2012: The Good, the Bad & the Ugly.

General consensus among my friends is that 2012 was a rather shitty year.  This year was shitty for different people for different reason.  I for one am rather relieved that I survived 2012, albeit it a little worse for wear, but I survived!  As life goes, 2012 posed a few challenges for me but it wasn’t all bad.  Sure I suffered a Panic Attack and now rely on certain prescription chemical, but isn’t this all part of living in a world that sometimes goes bat shit crazy and is a rat race with no finishing line? As I take this opportunity to reflect on some of my highlights and low-lights of 2012 I cannot help but wonder, will 2013 be better?

As some of you know 2012 didn’t start off that entirely great for me.  Sure I welcomed in the New Year on the island of Madagascar and spent a glorious 11 carefree days there, but my holiday ended in a disaster culminating in The Day I Almost Died.  I never in my wildest dreams imagined that I would ever end up being a “medical emergency” thirty thousand feet in the air, but I did!  I was suffering from double pneumonia.  My holiday ended with me landing back in South Africa, going straight to the Emergency Room and being admitted to hospital for 5 fucking days.  The perfect start to 2012, don’t you think?

Apart from narrowly escaping death this year I also dabbled in some diet pills.  You see I am a sucker for anything that can help you lose weight that doesn’t require any exercise or dieting.  After all, I am about five stomach flues away from my goal weight!  So when some Chinese Weight Loss Pills promised that I would lose weight without any effort I jumped at the chance.  These pills have since been taken off the market because they are “dangerous” and I am still ten kilograms overweight.  Fuck!  We also had to fire another housekeeper this year.  It is really difficult to find good Help these days.  In the last two years we had about five housekeepers with The Sleuth, The Bitch and The Sloth being the worst of them.  Luckily, we finally found one who might be a keeper, let’s cross our fingers that she does not end up being some deranged serial killer down the road.  I would hate for one of my body parts to end up being a souvenir in her basement.

Speaking of serial killers, this year I also, to my utter horror, discovered that I was friended on Facebook by a Psycho Killer.  I was friends with Luca Rocco Magnotta.  The same guy who killed his boyfriend, videotaped the murder and then proceeded to cut the corpse into pieces and then mailed certain body parts to Canadian politicians.  Yes, I can really pick them!  He eventually got arrested and I learned how to use Facebook’s block function.  This really made me reconsider who I will accept as friends on Facebook, if I ever again get my friend list below 5000.  There really are some sick fucks out there and I made it abundantly clear on many occasions that, NO, I don’t want to be friends with people whose profile picks are their genitals or people who use Facebook as their personal sex hookup site.  I don’t want to friend your cock!

This year I also had a minor procedure done, you know the kind that delays the effects of time and ageing.  Sometimes Botox and the oils of delay aren’t enough and you need a little extra help.  This is when I learned that sometimes Beauty Equals Pain.  This year I also had an iBreakup.  I finally mustered up the courage to dump BlackBerry and switched to iPhone for good.  This breakup was long overdue and I know BlackBerry must be upset, but hey, life is a bitch and sometimes you have to put your big girl panties on and deal with it!

As for travel, this was a great year for that.  No disasters, no being harassed by customs officials and no diversions to godforsaken airports due to “weather problems'.  This year hubby and I went to New York City and this was most definitely one of the highlights of my year.  I loved the Big Apple and we took one hell of a big bite out of the city we instantly fell in love with.  Sure my public toilet phobia did harass me once again, but hey, even I can sometimes will the power to temporarily overcome certain of my eccentricities!  Another highlight this year was the opportunity to be only a few feet away from one of my idols – Lady Gaga!  A group of us attended The Born this Way Ball; this was the first time Lady Gaga toured South Africa and Johannesburg couldn’t get enough of her.  This was one of the most exciting days I had in 2012!  I love that bitch!

Two blog posts that I am particularly proud of this year is one of my pet projects:  Through the years I have been collecting old pictures of Gay and Lesbian couples spanning over 100 years.  100 Years of Gay Couples and 100 Years of Lesbian Couples are particularly dear to my heart as they show that we have really been around forever, even before it became “popular”.  We sure have come a long way with LGBTI rights over the last 100 years, but we have a long way to go still.  There still are some bigoted homophobes out there.  This year I lost my shit with one such homophobe named Pastor Oscar Peter Bougardt and I ended up successfully reporting him to the South African Human Rights Commission for hate speech.  Presently, they are still investigating the matter.  Then there were also the Light of the Nations Church and their stupid billboard which we managed to get removed.  Small victories, you might say, but it is with these small victories that the battle will be won.

No year and no life would be complete without pets.  Yes, President Jacob Zuma said having and caring for pets is “un-African” but I say fuck that!  I love My Cat from Hell and hubby and I do have what some could classify as being a zoo.  This year our furry family became even furrier with the addition of two bunnies who likes to pee on you and a tortoise.  Currently, we are one gay donkey away from having to move to a farm.  Unfortunately, this year also brought a tragedy with an accident that killed Alexi.  It was a sad and traumatic day but we made it through it. Rest in Peace Alexi!

Yes, 2012 was a rather shitty year but on the bright side, at least we survived another Apocalypse! 2012 taught me that even though life sometimes throws challenges our way we can all overcome these and the manner in which we overcome these challenges builds character, shows integrity and makes one stronger.  Sure this year was rather tough but my saving grace this year was my sense of humor and my ability to sometimes not take life too seriously and to take a moment to laugh at myself.  After all without laughter life would be oh so dreary and I prefer to stay on the delightful side of life, if I can.  So cheers to 2012.  You have been one motherfucking bitch who kicked me in the balls three times this year, but hey I love myself some bitchiness sometimes.  Let’s hope 2013 is better.  Happy New Year Bitches!

Till next time.

