Got one of those really fucking stupid emails yesterday:

See below plus my response.

Order Now - Brutal Fruit!!
Hi Every One
As part of a joint advertising campaign the kind people at SAB (in conjunction with Carst) are offering you 12 cases of your favorite SAB beverage!All you have to do is forward this email to 10 friends and CC < > natalier@carst.co.za and it will be logged.A member of the Carst team will contact you within a week to organise delivery of the beverage of your choice!Please note that staff member's of Carst and SAB cannot apply for this offer.Please note, this is not another of the usual emails regarding free offers, this one really works! SAB wish to reward SA citizens for their continued supportfor South African Breweries.Mr Kevin Carst MD Carst EnterprisesSA

Response:

This is the same sort of shit that people send saying that Verve Clicquot will send you ten cases of their best champagne, not likely as one bottle is worth more then the Zimbabwean national budget, what could they possible gain from sending us precious little Africans 10 cases?

Anyways I spoke to the Brand manager of brutal fruit and they know nothing about this. Dodgy companies, with no clue on how to effectively run any form of authentic marketing campaigns do this to build their databases.

Be warned of this or you will be receiving tons of mails everyday on how to increase your penis size or some character that works in a bank that wants to deposit 100 million dollars into your account, trust me I get this on a daily basis after a friend copied me in on a mail to win an overseas holiday.

I have been sent this by three mates and replied to everyone they sent it to, see the numbers? perhaps there is method in their madness…

Anotherwhiteboy

Hangover Ratings

1 star hangover

No pain. No real feeling of illness. You slept in your own bed and when you woke up there were no traffic cones in there with you.
You are still able to function relatively well on the energy stored up from all those vodka and Red Bulls. However, you can drink 10 bottles of water and still feel as parched as the Sahara. Even vegetarians are craving a Cheeseburger and a bag of fries.

2 star hangover

No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay but you have the attention span and mental capacity of a stapler.
The coffee you hug to try and remain focused is only exacerbating your rumbling gut, which is craving a full English breakfast.
Although you have a nice demeanour about the office, you are costing your employer valuable money because all you really can handle is some light filing, followed by aimlessly surfing the net and writing junk e-mails.

3 star hangover

Slight headache. Stomach feels crap. You are definitely a space cadet and not so productive. Anytime a girl or lad walks by you gag because the perfume/aftershave reminds you of the random gin shots you did with your alcoholic friends after the bouncer kicked you out at 1:45 am. Life would be better right now if you were in your bed with a dozen doughnuts and a litre of coke watching daytime TV. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 2 Sausage Rolls and a litre of diet coke yet you haven't peed once.

4 star hangover

You have lost the will to live. Your head is throbbing and you can't speak too quickly or else you might spew.Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but you smell of socks, and you can't hide the fact that you (depending on your gender) either missed an oh-so crucial spot shaving, or, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the dodgems. Your teeth have their own individual sweaters. Your eyes look like one big vein and your hairstyle makes you look like a reject from a second-grade class circa 1976. You would give a weeks pay for one of the following - home time, a doughnut and somewhere to be alone, or a Time Machine so you could go back and NOT have gone out the night before. You scare small children in the street just by walking past them.

5 star hangover

You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits next to you. Vodka vapour is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva, so your tongue is suffocating you. You'd cry but that would take the last drop of moisture left in your body. Death seems pretty good right now. Your boss doesn't even get mad at you and your co-workers think that your dog just died because you look so pathetic. You should have called in sick because, let's face it, all you can manage to do is breathe... very gently.

6 star hangover

You arrive home and climb into bed. Sleep comes instantly; as you were fighting it all the way home in the taxi. You get about 2 hours sleep until the noises inside your head wake you up. You notice that your bed has been cleared for take off and is flying relentlessly around the room. No matter what you do you know, you're going to chuck. You stumble out of bed and now find that your room is in a yacht under full sail. After walking along the skirting boards on alternating walls knocking off all the pictures, you find the toilet. If you are lucky you will remember to lift the lid before you spontaneously explode and wake the whole house up with your impersonation of walrus mating calls. You sit there on the floor in your undies, cuddling the only friend in the world you have left (the toilet), randomly continuing to make the walrus noises, spitting, and farting. Help usually comes at this stage, even if it is short lived.
Tears stream down your face and your abdomen hurts. Help now turns into abuse and he/she usually goes back to bed leaving you there in the dark. With your stomach totally empty, your spontaneous eruptions have died back to 15-minute intervals, but your body won't relent. You are convinced that you are starting to turn yourself inside out and swear that you saw your tonsils shoot out of your mouth on the last occasion. It is now dawn and you pass your disgusted partner getting up for the day as you try to climb into bed. She/he abuses you again for trying to get into bed with lumpy bits of dried vomit in your hair. You reluctantly accept their advice and have a shower in exchange for them driving you to the hospital. Work is simply not an option. The whole day is spent trying to avoid anything that might make you sick again, like moving. You vow never to touch a drop again and who knows for the next two or three hours at least you might even succeed.

OK, now hands up all those who have never had a six star hangover!! Thought so!!

I have decided that I am going to treat myself and buy my own Valentines/ Easter/Birthday/Christmas/Saint Paddy’s … day gift.

And yesterday I went and traded my car in and bought a BMW 330ci convertible. I am chuffed.

