this “feud” with Gaga. What do you expect when you talk shit about people’s idol? I’m not defending the vile comments made towards you at all, but you need to realise that there are consequences attached when your job is literally to trash people’s appearances. Furthermore, it’s not your first time at the rodeo. You act like it’s the first time people have attacked you. You’ve been famous for God knows how long, so you know full-well that hate comes with the territory. I really did feel bad for you, but you and Sharon constantly bringing up Gaga not defending you is getting real old real fast. I’m not saying that what ”monsters” say to you is acceptable by any means, but constantly playing the victim solves nothing. My dear, don’t misunderstand me, I love you and your mother dearly but it’s a bit much to see Gaga brought up constantly by you.

And to my utter surprise, Kelly actually responded to me:
“We get asked, we don’t bring up. This has been going on for almost 2 years. No one deserves this. I will always stick up for myself. In no way am I playing anything other then the card I was dealt!” and when I told her that it wasn’t fair that she makes it seem that Gaga can magically control her fans, she responded with: “Don’t be a self-proclaimed Mother if you don’t want to take responsibility for your children!

I personally think that it’s utterly ludicrous for one to think that any celebrity can brainwash/control their fans into following their every command, even if we’re talking about Lady Gaga’s cult-like followers, the “Little Monsters”. Another question that needs to be raised though is, what is celebrity culture doing to our society? Are we so invested in what goes on in the lives of people who don’t even know we exist that we’re willing to attack people so violently and vehemently if they speak a word against them? People nowadays are so deluded by the fact that celebrities are more accessible than ever, that they truly believe that they have a say in their lives, in my opinion at least.

Anyway, after it all, Kelly O told me that it was refreshing to talk to someone like me who could hold their own without being rude and sweetened the deal by following me. I returned the follow and told her we could be BFFs to which she shot me an “xoxox 😉”. So, all’s well that ends well?

The Land of Gods and Monsters.

Ah dreams, they can be so lovely. Lovely and also weird as shit. Take some time to reflect on your own dreams while you read this so you can introspect and also so that you don’t realise what a garbage post this is going to be.

I have a tendency of having either really grandiose dreams where I’m like, a super awesome hero or I’m macking on some gorgeous babe or really weird dreams where the strangest things can happen.

For example, one of the weird dreams that really stuck with me involved Selena Gomez, Justin Bieber, The Joker (Heath Ledger version), some random guy who was burning bodies and me having telekinetic powers. I’ll leave you to make the connection between all of these things for yourself, because you need to exercise your brains but also, because I’m too lazy to type it out.

Dreams can be pretty kickass because we get to do stuff in them that we can’t in reality. We can fly, we can be a worldwide superstar (which I’m going to be soon anyway… but I digress), we can literally do anything we wish… or can we? Unless you’re capable of lucid dreaming, your dreams are pretty much guaranteed to be a mass of just utter nonsense.

On the flip-side of dreams, we have nightmares. Nightmares are created by satan when you don’t eat your vegetables and hug your moms… haha! Just kidding! (But you should totally do both of those things because they’re important). According to The Business Insider (because apparently dreams fall under “Business” nowadays), common nightmares include: Being chased, having teeth fall out, being naked in public, drowning and seeing Rosie O’Donnell naked. Okay I made that last one up, but seriously… imagine that. Nightmares are the uncool, younger brother of dreams who hates the world and wants to make everyone as miserable as they are… hey wait, that’s also a description of me.

Anyway, dreams are weird but also cool but can also be scary and also, I don’t actually know what this post is about so bye.

World’s Best Protest… EVERRR!

Hello all my little lovely readers! I know I’ve been quiet but I’m going to make up for it with an awesome story about something that happened yesterday.

To give you all a little background, I’m doing my Honours in Media this year and it’s been pretty cool so far. That is until we found out that the exam for our research module would be a 4-hour long paper directly after we have a ton of work due. So upon learning this, my classmates and I devised an ingenious plan: We would protest the examination.

So we hatched our brilliant plan: We would all march to the course administrator’s office, lay down the law and ask… nay, DEMAND that the exam be cancelled! And yesterday, the plan was set in motion.

Our little ragtag superhero group of Stephanie, Zippy, Shivani, Tayla, Shweppes & myself all fired each other up and took the long walk to the course administrator’s office… and that’s where the plan pretty much fell apart.

As soon as we reached the door, we pushed Stephanie and Shweppes into the room to be our spokespeople and I ran to the back of the group, just in case any dookie was about to hit the fan. Then I noticed that everyone else in the group was going in, so I did too… just to present a united front.

So there we stood, the chosen 6 who were going to fight the good fight. We stood strong and proud; after all, it was all of us against one woman. We glared at her, a look of worry flashed across her face as she looked at us… and we all froze.

We all stood there in silence, hoping that one of the others would say something but no one did. That is until Stephanie, in her most confident and confrontational voice boomed: “Uhhh, we were just wondering about the exam… ?”. And then we stood there and listened to our options for the exam – none of which included not writing it.