10 Rules / Tips for Christmas

Here are a few rules / tips for Christmas

1) You are going to gain a few pounds deal with it! That's why we have new years resolutions.
2) Don't dress up your pets! They may look cute, but trust me they will resent you for the rest of the year.
3) No matter what gifts you get, look surprised and happy (Botox helps with this)! You can always recycle that gift again next year.

4) Every family has a pink elephant, the aunt that got really fat, the bastard child or the odd face-lift! Christmas dinner is neither the best time nor the best place to introduce this into conversation no matter how dull the conversation is.

5) If you plan on "Coming Out", don't do it in a Santa's costume. This will NOT soften the blow and it will ruin Santa's wholesome image.
6) No party tricks! It may seem a good idea in your head but in reality you will make an ass of yourself.
7) Always wear underwear! This is essential and not just for Christmas.8) Be nice! We may not like all of our family, but the nice thing about Christmas is that you only have to see them once a year.
9) Don't drink and drive! I treasure all my blog readers and I don't want to loose the few of you!
10) The most important rule of them all - BE FABULOUS!!!

(Wishing Everyone a Blessed Christmas.)

If Santa was Gay

This is just too hilarious to keep to myself. Santa Bear and the 7 Gay Elves.

Which one of the elves would you be?

I don’t want to be Susan Lucci!

From the hideous badge on top of my blog you can probably deduce that it is that time of year again.  Against my better judgment I unwittingly entered to 2012 SA Blog Awards.  You see, I thought I was re-registering on their website and BAM, my blond predisposition caused me to enter this silly blog awards again.  Since I started my blog (almost 4 years ago, yes it has been that long) I have always managed to be nominated but I have never actually managed to win.  This has led me to believe that I am the Suzan Lucci of the blogosphere.  This year I have been nominated in two categories, Best Lifestyle/ Entertainment Blog and Best Political Blog (because of all the shit I cause for homophobes).  Will my Susan Lucci curse be broken this year?  Will you help me break it?  If you do, then please click on the hideous badge and vote or CLICK HERE.  Also don’t forget to confirm your vote.  Voting closes on 28 December 2012.  

Losing a pet is hard. Accidentally reversing over one is worse.

This past weekend our house was the scene of a tragic accident.  So tragic, that after it happened I could barely speak due to shock and sadness.  It is never a pleasant experience to lose a family pet, especially not if it was, in part, your own fault.  So still somewhat distraught from the emotional cocktail of sadness, grief and guilt. I thought it appropriate to use my blog as a platform for a much needed catharsis to help me overcome the tragic death of our beloved bunny Alexi.

R.I.P. Alexi

For those who read my blog regularly will know that all our pets are like our children.  And even though we do have quite a large family, by any standards, we love all our children equally.  When we got our bunnies just over two months ago I never imagined that one of them would die so soon.  I have always been pretty pedantic about the safety of all our animals, anal-retentive about making sure they have a healthy and well balanced diet and that they are both physically and emotionally in good shape.  Up until this weekend this have served me well, but as some people will tell you who has also gone through something similar, it only takes one slip-up and a split second for an accident to happen and in our case it was lethal.

You see, on Saturday our gardener came.  As per usual he was lectured about keeping the front door to our property closed at all times.  He was also lectured on keeping the sliding door that leads to the garage closed at all times and that he should make sure the bunnies does not go in there when he is fetching gardening tools.  The man has the IQ of a turnip and the attention span of a gold fish and usually only 10% of what you tell him sinks in.  Unfortunately on Saturday that 10% was not in favor of the bunnies.  His presence on our property would proof to be lethal for Alexi.

At around 10:00 hubby was on his way to the mall.  He entered the garage; saw that the sliding door leading to the garage was closed.  He got into his car, opened the garage door, reversed out and left.  About thirty minutes later our gardener came and knocked on the door.  I asked him what he needed and then he uttered the seven words that completely ruined the rest of my day.  He said “There is a bunny dead in garage.”  When I got to the garage I was completely unprepared for what I was about to see.

On the ground lay Alexi in a pool of his own blood.  It was clear that hubby drove over him and that Alexi was killed instantly.  Not wanting to have a complete emotional meltdown in front of the help (I am not that dramatic), I asked him to take the body to our vegetable garden and leave him there.  I walked back into the house and sobbed like a baby.  When I finally could compose myself I phoned hubby and told him what had happened.  During the call I found it difficult to find the right words.  “It was an accident and accidents happen” I remembered telling hubby who was devastated at what he had done.  We both felt an extreme sense of loss and guilt for failing to protect Alexi from harm.  It felt like we failed him.  We felt like horrible parents!

After I managed to get my bearings again, I proceeded to go to Alexi’s body and washed off most of the blood.  Bunnies have a strange way of grieving and when one of them dies the remaining bunny(s) need to spend time with the deceased bunny’s body in order to grieve and say goodbye.  This is exactly what I did for Halina.  She spent time with Alexi and did that little dance they do.  Eventually she gave him a final gentle lick and came and sat on my lap with her back turned to Alexi’s corpse.  The rest of the day it was clear that Halina was grieving and that she missed her friend.  Her pain and loss was mirrored in us.  My heart was broken just like Alexi’s bones.  The only consolation was that at least he did not suffer.

Later that day, hubby and I decided that we should bury Alexi in his favorite spot in the garden.  In South Africa this is illegal, but I decided to say fuck you to the municipal bylaws and we did it anyway.  By late afternoon hubby had dug a hole and Alexi was laid to rest.  It was a somber yet dignified affair.  Alexi is the first pet that we had to bury at our house since we have moved there and hopefully we will not have to have another pet funeral in some years to come.  In the two months that we knew Alexi he brought us nothing but joy, he was a funny little bun, full of life and he was naughty as hell.  We will never forget him.

