Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Check Yourself Before You Rape Yourself !

Check Yourself Before you Rape Yourself !

By: Rob White

Photo Captions By: Swart Space

The last time I went to a Hip-Hop party in Cape Town I was almost anally raped by anti-social manic depressed Rasta’s and guys dressed up like they shop from thrift shops in leper colonies. Cape Town used to the idealized romantic Hip-Hop Mecca of South Africa but alas it was a lie, but the end of 2008 is looking like a good time to reinvent the scene, anything can happen these days. Just as that bitch ass Thabo Mbeki.

It’s on the re-up again with a new party called Beat Street which is at Cybar on Rondebosch main road, opposite the Pick ‘n Pay.

The party goes down every second Tuesday and is hosted by DJ’s Nick Knuckles and Chapampa. I went last week and was a bit skeptical. It was good surprise though, I never thought they would be banging some of my favourite shit in the club! I heard everything from The Roots to Wu Tang Clan to Pete Rock and CL Smooth. When last have you heard Das Efx in a club?

Checkity check yourself before you wreck yourself
CAUSE big dicks in your ass IS bad FOR your health.

There is no entrance fee and the other dope thing about it is that there is a buy one gets one free special from 5 to 8 pm. You can buy beers buy the bucket load .For real, if you’ve only got 40 bucks you’ll be sorted for the night!

One thing I never understood about some heads was the way they dressed, rocking outright silly shit like nasty spider web looking hairdos and massive specs, but I’d rather be chilling amongst cheap fuck weirdoes than a bunch of borderline fags at places like Tiger Tiger and the Roman Catholic Church. Sweat stains on a pink shirt is not a good look.

The one downside though (if you know these parts), is that all those crusty cock faces which inhabited the Starlight Diner down the road have now migrated to take sanctity there. We can deal with them, plus who cares when you have all these fine honeys to look at!

Hope to see there soon, and remember “It’s not what you drink. It’s what you spike.”-The Ladies Man

For a group of people that literally rule the world, white people are actually on some savage homo erectus caveman shit. This sorry son of a bitch looks like a giant roll of pidgeon shit dipped in mohair.

This is my friend Kayrab the Crab Dan . He gets the name from all the pussy that he eats. Good reason to smile.

The 80's are back baby! WOO!Cyndi Lauper Rocks! Woo! Aids rocks baby!!and along with it came yella girls with snoek fish pout smiles waiting for me to moisten their faces with my special protein skin firming lotion extracted from the deep forests OF DEEZ NUTS BABY!

Rob White. A.K.A MR. I love Virgin Active. I remeber the times when Rob would literally cry if he didnt eat at least three chip and cheese roti's a day. Youve done well. Now you just need to stay off that Heroin.

Like Eddie Griffin said on Dr Dre's 2001 Chronic, " Thirsty ass bitches". But at least these girls buy drinks and dont just dance around a hand bag the whole night waiting for The Ladies Man to buy them a drink.

Like my white gardener would say "eish".Cape Town has always been short of black talent, but these girls are probably from Johannesburg, Midrand or somewhere like that. But hey!fuck what i say, i'm just a hater man! pay no mind to what i say because i know your attention is being sucked in by the telekinetic power of the girl on the lefts fore head.

PLEASE Take that tie and put it to good use and lynch yourself you southern geechie porch monkey. Youre not Avril Lavigne and you dont work at the JSE. AND I CAN SEE YOURE A FELLOW WITH NO MANNERS. YOURE NOT A GENTLEMAN, WHERES YOUR BOWLER HAT NIGGA?..THAT SAID,PLEASE DONT SHANK ME IN THE CLUB.I KNOW WHO YOU ARE

Where do you hide money from a hippie? under the soap! Fuck getting them Engen garage pepper steak pies after the club, this girl came to the club with a whole Milk tart. But knowing hippies, she probably put her breast milk in in the tart.

Whats up? you guys have athritis or something?


Heavy, real heavy shit. Mars attacks. gotta find a bunker quick!

Looks like the Forrest Whitaker/Rza look is in these days.. get your lazy eye on baby!! and what the fuck is up with the Jimmy Hendrix cum rag blouse? but whatever yo, the girl on the left definetly deserves to get an honorary wank before i go to bed tonite.[i'm actually pressing print on your pic right now] but please Cut your friend off!! we dont need foreskins and we dont need appendix's. cut that shit off!

All in all...check out Beat Street every Tuesday.

Monday, September 29, 2008

I'm a Blogger Not a Fighter

This is was one of the weirdest days I’ve ever experienced. South Africa played and lost to New Zealand on our home ground at Newlands Stadium which started off the Tri-Nations Cup. Some of my friends got tickets to see the game. After the match my friend Dmitri gave me a call to have some drinks with them at a bar called Springboks which is right next to the stadium. He was already drunk enough to let out some brotherly affection and say, “Aaah Rob, just come bru…..it would be fucken cool if you were here too”. So I decided to hook up with them, not because I gave a shit about the rugby I just didn’t want to miss out on the merriment of chilling with the homies get after a couple of pints.

I arrived at the car park and in amongst the usual smell of boerie, (sausages) barley and hops(the brewery is right there) and piss there was a feeling of frustration and hate which was so tangible. The place was packed with hundreds of morbid supporters, dressed in green and gold. As I got out of my car this man looked at me like he wanted to rip my nuts off with his braai tongs and put them on his skottel.

Right then I had this uneasy feeling and I knew this place was not fit for a guy like me to be hanging around. I made my way down to Springboks and luckily I had no difficulty in finding my friends because they were standing right at the entrance. My first thought was that they had been kicked out which would’ve been a good thing because I wanted to leave that godforsaken place already. Luckily we only stayed for a short while discussing the proceedings for the evening. I wasn’t even pissed off that my friends made me drive all that way only to leave so soon.

