Monthly Archives: June 2011

There went the Bride…

After a few weeks of silence, I’m back. Despite rumours: I have not been in a coma, I have not been swept away to Hollywood, I have not been abducted by an alien space-ship. There was a wedding in the family.

Although. All three options seem somewhat similar to what the past few weeks with my family have been.

People came from far and wide, distant aunts and cousins, walking up to you as if you’ve been friends forever. You have that pained smile on your face as you try to figure out how in the HELL you know them. I got so good at faking it that I ended up having a long conversation with a distant family member, about their university degree and how their mom is… only to discover that she was a actually only a very chatty waitress at the wedding. (Keep the change)

But yes, my big brother got married last weekend. In the big St. Georges Cathedral, I walked down the aisle, behind a (very slow) little flower girl, who wanted to place each rose petal down, individually. The colours (for those who care) were Natural “Fynbos” colours, from Protea-Pink, Dusty Green and Soft Gold. The Bride wore white, and lace, and a veil… and looked, quite rightly, like a princess. Royal wedding 2.0.

He may kiss the bride.

The ceremony was lovely, and quick. No one stood up to any controversy and chose to “Forever hold their peace” and “I Dos” were said.

(Actually, They say “I will” because it has a more continuous connotation. I do refers to the present tense only, I will refers to ‘always’. Semantics.  This is nice and all, but, my wedding – that I’ve been practicing since I was five and first figured out that pillowcase could double as a veil – will be pretty tricky now that I have to rewrite the script.)

The after party was full of red carpets, crystal chandeliers and old people boogying. The way a wedding should be.  There was a swing band that played and I found a dashing young friend of my brother’s to spin me around on the dancefloor for most of the night.

I even got to dance with the groom himself. Before he whisked his bride off, with  “I got a feeling” by the Black Eyed Peas the soundtrack to their farewell, letting us all know that tonight was going to be a ‘good good night’… Then they went off to honeymoon in Kenya (where I have since learnt that people ACTUALLY say “Hakuna Matata” and it DOES mean “No worries”… “For the rest of your days”)

Dancing with my Big Brother

*High Five* to the new Mr. and Mrs. Campey (Sucks for her that she’s stuck with my crap last-name “for the rest of her days” hehehe)

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Feel it – It was here.

Today’s Random High five can go to no other thing, but the memory of the FIFA World Cup kickoff. 365 days ago.

VUVUZELA was trending on Twitter for a month

I know I am not alone when I say that my heart aches when I remember that crisp sunny winter’s day: 11 June 2010. People were teeming the streets, I heard the echo of vuvuzelas from my Greenpoint apartment from about 5am solid, throughout the morning. Taxi drivers leaned out of their open doors, blowing vuvuzelas. People with SA flag capes were patrolling the streets like patriotic superheroes and high-fives were abounding.

Words like, “Ayoba” and “Make the circle Beega” could get a whole crowd cheering, come rain or shine – we were out, we were partying and we were full of ‘Gees’.

The most epic memory I have. Hands down (Low five?) is Tshabalala’s opening goal. It goes in the top 5 epic memories of my entire life. Maybe top 1.

I had been working like a demon, for the City of Cape Town, organising the Fanfest and FanParks and working with FIFA – so the kickoff day was a high stress, all systems go, kinda ordeal. I managed to get away, just in time – using my VIP backstage pass, I was able to get into the VERY PACKED Cape Town Grand Parade FanFest.

Fanwalk going past my flat in Greenpoint.

I stood there in the crowds, by myself- but very much not alone. Part of the nation, the planet.  To my right was a group of Afrikaans rugby looking guys, In front of me a huge group of foreigners (Americans, Dutch, Danish) to my left was a group of local black dudes and behind a group of Capetonian Coloured guys. Every kind of person. And me. The little blue-eyed girl. Together.

We cheered together. Waved our flags together. Jumped to waka-waka together.  Stood proud and sang the National Anthem together. Then we held our breath together as the kickoff passed and Mexico started playing… very well! -Reminding us that this was still a competition. And Bafana Bafana, our boys in yellow and green, were in the deep end.

But then. Oh you all remember where you were, and what you were doing. Tshabalala broke away, he hooked that ball (forgive my lack of football terminology) and it sailed into the net. Just. Like. That.

WHAM. I swear, I often think if NASA had been watching SA from space, you would have seen the whole country flicker into a cacophony of rainbow coloured flags, vuvuzelas being blown or thrown into the air and people hugging, rejoicing and of course: Randomly high-fiving strangers.

All around me people turned toward eachother. I got lifted onto someone’s shoulders, I hugged a dozen more. Foreigners hugging Afrikaaners hugging Xhosas, Whites, Coloureds, South Africans. Africans.  I screamed and jumped so hard that I saw blackness and almost fainted (Truestory).  All of this joy, humanity and equality. On the Grand Parade. Where Madiba made his speech 15 years before – of equality, tolerance and acceptance.  I believe the echo of that memory was smiling down at the country full of cheers, hope and high-fives. Proudly waving our flag and singing Nkosi Sikilela.