Bunnies are social animals and need a companion.  Seeing as hubby and I work the whole day and that Halina would be alone in her day cage for most of the day, we decided to find her a new companion.  So we bought the five week old Vladimir.  He’s still a baby bunny and I was very concerned that Halina would reject him or even, God forbid, fight with him.  When we introduced him to her, Halina pretty much ignored him.  As they spent more time together they seemed to become more relaxed around each other.  On Sunday night Halina acknowledged Vladimir’s presence for the first time by spending a full hour trying to dry hump him.  She did this to establish her dominance over him seeing that bunny families are matriarchic.  After an hour of being dry humped Vladimir eventually submitted and this was followed by a protracted mutual grooming session.

Losing a pet is hard.  Accidentally reversing over one is worse.  But accidents do happen and I am sure hubby was not the first person to accidentally drive over and killing a pet.  I could not have foreseen that this past weekend would include a bunny funeral, but ain’t that just the way life goes sometimes.  This weekend just once again showed me that life is short and it can be over in a second.  So live each day to the fullest, appreciate everything that is in your life and never let an opportunity go by without telling your loved one how much they mean to you and that you love them.  Life is short; don’t waste a minute of it!  Alexi, we will miss you.

Till next time.

@LadyGaga and the #BornThisWayBall

If Twitter and Facebook are anything to go by then Lady Gaga’s visit to South Africa has been an extraordinary success, with people raving about her Johannesburg concert all over the social media.  When we bought our tickets, which was months ago, I was super excited to go to her concert.  Since she started her career five years ago I was an instant fan and I am very proud today to call myself a “Little Monster”.  Gaga has never seized to impress me with her music, her artistry and the positive messages she conveys albeit in a very unconventional way.  So when the day came, last Friday, for hubby, our friends and I to see her perform live in Johannesburg we were bursting with anticipation.

About three weeks ago our preparation for Lady Gaga’s Born This Way Ball started.  After all you can’t go and see Gaga and not dress up.  It would be almost blasphemous to pitch up at one of her concerts wearing just a jean and t-shirt.  Not wanting to look like a big walking cliché we put some thought into our outfits.  We were not going to sew stuffed toys to our clothes or show up wearing nothing but bubble wrap and black duck tape on our nipples.  No, that has all been done.  We wanted to do something unexpected, something original yet classy.  So we decided on going to the concert dressed up like slutty school boys.  Can you imagine four thirty something guys in school clothes getting their sluts on?

The outfits were simplistic, your average grey pants and white shirts and thin leather ties.  The shirts having on their backs embroider the words “Class of 2012 Gaga’s School of lil MoNsTeRs”.  On the front pockets a black badge with the words “Born this Way Ball” written in what else but glitter.  To jazz things up even further (because we are gay like that) we also had shiny strips of cubic zirconia crystals stuck all over the shirts.  Hubby had his grey short shortened and our other friend had his skirt made into a very mini miniskirt.  He also had a weave glued to his head on only one side and had several crystals stuck on to his face.  We all looked very shiny, very slutty and very gay.  On our way to the park-and-ride I remember us discussing how we hope other people would be dressed up too.  We all agreed that it would be a crying shame if we were the only ones.  Arriving at the park-and-ride I was unprepared for what happened next.

As soon as we got there people stared at us as if we just arrived on our spaceship from the planet G.O.A.T.  The stares quickly and unexpectedly turned into a paparazzi frenzy.  People were asking if they could take photographs with us and once Gregg showed them that he had written on his panty in glitter the words “GAGA” the photographic frenzy intensified.  This continued even after we arrived at the venue.  There are photos of us and Gregg’s ass all over Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.  Who knew that our rather simplistic outfits would attract that much attention?  But hey, it’s Gaga and you should show her some respect by stepping it up and putting in the effort.  Luckily we were not the only ones that came dressed for the concert.  There were loads of other little monsters wearing wigs, cans in their hair, taped nipples and weird and wonderful makeup.  It was a proverbial sea of very excited little monsters.

There were people who arrived at the venue as early as 9 o’clock in the morning which is dedications if I have ever seen it.  When we arrived at the venue, just a little after 4pm, there was already a large queue.  I didn’t know it then, but when we got off the bus that would be the last time I would have been sitting until just after midnight and that my feet and legs were going to be fucking sore at the end.  It was a long wait until we could go inside and once the gates opened it was a stampede with glitter and wigs flying everywhere.  Everyone was running to make sure they got the best place to stand.  At one point we were running also and I remember asking myself what the fuck I was running for.  But I ran anyway even though I knew there was no point to it.  To make a long story short we ended up standing 5 meters away from the stage and had the perfect vantage point from which to bask in the splendor that is Lady Gaga.

This concert was the first time that I realized that I was not as short as I thought I was.  I could actually see over the other people, which is rare for me.   During the show we had one annoying little Indian chick standing behind me.  This little annoyance from Bombay was short, full of energy and had no respect for the personal space of others.  She dry humped me from behind, thoroughly molested my back with her DD-cup boobs and at one point her ponytail was giving my exposed arm a rub down.  I felt extremely violated!  That chick had probably gone to third base with me and she didn’t even realize it and God knows I did not consent to it.  I felt a little raped and even though I also had an eye infection and had to wear sunglasses throughout the show I didn’t care because Gaga made it all worth it.

The show was indescribably good.  I was immensely impressed with the effort that goes into Gaga’s concerts and all the people that must work their asses off behind the scenes to make sure the stage, sound and lighting is perfect.  The people who help Gaga with her costume changes, of which there are many, and how fast that is done.  Her dancers who were magnificent, her band and of course Lady Gage herself.  When she sits behind the piano and sings magic happens.  She is also one of those artists who have enchantment inside her and she engages the audience on a level that I personally have never experienced before.  She truly is a brilliant performer who comes across as humble and sincere.  Gaga also manages to be authentic as an artist and conveys a positive and uplifting message through her music that could be felt by all who were there.

For those religious freaks who protested for Lady Gaga to be banned from coming to South Africa, where were you on Friday?  You made such a big stink about Gaga yet when push comes to shove you can’t even show up.  According to them Gaga is the Bride of Satan who will corrupt the youth of South Africa.  Well dumb fucks, clearly you protest against someone who you don’t know and whose concerts you have never seen.  If you were there on Friday you would have realized how ignorant you really are.  Gaga’s message to South Africa was one of hope.

