Let The Games Begin!!!

Good afternoon my sweet angels.


It has come to our attention that the SA blog awards are around the corner...
Now we have been going for a only a short while, and do not exactly expect to feature, but you know what, we are going to give it a bash... I mean, what do we have to lose right?


So please vote for us. Get your flat mates, siblings, friends, anyone, to hop on the train and let’s take this to a new level.


You can follow the link on the right hand side of our page, or click on the picture below...
We are only trying for one category, BEST GROUP BLOG, so please stick to that one.
They will then send you a confirmation email, and you have to follow THAT link in order for your vote to go through, so please let's try our absolute best to follow through with this whole process. Take some ritalin if you have too...


I repeat, BEST GROUP BLOG !

What's the Name of this Fucking Game?.... (it's called fuck me)

Holidays transform people into their rawest state of being. We become wild and free, restless and hungry for passion, fun, life! It’s the time when people let go of their inhabitions and moral beliefs and follow what one can only call, an animalistic calling. Evolution seems to take a backseat and we are driven by pure pleasure and desire. The holidays took hold of me, cornered me in and turned me against my moral instinct and intelligent decision making skills. They pushed me so far back into that corner, that one would have to squint at an angle to make out any human qualities at all, because all that prevailed was an animal. On the loose, the prowl, uncaged and feisty.

It’s been a good 4 weeks since the holidays have ended, yet I can’t say I have returned to my human self. The animal still lurks, still hunting. These last 4 weeks have been contorted, shifted by large amounts of alcohol and men. Is it time to buckle down and realise I’ve gotten out of hand? Or is this the onset of a whole different life all together?

Through these distorted weeks I have met the most incredible and most obscure people ever. I have come to realise that our specie is truly ‘effed up. To give you an indication of just how screwed we all are, I have decided to compile a list of events that took place, regarding sexual activities and the how some people “get off” in the strangest of ways. I have had them all, ranging from nerd to jock, to punk, to emo, to fucking weird.... This is what I like to call my “Mystical Male Encounters:”

First of all it began with the band-man. Call me a groupie if you may, but there is nothing sexier than a guy playing guitar and singing strangled-up, nonsense lyrics that just get your nipples hard and your panties moist. He had the charm, he had the right words, he had the intellect, but he didn’t have the looks. He lay back, relaxed and let me take control. Just the way I like it. It was refreshing, and he was very much above the size spectrum, but the problem was the location... His parent’s house, in the nursery/day care his mother runs. On the floor, surrounded by dolls, colouring-in books, toys, and stinking of baby food and old shit diapers. This wouldn’t be so bad if it was our only choice. It was only when I went to wee that I realised he actually had a private lounge area, dining room, T.V room, fucking kitchen even, or his own goddamn bedroom!... ANYTHING would have been better than the room with clowns and miniature chairs and tables. Fetish perhaps?

Then we had the guy with short-man-syndrome. The shit stirrer that just loves getting into heated arguments and fights, even when he can’t do jack shit to protect himself. When a guy is obnoxious and genuinely arrogant, I get the feeling of just wanting to fuck the attitude out of him!... and I did. Because like most ‘big-talkers’ they aint backing shit, they don’t have many friends and they never get laid. It was quite hilarious actually- he came as he entered and tried to pretend it didn’t happen, hoping I wouldn’t notice his deflating dick. But I did.. I felt sorry for him so I lay there and humoured him for a while as he pounded heavily onto me, and I say ‘onto’ me and not ‘into me’ because there was nothing going in, just his waist slamming my hip bones. I couldn’t stand the torture any more so I rolled him off of me and sent him to the couch. Lame.

Then... ah... the nerd... Picked him up in a dark dingy club. He was motherless and I was horny. Went back to his place where I found out just how dorkish he really was. Boring garage type room literally had the corrugated iron roof and everything, mouldy carpet and it seemed as if the FHM poster girls were his only interaction with the female kind. But he was cute and kind (as all nerds are generally described.) Till this day I am sure he lost his virginity to me. It was like a Duracell Bunny hopping around, not knowing what the fuck to do, or how to react for that matter, scrambling for the condoms like I’m going to evaporate any second and then not even knowing how to put it on. He touched me as if I were a project at the science fair, rattling “typers’ fingers.” He was the perfect engineer, wore glasses, skinny, pasty white and not even potentially funny. But I like to think I taught him a few things.   

