Posts Tagged ‘people’

20 Things I Find Sexy

February 16, 2012

My last few blogs have been pretty darn serious, and thought now might be a good time to get back to the fun element of this blog.

It’s no secret it doesn’t take much to turn a guy on, and any guy who says otherwise is lying. However, we all have our favourite things we look out for, whether it be on a woman or guy. I don’t judge as we know. Maybe for some people it’s something someone does, or what they wear, heck it could even be something they say right?

Here’s my list of things that I find sexy, use it, don’t use it.

1. A pair of legs on a woman. DEAD SEXY. Of course I understand women can’t all have legs like Stacey Keibler, but I will always notice a legs on a woman first.

2. Dark Hair. On her head only of course….well, I can make exceptions.

3. Dark skin. Olive skinned woman or nicely toned Indian, South American women will forever be my weakness, of course this combined with the above Dark Hair = perfection.

4. Water. For some reason I find this the sexiest of all the elements. Taking a bath or shower with someone, getting caught in the rain, even a women drenched like a rat has a certain appeal. Anyone made love in water? I only know what I learned watching ShowGirls.

5. Tattoos on a woman. Kill me, kill me know. A bigger arm/shoulder tattoo is a bell ringer for me. Love that! Not so mad about tramp stamps and tribals though…so be warned, even I have boundries.

6. Athletic or sporty women are a big YES when it comes to sex appeal. As long as they are not the Serena Williams type, then I’m all for it. I like a girl who doesn’t play sports like a girly girl. And girl who supports my love of sports is a close second.

7. Pop Culture Geek. Love comics, movies, TV and such? well if you can hold a conversation about Zombies and know who the Green Arrow is, then its kismet.

8. Older women. Within reason.

9. Younger women. Within reason.

10. Girls who wear earphones. When someone walks past me or stands next to me in a lift wearing earphones, I can’t help but to watch them. Mouthing the words, or a slight reserved sway to the beat is sexy as hell.

11. Stripper Boots. Its a guy thing.

12. Bridges. Not sure where this came from, maybe its a movie thing, but walking on a bridge with a girl has such a peaceful element of sexy to it.

13. Holding hands. Especially on bridges. I find the simple act of holding hands sexy. The best way to test if there is electricity between two people.

14. Girl carrying coffee, like from a coffee place. Again, it could be a movie thing; it could be a New York thing, but it’s cetainly my thang.

15. School Uniform. Some people have the Princess Leia fantasy, or the nurse fantasy, but the uniform does it for me. You know what I love about school girls? I get older, they stay the same age. Yes they do, yes they do.

16. Class. Even to the point of being a snob. I find a classy woman the sexiest thing on earth. Cate Blanchett fits this mould nicely.

17. Accents. I think this is perhaps a more common one. Spanish/French/Italian/Australian/British all work for me. Even if it’s a fake one.

18. Shoulders. Like legs, a good pair of shoulder, and a woman who isn’t afraid to show them off is a sure thing.

19. Girls who wear t-shirts featuring rock bands from the 70s or 80s… and can actually name all the members in the band.

20. Other people’s wives.

What do you have on your list?


Live as The Burg. Die as The Burg

April 2, 2011

I’ve always been one to mind my own business. I tend to keep my head down when I walk…perhaps occasionally staring at a beautiful woman, but never ever have I been one to go up to someone and start a conversation.

However, for some reason (I have my theories), I’m ALWAYS the person someone else comes up to and engages in a debate.

If I go alone to a movie, concert, sporting event or other function, I’m the one who people turn and look at. Even in shopping centers people turn at stare. My mom always asks me why they do that, and I always just say they must think I’m famous.

Sometimes its understandable, to a point, because I’m wearing a sports team’s shirt which is the universal ice breaker. Or perhaps its a unique tshirt that attracts someone’s attention. If that happens, I suck it up and without being rude, engage in a brief conversation with whomever makes the approach.

Today however, I had to deal with an incident that happens far too often in my life.

You see, for a lack of a better term, I tend to have a unique appearance. I always have. Even in high school there was always something that brought attention to me…such as my slicked back hair…which earned me a nickname from the geniuses in the year ahead of me of “Slick”.

Till this day, each and everyday I always have a different hairstyle. I used to have a different colour every few months too.