The message I got from Gaga on Friday was that no matter who or what you are you should respect yourself, be proud of yourself, reach for your dreams, work hard, not give a fuck about what people say about you and never let anyone make you feel small, not worth it or say that you are not good enough.  Also if you are sad or being bullied you should always remember that you are not alone.  On Friday I was inspired.  I was inspired by Lady Gaga and how hard she has worked to get to where she is today.  I have also gained so much more respect for her as an artist and as a person.  If you have the opportunity to go to one of her concerts, do yourself a favor and go.  It will rock your world and you will leave feeling positive, optimistic and inspired.  I was Born This Way Bitches…

Till next time.

The Battle of the Christmas Trees!

It’s that time of year again. In a couple of weeks it will be Christmas, or as I like to call it ‘The Silly Season”. This is the one time of year when the child in all of us can be released with reckless abandon in the midst of all the plush and splendor associated with the festive season. The centerpiece of any self-respecting household symbolizing the Christmas spirit is that all important Christmas Tree. So when it came to selecting a tree, hubby and I unexpectedly found ourselves at opposite poles of the Christmas decorating spectrum which led to what will be going down in our history as ”The Great Battle of the Christmas Trees!”

It all started two weeks ago, December was looming and everywhere Christmas decorations sprouted in shopping centres, office buildings and neighbouring houses. This seeded the thought that maybe we should start planning how we would transform our humble abode into a Christmas wonderland. During our move, two years ago, our old Christmas tree was lost and perhaps luckily so. It was less than a meter tall (just big enough so as to not be too imposing in our then very small apartment), had serviced us for the last 9 years, had seen many a merry Christmas but unfortunately was also close to dilapidated and due for retirement. As we forage through our Christmas decoration treasure-trove the need for a new tree became apparent and was briefly discussed and we were in agreement, or at least that was what I thought. So when hubby brought home his interpretation of our new "Christmas Tree" I was somewhat mortified.

The following Friday hubby arrived home all excited about the tree he had purchased. The excitement was tangible, that was until he fetched the “tree” from the car and ceremoniously unveiled it on the dining room table. Barely 60cm tall it was a pile of sticks (presumably someone’s garden trimmings) hammered together in the form of a pine tree - dreadfully boring, barren, minimalistic and better suited as kindle for a barbecue fire rather than an opulent festive centrepiece. “What is this?” I confusedly asked, secretly hoping it was a practical joke. Elatedly and self impressed hubby responded “It’s our new Christmas tree, don’t you just LOVE it?” I paused for a moment trying to think of an appropriate diplomatic response, but as the reality that this was no practical joke sank in nothing was forthcoming and eventually I confessed that I absolutely hated it!

Hubby was unperturbed by my negative and somewhat icy reception of his newly discovered treasure. He appeared oddly enchanted by the sticks magical powers that I clearly was immune to and underwhelmed by. Hubby proceeded to dress the tree. Faerie lights, a couple of white and silver ceramic ornaments and our precious Chrystal Angle crowning the tree; he then switched on the lights and basked in self satisfaction. The tree looked like autistic woodpecker had build it while on some psychedelic drugs, then proceeded to poop perfectly shaped white ornaments on it with bits and pieces being periodically illuminated – the perfect place for spiders to nest and/or mites to breed. Looking at the pile of wood lit up it, in my mind, did not say Christmas but rather oozed the lackluster death of and total disregard for Christmas’ true essence and with each flickering of lights I grew more annoyed.  This tree had to go!

Naturally having had to stare at Woody the Drug Addict Woodpecker’s artwork for a whole week, this past Friday I proceeded to search for a proper traditional Christmas tree. I searched high and low and eventually found the perfect one. I always wanted to have a white Christmas tree, I am not really sure why, but I found one and took it home. With child like enthusiasm I set it up and dressed it with all the extravagance and grandeur deserving of the Christmas spirit. An hour later and it was ready and proudly erected and brightly illuminated in our lounge waiting to astonish and mesmerize all who gaze upon it. Then hubby arrived home.

Walking into the lounge he was unmoved by my tree’s magnificence, he grunted and proceeded to lecture me on how times are changing and how being stuck in the 1900’s is not a good thing. Apparently my tree was and is symbolic of an historical nostalgic artifact, a conclave of kitsch and not the festive objet d'art I thought it was. Hubby further shared his observation that my tree looked like the product of an hour long vomit fest by our four cats taking turns spewing glitter all over my brilliantly decorated precious beauty. As his tree tirade drew to an end I confidently said “I don’t care, my tree is still prettier than your pile of sticks!” Hubby turned away in disgust.

We didn’t speak for an hour rather opting to take our disagreement to cyberspace and fought it out of Facebook having our adoring friends play referee. During that hour opinions were shared and at the end most of cyberspace’s support was in my favor (I know hubby would beg to diver, but then he’s not writing this blog post now is he?). Eventually we realized our behavior was silly, infantile and unbecoming off the mature adults that we were supposed to be. Eventually we came to our senses and reached an amicable compromise: We both would keep our trees, not make our friends take sides about which tree is better; I will tone down mine and hubby will dress up his. And last but not least hubby will refrain from referring to his tree as a “Christmas Tree” and will do my utmost to stick to the “Less Is More Rule!” which is something I find almost impossible to do especially during Christmas – sigh...

So now our house has two Christmas trees, one minimalistic and understated and the other grand and generous. I don’t know how many other married couples have their own Christmas Trees or even have fights about them; maybe hubby and I are just a tad unconventional and overly adamant regarding our festive views. But one thing is for certain the silly season have only just begun and we sure are in for one hell of an interesting and jolly old time. Ho ho ho!

Till next time.

Jackie Beat - Santa's Baby

The Apocalypse: We Will All Die!