From nerd we move along to ze Porra! Dark wind-swept hair that seemed perfectly gelled to his head, as if it were a helmet, thick sculpted brows and a wide, pearly smile that read “sly man whore” all over it. His brightly shining grin was emphasized by his deep olive complexion. He had the accent and the moves, and called me “his cow-girl.” It was like a scene out of Havana Nights. It’s a pity how pretty pictures can be ruined with words... Every time he opened his mouth with a “oh Bebi, I like that.” “Oh Bebi, come a liedel bit closer!” “OH BEBI you’re soo Haat!” I wanted to chunder! It quickly turned from Havana Nights to –this could be a fucking pool boy, Gigolo named Rafael and I could be a male gorilla, he would still fuck me! Not to mention the distinct smell of Lays Spring Onion on his breath. God, there is nothing worse than going home with a greasy perve. Hung like a horse though!

As time ticks, we reach the punk, just an older more mature version, but a punk non-the-less. He was one of those mutual friends, easy fuck buddies. Very friendly, would party with him anytime, great guy as a whole and its awesome waking up in a hospitable, none- awkward environment. The only problem isà He is pretty fucking nasty! We were going at it for quite a while, over an hour to be honest. But with the friction from the condom, things started getting pretty dry. I stopped him, (mid-doggy) and suggested he get some lube. When he apologised for not having any, I just shrugged and got comfortable for a good night’s sleep. 10 minutes later he tapped me on the shoulder and said: “uhm, I don’t have lube, but I have slym!”... “Slym?...Whats that?”....He coughed and said: “like I have phlegm in my throat, we can use that?” Now fucking excuse me siffo! But this is not a fucking porno, what makes anyone think that a chick would want some guys virus infected, lung oyster up their vagina??! Jesus, game over!

As a committed party animal, one of the perks is fluttering around, hooking up and then bouncing off to the next, smiling and batting my lashes vibrantly. After an eventful night of boy hopping I met the Average Joe. A polite Afrikaner with smiley eyes and a naughty face. His approach was far more traditional and less drunked than many in the past. Bought me drinks, danced all night and invited me up for some red-wine. I guess I fucked him just because he was so normal, and so quaint. The night was long, I dominated as usual, but he knew how to handle me. We made our way through an array of positions as he played some sweet melodies on iTunes. Very courtly of him, I could tell he recently came out of a long term relationship, which he did. He was one of the lucky ones who had been previously trained... thanks girl. I guess I was his re-bound, and I digged it.

I could continue down the list, but that would just be slutty... ;) There’s a little taster of my recent experiences regarding the odd screw. If you have any really strange Mystical Male/Female Encounters, tell us... we want to hear all about it.

Queen <3               

The Truth Unveiled:

There are some things in life that are just too good to be true. One of these things just happens to be unveiling the truth of a best kept secret that has had you blindfolded for years. Now I don’t really have a talent – that’s no secret – so finding out that someone else’s talent is a fake, is a real brightener to a shitty day. Especially finding out that the greater part of our western worlds role models, idols, and musical influences have been feeding off of our naivety. In fact, that’s not entirely true, they aren’t feeding off our naivety, they just haven’t shared with us the secret, because they know, that if we know what they know, we could all become multi-million dollar pop stars, resulting in them losing their ‘well-deserved’ status as a diva to yet another mediocre person. I have been meaning to share this with you for a while my dear music playing friend, so go on, have a look - the one way ticket to producing a multi-platinum song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5pidokakU4I


I suppose if we look at it further, they NEEDED to keep this secret, because if every Tom, Dick, and Harry could produce a number one hit, there would be no more number one hits, because every single one of them would be just as good as the last. Therefore ‘great’ would become ‘mediocre’ and the abundance of great music would wipe the magic out of music, sending it into a pit of irrelevance and despair. It would be referred to as ‘The great loss of music’ and would become yet another one of the worlds many problems, being right up there with global warming and the poaching of elephants. Therefore I am only sharing this with YOU, because if I had to include this in my plans of world domination, it would be not a triumph, but a tragedy.


          Alice xxx