I always wear something unique. Whether it be a bandanna, a hat, a trenchcoat, my legendary pant, a see through shirt, a white suit, a fake snake skin shirt. Whatever suits my mood.

One of the things I hate about this country, and I truly do, is that there is very much a close mindedness about individuality.

You can really dress us and walk down the high street, or go to the mall, or just dress good for dressing good sake.

There is always someone who will judge you or make a comment, or compare you to someone trending.

Years ago when I had corn rows in my hair, I was constantly called Beckham. Cos you know, that one time he came to South Africa, he had it done.

I went through a phase where I wore eyeliner and a smart shirt and tie. I was called one of The Parlotones.

Now, because I have a loooong beard I am constantly called Amla. This, for my international readers, is a reference to a national cricket player named Hashim Amla, who happens to have a long beard too, because he is Muslim.

In the last 2 weeks, I think I have been called this at least 8 times.

Today was by 2 drunken Afrikaans guys in a shopping center. Who started insulting me further because I gave them an unimpressed stare. (To be fair, my p*ssed off look is legendary, and has been featured in many films).

It just saddens me that people always feel compelled to mock and ridicule someone just because they themselves are not an individual.

I do believe if I lived in New York or London, I wouldn’t stand out as much, which makes me want to be there even more, just so I can be left alone.

I’ve dealt with it all my life, because I’ve never thought twice about trying something different. Sometimes its a popular choice, other times not, but I’ve always felt I’ve that a good head on ones shoulders and a pair of balls will go a long way.

If this means putting up with drunken concert goers throwing beer on me because I won’t humour them, mean kids who try and impress their friend by insulting me when they walk past, parents who judge me, and colleagues who feel the need to insult me to appear witty, then so be it.

Live as The Burg. Die as The Burg.

My 100th Blog post: XoXoXo – My Feelings on Hugs & Kisses

February 10, 2011

As promised, this is a follow on blog to my recent dating dilemmas.

It was initially going to be posted as an amendment to my 99th blog post, but after writing it, it has all the qualities of a post worthy of being my 100th blog post.

One of the key things, especially in the process of any sort of budding romance is not just the ability to know when to make a move, but also how to read the outcomes of those moves.

It could be a simple hug, holding hands, touching of an arm, or even you are advanced enough a kiss of some sort.

All things I am very unfamiliar to. Let me explain why.

I come across to most people as a not a very physically affectionate kind of guy. Which, to a point is true, the reality however, is that affection is something I crave more than anything in this world.


I’m not really a hugger. Not because it’s invading my space or anything like that, but all my memories of hugs are solely based on being a kid, and having to endure endless embraces at funeral of my dad and brother growing up. From complete strangers, to family member you would rather avoid, for months (and years), I was forced to associated these’s crushing squeezes as a sign of sympathy, with the words of “everything is going to be alright”, which is was clearly NOT going to be. I never really got caring hugs from my mom either, and if I did it was normally after a huge fight which after apologies was a sign that we had move passed that argument (until the next one).

Now as an adult, I find myself mystified by the simple process of a hug. I generally don’t hug and kiss people on their birthdays, or as congratulatory show of affection. It’s very rare that I will huge people in greeting. With the odd exception of a friend I haven’t seen in years. However even then, I’m almost to the point of panic. Some are easy to get away with as there’s never much more behind it than a “hello”, but its pure torture with someone I’m really interested in.

A case in point is a friend I saw a few days ago after a long long time. Our greeting hug was slightly awkward, naturally as we hadn’t really seen each other in person for an age. However, the goodbye hug was so different; it was a strong caring hug that has all the feelings of a friendship renewed. The truth is, I didn’t want to let go, as I never get these sort of hugs. It meant something bigger to me. Yet for her, I’m sure it’s the kind of hug she gives all her friends, but for that brief embrace, it was just the two of us.

Holding Hands

There are few things in this world that make me jealous, however seeing a couple holding hands can at times reduce me to tears. It’s the simplest form of affection between a guy and girl (yes, depending on your sexual preference) and yet something I may never really feel.

A few years ago, I went out with a girl who is was dead keen on, and the evening ended with us walking out the restaurant and she out of her own held my hand. (I think she had some wine, so that clearly worked in my favour). The electricity that flowed through me at that exact moment is something I will always remember. We went out several times after that, and nothing ever progressed further than the holding hands stage before things fell apart. But each and every time we held hands…I felt, for lack of a better word, human.