I am not sure whether you heard but the world is about to end (this is where you run away in horror screaming).  According to a range of eschatological beliefs some cataclysmic or transformative events will occur on 21 December 2012.  Coincidentally this is also when the Mayan calendar ends.  The human race will be swatted off this rock we call earth like flies are swatted off a piece of stale of bread.  This seriously will be interfering with my holiday and Christmas plans.  With this looming disaster I am however left with many important questions.  Important questions like what the fuck do you where to the apocalypse?  Must I wear my hair up or down?  Will I need sun screen?  These are the type of question you really should be asking yourself and the answers would greatly depend on how the end of the world as we know it pans out.  So here are two scenarios to consider.

Look, earth is in the middle of nowhere in space and, apart from aliens, there are a shit load of stuff flying around in our vast galaxy that we don’t know about.  Any of which could be on a direct trajectory to our little blue planet.  So it is viable that an intergalactic fender bender like the one that killed all the dinosaurs could occur.  There have been many movies made about asteroids hitting the earth and most of them have happy endings.  But, if the Mayans are right our ending won’t be.  Happy that is.  We will all die screaming and those who survive will later die either from freezing to death or starvation but we will all die!  Not being one for the dramatics (yea right) I would prepare for the end as follows.

Firstly, if it is confirmed that a huge rock was hurdling our way and they named it something terrifying like “ZardanofX51” I would first pee myself a little and then go on one mother of a shopping spree.  I mean honestly.  If the earth is going to end and we are all going to die anyway who the hell won’t max out their Visa cards?  It’s not like the bank will foreclose your house because it will no longer be there and neither will the bank and the bankers will all be dead.  And who wants to die screaming dressed in last year’s fashion, cheap sunglasses and a fake mink coat.  If an asteroid is going to hit the earth I want to look catastrophically appropriate and utterly fabulous.  The reason being that if in a 1000 years from now alien archeological rovers discover my charred fossil I want them to go “Ah, this species had good taste, was well fed and could accessorize the hell out of an outfit.  I wonder who were Prada, Armani, Gaultier and Lacroix?”

But asteroids aren’t a very glamorous way to die in an apocalypse so I secretly hope that it won’t end that way on 21 December.  I would much rather prefer being sucked into a black hole.  I have always been fascinated with black holes and how little we know about them.  Personally I have never been in one myself but from what I hear once you go black you never go back.  And from what I have seen on television, more specifically the Discovery channel, being sucked into black hole is not a pleasant experience as you are first stretched beyond your physical limit and then compressed into a minute particle.  For in case you haven’t realized it this scenario is not compatible with life and you will die.  But on the upside, at least you will look really thin for a few seconds.  So it’s not all bad.

If a black hole was to appear on 21 December I hope it is during the day time and that it is sunny and hot outside.  You see I would like to spend my last hours on earth next to the pool, sunbathing while drinking cocktails.  Lots of cocktails!  If I will end up being mutilated and molested by gravitational forces I would prefer to be highly lubricated, intoxicated and high on poppers.  I might even try negotiating with the black hole and it would go something like this “Sorry, nope I am not going into your black hole today.  It’s not like I am a racist or something but I don’t go into any holes if it hasn’t properly courted me or at the very least bought me dinner.  Do I look like a slut to you?  Go destroy Mars or Venus.”  Of course this won’t make any difference, but it would make me feel like at least I tried.  And remember I would be drunk as hell so it would be, at the time, a perfectly sensible thing to do in my mind.

Who said the apocalypse can’t be fun.  If you are going to die anyway and know when that day is what would you prefer to do?  Sit scared shitless in a bunker with canned food, bottled water, batteries and flash lights or would you prefer to get shitfaced and stuff yourself with all the food that’s bad for you but tastes delicious.  Honestly, I would prefer to do the latter.  I’d rather die laughing than die screaming.  It is the end of the world after all, you might as well let your hair down and live a little.  It’s not like you will be tagged in drunken pictures on Facebook the next day.  It’s not like you are going to wake up the morning of the 22^nd after having been asleep in your own vomit thinking “What the fuck happened last night?  What did I do?  What’s this chunky sour smelling stuff on my face and in my hair?”  No you won’t because you will be dead.  That’s how the apocalypse ends.  That’s why they call it an Apocalypse bitches!

Whether or not the world will really end on 21 December 2012, who the hell knows.  I for one think it’s a bullshit story.  If I recall correctly, the world was suppose to end like twice this year already and we are all still here.  So what will make 21 December so special and catastrophic?  So the Mayan calendar ends then, but maybe the Mayans just got tired.  Or maybe the Mayans updated their calendars to that date and decided that the next generation would do the next 100 years and unfortunately for them, their descendants were a bunch of procrastinating lazy shits.  Whatever the case maybe I will not be holding my breath for fire and brimstone to be falling out of the sky.  On 21 December I will be lazing about doing holiday stuff and drinking a moderate amount of cocktails because I hate hangovers.  If you want to sit in a bunker, it’s your choice.

Till next time.

Meet Gayburg

Meet Gayburg was created to fill a niche within the South African social scene with the hope to expand social circles and break down barriers.  The partnership between owners Suzette Leal and Lawson Ricketts was formed over Sunday lunch in Hyde Park.  Suzette explained the Meet Joburg (a previously developed company) concept and Lawson immediately recognized the need for such a platform within the South African gay community.  Both owners have lived abroad (London, New York, & Amsterdam) and witnessed similar popular social and business concepts and felt that cities in South Africa would benefit from the positive connections created.  Thus began the beginnings of Meet Gayburg…and coming soon Meet Gay Town! 

Meet Gayburg is an online platform AND a real world network with monthly events in sexy locations where you can talk business, make contacts and meet friends. Our members are a mixed bunch of professionals including some of the country’s most successful businessmen, authors, designers, actors, lawyers, teachers and politicians. We don't restrict the definition of 'professional' to these, however, and you are welcome to join us whatever your current position. Some of us don't even own a suit! 

Events are structured around four pillars of interest:  arts & culture, dining & restaurants, adventure and sport.