When the administrator was done talking, we all reluctantly accepted our fate, turned around and left her office, feeling quite deflated. So in essence, we accomplished what we set out to do… minus the part where we totally didn’t.

You would think that with the propensity that us South Africans have for protest action, that we would have been able to swing the situation in our favour slightly better but, alas, it wasn’t so.

Oh well, at least I know that if there’s ever a time when my classmates and I need to band together to tackle a social injustice, we’ll be able to do it. We’ll fail miserably, but we’ll assemble so awesomely that we’d even put The Avengers to shame.

Remember: The next time you need a group of people to stand nervously behind you while you address someone, we’re available.

Take Some “Me” Time.

Despite the fact that people still consider me to be a heartless bastard, who would tell someone to kill themselves at the first chance I get, I actually am someone who’s quite compassionate and empathetic and all that mushy garbage.

Although I can be quite a terrible person, like any true Gemini, I have multiple faces. Some people call it “schizophrenia”, I call it “the spice of life”. Strangely enough though, over the past couple of months I have found myself playing counsellor to a lot of people. While I do enjoy helping them with their issues, mainly because I fucking love to gossip, sometimes it’s all a bit much.

Firstly, it’s hard to help people when you’re dealing with your own issues, but also when you try to help many people at once, it can be a bit overwhelming as you tend to carry their burdens with you. This is usually how most of us operate. We try to help others to such an extent that our own needs fall by the wayside… well I don’t do that but, y’know, it happens to helpful people all the time.

Anyway, I’ve decided that from now on I’m going to start focusing solely on myself (as if I wasn’t doing that all along). I’m going to go crazy and do adventurous things like… running! *gasp* (It’s funny because I’m fat).

Seriously though, the world is just so damn fast-paced and we’re all caught up in doing shit and making sure we reach deadlines and finishing what we need to and blah blah blah, that we just lose ourselves in it. We all just need to chill a little and do the things that we enjoy.

So I hope this post inspires you to take a little time off to go kick a ball with your kid, read a book, play a video, dance like a hoochie on a bar counter… oh sorry, that’s what I do for fun. Whatever it is, just take some “Me” time for yourself because remember: All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Man Flu No More!

This post is more for all my brethren in the house (holla!), for we have all had to battle the demon known as “man flu”. Yes ladies, this is a real thing and it is not to be taken lightly. Luckily for all you guys, I have compiled a list of my top tips that you can use to deal and ultimately beat the man flu.

So without any further ado, here are my top 10 tips to beating the man flu:

1. Move back in with your parents.
Be warned my brothers, the man flu will attack your body violently and relentlessly. During this time, it is advisable that you move back home and make your parents wait on you, hand and foot. It’s okay, they won’t mind because they’re old and have nothing better to do with their lives.

2. Demand foot rubs.
As a man, you are awarded certain powers by society. One of these powers allows you to beckon any woman to come hither and massage your feet. It’s a little known fact, but women love to serve men, especially when we demand it. Make sure they work on those corns and bunions.

3. Feel free to cry.
When you’re so close to death, you’re allowed to shed some tears. Just make sure that you do so in the manliest way possible. When dealing with the man flu, it is acceptable to cry anywhere from two to four hours straight.

4. Demand cuddles.
This is a little-known fact but, hugs have healing powers. Get as many cuddles as possible, but only from women because they’re not capable of getting man flu as they only suffer from mild strains of the common cold.

5. Educate women about the man flu.
It’s a well-known fact that women look down upon men when we’re sick because they’re heartless creatures who know not of our suffering. Seriously, what do they know about pain? All women have to deal with is menstruation and childbirth. Therefore, it is up to us to educate them about the perils of contracting this disease. They will appreciate your teachings and will be eager to serve you.

6. Avoid work/school at all costs.
When suffering from the man flu, you will suffer from debilitating pain. I warn you, do not even attempt to leave your bed because you might drop dead on the spot. Seriously, if you even think about work, you may very well have a stroke. It’s just not worth it.

7. Video games are your friends.
I know, I know! This isn’t something we enjoy doing at all, but playing video games can help you forget that fact that you are dying a slow and painful death. Trust me on this guys, even though playing on the old PlayStation 3 is pain in the ass, you need to do it for your greater good.

8. Call a priest.
Man flu can best be described as being akin to demon possession. If you are suffering from this disease, call up your local priest and ask him to perform an exorcism on you. If you begin to projectile vomit, speak in tongues and have Lucifer communicate through you, you can be sure that you have the man flu. Exorcism is your only hope.

9. Lament the world.
When you’re sick, everything in the world is awful. Pretty little butterflies, cute little puppies and adorable babies can all suck it. It’s only when you’re sick that you realise how much everything blows and you should voice your dissatisfaction with the world. It’s your right and you should exercise it.

10. Get spiritual
How’s your relationship with God? Is it good? Could it be better? Well, if you think you need to get closer to God then you’d better get on it. Chances are that if you contract the man flu, you’re going to be meeting him soon anyway, so you might as well get yourself right with him.