I haven’t told my mates yet as the finance has not yet been approved, but they guy from the bank called me a bit earlier and said that he doubts there will be any problems as my credit history is pretty good.

I never thought that I would be a BMW driver as I normally regard them as pretentious wankers – but after taking it for a test drive I really cannot dispute the fact that they are fucking magic cars.

Every year I say that I am not going to follow Valentines day, as you should tell the person that you are with that you love them on a daily basis… and that it’s a huge marketing gimmick initiated by the large corporations to coax you into buying flowers at 4 x their normal price, along with a whole bunch of other crap. I do however end up rushing around organising something romantic at the 11th hour.

Tonight will be no exception.

I hope that you have a fantastic Valentines day!

Well being back at Varsity is great. I really enjoyed the lecture.

Stayed at home on Friday and watched a few dvd’s. The Hofs parents were up from Natal so he had a little get together at his place on sat. Needless to say there were copious amounts of scotch and as always brilliant discussions. We spent most of the night discussing how two white boys will succeed in negotiating labola on behalf of our friend Goms. I think that I promised to be able to speak fluently in zulu prior to us having to take this task on.

I can’t see why we are getting so excited about it … he hasn’t even met the girl that he wants to marry. I do however think that it will be a major cultural experience – even if we are only there as moral support.

I decided yesterday to take Morgan for a picnic at Roodeplaat dam… the outcome don’t bother. God knows what possessed me to drive halfway across Gauteng to sit in a shitty caravan park on the banks of the river and have a picnic. We might as well have gone to Emmerentia.

It was an experience though – One couple was getting married. Honestly, all their mates were there, fishing rods and all. The brandy and coke was flowing and some dude was playing the wedding march out of his car system. I kid you not – I totally believe that some members of SA society could compete with the yanky Jerry Springer folk.

Even Morgan pointed at them and although he can’t talk yet, the look on his face said it all.

I slept like crap last night –
2am wake up call – A weird sound coming from outside, like somebody sawing something
3.15 am – Next door neighbours dogs
3.45 am – Other next door neighbour’s dogs
4.20 am – Morgan climbing into bed with me ( was quite impressed he usually tries this stint at around 2)
5.00 am – Noisy next door neighbour on his way for a run – telling his running partner at the top of his voice about his weekend.
5:45 am – Alarm goes off – No more sleeping gotta get off to Tai Chi.

Tonight I am going to get pissed and sleep like a log.

Massive smiles this morning as the King of Poker arose, being horribly down in the last quarter of the game I managed to make a massive comeback -- winning back all the money I put in (the grand total of fifty south african rondt) and claiming another 45 to emerge as the king of the table.

Lovely !

As for my poker face it naturally became easier the more scotch I drank. There is something in taking your mates money that gives one such satisfaction !

Doctor Phil having only managed to take away a grand total of R5.30 then challenged me to a game of fooz ball (sp?) -- where he kicked my arse rather severely. Thank fuck we weren't playing for my winnings.

I really did enjoy myself though -- where else can one go with R50 bucks -- for the evening ?

My first lecture of this course I am doing begins tomorrow ... I am a bit nervous seeing as I haven't opened a book for the last few years. Seeing as I am paying for this myself I totally intend on finishing the first time round.

But I do think that I am slightly more mature now, and the temptations of rag, wyntyn, the pretty 1st years from some god forsaken town that ends with fontein who are just waiting to be corrupted, have been removed ... it should be a breeze.

Have a magic weekend.
anotherwhiteboy

P.S I forgot to inform you 'the hof' and his significant other are no longer. So any single ladies looking to meet a fucking decent bloke let me know. I can assure you won't be disappointed.

The day has finally arrived where our 1st Poker evening of 2007 is about to begin. Our fairer counterparts have the joys of book clubs, wine clubs, movie clubs --- actually anything that provides a supposed intellectual gathering whereby the true intention is drinking, chatting, gossiping and bitching. So why shouldn't we?

Welcome our monthly get together with the lads, scotch, beers and perhaps the chance of relishing in the fact that beat you mates and took all their dough.

Seeing that I haven't played poker in a while and the rules have deserted me I decided to do a bit of poker 101 namely, Poker champs on dstv and the trusty web. I feel far more secure in the fact that its a game of deceit and bull shit -- haha something a true Gauteng'er has mastered ... if he is still alive !

Hopefully tomorrow I would be entering my blog with a large hangover and a sack full of my winnings !!!

Will keep you informed ...

I have decided that since it's my birthday I would treat my blog with an update.

Essence of birthdays is drinking large amounts of whatever you can get your hands on. In my case I made 20 liters of Capahrina, it went down like a hooker on Oxford and needless to say my birthday party turned into a debachourious event.

The theme was Golfing Pro's and Tennis hos, with the majority of the guests turning out as the latter.

I have hit a milestone in my life the bug 25. As I am the youngest of my mates, it does not seem that they appreciate this endeavour as much as I do. But it has given me time to reflect -- look at what I want out of life and guide myself towards achieving it. Body, Mind and Soul are Number one on my agenda for the next year.

I have started Tai Chi lessons in the morning with Uncle Dad and Co. I never thought that I had muscles in the places that are causing me excruciating pain.
Going back to studying -- that should be interesting.

Going to try and shed my light on the world a little more often via my blog.