Slippery Dancefloor

Knowing what to say, when and how.

Hello.
It's good to see you.
Sorry.
Thank you.
How are you?
Excuse me.
Fine thanks.

A game played by most, in different situations of course; but all for the same purpose. We want something from each other. How we go about getting what we want from each other is what counts most I suppose. Not that it's anything new. I mean we all know this. But the floor on which we dance, gets more slippery as we continue with the different interactions. Concealing for the most part the real reasons for these apparent interactions, it's kinda bleak to think that most of it doesn't really count. There's too much calculation going (mental rehearsals) for bona fide  improvised moments. Paranoia? Perhaps... It's been an all too fast jump for me from interacting, to socialising, to networking with the ultimate target being to reach some sort of networth. Different styles and methods but most have the same M.O. They just work it in different fields. Nothing seperates any of us. Not even 6 degrees. Now that I've bullshitted my way through a post, you can find something else to do.

God Loves Ugly

Some people have better ways of saying what I would like to. What a mess.

Bone V.S Muscle

Rondebosch, Main Road, 2009.

The fools decide to order a round of good guy burger's from the Steers downstairs from the grimy spot they had been drinking. They continue talking smack between taking mouth fulls of their burgers. A block of man walks by and makes some grand crass gestures which he directs to the women sitting at the table with the group of naughty stick men. Some of the nutritionally challenged object to the mans obscenities, by hollering and throwing wanna be signals of courting a physical challenge. One of these guys chews through his good guy burger and utters softly for only the table to hear "Izo toswa le chap." (This guy is gana get fucked up) between bites. The leader of the madness chases the beast out into the street( after judging that the man being across the road was at a safe enough distance ). He unstraps his belt and holds it out above his head having folded the strap to ensure it made slapping noises. Behind him a mindless sheep stands pointing and shouting at the man. Good guy watches all of this repeating over and over "Izo toswa le chap." The man, Beast turns to look at the commotion across the road and with total disregard for their numbers, approaches the twig men. Good guy decides to run out and get between the muscle and the bones, having amped himself up with his burger (much like Popeye does with his spinach) puts his hand on the Beasts chest and politely asks "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!?!" The beast being a man of few words but rather of simple action strikes a fist to the face of good guy who then meets the flaw. Another Idiot a part of the posse realises that he cannot stay out of this now that his kin has been struck and lands a few solid blows to the beasts face, making him speak for the first time between punches. "What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?" Asks the beast very calmly after each mosquito bite to the face and proceeds to knock Another Idiot to the floor, where he goes to work. Somehow Beast must have made some sort of unheard resonance for backup, because all of a sudden the Somalian looking crew were mobbed by a bunch of men of the Beast's stature and larger. From there an all out war ensues. Bushbaby, a member of the Somalians tries to headbutt one of the Beasts, but is caught by his head in mid motion and thrown into the Mr Price window on the street. Fortunately his weight was not enough to fall through the glass. Benicio who had been around the corner taking a leak sees his friends in all out warfare and runs to join the fight but one punch from the Beasts directs his momentum groundwards. At the moment of impact a car passes by and for just that instant everyone thinks he was hit by a car. One of the more Fiery ladies with the crew braves the war to drag him out of the road. Once she secures his safety she too decides to jump in. If there is one lesson the starving children of Africa learnt that day is that the Beasts had no morals. She tries to jump on the original Beast's back and is easily thrown off and hit by the man. In the middle of fighting multiple men, Good Guy screams out "THEIR HITTING WOMEN!!" (This I think was meant to be another power up moment, like they do in the movies) Unfortunately for them real life doesn't quite work out the way it should. There's no physical power in moral standing, especially when being overpowered by Six or Seven powerful roughians who live to fuck up, drunk kids from the burbs chancing with their sorry excuses for muscles. The leader of the madness realises the reality of the situation and takes to try and stop the fight. His efforts are in vein. Twice he tries to walk into the centre of the action professing "Sto..."  and twice he is slapped making his knees buckle. The scene has gathered quite the crowd, including the Steers staff who are bent over in stitches of laughter. The beating would have continued had it not been for the blue lights. For the first time in their lives The Somalians disregard every Hip-Hop lyric they've sang about the police and breathe a sigh of relief. The Ogres make a quick getaway and the Somalians feel all the injuries they suffered.  They thank their lucky stars that there were no casualties, which they thought there could have been had it not been for the Bacon that rescued them. Benicio lives! But caught the raw end of the deal in terms of visible injuries. They realise that night that they had gotten fucked up and that as a crew the could not fight. Some manage to laugh it off that night, other's puke and go for check ups. A sad crew for sometime all wondering the same question No one had seen the mindless sheep that was shouting behind the leader of the madness throughout the fight. Was he finishing up his burger and watching as everything unfurled and decided to join the group when he saw the blue lights approaching? The fight was witnessed by the Store Owners at the DVD rental spot across the road from Steers who felt so bad that they cleared all outstanding debts on late returns. They probably thought that the crew had received their fair share of karma.