So there it is, my Top 10 tips on dealing with the man flu. Hopefully it can help you someday… or not. I don’t really care either way.

This Really Does Suck.

Ah, adulthood. The thing we spend the duration of our childhood longing for. We spent far too much time wishing we could be older than we were and then, when we actually made it to being adults, we realised that this shit really does suck.

I usually pride myself on being a shining example of maturity and other adult qualities that I can’t think of right now. However, I’m an almost-21 year old who can be as immature as they come. For example: I remember during my first year of varsity, I would skip my Psychology lectures every Wednesday afternoon, just so that I could make it home in time to watch the Power Rangers. It’s silly things like watching a TV show from my childhood that makes me feel nostalgic, but moreover, it makes me sad.

The fact of the matter is, I miss just being a kid sometimes. Children don’t have the responsibilities that we do. Their lives are theirs to lead; to have fun and be innocent, to learn, play and just have an amazing time. Children these days just don’t understand this though and it utterly breaks my heart that they try to grow up before their time.

To know that there are 14 year olds smoking, having sex and experimenting with drugs makes my heart very sore. I wish they just would realise what an amazing part of their lives they’re missing because they’re trying to act older than they are. Sadly though, this is the state of our world and there seems that nothing’s able to change it.

This all seems a bit morbid, but I’m sure you all know what I’m talking about. If not, watch a television program that you used to when you were a kid, listen to one of your favourite songs from 10 years ago or remember the games that you used to play with your friends. Feel that? Feel that little twinge of nostalgia? That’s what I’m talking about.

In closing, if you’re a kid and you’re reading this, I’d just like to say: What the hell are you doing on the internet?! Go outside and kick a ball or climb a tree or play hopscotch or something!!!

-End rant-

I’ll Give This Post A Title… Tomorrow.

“Procrastination is the thief of time” – I’m sure someone said this but I’m too lazy to Google who it was.

If you’ve read my last blogpost, you will know that I really stink at coming up with stuff to write about because my life is so super full with social activities such as going out with friends*, partying* and being awesome*
(*Sitting alone in the dark, in my underwear and crying).

Anyway, while trying to think of a topic for this blogpost, I had an epiphany! My brain was all like “Hey! You’re lazy, why don’t you write about that?!” and I was all like “HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN TALK?!”… but that’s a story for another day. So yeah, I guess this post is about my favourite pastime: Procrastination.

Are you guilty of procrastinating? Because I can procrastinate the shit out of any situation. Seriously, give me an assignment and tell me I have two months to do it in and see if I don’t leave it until the night before. (And to any of my lecturers who may be reading this, I’m TOTALLY joking, haha! … kind of).

Don’t get me wrong, I totally get that procrastination is a terrible attribute to have because it robs us of valuable time that we can never get back, but the way I see it is: Why do today what you can do tomorrow? No, no, that’s just awful. One shouldn’t leave things for a later time because we could literally drop dead at any moment and thus, never get to do it. Life’s fickle like that!

On the upside, if you die, you won’t have to do whatever it was you were supposed to. So, hey, maybe procrastination isn’t so bad after all because we could totally die before we have to get to the task at hand. NEAT!

In all seriousness though, I realise it’s not good to be a lazy procrastinator to the extent that I am and I am going to work on bettering myself and my work ethic… starting tomorrow.


Well, here we are, you guys. This is officially my 14th blogpost… OR IS IT?! I’m not trying to be dramatic, I’m just trying to say that this is more of an anti-blogpost blogpost. Right now, I’m sure you’re looking at your screen thinking “This kid is definitely high”. If you were, YOU’RE WRONG! I’m totally clean. Hugs not drugs, yo! *hits fist against chest* *throws up peace sign*

For those of you who don’t know, I am required to run this blog as part of my continuous assessment for my Honours Journalism class. For this, I’m supposed to have at least 3 blogposts a week, which was awesome… at first.

Anyone who knows me personally, knows that I never shut my gigantic pie-hole and so the first few blog topics came to me really easily. I knocked them out of the park like Babe Ruth hitting a homer… until about the 6th or 7th blogpost. Now if I realise that I need to update my blog, I just sit here looking at my phone like this.

Mostly I try to draw a topic from things I find humorous, interesting or even something I want to rant about, whereas my classmates often post serious, brilliant and thought-provoking blogs and I sit here thinking: “Wow, you guys have no idea how close I was to posting a blog about a potato”.

It’s interesting though, as my buddy Zippy said in her blogpost about Writer’s Block, that we live in a world that has such an amazing variety of things ranging from Space-Age technology to dogs who can use the toilet like a human and yet, I have no idea what to write about.

It doesn’t matter though because I’m sure my next blog topic will come to me fairly easily. Right? It has to, right?! Right guys?! … guys? Oh well, until something pops into my head, I will return to my default state of mind.

Oh No, I’m Fine.

