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).


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.

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.