durban is yours, and mine, and his, and hers,and those peoples over there too…

I hail from a city on the East Coast on the tip of Africa known to some as, Dirtbin but to most on the outside as just plain old Durban… You may have also noticed that my relationship with this city and it’s occupants is a bit of a dysfunctional one. Bit like an abusive relationship that neither one of us can bear to leave. I’m not the only one who loves this filthy city though, and in an inspired move, a few of them decided to create a site that attempts to explore, share and get other people that live here out to enjoy what’s going on. Despite my crude rants about this city being asleep most of the time, there is in fact a lot of cool shit going down. So with the common love of Durban I agreed to join in on the endeavour and add my particular voice to the mix. I also love it when people make shit happen, and since these guys mostly come from the hardcore scene there is a strong DIY ethic to all of it. If you live in Durban, do yourself a favour and go over and check it out, at very least you’ll be inspired to do something with your useless self, or just go out and get shit faced, in which case, I’ll probably see you as you barrel onward to that inevitable hangover. For those of you who just want to read the usual bile I spew forth you can still catch a bit of that on there too. Go read my latest review, and check out the site in general. It’s a goodie, and I’d never lead you down the wrong path… Unless I had designs on molesting you, which in this case I don’t. Promise.

“At yet another dub-step party… Where did I go so wrong in my life? What choices did I make, or fail to make, that have brought me to this?” These deep thoughts plagued me for longer than I usually allow my brain to stay coherent. Turns out, I was a bit quick to start the introspective examination of my life. No matter what kind of party it was, it was a club banger if there ever was one. – Click to read more.

wall to wall plastic cocks.

If you’re planning on going to the Durban Sexpo, you best avoid being a single hetero male… You will eventually tire of the whole affair, and spend most of your time at the bar, paying out the nose for beer, trying to figure out if it’s lecherous to hit on woman at a Sexpo… WARNING: It is. It’s akin to standing in the lingerie section trying to pick up woman.

I’m not even entirely sure why anyone would want to go to the Sexpo. The majority of the stuff on show can be found in your corner sex store. Probably at a less of a mark up as well. The stuff that you can’t find at a sex store you can order online. I know some of you are going to say, but going to a sex store is an uncomfortable experience for the less sexually liberated folk. How is walking around a crowded well-lit exhibition hall trying to decide which cock replacement to buy any less intimidating than walking into a dimly lit, often pretty discreet adult store? First off, you’re unlikely to bump in to anyone you know, which trust me, after watching the encounter my mate had with some  female acquaintance, not realising she was testing the range on the remote for a water proof vibrating love egg, is something you’d rather not happen.

for those who don't know... this is a love egg.

The need for a Sexpo at all is beyond me… You can find everything and anything you’d want on the internet… Buy a porno? Are you mental!? Most of the internet is made of porn! I browsed the aisle and none of the DVD’s on sale were niche sort of variety that you couldn’t find more variety of online. They’re called download torrents, learn to use them… Okay, what about wank toys? No dude that I know takes his sword polishing that seriously to want to fork out hard-earned cash for a five-minute tug job that he essentially has to still perform himself. The one device looked like a plucked uncooked starved chicken. How the fuck you could shake hands with the milkman with that thing, I have no idea. The novelty of it would wear off quick; quicker than it takes an orgasm addict to spank his frank. For the ladies, there is a massive amount to choose from. Double ended 18 inch dildo to something that looks like a gate remote. Seriously you could attach it to your keys, and no one would think twice. There are aisles of dress up stuff, but I’m certain most of them will be used on Halloween when all the ladies let out their inner slut bag. You know it’s true! There are the millions of different lubricants and edible stuffs which is really more novelty than legitimately naughty. I was impressed by some of the designs of the more “ipod” looking penis replacements but other than being a kind of space age looking ornament, I have no use for that shit. Another exhibitor that caught my attention was the lady who takes plaster casts of sexy bits and paints really awesome stuff on them. The butterflies were really impressive…

Safe to say, the Sexpo in its entirety is geared toward women. If you’re one of those normal, well-adjusted people, in a healthy relationship you’ll have a good time too picking out your bedroom play things. If you get bored with walking around with your tired old bag of a partner you could always go check out the Woman’s or Men’s Lounges… By lounge they mean mini strip club. I didn’t go in, but judging from all the screaming from the Woman’s Lounge it was wild in there. As to be expected all you heard from the Men’s Lounge was music… takes real concentration to check out moving titties. I was there for few hours and the main stage had a whole bunch of stuff going on. I didn’t find any of it that titillating, but maybe I’m just too far gone down the pervert trail, so I won’t bash it too much. Although watching average Joe and Jane lick chocolate of each other isn’t sexy at all… Watching best friends Jane and Judy do it though had potential, but they weren’t stripping off like the Joes were, so it got lame quick.