Hello, my dear readers. I hope this post finds you all in good health because I most certainly am not. Yes, I sit here typing this as I take my last few breaths as my time on God’s green Earth draws to an end. You see, ladies and gentlemen, I have the flu.

What?! Don’t look at me like that; it’s actually a lot worse than it sounds. For example, the picture accompanying this post is not a drawing, it is in fact a picture taken of me this afternoon. Seriously, I turn into a little blonde white girl holding a cat when I’m sick. True story.

It’s said that at least 2 out of every 3 sufferers of the flu die within the first 24 hours of contracting this disease and uh, this is totally not a made-up statistic. You don’t need to Google this because I’m totally trustworthy! *puts both thumbs up and gives cheesy smile*

In all seriousness though, having the influenza isn’t all that fun. My body feels like it’s met the business-end of a baseball bat, I have a fever which makes me feel like I’m in the Sahara desert one moment and the frozen planes of the tundra the next, my nose can’t decide whether it enjoys being blocked or runny more but is having a grand old time switching between the two and to top it all off, my head is killing me. (Not literally, although I wish it was literal at this point.)

It’s been a long, tough road (over the course of today, at least) and despite my suffering with this fatal disease, I have been a real soldier and handled it like a mature adult. To prove how totally equipped I am to handle whatever life throws at me, here are some quotes from me, from my time alone:

•I’m going to die today.
•Why do you hate me, Jesus?!
•*sings Opera to self* Oh Lord, this fever is making me lose my mind.
•*sees sun coming out* GO AWAY, SUN! LEAVE ME TO DIE IN PEACE!!! *sniffles* *falls face-first into pillow* *weeps violently*

Uh, yeah… like a mature adult.

Anyway, despite the fact that I am now physically handicapped, I will face the world with vigour and optimism… starting tomorrow because right now I need to just curl up into a ball and die. Second on my list is to just sit here, looking into the darkness, wondering why bad things happen to good people.

In closing: If I am to meet my untimely demise due to my illness, I want you all to remember me as a lively, bubbly guy who always made people laugh and a guy who had a great, great butt. Seriously, it’s ridiculous how magnificent this thing is. I mean it, someone had better mention this fact in my eulogy because damn.

Lie? I Think Not!

People who know me personally would probably vouch for the fact that I’m sometimes not the nicest person to be around because I have a tendency to be kind of mean.

Here’s the crazy thing though: I don’t do it intentionally, it’s just that I prefer to be straightforward with what I say rather than sugar-coating things just to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. I believe that it’s better to be open and honest rather than to lie because really, what’s the point?

Now, because I usually am so straightforward, I get accused of being mean, rude, arrogant (although admittedly, I sometimes am) and my favourite, sarcastic. I know what you’re all thinking right now: “Nikolai? Sarcastic? Neverrr”.

Anyway, I just don’t understand why people go about their lives lying to other people in hopes of not hurting their feelings. I could maybe understand if it’s something that really requires the truth to be withheld but other than that, why?

I’m sure you’re judging me here, thinking that I’m being condescending or supercilious but the truth of the matter is that I’m not, I merely know for a fact that I’m just plain better than everyone else and they need to be informed thusly… just kidding… kind of.

I know those of you who happen to be nicer than I am (which is about 96% of the world’s population), probably think that I’m utterly ghastly but you should try to see my point here. I’m not saying that you have to go out of your way to be negative to someone, just don’t lie because there’s no point in it.

Like I said though, I don’t believe in being purposefully malicious towards another person merely for the sake of it because, that’s not how I roll. Yes, I may be a sarcastic, rude, condescending, supercilious asshole but I’m learning each day to be a better person and one day, I will enter the Miss Universe pageant and despite physically being a male, I will win because I’ll be totally altruistic and wish for world peace and stuff.

(Cue the cheesy inspirational music as I ride off into the sunset on Gertrude).

Ahhhh! Oh wait, No.

Being the easily scared type, I never was a fan of Horror movies. However, as I’ve grown, I’ve become slightly more adventurous and slowly but surely, I have begun to watch all the things that I never could before. In so doing, I have come to a realisation: Either I’m not as easily scared as I thought or Horror movies are just really shit.

For years, I have heard people talk about how terrifying films such as “The Ring”, “The Grudge”, “The Exorcism of Emily Rose”, “Paranormal Activity” and others are, yet when I watch them, I find myself more amused by the horrible acting and visual effects rather than shaking in my boots at the supposed horror I am meant to be witnessing.

I can’t explain it. Perhaps I’m too analytical when I watch such films or perhaps I’ve prepared myself to not be scared by knowing all the tricks Horror movies usually employ to elicit a fright from their viewing audiences.

If you’re one of those people who actually does get scared when watching Horror films, what is it about the film that scares you? I’d really like to know what’s different between you and I. Maybe I’m so scared of being scared that I’m unable to get scared? Wow, that is some deep stuff.

Anyway, I would genuinely like to watch a film that makes me sleep with the lights on! So I am reaching out to anyone who is reading this blog. If you think you know of a Horror movie that will make me wet myself (highly improbable though), feel free to leave a comment on this post or even shoot me a tweet over on my Twitter account @NikolaiJericho.