For me, this is probably the best “sign” that a girl is interested in me, so please, if we ever go out, and you are interested in me…take my hand, I’ll do the rest.


Eeeew kissing spreads cooties.

Just joking…kissing is obviously the most intimate of all things, and even hookers would agree.

When it comes to casual hello kissed, or birthday wishes, I tend to always awkwardly miss the person’s cheek and almost kiss her ear, or mercifully fresh air (that at least makes me feel European). On my own birthday, I am almost always armed with a strategically held cup of hot coffee to avoid anyone coming in for the kiss.

My kiss tally for the last 10 years is probably around the 4 or 5 people mark. One was for a movie role, so that doesn’t count.

I like to consider myself a good kisser, and the world leader in pecks on the cheek. The reason for this is because when I do kiss, its filled with passion and emotion unlike anyone you may ever meet. You WILL go weak at the knees, and that’s a guarantee.

When I see a girl I’m attracted to, I almost never think about what it would be like to “get her in the sack”, or what she looks like nekkid, but I do undoubtedly think what it would be like to kiss her…because THAT’S where the magic is.

Of course, this blog succeeds most in telling the world what a loser I am when it comes to women, and highlights my immaturity when it comes to love and relationships, but hey, I’ve made myself look worse right?

All these small moments in life, are what so many people take for granted in their relationships, and at the risk of sounding preachy, I really don’t think they understand why they are so lucky, and this is why most relationships are over so quickly (of course they just move onto the next person).

What I’m really trying to say with all this is, that all I really want out of love and life is to feel.
To feel loved,
To feel close,
To feel wanted
and maybe… every once in a while to feel some boobies.

Good(bye) blog!

January 19, 2010

Conspicuous by my absence, I was seriously considering just walking away from this blog cold turkey…heck it wouldn’t be the first time id walked away from a blog i’d invested so much time and effort it.

Last night however, i had a good think about it, and felt that i’d accomplished a lot in the short time I’ve been running this blog, and felt it deserved a proper send off. Explanation if you will.

The intention of the blog was to always speak the truth about the irritation and idiocracy (yes it’s a word…based on the movie of the same name) of people in general.

However, somewhere along the line it became a forum of anger and fruitless loathing. Each and every passing day I am in this country, I am becoming more and more hateful. That’s the truth. I am not proud to be a South African. The country is NOT getting better. I do not feel safe here, and I by no means see a future for myself here.

In truth. I checked out a long time ago. My mind and soul have been in New York for some time now, and I’m official on the path to get my body there.

There in lies the problem for a lot of you people (friends and haters). You question my decision, my dreams, my ambitions. As a South African you are naturally wrapped up in your own sense of self importance. Your narrow mindedness is something you unwittingly try and enforce on others.

There is a bigger world out there. There are bigger dreams out there.
There are dreamers out there. And I am one of the biggest.
I’ve become a much harder person over the last two years, and there is a reason for that, but ive also learned a helluva lot more perspective.

As I try and deal with my frustration of the people of South Africa and the country as a hole (pun intended), I find myself becoming a ticking time bomb. This blog has slowly become an easy way for me to complain and fester internally as a result.

This is unfair on both you and I.

I have thus made a decision to not let these irritations get the better of me. People are people. And if you don’t understand my stances on these things, I feel no need to converse with you.

This does not mean however that I will go about my daily business and fake a smile.
I will simply just cut those things out my life. People. Places. Situations.

I’ve distanced myself from social networks to a huge degree, and feel that I was letting myself because more about reactions to what I said, rather than about the point of what I was saying, because let’s be honest, most people are sheep who can easily be lead into a moral trap. Where is the fun in that?

Now before you naysayers jump on the “he’s being negative” band wagon, let me tell you where my focus is.

Through this blog I have amazingly been able to I recognize my gifts, my talents, my road to success. I will be turning my writing focus onto more creative projects, storytelling, projects that are both original and not influenced by hate.

I will however also continue my other blog, The New York one, because I feel very strongly about my journey to get there, and the obstacle that will try and stop me.

People say I write best when I’m angry and ticked off about something. I used to think that…but now I realize I write best when I’m passionate.

If you think this blog is simply an arrogant rant. You may be right…but the point is…i am better than this country and a helluva lot of people in it, and I deserve to be happier than this, but no longer will people dictate my happiness. The country and its people doesn’t deserve that power over me.