I found this Youtube of the Joburg fanpark witnessing that goal:

I miss the World Cup. I met Cameroonians, Ghanaians, Algerians. We partied together, we got to know each other’s histories, each other’s flags and blew vuvuzelas together as we marched along the fan walk.

Ayoba. It was here.

Blow your vuvuzelas and give someone a random *High Five*

(I’m trying to publish a video of my own footage of the Fanfest, But my computer wants to play with it’s life and is not rendering it. Here is a youtube of Tshabalala’s goal in the meantime. I will upload my video asap.)

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Glee-full ‘Pre-Teenage Dream’

If you need to know one thing about me, it’s that I love Glee. I love it shamelessly and completely. I do not understand people who hate on it. The script is dry and tight – unlike sex, that’s a good thing with comedy… and  it’s hysterical. AND It’s full of hot boys, singing great songs. I mean. Enough said.

Now, my dear best friend @LaurenMac3 sent me this link below: A little boy, dancing and singing like Blaine from The Warblers in Glee.

Just watch it. Even if you don’t like Glee, this kid is GREAT!

He’s Asian American, as one Youtuber commented: He’s like the love child between Mike Chang and Blaine Anderson. (Gleek lol)

I want to high-five him, low-five him and baby-five him.

And his mom, for encouraging him – filming it – putting it on YouTube… hell, for BIRTHING him. *HIGH FIVE!*

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Me Tarzan?

George of the Jungle

(read: DeWet of the Garden Route)

So there’s some buzz about this guy: DeWet Du Toit.

I don't have my vines crossed.

A South African dude from George who’s trying to cast himself as the New TARZAN in the 2012 movie remake of the monosyllabic, vine swinging, poo flinging, chest thumping hero. (Directed by Hollywood’s Stephen Sommers.)

He added a video to YouTube and has sent so many persuasive (allegedly all in CAPS – Tarzan likes to SHOUT!?) emails to film producers. So much so that he is now being flown to USA to audition for the role officially by US producer Jerry Weintrub

See the resemblance?

I want to offer him a high-five for pursuing his dream. (However dubious a “lifelong dream to play Tarzan” might sound to some.) He speaks to camera half way through. With a name like DeWet Du Toit, I don’t have to tell you what his mother-tongue is, he has a thick accent – let’s just say, he’ll sound the part to Americans. Even when he’s not acting.

His Video is pretty impressive, He has a body I wouldn’t mind seeing projected on a big cinema screen for a few hours, he does a bit of  Baywatch style water scenes, swings from a vine, ‘plays’ with a man in a monkey suit  and even leads a Knysna Elephant through the forest with. his. bare. hands! (You know the Americans will LOVE that) all to the tune of Gregorian and Indian sounding Monks – with an epic ‘miming’ of the Tarzan yell at the end… What’s not to love?


The editing isn’t the tightest, and the filming is quite rookie – but there are some Proudly South African shots of the beautiful Garden Route in there also.

*High Five* DeWet, or should I say *Hoog-Vyf*

And Good luck!

(I shall now take my tongue out of my cheek)

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Controversial Five

Random high five of controversy!
This is hysterical.*

*high five*

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Date-Driving Miss Angey.

Later today, The kind people at VW are giving me a car. Me. Just giving me the keys and letting me purr that baby away.

*Terms and Conditions apply.

Sex on Wheels.


1. I leave my own car, in exchange… which might be a point of leverage if I took my Ferrari, But imma take my old faithful jaloppie.

2. I have to go on a DATE using the VW car. A real bonafide, ‘boy meets girl’ date. Or in my Case “Boyish girl meets unsuspecting boy.” (This is a tricker term and condition than you might think)

3. They are going to strap heart monitor devices to check my pulse on this date (So if the “Unsuspecting boy” tries to poison me and sell my organs on the black market,I assume this heart rate monitor will serve as the precaution to that. They will notice when my heart stops beating. – A skipped beat is ok.)

4. I get an Android phone to tweet from, and to monitor the GPS movements of the car. (I wonder how long it would take them to realise I’m making a break for the Mexican border?) – Oh wrong country. Duh, If it was America I woulda written “realize” back there. Focus!

(Am I allowed to say ‘Focus’ in this post about VW? You know, coz it’s a Ford. AfFordable – well, I just did.)

5. I have to leave the ball at midnight or else I’ll turn into a pumpkin and my date will start mincing in glass slippers. Aka: I have to bring the car back the next morning. (Where I can exchange ‘walk of shame’ high-fives with the VW peeps)

6. Bottom line is, the car is going to make me HOT(ter) and COOL(er) and RAD(der) and my “Date” will be awesomer(er) …er.

I’m probably going to be tweeting about it. So you can follow me or look for the hashtag #vwdatedrive or Follow @DateDrive. Let’s see how it goes. The evening is planned. With lots of superfluous driving factored in; Camps Bay to Constantia to Hout Bay to Sea Point – to my place or yours? *high five*

Jealous, much? Well you can go to the website and stand a chance to  win one also:

Vroom Vroom to Boom Boom.

Ya. Das Auto.

I’m excited to feel the power when I turn it on.


Watch this video to see Tracey McGregor, Bangers and Nash, Dylan Jack and Cape Town Girl on their Date Drives:

*High Five*


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