Just migrated my domain to my own servers. What a bloody mission. Lost my wiki in the process (http://wiki.icepick.co.za). What a bloody kak one.

But fuck it. The worst is over. :D

When I opted out of having multiple sex partners to become a semi-professional film reviewer for my own blog that nobody reads, I knew that instant the following day after about a year that I had no idea what I was doing.
As now, not only do I earn nothing writing nonsense once every 6 months, but I also lose out heavily in beautiful women reminding me how shit I am in the bedroom.

Together, the combination of no money + being shit at sexual intercourse, is basically how I felt after watching this film. I’m sorry to say. Actually I’m not. A quick Google search returns several positive reviews. So, you decide.

It all started when I received 2 free tickets to the pre-screening of X-Men: First Class. Upon arrival at Nu-Metro, I was introduced to a club bouncer demanding my cellular telephone.  Appalled at his lack of fundamental understanding in smartphone knowledge (an iPhone 3g barely permits photos let alone a screener quality video for torrent), I instead decided test my weakness, and allow this ogre to give me a ticket in return for my phone. A smart decision. On my part.

So we all wander into this unholy cinema, blessed with seats. And upon sitting, we are suddenly interrupted during our popcorn feasting(pre-screen-being-on), by a man with a beard and a microphone. Oddly enough, this man was giving out prizes to 3 lucky ticket-holding individuals. Luckily, I also had a ticket, like everyone else, and thus proved also to be worthy for competition prize extravaganza.
The prize, even more odd, was a 14mp camera. A camera. With video recording one of its many features. I hope I dont have explain how absurd this is.

After this weird first hour, I felt stressed. And decided to have a little nap. Waking up around the time Xavier has drank from the fountain of youth, and now has full use of his legs, thus rendering him an object of female lust and premature ovulation.

I don’t want to give out too much of the plot. In fact, I have already said too much. But it did have a few good things going for it. Firstly, I like origin stories. And I like cheese too. Unfortunately though, when my Gouda is off, I get upset. I hope I’m not losing you here.

Lets try that again. Say for instance you watched and admired a show religiously, and then one day you turn on the tele and find yourself watching ETV naked news on a Saturday night.

Time for instance doesn’t seem to play much of an important role in this movie… theres certain lapses that left me pondering whether or not I have milk in the fridge back home.
The movie itself was far too long to keep me captivated as well (if you want to call it that). I don’t even want to mention all the repetition of dialogue which was appalling and entirely satisfactory for half a deaf person. But a headache for those who have 20/20 hearing.

Magneto was pretty cool in the beginning. I like his sinister and vengeful appearance. Just this one scene of him on the bed turning the coin, stuck with me long enough to vividly recall. But then something happened. And only after watching the final battle scene, which somehow resembles a Peter Pan musical, did I realise its failure as anything other than a marketing attempt to make loads of Dollar.

Meh. I wouldn’t say its worth a watch. But if you have to, or want to, take a pillow. Or don’t. As 87% of people will disagree with me. And I’m looking for controversy.

X-Men 2 still cakes the take.

In 12 quick and easy steps.

1. Origin.

This is quite possibly the most important step. As bergies rely quite heavily on a relentless, fabricated backstory – usually involving broken dreams, harsh poverty, and a parentless upbringing. Mastering said story, involves quite a substantial amount of self pity… and/or a wild imagination.
Watching the local news, or observing those that beg/stroll along your local towns’ main road, is usually the best method of inventing a tale that involves murder, ass rape, self mutilation and tough love.

2.  Stench

Once said to be the most notable of signs of a nearby bum, it is the most significant ability to have acquired in ones bumpy inventory – if you ever feel the desire to take life to the streets.
Washing oneself in someone else’s feces is ideal, but I hear a decomposed corpse has quite a klunk to it. I’m not suggesting anything out of the ordinary here.

3.  A trolley

Steal a trolley. For they are there to carry ones shit to and from… anywhere. A trolley is the next step up the ladder of bergie greatness. And is the most important piece of technological machinery to have with you whilst wondering along a traffic-congested street.

4.  Psychology

Most hobo’s have acquired a masters degree in psychology. As not only do they have the astounding ability to work on almost anyones emotions, they can also strike fear in the fearful without a care in the world.
This is by far the most crucial step in becoming a street bergie. If you can piss a person off, or make them feel sorry for you, you have succeeded.. and can therefore collect your degree from your local intersection.

