My Favourite Pisser Offer

Montle Morosi has been at it again...this South African should be allowed to go places espousing the virtues of South Africa. Anyone that gets anyone to write something like this moan (detailed below) is doing something right.

ricky says:

May 6, 2011 at 6:16 pm

wts his email add?

why does he have to go write such a horrible peice about afrika burns?

this is what i amlost posted

first off i would like to share with people that montle came with us as his girfreind was part of our”family” and we welcomed him with open arms into our camp at the very last minute,

if you were interested in afrika burns you would have got a cheap tcket,

big point here is that montle in fact tried to sneak in and i had to insist that he didnt,i caught him hiding in the back of my bakkie as we drove in,,,he obviously didnt understand the point of afrika burns,,karma .gifting etc,,,wich fuking works !!! and montle experienced it,i know i saw!!

but then karmicly or whatever you want to call it,i got a spare ticket as there was confusion on AB part when sorting out our camps tickets,so in fact montle didnt have to pay anything,,!!
his first gift of afrika burns ,and you would of thought he learned a lesson,,and he did,
he was nice to everyone,he was smiling and it seemed to all of us that he loved every second,in fact i know he did he told me several times,
but then he goes and writes another one of his fluff pecies,????
why?
what for montle?
why do you like pissing ppl off and hurting ppl?
and dont say,,ahh bru its just writing,
cos if it is just writing for you,,,then pls stay the fuk away from me
cos this is not the first time you have acted like a brat and offended me,
at the festival he expressed his hippie inside by expressing his complete love for everyone and everything to me (even though he was high!) it doesnet matter
this pecie is bullshit its another bullshit mahala sensiliation for haters to hate on
andy,again youve added another peice of crap out,,
i mean crap because its made up,not triue and superficial

montle why didnnt you investigate and interview a organiser ,as you would of then found out all of the above
in fact montle we got some money as an art grant for “we like it here” wich means montle you got some money!!
and montle the hippies cleaned and worked more then you,i saw you a few times pretending to be doing something,

montle youre a nice person in real life, why do you do this stuff over and over,?
youve offended ppl i love and me,for the last time!

but yet ,last time i forgave you,in fact more then that ,you came to afrika burns with me!
we all weant out of our way to make you have a special time and be part of something beutifull
if you cant see that…

then fuk off!

(unique spelling all Ricky's own)


CLICK here for the gushy stuff live and unadulterated on Mahala. Watch how the comments just keep going and going and going... Montle gets South Africa talking.


Pic jacked from Queen Piimp, her Webface here.

You & Me & Everyone We Should Know

Gaborone's #1 Ladies Opera House has gone through several reincarnations in order to stay relevant and make a meaningful contribution to the Gaborone social scene. The most recent being the introduction of a Farmer’s Market of sorts. The affair is rustic and laidback, it allows for artisan makers of foods to come share their wares in a loosely arranged bunch of tables. The atmosphere is chummy as everyone casts a lazy eye over their neighbour’s wares while chatting to a customer or two.

This is exactly what the night market, called You and Me and Everyone We Know, is like. The difference is that this market is all the way in Cape Town and that it features an arty serving of wares. You might run into social and youth lifestyle journalist Maria McCloy with her collection of vintage clothes mainly for women, and some accessories and African print hats and caps by Babatunde, or Yang Zhao serving Chinese dumplings, with Dj Soulo Starr gracing the decks with an eclectic set of breaks from jazz standards that fuelled a thousand Hip hop songs you probably never heard of. The venue is in the courtyard of an independent cinema called The Labia Theatre on Orange Street in Cape Town’s City Bowl. The whole deal is a real Voltron of art, music, friends, strangers, niche lifestyle choices and recycling of many clothes and accessories that need a new pretty young thing to pimp out.

Malibongwe ‘Mali’ Tyilo, originator of fashion blog site Skattie, What Are You Wearing? is on hand with a cocktail (from Rudie’s bar set up next to the Piiimp Dumplings cooking on hot plates one and two) a camera and a quick smile to snap interesting stuff for his blog or inspiration towards his other job a fashion buyer for Woolworths South Africa. “You know... things happen,” responds Mali to a question about a dinner he was supposed to host that evening. Another fashion stylista is Zolitah Magengelele the former fashion buyer is now making fresh for Danish publications on the regular, ”I’d love to come to Botswana to do story!” she says seriously in response to an idle query about doing just that.

Back at the Piiimp dumpling stand Yang laughs, “Oh I just sold them, for ten rand more!” She had promised me her last dumplings but chose to make a profit instead. Yang then buys a round of tequilas from Rudie to soothe the issue. “Capitalist shit babes!” Yang says again something her piimp in crime Maphuti Morule backs up. Besides hooking up the only hot snacks table at the night market the ladies (along with Anthea Knows Best Poulos – don’t ask) make up Pii-imp Rap Crew, real designation unknown but consider them rappers and they are hot.