Any and all suggestions are welcome and if your movie suggestion actually manages to scare me, you will win a fabulous prize of… absolutely nothing! Congratulations in advance!


For as long as there have been instant messaging services, there have been those who are just too damn lazy to type out messages in full words because they’re big, stupid, idiotic, moronic imbeciles.

I personally have a deep, erotic, almost obscene love for the English language and I therefore consider it important for people to properly type out messages in full English words because why the hell not?! For me, it takes far longer to think about which letters to leave out when using “text speak” rather than actually just typing out the entire word.

Seriously, how do you even begin to comprehend what someone’s saying to you when they type things like “Hey, hw r u? Wht r u dng?”… Oh My God, I nearly literally felt braincells dying as I typed that. Anyway, the worst is when someone like me, a freakin’ awesome English ninja, is Instant Messaging with someone who refuses to type in full words.

You get your fair share of LOLs and the like, but the thing I hate with a burning passion is one single little letter… and this letter is ”K”. Is it really so hard to type “Okay”? Hell, even “ok” would suffice! But “k”? REALLY?! The worst is when I type out a long message only to receive “k” in return.

If you don’t believe that I hate receiving ”k” as a response, here are a few of my responses from when I’ve received this demonic letter:

(1) Please don’t respond with that, I hate it. Thanks.
(2) F*ck off!
(3) What the f*ck?! Seriously, don’t ever speak to me again.
(4) I swear to you, I will kill you and they will never find the body.

… uh, not that I would ever kill anyone because they’re stupid… maybe.

Anyway, perhaps I’m being too much of a snob by expecting people to type the way I do, but then again, perhaps not. On the other hand, mayb I shud loosn up nd typ lyk dis? Yeahhh and maybe the sun will freeze over and fall from the sky too.

OMG! Jesus?!

This is meant to be a lighthearted post and I hope you all take it as such. It’s not intended to be offensive or blasphemous in any capacity. Besides, if you’re a prude who can’t take a joke, I don’t want you reading my blog anyway.

First of all, Happy Easter!!! I hope you’ve all had an amazing weekend filled with lots of chocolate and other stuff that you’re not supposed to have but did anyway because, why the hell not?!

For those of you who don’t know why we Christians celebrate Easter, here’s a nutshell version of what went down all those years ago: Jesus Christ had 12 disciples, one of them (Judas) betrayed him and is the reason he was found and ultimately killed. Morbid, I know. Anyway, three days later, Jesus miraculously (because that’s kind of his thing) rose from the grave and thus, proved he was the son of God. Note: This may not be completely correct because I’m a bad Christian who doesn’t read the Bible, but I’m sure it’s vaguely accurate… maybe.

Anyway, I got to thinking, imagine what it would have been like if Jesus’ whole shtick wasn’t peace and love? What if he vowed that he would get his revenge on Judas for betraying him?

Allow me to set the scene: Jesus is being crucified. Judas watches on, feeling pretty chuffed with himself because, let’s face it, he’s a dick. Jesus looks down upon Judas and swears he will get his vengeance no matter what. Just indulge me here.

Judas has all but forgotten about Jesus’ promise to deliver a revenge-fuelled ass-whoopin’. He sits in front of his roaring fireplace, about to pour himself a glass of wine. As he pours the wine, it turns to water in his glass. Suddenly, the lights turn off and Judas hears a voice out of the darkness.

Voice: Alcohol isn’t good for you, old friend.

Judas: Who are you? Who’s there?!

Voice: It’s your worst nightmare!

Judas: Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold night?!

Voice: YES… wait, what? No, you fool!

(The lights turn on to reveal Jesus standing behind Judas).

Jesus: Hello Judas.

Judas: J-Jesus?! That’s not possible! You’re dead!

Jesus: Or so you thought! But remember, I’m the Son of God! So uh, I’m here to kick your ass for betraying me.

Judas: Uhmmm, that wasn’t me, I’m pretty sure it was like, Peter or something and…

Jesus: Cut the crap, Judas! I came here to chew gum and kick ass… and I’m all out of gum!

Judas: Oh, you wanna dance big man?! Well bring it on!

And then Jesus would go on to beat the tar out of Judas using cool Jesus-Martial-Arts and maybe a hadouken or two.

Seeing that I’m not really the “turn the other cheek” kind of person, I like my version better because I would have loved for Judas to have had his ass handed to him by Jesus. But alas, I guess that’s why I’m not God. Well, that and the fact that I’d probably use my power to like, get a giant bag of Doritos rather than solving world hunger or whatever.

Uh, okay bye.

It Really Does Get Better.

I’m sure those of you who actually bother to read this blog know that generally, I try to make my posts funny and entertaining. I will warn you now though, this will not be one of those posts. If you are, however, looking for a laugh, try 9GAG.

For those of you who stuck around, know that this post is kind of difficult for me because it hits close to home and I am going to share personal details about myself, so please bear with me.