It’s free to apply and applicants will keep receiving invitations until there is one that really tickles their fancy. All applicants can attend their first event, obligation free. Should they enjoy this experience, they can sign up to become a member and this will guarantee them two invitations to tailor made events per month. Members pay R1200 for a year’s membership and R180-R350 for each event.

Meet Gayburg is hosting a launch event on 17 November where they encourage the LGBT community to “Become an IN-MATE!” - Join Meet Gayburg and hostess Mary Scary as we celebrate our launch in an old prison complex!

To receive an invite to the launch event, visit the Meet Gayburg website and 'apply now' to become a member. This will provide an invitation to the event and notifications for upcoming events.

It’s time to OUTsource your social life and join the Meet Gayburg pink scene!

For more information go to www.meetgayburg.co.za.

When Cuteness Pees on You.

For a Gay Couple Without Kids (GCWOK) we sure do have a shit load of animals.  But I do prefer having animals over having actual children.  However, animals can be as demanding as children and the two new additions to our queer family are naughty little buggers.  In the month that we have had them there has not been a dull moment.  Owning rabbits is much like having two destructive toddlers in your house who do what they want, go where they want and chew and pee on what they want and there is little to nothing that you can do about it.  And after getting up to some serious mischief they turn around and look at you with those big brown eyes, floppy ears and fluffed fur and their cuteness overwhelms you and it is very difficult to stay mad at them.  In the last month I have learned a great deal about rabbits, the kind of stuff that they don’t tell you when you research bunnies on the internet, the kind of stuff that you need to know before you decide to keep them as pets.

The first thing you absolutely must know about bunnies is that they are seriously cute.  You might think this is a good thing, but you would be wrong!  They use their cuteness as a very effective weapon to manipulate you and get away with just about anything.  Sure I just chewed off the cables of three lamps, ate my way through your work folder and peed on the surround sound’s subwoofer but look how adorable I am when I jump around the coffee table and then flop over by your feet asking you to rub my belly.  Sure I just peed on your favorite comforter and on you, ate your expensive house plant, broke a glass and bit the cat but look how cute I am when a bath myself and don’t you think my big feet are adorable? Their cuteness is equal to their mischief and inherent destructive nature.  They were designed that way and I think God has a seriously dark sense of humor because of it.

Bunnies are also very curious animals and have the ability to get into places you really would not expect them to get into.  They are also professionals when it comes to hide and seek, with their specialty being hiding!  There have been a couple of days that the bunnies disappeared much to my frustration.  Knowing that there is no way for them to get out of the house if the doors are closed many a time I have found them hiding behind the fridge, under the couch, behind the bookshelves, in the fireplace and on top of my computer box; this after I spent a good few hours searching for them.  And don’t be fooled, they weren’t chilling in these hiding places, they were hiding and to them this is a game - a fun game for them but not so much for us.

As the bunnies got bigger hubby and I decided to let them outside in the yard.  At first they hated it but after some supervised outings they became more used to the idea and this is now an activity they look forward to in the afternoons when we get home from work.  At first they enjoyed their freedom and whenever something startled them they would head for the house.  But as their confidence grew so did their mischievousness.  They usually would spend three to four hours outside and at around 7 or 8pm they would come in by themselves.  This was until the other day when they decided “fuck you we want to stay outside longer”.  So what did they do, you may ask.  Well, they did what they do best – they hid!

At around 8pm hubby and I wanted to start locking up the house.  We life in South Africa and this is something you have to do if you don’t want to get robbed or murdered.  So we went outside and called the bunnies.  After about 20 minutes the calling turned into a full on search.  In our PJs with a flashlight in the one hand and a celery stick in the other, we search every inch of our yard, under the cars, the garage, the pool pump and even the pool.  An hour passed and nothing.  They were nowhere to be found.  After another hour passed the girl eventually had enough of their little hide-and-seek game and came out but the boy was still missing.  Eventually, after fearing the worst (that he got caught by an owl and was being eaten alive) we gave up, locked the house and prayed that he was ok, where ever he was.

At 3am I went and looked for him again but again went to bed with images of an owl having beakfuls of my precious little bunny.  To my relief at six o’clock the next morning the little fucker was sitting in front of the door wanting to come in as if nothing had happened.  Where he was hiding I still don’t know but the following evening he was the first one of the two to come in, so clearly spending a night by himself outside was not as much fun as he may have thought.  The hiding, albeit frustrating, is not the worst the bunnies do, what is worse is the nymphomania.  There is a reason there is a saying “fucking like bunnies”.

Our bunnies are now almost four months old and their hormones are now starting to kick in and their primal urge to procreate is seriously strong.  Boy bunnies reach sexual maturity before girl bunnies and as such our boy will be the first to have a little visit to the “Planned Parenthood” vet for a little snip.  At the moment he is not yet well enough developed to be neutered but this is not stopping him from having sex with his girlfriend every opportunity he gets.  Every time they do the nasty Boris and Killer Pussy look at them with that confused “What the fuck are you doing?  What is wrong with you?” look.  The first couple of times they had sex we tried to break it up but then they would just hop around the corner and fuck further.  So now we just leave them, it’s not like we have time to play fuck police 24/7.  Like all good parent we just hope that she does not get pregnant, that she stays in school and that she doesn't become a stripper!

Yes, bunnies are a handful and may not be the best pets for all people.  But despite all the havoc they cause, promiscuity and little tantrums they throw they are adorable and I am very glad we have them.  We are still in process of potty training them but it is going badly.  The vet said that after we have “altered” them (which is just a weird way of saying after they have been spayed and neutered) it will be easier to potty train them.  I guess we will have to wait in see.  In the mean time we would just have to walk after them with a cloth and diluted white vinegar until they learn to pee in the litter box and not on us.  So if you are considering getting a bunny as a pet, you can’t say that you have not been warned.

Till next time.