5. Informal Bin Collection AKA making-a-fucking-mess

Being a bum is basically like being a kid… without someone to clean up your mess. Thus bin investigating is, to a bergie, like glass is to a window frame. Thankfully, making a mess isn’t the only sweet thing about this act of vengeance on society. Pouring funky bin juice all over the road is what its all about – as well as neatly leaving everything lying scattered all over the ground for some petty council worker to mop up.
Do this, and you will be on the right track to hobolicious.

6. Guarding

Its like a job, but is totally not. Wack on a lumo vest, and you are good to go. People will trust you with their fucking bank account details.
However – and this is what the average tax-paying civilian fails to understand – not only does this vest entitle a bum to others belongings,  it also gives one the right to tell where one can and cannot park… in a public parking arena. Make sure not to allow parking for those who see through your sound ability.
I need not mention a bums parking advice – which, to put it simply, is far too superior for those with dumb driving licenses. So if you have already passed this ludicrous test of driving inferiority, forget what was learned, and begin defying physics for those who are weak and sympathetic.

7. Cloth

Most essential. Clothe oneself in a mixture of dog vomit and camel shit, strangely tied together using a bit of pocket lint, and one tail of dog. Followed by gently rolling around in leftover bin waste.

8. Make friends

Talk to yourself. Its about as awesome, from a spectators point of view, as large scale genocide.  People will love you for it. They will respect you for it. You will be a philosophical genius amongst petty human for it. Legend.

9. Beg

Begging was handed down from the hand of God. To get an idea of how to beg, spend a few Sundays at your local church. They know how lie, whilst getting into someones pocket, without feeling the slightest bit of sympathy.

10. Alcohol and Brawl

Alcohol was invented for the bergie. Its a crucial part of their society and status. Life will not prevail with out it. A requirement. Not just a self medicator.
For every bottle store, there are 56 bergies. And at least 12 of them are swearing profusely at one another for a sip of crackling. Bare in mind, bergies feel no pain. As upon transition into bergie-knighthood, the main sensory nerve that caters for physical awareness of attack, is cut surgically… using a bottle neck.

11. Suitable Location.

Begging in a desert- not ideal.
Begging in tourist-filled street – ideal.

12. Language

Bergies only know 2 words… “Your ma se poes!!” and “Zy, jyou naai”. So, get rid of those useless nouns and meaningless verbs taught by semi-professional idiots.

…apparently…

So in accordance with sexism and unequal rights, here are a few more kitchen funnies.

My 2 worst fears are:

• Sleep restriction
• And being air-lifted by anything other than an acute orgasm.

So it wasn’t the greatest of days when I was rudely awoken by my pre-set alarm clock at 3am, only to be forcefully placed into a somewhat rectangular-shaped box, and inconveniently lifted off 5 and a half thousand feet into the frightening abyss – without even a shot of anti-panic, or reincarnation in my inventory.

To get an idea of how terrible this turn of events was, I will attempt to explain using nothing more than a harsh and obscure sentence thats completely unrelated.

Holy mother of Cancer.

Careless, and not even slightly bewildered, anxiety set it and began to manifest into what can only best be described as… an organic nuclear warhead parting from my insides. This was, I’m afraid to say, not constipation. Nor those pesky butterflies. This was pure terror… in the form of absolute and certain death.

I’d much rather have been blundered to death by a rolled up news paper, than recall to memory the excruciating sense of helplessness, whilst aboard this terrifying blimp – that indirectly injected images of burning-to-death whilst free-falling into some ignorant farmers crop circle.

Fortunate enough, no one else was on par with my obvious lack of curiosity with hot air balloons. As if there were, together we could have formed the goddam apocalypse.

Forget Jesus, hope, the sinister afterlife, and this magnificent view all the others were blindly talking about… I was too busy scripting my will using tears and imagination.

Luckily, we crash landed rather comfortably, and I was blessed with a second chance at life – one that I will cautiously admire from here on out.

If you lack this genetic adaptation of pure wisdom (by staying the fuck away from potential death), then id suggest taking a look at the pics below.

You all know how much love i have for these fella’s…

Well… heres the first music video from their new “Free Music” EP – which is being launched this Friday at Zula Bar (you better goddamn be there).