I wasn’t planning on ever posting a blog of this nature, but I’ve noticed lately that more and more people have been pretty down in the dumps. If I was the old me, I would probably have thought “Why can’t they just grow up and get over whatever the hell is making them sad?”.

You see, ladies and gentlemen, the “old Nikolai” was a real asshole. I couldn’t care less about other people’s feelings or whatever they could have been dealing with in their lives because all that mattered was me. But the Universe has a funny way of teaching people lessons.

For anyone who knows me personally, they know that I’m a happy, funny and super talkative guy, who tries his utmost to be funny, even to the point of annoying those around him, but here’s where the personal stuff comes in: I’ve been dealing with depression for the better part of 5 months.

I am by no means looking for sympathy from any of you by divulging this information, I do so only so that you all know that I am speaking from a place of experience. Yes, I’ve been through it all: The overwhelming feeling that life has no purpose, constant suicidal thoughts and even self-harming. It’s been a dark road, but here I am.

Funnily enough, a quote from the film “Spud” stuck with me. The Guv speaks to Spud after his friend Gecko passes away and says: “You will deal with this in your own time and when you do, you will be the better man for it”.

And we will be better people, because having to deal with adversity makes one stronger. For those of you who still feel trapped by depression, know that it doesn’t last forever, even though it feels like it will. I know first-hand that it is a daily struggle to get out of bed and face the world, but it’s worth it.

Through all of this, I’ve come to realise a very important fact: Happiness is a choice. Whether you remain in the abyss or whether you scratch and claw your way out, depends solely on you. You don’t have to lose who you are because of depression, you can choose fight it and be greater for having dealt with it.

By no means am I trying to say that this can happen overnight, but what I am saying is that it can be accomplished. Dealing with depression can be a long journey but the destination will be beautiful.

I have to be a bit cliché here and say, it’s always darkest before the dawn. No great man has ever had a life that was smooth sailing but they were able to take their negative experiences and use them as metaphorical sandpaper to polish themselves and grow because of it.

As for me, I think I’ve done my fair share of growing over this period and I do feel as though I am a better person because of it. I know that if you’re dealing with depression, you’ll come out of this stronger than you were before. Metaphorical sandpaper, people, it’s a real thing!

We’ll get through it. Stay Strong. x

Me? Scared? NEVER.

Anyone who knows me personally can attest to the fact that I am a super-macho He-Man who will destroy anyone and anything is his path… at least, I wish I was. In reality, I am a giant who fears for his life if a moth happens to fly too closely to him. This, of course, is completely justified because moths are the spawn of satan sent to destroy mankind with their dusty wings of doom… but anyway.

Being the manly man that I am, the list of things that actually scare me is fairly short. This list includes, but is not limited to: Moths, ghosts, demons, the dark after watching something scary, Rosie O’Donnell in a bikini, geckos, hairy armpits, locusts, having to introduce myself to a group of people with the whole “My name is… ” shtick, insects in general, women who are PMSing and clowns.

Why do we fear the things we do, though? I couldn’t possibly explain to you why clowns scare me because I don’t really understand it myself and this is the case with most phobias. Often they’re irrational, meaning that there’s no good reason to fear what we do… except with me and this whole moth thing. They really are out to get us, you guys.

Luckily for myself and most people, we don’t come into contact with the things we fear very often. However, there are some people who have really outlandish fears and even some that are downright ridiculous, but these can really have a negative impact on their lives.

For example, “Anthropophobia” is basically the fear of people. The poor sufferers of this phobia are often reluctant to go out and socialise because of their fear, with extreme cases causing the sufferer to resort to only communicating via electronic devices such as computers and cellphones andOH MY GOD I’M ANTHROPOPHOBIC.

Oh no wait, that’s not true! I don’t go out and socialise because people are stupid.

Norman, Is That You?

I’m sure you guys are used to me talking about a certain topic and sharing my views, but this post is going to be a little different: I’m going to share something that happened on Friday afternoon at my university.

So, I was chillin’ like a villain (like all the cool kids do) with two of my friends, Stephanie and “Zippy”, when we were approached by some random guy who claimed to be looking for a friend of his. After we tried to point him in the right direction, he did what any person would do after asking directions from a group of complete strangers: He started a full-fledged conversation with us.

It started off with him asking us how long is appropriate to wait to tell someone you love them after you’ve started dating. We tried to answer him but he just kept speaking over us. I was beginning to get annoyed with him already.

Things took a turn for the weird when he turned to Stephanie, placed his hand on her shoulder and proclaimed: “I have an intuition about you!”. He then claimed he could tell us all about her merely from analysing her answers to a few questions he would pose to her (You can read Stephanie’s account of the event here).

As if this wasn’t weird enough, this guy then grabs Stephanie’s hand and claimed that he would read her palm and I’m just sitting there like “Did we just check into the Bates Motel?”. Anyway, while reading her palm, he spoke of her heartline, her headline and said her lifeline was very short and that she shouldn’t walk anywhere that afternoon (and I was sitting there thinking “Yeah, probably because you’re going to follow her and murder her, you weirdo”… but I digress).