Sex, or at least the hint thereof, sells

Every so often I come across some advertisements that clearly are marketed towards the gay market.  After all we do have all those disposable pink money that are burning holes in our pockets.  Sometimes the advertisers hit the nail on the head and other times not so much.  Here are two that I have seen recently that did a pretty good job.  Enjoy...

STOP THE UGANDAN GENOCIDE!

Genocide is still occurring in the world, and another one is pending!
On October 14, 2009, a so-called "Anti-Homosexuality Bill" was introduced in Uganda's parliament.

This bill would:

• Imprison for life anyone convicted of "the offense of homosexuality";


• Punish "aggravated homosexuality" – including repeat offenders, or anyone who is HIV positive and has gay sex – with the Death Penalty;


• Forbid the "promotion of homosexuality," and jail rights defenders who work on LGBT rights;


• Imprison anyone for up to three years if they fail to report within 24 hours anyone they know who is lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender, or who supports their human rights.

This Bill is nothing but a vehicle that will be used to legalize targeted killings.

Please STOP this pending Genocide and get involved. Contact representatives of your government and demand action are taken to prevent this potential tragedy!

This bill is set, according to Ugandan officials, to be passed by the end of this year.  Time is running out!

THIS VIDEO IS NOT FOR SENSITIVE VIEWERS!

But like they say a pictures speaks a thousand words

Pastor Oscar Peter Bougardt, the bigot from the Western Cape.

Why is it that hurricanes seem to bring out all the loonies, especially the religious kind?  Just last week I reposted I blog post that dealt with two bat shit crazy religious folks who blamed natural disasters on gay marriage and homosexuality.  But imagine my surprise when I found out that we in South Africa also have a nut job who clearly loves riding on the fanatical idiotic coattails of his likeminded American friends.  His name is “Pastor” Oscar PeterBougardt.  If the name sounds familiar, it should because this so called Pastor last year fervently stated that Arch Bishop Desmond Tutu was going to burn in hell because he supports LGBT rights.  One can conclude that the Pastor is a few dildos short of a homoerotic good time and that he also may not be the sharpest tool in the shed.  But seeing as this poor Pastor is really attention starved I have decided to give him some attention.  So lube up homophobe this is about to get rough.

Last week, shortly after Hurricane Sandy devastated part of the United State’s East coast, our Pastor decided to post this Facebook status update for all of his 1 586 friends to read and I quote (spelling mistakes and all):

“President Obama wants the USA to accept homosexual marriages as normal. God spoke through hurricane Sandy, telling them not to mess with mother nature. Marriage is ordained of God and it is between a man and woman. For the USA or any country to accept homosexual marriages as normal is playing with nature, God id using mother nature to deal with evil countries. President Obama won't see another term in office, God will punish him. South Africa wake up, God hate sin, if this government don't scrap perverted homosexual laws, God will deal with SA as He is dealing with the USA. With all the weapons of mass distruction, and all the riches the USA have, they could not stop mother nature. God is God and He will not allow any country no matter how rich or strong to play with Him”.

Clearly the Pastor cannot comprehend what “Global Warming” is nor does he understand the effects thereof.  Instead he blames the gays.  Why is it that homosexuals and our right to marry could have such devastating effect on the planet whereas greenhouse gasses, pollution and carbon emissions don’t?  Secondly, if God was going to punish South Africa for our “perverted homosexual laws” how exactly is he going to do that Pastor?  With Hurricanes (which we never have)?  And earthquakes (which we also never have)?  Or perhaps fire and brimstone?  The latter seems more plausible if you ask me.  I guess, according to the Pastor, God will make an exception when it comes to Gay Marriage because according to the Pastor’s diligent research it is “unnatural” and an “ungodly sin”! 

In another status update on the Pastor’s Facebook page he attempted to do a psychological analysis on gay marriage and I am sure this “copy and paste job” that he calls his “research” made sense to him at the time.  But this is the problem when an uneducated person commits plagiarism and foolishly makes unsubstantiated statements that were neither proven through scientific, sociological, anthropological or psychological research.  A good example of his idiocy clearly comes through in this statement he made in that status update, and I quote:

“Some male homosexuals claim that they look at other men the same way men look at women. However, scientific research indicates that in their brains, homosexual men "look at" other men the way women look at men. This tendency could indicate that at least some homosexual men might actually be transsexuals. They call their partners "husbands" because subconsciously they really want to be women.”

This is utterly laughable and only demonstrates his lack of comprehension of the complexities of the LGBT community.  It is dangerous for a person like him to make such statements and hold them as truths.  But what really disturbed me was his blatant hate speech.  As a person who claims to be a man of God, who is respected by the community in which he claims to preach the word of God I am particularly perturbed that he is abusing the platform he has been given and instead of building peace, tolerance and respect amongst his community he is preaching intolerance and hate.  What really pisses me off is the fact that his Church, the Calvary Commission Bible School in Mitchells Plain in Cape Town, is allowing this to happen.  Which begs the question, is his Church condoning the Pastor’s behavior, do they support his views and do they support his advocating violence towards the LGBT community?

In the one status update on Facebook by this Pastor that really made me lose my shit was the following that was titled “Homosexuals Are Cursed by God”:

“…Leviticus 20v13; If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable.  They must be put to death, their blood will be on their own hands.  I call upon the South African Government to reinstate the death penalty for rape, murder, armed robberies, drug smuggling, child rapist and child molesters and not to spare homosexuals the rod, execute them if they are caught in homosexual acts, their blood will be on their own hands…”

This is hate speech and incites violence towards the LGBT community.  I do appreciate that all South Africans have freedom of speech which we gained through our hard fought democracy and that all South Africans has the right to their opinions.  However, when a person of authority and a person who a community looks up to for spiritual guidance is leading them astray and advocating the execution of a minority group, surely somebody should intervene.  So I called on the South African Human Rights Commission to address this.  I sent them a heartfelt email reporting the Pastor for Hate Speech.  With hate crimes against the LGBT community on the rise, especially in the Western Cape, we really do not need another religious nut job to be advocating and even encouraging such violence to occur.  People like him must be stopped.

