Category: I couldn’t make this shit up even if I tried



A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about how it was only March and already 2015 was turning out to be a pretty awesome. I talked about how I’d finally obtained that effing sub-2 and how I’ve set new PBs for a 5, 21, 30 and 42km. I also stated that I was about to participate in my first ever Ultra and that there was a chance I might not complete it. And if this were to happen, there would be tears.

Well, I did it! I completed the Two Oceans Ultra (56km) in 6:25. I was hoping for sub-6 and up until the 28km I was on track. That is until Ou Kaapse Weg and then it all went downhill from there. Figuratively speaking, of course. Ou Kaapse Weg is a bitch 7km climb.

What else can I say about the race?

Well, for weeks before the big day my father and I planned to run the race together. We trained together – 5 days a week. We talked strategy. Or more accurately, he talked and I tried to absorb it all. On the day of the race, at the 7km mark, he left me. And I wasn’t surprised. Or angry. Or hurt. He’s done this before; so many times that I expected it. At the 37km mark I caught up to him. And then I proceeded to finish the race ahead of him, by 12 minutes. (It’s funny, at the beginning of the year he told me that I would be able to kick his arse in shorter races but I’d never take him in longer events. This year I’ve beaten the old man in a 10, 15, 21, 30 and 56km race. And now I want to do what he’s never been able to achieve. I want to do a marathon in less than 4 hours.)

At the about the 40km mark, there was a radio announcer slash TV presenter. He asked various runners what was the first thing they wanted to do when they got home. Some said they wanted a cold beer. Others said they wanted a warm shower. And I just thought, “I’d like to take a nice, satisfying shit.” Right now several mothers are wishing their sons would end up with someone as classy as me.

Other than wanting to take a dump, I also wanted to cry, a lot. After 42km, running is no longer fun. It’s just this stupid hobby that requires you to move your legs in quick succession. And yet, the very minute I’d crossed the finish line I was so overcome with euphoria that I vowed to run the Comrades next year.

So that’s one of the reasons that 2015 has gotten a little sweeter. The other is that I’ve been awarded a partial scholarship to go to the United States for a few weeks.

Life is good.

UntitledThe above photo was taken at Hello Sailor in Observatory. I’d definitely recommend the baked cheesecake.


My one year old niece recently learnt a new word: “dirty”. A few weeks ago she saw some homeless people and said, “dirty”.

My dad
Last night, I accidentally introduced my dad to YouTube. And when I say accidentally, I mean that I was sitting in my parents’ living room, eating their free food and using their free WIFI to watch THIS awesome video of Beyoncé  and Jay Z’s Paris tour, when my dad walked by. (Please note that my dad thinks Beyoncé  is Britney.) After watching the clip twice, my dad said, “Play some Nicki Minaj. That one where she sings about her boom boom.” (He was of course referring to Super Bass.)

My “niece”
My one-year old “niece” can say a few words. In her vocabulary is “charger” and “money”. I can’t take credit for teaching her that, but I do plan on teaching her to say “wifi”.

Homeless man
A few days ago, I was having lunch at Amy Bun’s place when a beggar rang the doorbell.
Me: We don’t have anything.
Him: Can I speak to the boss please?

A few weeks ago, I attended Dizzy* and Juan’s housewarming party. At some point during the evening, a friend of Juan’s told the group that he’d heard this pick-up line and would like to share it with the group. Being the fun loving bunch that we are, we enthusiastically agreed to hear him out. We soon regretted our decision.
Him: Do you have pet insurance?
Group: Erm … no.
Him: Because tonight your pussy is going to get a pounding.

Last night I attended a farewell party of a close friend of mine. And by close friend, I mean that over a 3 year period, I’ve only ever spoken to the guy three times.


The farewell party was held at Lefty’s, which is this dive bar on Harrington Street. Although it might not look like much, I can confirm that it serves up the most delicious concoction of falafel and beetroot. Unfortunately, Lefty’s doesn’t have a paper menus or a large selection for vegetarians. Besides the falafel, the only other option for vegetarians was tater tots (potatoes stuffed with mushrooms).


At the farewell party I met so many interesting characters. I spent thirty minutes quizzing a girl about her 3 month roadtrip through Africa and her work at SWEAT. We reminisced about our favourite Friends episodes. And I learnt the German word for nipple. Brustwarz, which translated literally means breast wart. This naturally led to conversation about how certain German words just didn’t have an English equivalent.


Irish guy: What’s the direct English translation of “voetsek”.

Guy from Soweto: There is no direct English translation. It’s a polite way to say “fuck off.”

Me: That’s polite? I’d tell my dog to voetsek.

Irish guy: Your dog speaks Afrikaans?

Me: My dog speaks?


American: What’s your name?

African guy: Innocent.

American: What? Are you for real?

African: Yes. My name is Innocent.

African shows the American his name tag.

American: Oh man, even though I see your name, I still can’t believe it.

French guy: Yeah, never believe a black guy when he says he’s innocent.


Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, Washington DC