I then looked at my palm to see what on Earth he was talking about and he proceeds to look over at me and go “Oh, you have a fat palm”. In my head, I was like “OH HAIL NAW! You did NOT just say that to me!!!” … I was ready to whoop a bitch’s ass, y’all. Luckily for him, calmer heads prevailed and I let him live.

After all this foolishness, he tried to tell me that my peace sign necklace was satanic and that people use the symbol to perform rituals to the dark lord, to which I responded: “Uh yeah, I think the people you know are doing their rituals wrong”. He clearly saw my growing level of annoyance and with a quick “Nice meeting you all”, he disappeared faster than he had appeared.

Look, I pride myself on being different, unconventional, out of the box, etc. but there’s a fine line between being unique and being a crazy-psycho-stalker-with-terrible-fashion-sense.

Let’s hope for all our sakes, he doesn’t read this blog, otherwise I might be saying “Adios” to the world sooner than I had anticipated.

Bonjour, Ciao and Aloha!

I don’t know how many of you have travelled extensively but if you have, I’m jealous and I hate you. The most exotic place I’ve ever been to is… Cape Town and seeing that I’m from South Africa, this is not greatly exciting (although I smaak Cape Town stukkend).

It’s got me thinking though, we’ve all got places we’d like to visit someday, right? I personally want to go to the United States so that I can live the American dream of eating deep fried butter (yes, this is an actual thing there) and of going down to the Jersey Shore for a little GTLH (Gym, Tanning, Laundry… Herpes). Seriously though, ask anybody and they’ll be sure to name a place in the world they’d love to see before they kick the bucket.

For my mom, it’d probably be Italy because according to her, she loves everything Italian and she was probably Italian in one of her past lives… or some such bullshit (I don’t know, I tend to tune her out mostly). Others might say “Oh, I’d love to visit France! Paris especially, it seems so romantic!” or perhaps “I’d like to go to Thailand, I heard it’s really beautiful!” (Translation: “I can’t find myself a wife so I have to go to Thailand to buy one”).

So here’s what I want to know: Why exactly do you want to visit the country you do? Is it because you spent hours Googling it? Have you heard awesome stories from family members or friends who’ve been there? Have you seen it on the TV box and thought “Hey, that doesn’t look too shit, maybe I should go there”? PERHAPS WE’LL NEVER KNOW! OOOOOOHHH… just kidding. I try to sound cool and deep sometimes… I seldom succeed.

At the end of the day, how much do you really know about other countries? For example, here’s what I know about France: Eiffel Tower, wine, cheese, frog legs, bread, rude people, hairy women. Crude, ignorant generalisation? Yes. Could I Google it to learn more? Perhaps. Will I? Probably not.

Despite this, I still want to travel the world so that I too can be one of those pretentious, bragadocious people who go on and on about where they’ve been to in the world because let’s be serious, why the hell else does anyone travel? Obviously it’s so that they can rub it in other people’s big stupid faces.

Anyway, truth be told, I completely forgot where this post was supposed to go so I’ll just end it here.

PS: If I offended anyone… too bad.

Porque, Hollywood? PORQUEEEEE?!

Call me old fashioned, but I grew up in a time where the only thing vampires wanted to suck was your blood. But, as it has a tendency to do, Hollywood has taken a beautiful thing like ravenous, blood-thirsty, demon-bat-from-the-underworld-things and made them, well… suck. (It’s a pun! Teehee.)

Remember those vampire dudes from “The Lost Boys”? Or what about the guys Buffy used to slay? What happened to the vampires that used to give people nightmares and make us wet the bed? … err, not that I ever did that. Heck, even that OCD Count from Sesame Street was scarier than what passes for a vampire these days.

And who do we have to thank for these sexy, sexy vampires? One special woman who goes by the name of “Stephanie Meyer”. Yes, while she may not have started the whole Vampire-Romance genre, she certainly is the reason why millions of pubescent girls secretly pray every night that some anaemic weirdo will watch them while they sleep.

Of course I’m referring to the joke known as “Twilight”. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this franchise, you should fall to your knees and thank the Heavens above that you have been spared… Just kidding… No, but I’m really not.

The story follows some emo chick (Bella), who falls in love with a “vampire” (Edward) but who’s also hot for a “werewolf” (Jacob) and how she’s emotionally torn between the two (a.k.a. she wants to bang them both). On top of this garbage storyline, this mofo Edward has the audacity to not die when exposed to sunlight, no, what does he do? HE SPARKLES! I will tolerate a lot of things in life but a sparkling vampire is not one of them, damnit! … but I digress.

Anyway, over the course of about 4 films (4 films too many), Bella realises that she loves Edward and gets married to him but Jacob goes batshit crazy, crashes the wedding and eats the fuck out of both of them… No, not really, but that would have been pretty awesome.