Once again though, it has to be said, Durban is left wanting. The Jo’burg Sexpo is by miles far better than the pathetic show they have going at Durban Exhibition Centre. Like Durban doesn’t want to see Kayden Kross, Jesse Jane and Alektra Blue! We get Pricasso, some idiot couple doing and aerial show you can see at a weak circus and that hypnotist dude that hypnotised a tow truck driver’s chubby teenage girlfriend to make sex noises. I pulled a face like someone farted the whole time… Disgusting! We don’t even get that tattooed Nazi chick who boned Sandra Bullock’s husband…

my type of woman... if I wanted to be scared to close my eyes.

Over all, I’m cynical of the whole event. 4 days of your average pedestrian walking around trying to act nonchalant about butt plugs and vibrators with so many added features that a normal cock looks like a useless fleshy piss hose. If I was pressed to say something nice, the Durban Sexpo is good for a laugh. Gather up some mates and go point and snigger at the dildo’s moulded off better men that compete with horses for biggest dong. I’d rather people go and hopefully the Durban event improve to the same standard as Joburg’s. If anything you can show off how sexually liberated you are, even though you’re too embarrassed to go to an Adult World…

Go check out the Sexpo site for more details and to book tickets… www.sexpo.co.za

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no salacious headlines… it’s news, not celeb gossip!

I’ve never involved this blog in anything other than my own personal rants or interests. If you want to read topical news, go find a blog or site concerned with it… This is mostly about entertaining people. At least that’s what I intended. Today however, with this post at least, it’s a little different.

Across the SA blog-o-sphere there is much keyboard bashing over the recent arrests of a number local graffiti artists on Sunday morning while they were putting up a piece for a fallen comrade. It’s madness how they’ve been portrayed in the print media. The story was reported on by local newspaper the Natal Mercury, who in a dismal attempt to sell more issues, resorted to typical tabloid trash rag tactics. In other words, they misrepresented the truth to make it juicier to get the masses to buy their stinking recycled toilet paper, and they weren’t the only ones. National paper, The Citizen, are trying to get some of those sales too with an even more ridiculous tales.

I’m in no way linked to graffiti in any way, other than knowing a few painters through mates. Most of them are legitimate artists and designers these days as far as I knew, and I wasn’t even aware that the whole scene had as many as 7 people still actively involved. Although I don’t think putting up an annual memorial for a dead mate on what was believed to be a legal wall is really active… So from the community of hip-hop heads, painters and anyone under the age of 40, it would seem, is condemning the police for hauling these lads in to read them their rights and the salacious newspaper article that reported the events. For once I’m joining in on the parade.

We don’t live in a country where the cops have nothing to do other than harass some ill-behaved youths and the few legitimate spray-can wielding artists out there. This isn’t a fucking utopia where naughty kids are the biggest issue we have! So employing private investigators and using up resources to bust some guys that literally told the world about what they were up to over Facebook is just fucking retarded to anyone with an ounce of brain function. Private investigators gathering evidence against criminals, isn’t that what the cops should be doing? It’s pretty typical of the misspending of funds by authorities though, so no one should be surprised. Then there is the issue of a troop of cops running down graffiti artists when there are serious crimes being committed everywhere, all the time. Begs the question, what exactly do the policeman of this country do?

To add to the circus around us the police force has recently been on a “PR campaign” trying to get sympathy from the public by releasing numbers of cops killed. Don’t get me wrong, anyone being killed is a bad thing. I’m not trying to diminish the loss of life, and I empathise with the people affected by it. It has to be said that  the number of cops killed has been higher in the past, and not much of an attempt by the police force to let it be known was made.The recent cry for sympathy by piggies though, comes almost immediately after a lot of cases where excessive force was used on citizens committing minor offences if any, came to light. There is a general abuse of authority by thugs in uniform all over this country. I don’t think anyone needs to be reminded about how corrupt the fuckers are even at the very top. It seems the cops are as bad as the criminals that the public so desperately fear. Personally, I’d trust a drug dealer sooner than a cop and a graf kid before either of them.