Moral of the story? Don't fight. It's just an embarrassing story to share.

http://andilesbored.com/ act like you know.

Get Angry Much?

 Using words as a way to break people as much as one can in the heat of the moment. Darren said Kaffir cause he was an angry racist right? But it's not about the fact that he used the word that bothers me. It's the way he used it. Ok so it's derogatory and all that and he probably throws it around when he and his family gather around the dinner table, or when the microphone for commentary is on mute or around the braai whatever. And when one is caught out, it is of course way inexcusable, hade for him. But I do understand that in the heat of anger one will say whatever it is that is most likely to do the person it is aimed at the most harm. I've said some horrible stuff that I meant in that moment, but regretted afterwards. Now don't get me wrong, I don't think Darren regretted using the word kaffir, nor do I doubt the fact that he continues to use it in a private capacity. All I'm saying is that I understand that in the heat of the moment a person is trying to say whatever it is that he thinks will break down the recipient in the hardest way possible. Take a look at Harry in this scene from the movie In Bruges. He later goes onto apologise to his wife by saying: "I'm sorry for calling you an inamate oject... I was upset." Which I think is the best and most honest apology on record. I'm not excusing what get's said in the heat of the moment. I'm just saying it happens.

No point in watching it twice, the slow mo kills the point.

The Simpson

you're only an asshole when you keep your secret inside. Or maybe you have one and use it regularly. Either way :)

5%

As she steps out of the shower her hand reaches for the purple and black towel that had been gifted to her by Thami. She dries her hair by rubbing vigorously. The wet curls stick to parts of her face, she gazes into the mirror and distorts her mouth into a sneer then pops her eyes out at the mirror. The glassy red in them is a reminder of the previous nights debauchery as is the mild headache accompanied by dehydration. She was used to going out on school nights ( as long as her parents were out of town, which was often enough). Happy enough that the shampoo was able to get the smoke out of her hair she dries off the rest of her body. Last night’s song pops into her and she hums the tune all through the dry off, the popping in of the contact lenses and tooth brushing process. She turns her head to look out the window and is greeted by the warmth of sunshine which aligns itself with the tile markings. The white tooth full smile sends a reflection that greets the sun back, and as if waiting for just this signal the star asserts its light to fill the entire bathroom. Usually after such a heavy night this would be too bright for her, but not today. “ Thank you for sending my parents away.”

In her bedroom she puts on the C.D player and tosses her towel aside. The swing jazz leads her hips to sway from one side to the other and her legs to move to the rhythm. She sings along as she get’s dressed. Step in, step in pull up. First strap, second strap and click. One sleeve, second sleeve then button up. Pull up long sock then fold over. Pull up long sock then fold over. Pull up skirt, tuck in shirt and zip up. Slip in foot and buckle. Slip in foot and buckle. Cross over one, loop through once, loop through twice , wrap around, slip through once pull, tighten and straighten tie. She looks into the mirror and sees a short curly haired, green long socked, black shoed, green tied and a white shirt, short sleeved wearing girl staring back at her. She puts her index and middle fingers together and presses them against her plump lips and flicks her wrist to one side. She watches her one leg lift in the reflection as she picks up her bag and blazer and exits the room.