It seems like any Tom, Dick and Harry can call themselves Pastors these days.  And with “Pastor” Oscar Peter Bougardt it seems to be no different.  He claims to have completed a Diploma in Bible studies and that he was ordained in 2002.  He further claims to be a counselor and hopes to make a difference in the crime riddled area in which his ministry is based.  Sadly, it seems the only difference this man seems to be making is perpetuating intolerance, hate and homophobia in an area in South Africa that is already vulnerable to negative influence. Horrifyingly, in this case the negative influence is not from gang leaders, drug dealer or criminal syndicate, it is from a man who claims to be a man of God who’s heart is filled with hate.  Not the type of person I would trust to lead a community to salvation now is he?

Till next time.

An update 23 November 2012:  The Human Rights Commission of South Africa decided to react to my complaint and they are now investigating the matter.  Let's hope they make him stop!

An update 14 December 2012 (click on the image to read):

Gays to Blame for Hurricanes and Earthquakes?

In light of Hurricane Sandy hitting the East Coast of the United States this week and some fucktard called John McaTernan (right wing pastor of Defend and Proclaim the Faith Ministries), who blames Sandy on the LGBT community and President Obama for supporting gay marriage.  I could not help but recall this blog post that I wrote last year.  Yes, this is not the first time the queers are being blamed for natural disasters occurring and if you believe these religious nut jobs, you should be very scared of the gays because we can bring shit down.

“Gayness” has been blamed for the East Coast tremors in the United States of America this week. Yes, you heard me right! Apparently the influence and extraordinary power of the queers has yet again made the earth move and this time it wasn’t only limited to our bedrooms. Pat Robertson (the crazy televangelist) pinned the blame, in part, on us gays for the 5.8 magnitude earthquake that rattled the East coast. According to him it wasn’t even the gays per se (darnit) , but rather behavior that Robertson labelled “gay-like” that pissed off the almighty and prompted him to smote Americans. As I sigh and roll my eyes, I can only ask the obvious – Really Pat Robertson, Really?

According to Robertson “All across the Eastern seaboard, there are men who get manicures, wear designer eyewear and know about thread counts and God finds this gay-like behavior confusing, and He responded by getting mildly peeved”. Pat did God Skype or Facebook you or something, how do you know this? Surely the CEO of like the whole Universe and such has better things to worry about other than meterosexual men and their God Damn manicures (hmmm... does God really damn manicures?). Secondly, Pat are you a selfish son of a bitch who don’t want people to have nice things? How is getting a manicure, designer eye wear and good linen with a high thread count immoral behavior  It’s called having good taste and good personal grooming something, from the looks of it, you have very little off.

Queerly, Pat went further to warn that people should not get too upset about the earthquake and said “God looks at people who get their panties in a twist after a little shaking, and He says to Himself, ‘Wow, that’s really kind of gay’”. Well, I must concur with God on this one: the twisting of one’s panties and the right kind of shaking is indeed a little gay, especially if done with the right amount of KY and with sufficient thrust. But, then again, I am not sure whether God would be into watching that kind of thing, but maybe you are Pat, you do look like a kinky kind of guy. It’s always the folks who protest too much against homosexuality who are caught paying for male hookers or found blowing guys in public restrooms.

According to Pat the gays can not only cause earthquakes we can also influence the weather. Who knew? I wish someone told me that when the last cold front rolled in. Pat said “If you keep on getting pedicures and facials, you can expect two to three inches of rain and some really hot humid days in your future”. Now let me get this straight. Manicures, sunglasses and knowledge of thread counts causes earthquakes and pedicures and facials causes rain and humidity. Isn’t it amazing how personal grooming, fashion and tasteful decor can be so frightfully immoral and dangerous? We must be teetering on the edge of a very precarious slope. I am shivering in fear hiding behind my Prada sunglasses and surely will have nightmares tonight under my Egyptian Cotton Sheets (thread count 1500 FYI).

I don’t know about you but I am getting rather tired of crazy fundamentalist religious freaks making sweeping statements in public forums. Statements that is fantastical, unfounded, bizarre and insulting to the intelligence of the people who are unfortunate enough to have to listen to them. Robertson falls into the same category as, amongst others, the folks from the God Hates Fags fraternity - the “Let’s scare the shit out of people with our Bullshit and get their money!” category. Shirley Phelps Roper, who periodically sends me tweets on Twitter that does not make any sense, and Pat Robertson could be family as they seem to be peas from the same crazy ass train pod. I am not entirely convinced that their parents didn’t actually fuck each other at some point, but if they did this is the result we are being chastised with.

Blaming natural disasters on the gays is not a new thing. Before it became fashionable to blame the queers by fundamentalist freaks, Communism was the flavor of the month. So I guess the Gays have become the new Communists. The blame game is an age old tradition and has been successfully wielded by many groups, feeding of the fears of society for their own selfish gains. The gain, most times, being to get their greedy little paws on other people’s cash. If you scare enough gullible people (and there are plenty out there) into believing a group or aspect of society is a genuine threat to their way of life and offer them a false sense of security, it is easy to get them to part with their money. And in this day and age it has become easier than ever and it’s rubbing my tits the wrong way!

So, Pat Robertson are you really as stupid as you sound? I guess that is the real question to be asked here. The men who are getting those manicures, pedicures and buying the designer eye wear and to whom thread counts matter in all probability are not stupid enough to be dissuaded by your mindless rants. Mind you, neither is the greater world population either. If I were you, I’d be more worried about what God thinks of your utterances and the words you put in His mouth. I am convinced that He is not at all amused by you making Him sound like a blabbering idiot, and He must be appalled by the state of your cuticles! I am so scheduling a facial and pedicure for next week, we can do with some rain...

Till next time.

Not the actual video (couldn't find it on YouTube), but this gives you a good idea of the freak show that is Pat Robertson.