“The night market is a space to feature some fashion and art and to get people talking to stimulate some debate... while also making some money,” said market organiser Adel Snyders earlier in the day when the trestle tables and fashion racks were being assembled. The adoring public all find something to get into with one excited trio of young black and fabulous twenty something’s squealing, “This is SO Martha!” when they picked up some vintage shades; just to clarify, they meant Martha their friend not the international queen of middle class American genteel entertaining and dinning accessories, Martha Stewart. That would just be too good, but go on tell You and Me and Everyone we Know all about it.

Opening image from Mali.

Jou mas se Kaapstad

Dropping into Cape Town has always been emotional for me, even the first time I ever went there with a bus load of strangers. We were confronted by a drug sniffing police dog at a rest stop in one of the mountain passes about an hour out of Cape Town. Where we come from we have never used dogs against people (unless the person jumped over your fence when we were sleeping at night) so it was quite a rude awakening to have an animal be a potential accuser. Where we come from, an animal has never accused a human being... it’s always the other way around. Welcome to Cape Town.

Be that as it may that MILF, Cape Town, had taken my nesting virginity soon after I got there, this was the city where I had first decided to break my nomadic tendencies; got my first creative job; worked for the first time in a service industry; experienced institutionalised racism where people where so unaware you’d think they considered it their privilege; fought the system in a long sustained war...and lost; almost met my wife; fell in love again and again... and again.

The good the bad and the fuckin’ ugly all visited me in Cape Town in equal amounts. I lived to tell the tale, not totally unscathed even though I smiled through most of it. Boy did I pay, if trading in all the notebooks documenting your life and next generation ideas count as payment. A huge blue trunk with my sister’s name is lurking around that city somewhere, in it there used to be books from my grandfather’s study, books from different parts of the world that had made the journey with me to the Motherless City, film negatives spanning my life until I was 12 or 13 years old... I could go on, however I’d rather not since I am trying to feel like it wasn’t too big a price to pay.

But you know I got some change back from the Cape Town... so I really shouldn’t feel too badly about the difference. What was the change...? That’s about 60 rolls of undeveloped film documenting my life from when I was barely legal to when I was old enough to know better. Who knows what has survived the decade long storage, it will be interesting to find out. That was the coins, as for the notes... I got to keep friendships that have survived the distance, the different paths our lives have taken... and now, new friendships as well. One in particular stands out, something began in cyber space and finally “consummated” in Cape Town with a physical meeting after a year or so.

One more fantastic bit of priceless is just the old Cape ways, they don’t seem to have left after all despite the flashy new buildings. The community spirit which just wells up and sprouts selflessness, or botho in the Tswana way not the oft dissected but never quite defined ubuntu. I spent time with Maria Podesta just doing “manly things” like setting up her trestle table and randomly filling her vintage clothes on her rack for the You Me & Everyone We Know night market. It turned out to be a good thing too since she hooked me up with a Babatunde trilby, something I had always wanted since I saw it on Tiisetso’s blog yonks ago. There it was that thing that kept me in the Cape for all those years, something I wondered why a gang of people wanted to exploit in the most negative way possible. That feeling that you could actually work for fresh air because it felt good doing it and the fulfilment couldn’t quite be paid for in cash... though a Babatunde did the job quite nicely thank you.

One last one

Incident. Some health nut was knocked over by a car when I turned the corner into Kloofnek. It seems the cyclist was belting down the hill at an amazing pace, and the inevitable happened. Some one turned into the road and its all history now. He survived, the cyclist I mean. He was writhing feebly on the road as I walked past. The faces were amazing, such still-lifes. At accidents its pointless looking at the centre of attraction, that is boring and all too real. Look at the different perspectives surrounding the mess, there you see it all.

Shock, obviously.

Relief, I often wonder why, is it because they don't know the person, or the person has survived, or it wasn't as bad as they hoped it was...?

Sadness, again obviously.

Glee, kids are just plain sick.

Anger, so futile in most cases and an inappropriate emotion. Accidents will happen, circumstance or our own stupidity, why get angry I wonder.

Stoicism, this one is the best. The know-it-alls, as if they have foreseen this exact thing. I got stopped by a shop owner wearing this one very well. He told me all about it, where he was when it happened, what he was doing and the time exactly. He even kindly pointed out the angry looking American customer who ran out of his shop to go see what was going on. He gave me a history of speeders down that stretch of road, and ejaculated an indignant "Something must be done about this!" I made all the right noises bid him goodbye after a decent amount of time and shuffled off home.

That cyclist just might ride again, people are built a lot tougher then we suspect that and fact that the medical people took only seven minutes to get to him.

I do go on at times especially when I can't decided what it is I should be doing. Hope it made your day shorter, that way I will know I did something positive today.

Another Life and Times hit...

Pic from Zapapedia (click! you will like this)

A bit of this n that

I went back to my treasure trove of old emails. I keep saying I have lived as my standard comment when I see the sort of words I share with peeps. Maricon! I love my life... what I have lived of it anyway; I wonder where its gona take us next... me, myself and I and everyone that knows us.