“Ag maar jy lees mooi, dankie Nthabiseng jy kan sit. Pragtig my skat dit was wonderlik. Leonard more ons begin met jou. Goed stan op. Gooie more klas, reg julle kan gaan. Katlego kan ek praat met jou asseblief.”

“Jeez Nthabiseng what you do to get that right?” Monique asks as they walk out of class while opening a packet of sour jelly beans. Nthabiseng picks up on the ice at the end of the question and coolly returns it.

“ I don’t know, probably trying to get back into my brother’s good graces.”

Walking towards the bridge that joins the school’s C and D block buildings they catch sight of the others on the bridge. Monique’s retort is smothered by the guys’ raucous shouting about Saturday’s rugby game. Joan emerges from the huddle of large teenage males with big eyes and gasping for air. She lunges a hug to both Nthabiseng and Monique to express her relief.

“ I know. It's okay.” Nthabiseng whisper’s into her ear before Joan speaks.

“ I’m so glad to see you guys! You won’t believe how long I had to listen to this! First Tumi didn’t come to school, then Mr Prince was absent and so I had to listen to this all through invigilation! I mean ja I get why they like it, but to have an hour long screaming match just to carry it with you into break is just ridiculous!”

“ Jesus are you breathing yet?”

Monique says dropping her jaw and exposing a mash of jelly beans for effect.

“ Ag that’s disgusting! Anyway how Ms Van De Watt? Has she finally changed her tampon brand?”

“ I think she actually might have.” Nthabiseng replies pleasantly.

“ At least for her; she’s convinced that Van De watt’s trying to get back into her brothers good books.”

“ Jealousy is unbecoming Monique.” Sings Joan. Once again Monique’s response is stifled by the guys bursting into a new round of shouting.

“ Fuck that shit! Nate Cedar had his time, bring in the new blood Erick Nasieb is the heat!” Nthabiseng decides to jump into the rugby debate

“ Erick Nasieb is the only number one in the world who also serves as a loose forward. He’s like having two players in one. So whatever team he plays for have sixteen men on the field.”

“ Ag that just means he wastes energy running around the field and ends up too tired to push in the scrum.” Pieter condescends. Siya’s passion takes a hold of his voice once again

“ Kak! How many times did you see him pop Pier Hylic like a champagne cork all through Saturdays game?”

“Who cares?! Rugby is just a game that gives men an excuse to touch each other!” Monique yells while pushing herself through the huddle. This brings on a new frenzy of screaming from the guys trying to profess the manliness of the sport. Monique had a habit of pouring gas on a flame and she loved it. The guys loved it too, the girls found it annoying. Monique smirks and begins descending the staircase and crumples the packet of jelly-beans. A group of grade eight girls charge up the staircase pressing Monique up against the wall they’re squealing and giggling. They immediately stop upon the sight of Nthabiseng. She crosses her arms and allows her bag to drop and hang off her forearm.

“What’s going on?” she asks shortly. A little girl with a row of badges on each fold on the front of her blazer sheepishly steps forward. Her thin little legs edge centimetre by centimetre towards Nthabiseng while the others move backwards down the staircase. Her eyes evade Nthabisengs gaze.

“ Sorry Mam, Richard was chasing us. He has a mouse that he’s trying to put down our shirts.”

“ Can you see the matric in the stairwell that you’ve almost completely squashed into the wall?” The group of girls collectively gasp together and begin making rushed apologies. Monique waves them off

. “ Jeandre. You’re an RCL member and you’re playing on the staircase during break when you know that it’s out of bounds. Next time it’s a pink slip to all of you. Now off you go.”

A chorus of yes Mam’s and sorry Mam’s are made and the girls rush back down the staircase. The sound of the girls erupting into excited laughter once they get to the bottom is heard.

“ You really do have a way with people.” Siya remarks.

“Yeah… I know.” Is Nthabisengs nonchalant response. She slowly makes her way down the staircase. “ Let’s go get lunch and sit out on the field.” Monique barely gives her a smile as a means of saying thank you. “It’s okay.” Nthabisengs whispers as she walks past.