Someone else I wouldn’t trust before a graf kid are the independent press apparently. After the public of SA has defended a “free press” from the politicians that would like nothing more than to see all journalists, who don’t tow the political agenda line, locked up and being corn-holed by real criminals, it’s a huge “Fuck you” from newspapers like the Natal Mercury and City Press who turn around and run stories of such utter bullshit. Natal Mercury’s handling of the public outrage is just salt in the wound really. Check out their Facebook page. Some of their response to people’s comments are fucking childish and outright sarcastic in my opinion. Me thinks the Natal Mercury is overconfident. You do realise you’re starting a fight with some really creative and subversive forces here? I expect they will eat their lies and misinformation pretty soon and learn the hard way not to piss of the public…

In a way of protest and trying to get the truth out about who these guys are and what they actually do, a site has been set up, Gangs of Graffiti. Check it out and show support. It’s about time citizens started standing up for each other, because politicians and cops in this country sure as fuck aren’t sticking up for anyone but themselves.

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pissingblood’s grindhouse classic review: Class of 1984

I’ve decided to take it upon myself to educate you all by doing reviews on movies that I come across. Don’t expect anything about the shit showing in a cinema near you though. I plan on reviewing movies that I either enjoy, or despise so much that I want to tell you how much I hate them. Generally these are going to be B-grade or cult films, but I won’t commit to anything just yet. Pretty much anything with over the top violence and sex will do. Here is the first, a forgotten gem from the year 1982… Class of 1984.

movie poster

Ever seen that movie about the new teacher at an inner city high school that ends up going to war with the school’s resident gang? Yeah, we all have. That premise for a movie has been used and abused since Blackboard Jungle was made back in 1955. The particular movie I’m referring to though is Class of 1984. It’s considered a grindhouse B-movie classic, but it’s almost too well done to fit into that category.

The opening credit’s role to the soundtrack of Alice Cooper’s – I am the Future, pretty inspired choice considering the underlying message in the film, as much as B-grade movies have messages… Stegman (Timothy van Patton), the spoiled, violent, psycho, pretty boy, leader of the Nihilist punk gang, also uses the line when taunting the idealistic music teacher Mr Norris, (Perry King). King plays a teacher that has come back to the once admirable profession after a hiatus. We aren’t told why or for how long but he seems to be out of touch with how things go down in high schools. At his new position at Lincoln High he’s met by his mentor at Lincoln, the gun touting, drunken biology teacher Terry Corrigan played by Roddy Mcdowall, who was the voice of Snowball from Pinky and The Brain, and just so happens to really love his lab rabbits in this movie. Then we’re introduced to his students which include a young, chubby Michael J. Fox, as Arthur and Stegman. Stegman’s gang never leave his side, which make for a disruptive classroom environment, and one that Norris tries to get under control which puts him in the headlights of Stegman and co. The hatred between Stegman and Norris escalates from there, from almost harmless pranks to rape, murder and cars being properly destroyed. For once, punk is actually portrayed pretty accurately, which seldom happens in these types of films. Teenage Head, who it seems drive teenage girls to whip out their tata’s in the middle of mosh pits, make an appearance in the punk club where the gang operates out of one of the back rooms. Where we discover, besides dealing drugs, they pimp out coke whores from suburbia. I wasn’t even aware that was frowned upon. What else do you do with teenage coke whores from suburbia? The implication that all punks are villainous rabble is a bit cliché, but they have the look and music down pretty well.

teenage head in their film debut

Patton, a legitimate Hollywood heavyweight today, does a fine job portraying the “troubled but brilliant youth”, especially in the scene where he beats himself up to frame Mr Norris. He also has some so-bad-they’re-brilliant lines like, “Life… is pain. Pain… is everything.” With dialogue like that, delivered so dramatically you expect a good ol’ fashion fake-blood bath at any moment. The final show down between Norris and the gang, incited by the rape and kidnap of his pregnant wife, drags out a bit, just too much running down corridors that all look the same and not enough blood, guts and gore. I’ll leave you to watch the film to see if Norris manages to save his wife and himself from the clutches of Stegman’s gang.

stegman and gang with mr norris

Compared to other films in the same vein, this movie is actually pretty tame when it comes to graphic violence, nudity and sex. The deaths that occur could have been way more gruesome, and the sex and rape scenes are tame enough for even PG 13 rating today. Even the racism thrown in just to be offensive isn’t that bad. If you’re going to watch this film in the hopes of getting your sick kicks, you might be disappointed. The story and acting by the whole cast are actually good enough to keep you entertained almost to the very end. I’ll rate this movie pretty high for the entertainment value but kind of low on the rest of B-grade attributes that make the genre so epic. Watch it, and enjoy, you can thank me later with sexual favours next time I see you.

worth the kidney disease

Jesus, that light is going to come off and hit me in the fucking head – Was my recurring thought while I stood front and centre during the Fuzigish gig on Saturday. Some spastic keeps jumping up and slapping the low hanging light fitting so it swings violently, threatening to separate itself from the ceiling and crack some poor soul’s head open.

look at that fucking light go!