Here is a goodie... "I really do miss you, the slight of logic you used to pull on me in our conversations. OK maybe it was me missing the point intetionaly so I could listen to you talk some more... I could have been in love with the sight of your voice moving your lips over those words..."
Taken from 'World Famous Fitch' (Feb-20-03)

How about this one... "Don't you miss the hand writing of someone you know? I think of it as another side to someone I know... there is something exciting about words tumbling along a page, sometimes flowing, sometimes sprawling, but always moving. I was a great letter writer once, then people found out and demand became overwhelming... or I became lazy... I forget which."
Taken from 'This is Turkey' (Feb-20-03)

Ooooh... "Attention. There is one thing in life I am never too cheap to pay, and that is attention. I am generous with the quality. I lavish it for no reason on the most mundane or captivating of things and people. Oh I sometimes use it as a form of restraint on babies and like minded people. It works like a charm and costs me nothing."
Taken from the 'Space and Time" folder (Jul-15-04)

Filthy moment, only the best kind... "A bedside lamp between your legs, a frantic search for an elusive thread... stuff of legends. There must be more amusing anecdotes like this. Extraordinary things happening to ordinary people... if we bend it a little... extraordinary people happening to ordinary things. I like that better."
Taken from the 'Space and Time" folder (Jul-15-04)

Thankfully there is tons where that came from. Another time...

Pic by C

What I know

Right... one of those rare updates, and this one is worth it even if it is just to roast a few old friends and some new friends. The idea was to throw it up in the mag I used to edit, however... long story with no moral or good intentions so lets let that sleeping dog stay coma. It may even go a step further actually, hope y'all don't mind and I am posting faces and names... but the point of the exercise is to highlight how brand Botswana is doing amongst my contemporaries. Unfortunately I missed going to eKasi and I am sure it would have been an eye opener on many levels. And so with less ado I give you... The 1 thing I know about Botswana by some young creatives in Jozi.















VUYO - independent publishing professional
I don’t know much about Botswana I am very curious about it, but I have to admit to being semi-ignorant of it and its history. I know a fair amount about Botswana. One of the first things I learnt about Botswana is that the Pula is worth more than the Rand.


LERATO - writer
Its god damn hot! There is a lot of sand, and there is no suburbs or hoods its all one thing... like a residential area.












VANESSA - advertising account executive
AIDS! My mother warned me,” Yoh ko Botswana o be careful ngwanaka, o be careful. O useh Choice! E seng ye perpole o dirise ya ko cliniking.” Other than that I have been reading books about it, its a huge expansive landscape.




GLADWYN - designer
Nothing! I know there are animals there and the desert. I know there is Gaborone. What I know about it is that there is no hoods and everything is like in the middle you know...?









SEBATHA – student bcom law
Botswana has the death penalty, interesting enough I also know that... I am not sure if its a rumour, but they throw you off a cliff. Tswanas don’t mess around hey, they don’t waste time or resources like that, they do it the effective way, they chuck you off a cliff. And I know the currency is pretty good... that’s what I know about Botswana.

ONTHATILE - photographer
I know that Botswana is safe, you don’t need burglar proofs and what not. So I heard you can leave your doors totally unlocked.


KABOMO - poet
I have done three festivals in Botswana, and not to dis my country, when you say poet poems to Botswana people you feel like they care about the work. In Joburg, sometimes you feel like they care about the hype around the coolness of poetry like, “O Kabomo is on stage, look how he is dressed, look how he is raising his hand.” So afterward people talk about everything else except the content. And every time I have come to Botswana the conversations I have with Botswana people after I perform its always questions about the content. "So you said this what inspired it; What were you thinking...?" And for me as a writer that’s the most beautiful thing ever so I love reading my poems to Botswana people. I guess that’s the one thing I love about it.

Yeah we love it too... don't we. Keep a sharp ear out for a special Podtape featuring sound bites from this snapterview. *hides

Bite me

True Love. This is an odd little story written by Anastina Goransdotter Lindal (now Zack). It is so natural to me I fell for it the minute I started reading it. I finally adapted it years later and have shot it, but never finished editing it. I showed a rough cut and that was it.

Sliding into second gear... the story is about a man and woman who seem to know each other and should by all means have a thing for each other but don't seem to know how to progress... and well they do end up falling for each other, but that first kiss is something so different my jaw dropped and my heart was in my throat. He bit her arm and took out a chunk of flesh and she completely understood it to be an unmistakable sign of his true feelings for her.

That my friend is the shit right there.. what is a motherfucking kiss anyway? It looks good in French films and bad in porn films, it is the first of our many mis-communications between or among the sexes that lead to the battle of... It is a form of greeting in many cultures, it is the approved signature for love and infidelity alike, it is the gateway for a million and ten different bad sexual encounters, it is the modern day Tower of Babel. What the fuck is in a kiss to signal the start of a relationship? Fuck all.

Imagine the day, the day you have to kiss the bank teller in order to get money out, and they say, "Uh-uh, you are not Lerato, who are you?" It will never happen, so what is in a kiss I ask you? I would take a bite over a kiss any day, deep, painful and bloody. Then I would fully understand the commitment I was making, and if I ever perchance "forgot", the beautiful and unique scar will always be there to remind me, even after death do us part. And so it goes...

Email excerpt - July 30 2004

Pic - Body art by dSetia