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m choosing now to complain about Twilight, seeing that it’s already ended (thank the Lord), but what reminded me of it is the fact that there’s a film set to debut about a girl who falls in love with a zombie. Don’t even get me started on that. At least she found a guy who loves her for her brain.

The point I’m trying to make is: WTF?! Young girls should not want to date vampires and werewolves, they should want to be violently brutalised and eaten by them… oh no wait, that’s what I want to happen to them.

Is it too late to call Buffy or Blade?

Why Wasn’t I Born A Mutant?!


If you were anything like me growing up, you probably were an avid watcher of shows like The Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers, X-Men, Spiderman and a whole host of other superhero programs that filled your head with a bunch of crap but also, made you feel pretty awesome. Also, if you were like me, you spent many hours attempting to move objects solely with the power of your mind only to fail and then curl yourself into a ball and weep violently because God didn’t love you enough to bless you with telekinesis… err, not that I ever did that.

So I got to thinking, how different would the world be if people actually had superpowers like the ones we see on TV or in the movies? For the most part, it would be pretty kickass but on the other hand, it would probably suck donkey balls.

Imagine you’re walking down the street one day and suddenly somebody grabs you from behind and demands all your money. You, being the badass that you are, manage to get free and run away. Suddenly, the dude throws a lightning bolt at you and it completely blows your ass off. I don’t know about you, but I for one like and need my ass. Crime is bad enough as it is; we don’t need freakin’ super-criminals who could go around blowing people’s asses off. Can you imagine a world with no asses?! That is a world I don’t want to live in.

On the other hand, if responsible people were given superpowers, that could be totally rad. Like, imagine being able to teleport and see the world in an instant? Or fly and feel as free as a bird? Or have X-Ray vision and see hot people naked? Err… I mean… huh? I would never do that.

All in all, I think the big guy upstairs knew what he was doing when he made us all “normal”. I guess having a select group of men with the power to do whatever they wanted, with no consequences at all would be a bit unfair to the rest of us, but we can rest soundly knowing that that will never ever happen… unless you work in government.

I for one, am fairly happy living my life without any superpowers, but on a totally unrelated note: Does anyone know where I can find a radioactive spider or some gamma radiation? I’m, uh… asking for a friend.

Aliens, or as I like to call them, “Extraterrestrial Homies”.


So, this has been a topic of fascination for me for many years as I have always loved looking at the sky, stargazing, pondering the facts of life and just being lazy in general.

Whether or not there could be life on other planets is something that has been greatly debated over the course of history and I’d just like to take this opportunity to tell you that if you think that we humans are alone in this sexy little Universe we call home, then you’re wrong… and you’re probably ugly.

Logically, if we take into account the astronomical size of the universe and realise that the Earth is comparatively about the size of a speck of dust, we would surely be ridiculous, ignorant and just full-of-ourselves dickheads to think there possibly couldn’t be life elsewhere.

I for one, love the idea that there could be aliens living amongst us or that there are little green men floating about somewhere out there who could literally obliterate us at any given second because let’s face it, human beings are awful, idiotic creatures and we deserve to be wiped out… violently. Also, how badass would it be if the Men In Black were real and were actually kicking alien booty somewhere out there? Too badass, is the answer.

As for all of you who don’t believe in extraterrestrial life and who are looking down your noses at me right now, you’re all going to be sooo jealous when I’m macking on some gorgeous alien babe who has like, four boobs and stuff. Like, OMG SO JEALOUS.

In closing, if there are any aliens reading this, I’d just like to say: PLEASE. ABDUCT. ME. I WILL LITERALLY LET YOU DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO ME! … but no butt-probing stuff because that’s just weird.

My first blogpost.


Willkommen, bienvenue and welcome to Cabaret! … no not really. But hey, if you’re between the ages of 50 to 80 and an Art/Musical snob, that probably got you a little excited. You’re welcome.

So, you’re all probably wondering why little old me has finally decided to get a blog to air all my amazing points of view and if you must know, it’s because we’re being forced to… *ahem* encouraged to, by our Journalism lecturers because the internet and blogging is “the way of the future” for journalism… or something. (I don’t know, they had these cool spinny chairs in the room we were in and I was too busy spinning around and pretending to be a movie villain to really pay attention… but I digress).

So here we are, my little lovelies. I can tell you from now: This blog will probably suck but hey, it’ll be my opinions and if you don’t like it then you’re wrong and I hate you.

I have no idea where this blog is going to go in future but it will most likely be a shmorgusboard of topics, thoughts, ideas, rants, double entendres, etc., and whatever else might pop into my head or whatever I can manage to plagiarise before my Honours Journalism deadline (I’m just kidding! … kind of).

That’s all I can think of to share for right now, but allow me to leave you with this limerick I wrote:

“There once was a man from Peru,
Who dreamt he was eating his shoe,
He woke with a fright,
In the middle of the night,
To discover that his wife Melinda had run off with her Spanish lover Fernando and had drained his bank account because women are fickle and selfish and she never really loved him because she was a gold-digging tramp-whore-slut”

Uhm… it’s a work in progress.