I hadn’t planned on being at the front; I was going to formulate this piece from the comfort of way in the back behind all the sweaty, crazed punk kids, Fuzi fans, and hipsters. I made the mistake of intervening on seeing the barrier being ripped apart by the crushing wave of bodies, and knowing what happens to bodies when those metal barriers eventually give way, I decided to step in and prop it back up…

read the rest of this here

cure for insomnia comes to SA, but not to the sleepy parts.

Before we start today kids, I’d like to welcome all the new subscribers… Welcome, your day job must really blow…

The most boring band in the world is making the long journey to our Southern tip of Africa… I am so underwhelmed I want to punch myself just to make sure I didn’t suddenly slip into a coma. To even say I dislike the sounds of Coldplay, would be too strong. I can’t have strong feelings about something that bores the living shit out of me… When I think of Coldplay, my mind goes blank and my vision goes gray. They are literally the only band that I can say I thoroughly don’t care about. So following my list system, they are on the “hate list”, but only because I can’t say I like them in the smallest degree. I wish they stuck to playing Coldplay in sleep therapy clinics and in lunatic wards to keep the crazies subdued. Coldplay will pass through my country’s borders like a silent fart and I would not have uttered a word about it, until I noticed that they were not stopping within my city’s limits.

most boring band in the world!

Once again the “little fishing village”, without much fishing, has been sidelined. My heart goes out to all those sufferers of bad taste that will not get the chance to be bored to oblivion by the fatigue mongers that are Coldplay. Despite my revulsion of the idea of attending such an event myself, I do feel a little offended by Big Concert’s lack of consideration for Durban. That sort of crappy made-for-radio, audio prosaic, shit would go down a treat in this motherfucker.  They see fit to send out Lionel Richie, who hasn’t had a career since the 80’s, but nothing more contemporary? Do the guys at Big Concerts and the like, listen to East Coast Radio and think that is an accurate reflection of what the majority of would-be concert goers are listening to in Durban? ECR sounds like its run by a conservative old woman. Listening to that station is like going through your mothers CD collection. I won’t even start on the boring as fuck DJ’s who if they’re on-air persona’s are anything to go by are some of the most annoying people in the country. I haven’t listened to East Coast Radio in years. I’ve probably heard it on someone’s radio, but it didn’t even register and stayed firmly in the background along with the hum of air conditioners and woman talking about their feelings. They may even have changed their policies since I last paid any kind of attention to the station, but I highly doubt it. That sort of thing would probably be a bigger event in this narcoleptic city than if the Bluff suddenly broke off from the mainland and became an independent hostile state. It’s suffice to say, anyone under the age of 40 who listens to East Coast Radio is probably in a coma or being subjected to cruel and unusual punishment.

the guy who makes coffee at East Coast Radio

Back to what I was saying, I noticed a lot of Durbanites bitching and griping on Big Concerts Facebook page about no tour date set for Coldplay in Durban. I also noted a lot of people from other cities saying it’s their own fault they don’t get big acts. I’ll agree it is Durban’s fault. The average Durbanite has almost no interest in music from what I can tell. If it’s not played in a nightclub by some toss who calls himself a DJ extraordinaire, when really all he’s doing is playing mp3s off his laptop, then most of you motherfuckers won’t have anything to do with it. It’s no surprise that the music at Splashy Fen, easily the biggest festival we have on this side of the Republic, has become mostly secondary to majority of the revellers. You could blast 5FM for 5 days and most of the attendees wouldn’t notice.

Now I don’t mean to criticize you Durban. Well, I do, but it’s to help you see the error of your ways as much as it is to insult you, if not more. I like Durban. I like how unpretentious and chilled it is. I like the hot summers and mild winters. I even like the unofficial nickname of Dirtbin. Surely though we could do with a concerted effort on all our parts to raise our general populations’ interest in things, not sport or drinking, a few notches. So even when a craptastic band like Coldplay come to our fair country, they consider stopping in to say, “Hi!” instead of only the likes of Bon Jovi and his utterly un-super, Superman tattoo.