On the way back to the car I was shocked at how such a simple thing as losing a rugby match can affect our national integrity so intensely that people were even abandoning the principles of the new South Africa. It was so bad that a group of Afrikaners started dissing “hotnots” in public again. The friend that was catching a lift with me is coloured and he wanted to beat the shit out of them. Luckily, being mildly sober my little bit of logic told me that two of us against twenty of them is more like a suicide mission and I just wasn’t up for watching a lynching today. I grabbed my friend and got the hell out of there like a black man at a white woman’s funeral.

Driving home I noticed all the same frustration on the roads. I even got hooted and shouted at by some crazy bitch who wanted me to move out of the way, when she was actually driving on the wrong side of the road. All this got me thinking, what the fuck is up with our people? We stand together singing the national anthem, embrace complete strangers in support and we crack many a brew in solidarity. When we lose though we look at everybody like they’re the shit on our shoes that we just stepped in and treat them with such contempt as if they really were that annoying, vile stench that just fucked up there day. Anyways, I got home to park my car and waited for my peeps to come pick me up. We were all going together to chill at our friend Ronald’s spot.While waiting I was pondering what the night would hold for us……chip and cheese rolls? Dubstep at Fiction? Ashy strippers at The Cage?

My entourage (No turtle) rocked up and we got on our way but first we had to drop Dmitri’s girlfriend Yana off. On our way there we were rounding a bend when I heard this motorbike coming like a turd out of hell from behind us. He was never going to stop in time so I turned my head away and closed my eyes waiting for the crash. It didn’t happen when I expected it to and I looked around to find that he had ridden up on to the pavement to avoid the collision and was now riding next to the car. Thank God I thought, relieved.

In most cases like this when a fool almost causes an accident and gets away unscathed its enough just to apologize and deal with the fleeting feeling of embarrassment, but with one look I could see this guy was a psycho. He rode down the pavement and kicked a massive dent into the passenger door (overtaking on the left tsk, tsk…rasclaat). Then he rode on a bit and flipped us the bird and in that instant lost control of his back and took a massive tumble. Ha,ha,ha what a fucken prick! I can laugh about it now but at the time it was really serious, serious as cancer. Dmitri stopped his car in the middle of the road and got out to confront him. He’s a soldier, at times like that I compare him to Che Guevara.

Patria O Muerte!

(Rob and Dmtri back in the day...)

What made it really weird was that geographically this was the worst place to get into a scuffle. It was at one of the busiest intersections that are in my hood, Plumstead. The spot leads onto the main road and it is in front of two busy restaurants, a video store and a 7-11. As I said the car was stopped in the middle of the road so the other cars had to watch the violent malay that followed.

In an attempt to regain some of his lost pride the bitter biker ran over and in one fell swoop removed his helmet and used it like a drumstick over Dmitri’s head, who must have been taking notes at the stadium because he rugby tackled him so hard which to my knowledge is commonly called a “lomp”. Yana jumped out the car and kicked the assailant two to the chest and finished it off with a graceful stomping of the nuts, nice one girl! (Coloured girls are soldiers baby!) I dragged the guy a few yards by his leather jacket thinking that if I create a distance in between them they’ll both come to their senses, but all rationality was out the window and next thing I was being chased in circles round the car by the madman wielding his helmet (I’m a blogger not a fighter okay).

Dmitri climbed into him again while Yana moved the car. Now Dmitri is coloured and the other guy is white, so are Ronald and I who are standing right there and what I found really funny was that cars passing by would stop and the people would ask us why we weren’t helping our “friend” (the crazy white guy), like it was some kind of race war. I felt self conscious when we started attracting quite a large, bemused audience. Even one of my cousins who lives in the neighbor hood drove past and saw what was going down and thought she would give me a call after not seeing her for six months then the crazy trick has the nerve to ask me what kind of people I hang out with.

I realized we must have looked like a band of thugs who decided to beat the shit out of some old fart for some spare change but mainly for the fun of it. It went way overboard Round 2 went down then Round 3. Every time the fight ended, they’d argue again and out came the helmet which was put to good use. At one point I tried to stop the fight and caught a blow to the head from it. Infuriated I grabbed the fucker round his neck, pulled him over onto the pavement, kneed him a few times to the spinal cord, stood on the inside of his arms so he couldn’t swing them anymore then ripped the helmet from his hands and threw it as far as I could down the road.. Now the playing fields were leveled but the psycho carried on without his weapon regardless. At one point I actually felt pity for the degenerate, I mean he looked ridiculous his jacket and t-shirt were ripped off so he was half naked and bleeding from the head and he was getting his ass whipped by Dmitri who is at least ten years younger than him. When is enough enough? This guy got beat down every time but he always came back with the fight of a pitbull (well the determination at least, not the power).

Dmitri was still shouting, “Hey pussy! Fuck you and your bike! Come li’l bitch, lets go now. You’re a fucken PUSSY!”, when I pictured flashing blue lights popping up soon and I was not prepared to be fucked by the long dick of the law. Ronald and I forcefully grabbed Dmitri and dragged him away until we got to the back roads and walked the long way home, Yana drove the car back.

We got to my place. No one was hurt, Dmitri had a few scratches on his knees, elbows and head from the rugby tackle. He lost his cap and Yana lost her scarf. We had some good laughs, sympathized for the dent in the car and decided to go out for a couple of drinks. Fuck it what else could happen right? Plus we had a funny story to tell.

Well the nights over now but I’m sure I’ll be writing about some weird shit pretty soon. I promise, somehow I have this uncanny knack of being involved in the most crazy situations. But as long as I’m white, it’s all good cause those pork brained Yakub loving swines cant put me under the jail!

Rob White