Obviously being the whole “creative” type, I don’t sit around at home waiting for awesome articles to hit me in the face. No no, I go out on the town and chat to people, and in the process articles just appear in my head and then I write them. Then you read them and hopefully laugh and enjoy them. But as all my work is based on actual truth, and not just made up stuff, it takes a bit of time to do the various research on them and so I cannot blow your mind every day with an awesome Cape Town article.

So you will see I will post articles on a variety of things that I believe will interest you. And that is how todays article comes in. I obviously have articles being created on the Mount Nelson Hotel, the stadium being built for the 2010 World Cup and all sorts of other things. But to get the whole magazine experience, I feel this very necessary. And I’m sure so do you.

But before we get into that…I have a copy of the 5 June HELLO!(Why is it necessary to shout this?) and in the back there is an article on tomatoes. They are a fruit. I never knew that. Well you learn something new everyday I suppose.

So while I was out last night, I stumbled upon a conversation that immediately had me thinking “That’s a good article, my Editor will be pleased with me!” Obviously I am the Editor and so I was fairly pleased with myself. Naturally.

I obviously write these sorts of articles to be geared towards guys, because I can’t write articles geared towards women. Being young, I have no idea what women are thinking. But seeing some older people, they don’t seem to have a clue either. So I don’t feel too stupid. Read Cosmopolitan for that, they are really good.

We got onto the topic of investing in winter. Not with money, but with attitude. You know what winter is like, it’s cold outside, warm inside, other people are warm, and so the term “cuddling” might be appropriate for winter. You will find yourself out in a club or a restaurant saying “It’s so damn cold, I just want to cuddle!” At this very moment a saucy little minx will enter the restaurant.

You can see her from a mile away. Silky smooth locks just dripping with fresh rain water,those sexy come to bed eyes, an air of grace about her and an attitude to kill any socially inapt(Inept? Will check this) men. You will see her enter the restaurant, delicately sauntering in wearing her Jimmy Choo shoes.

As she walks past you brushing you with her D&G trench coat, bought in Milan, you will feel yourself wanting to take your cold dessert spoon, and smacking her ass ever so delicately. Booiiiing. However, as an SLXS reader, you will have more control than this. Because I will teach you the way.

Obviously she will have the most delicate of features. Fine skin, high cheekbones, cute little ears that you just want to nibble on. Not just yet tiger.

Did it ever occur to you that she might be wearing a 20 kilogram coat to hide something? Did it ever occur to you that she might not be hitting the gym as often as you would like?

You see winter is a precarious time, where people with no control seem to hook up with girls, and maybe even have a bit of a relationship going. However, being a suave man about town, you would see winter as your “Investment” phase.

Winter you see, is the time where you build the foundations. You don’t build the house just yet. You walk through clubs, chatting to girls, keeping them entertained, and then you leave them hanging somewhat. You will see in their eyes that they are about to ask you to come back to their place, or they are going to invite themselves to your apartment. This is when you make your exit.

“Sorry sweetheart, I really have to go chat to my friends, it was nice meeting you and hopefully I will see you again”

You have now laid the foundation. Over the winter months, this girl will continually see you out, and as it gets colder, as the darkness deepens, she will want you more and more. She does not want a damn gas heater to keep warm, or her cute little puppy, or her feather down duvet,she wants YOU! But you keep her at bay. You keep mingling, chat to other people, keep your composure, act icy cool just like the weather.

As the rain beats down and she gets ever more lonely, she might even consider that you don’t like her all that much. She might even…gasp…try seeing other guys. But deep down she will be thinking of you, the guy who chatted to her so nicely, never even suggesting anything in the way of taking her home. She will know that you have class and style. She will admire you for not just taking her home the first night you met. She will want to know what makes you different and why you are different in your behaviour from the other guys out.

And then, as the days get longer and the sun starts to show its presence in the mornings, you will find yourself in a situation where this girl will no longer be able to stop thinking about you. The sunlight will make her happy, she will see you again and think of those magical conversations you had in winter. And finally, you will be able to take her to the beach.

Now you can see her fine form, no coats, jewellery, jerseys and the like. And finally you will be able to see the body of the mynx. Now if it is not quite to your liking, you have not committed to anything. At this stage, you are just friends. However is she turns out to be an absolute fox, you are in there!

You will also chuckle as you see how many people break up in summer, realising that they hooked up in winter. You sir, have taken your time, built a solid foundation, and now it’s time for summer fun!

So while you sit around in this terrible winter…wait…what is this whole concept of “Global warming” I’m freezing! And Britain is in floods. So much for warming, it’s quite chilly! Scientists clearly have no idea what is happening.

So yes…while winter might be getting you down, keep your composure young squire. Take my advice, the advice I gleaned from a conversation at the night club Tiger Tiger last night, and reap the rewards.

The weather should be getting nice and warm in November, and as the layers of clothes come off, as the bikinis come out(The skimpy bikinis) you will finally see your investment being uncovered. It may take time, but it’s worth it. You don’t expect to buy shares in a company, and then sell them that same evening for a huge profit. Sometimes this may work, but not always. Rather do the investing phase in winter, and cash in in summer.

So take the time to chat to women in winter, act cool, don’t mention anything about getting together, show them your humour and your immense knowledge of the world.

Then watch as come summer time, all she wants to do is smear you in suntan OIL and…

Well…

Hit the beach of course.

Take it easy out there.

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

Lance- Letting the pistons do the talking

The Tour de France has once again been rocked by a doping scandal involving one of the sports top riders. It’s a race that is still trying to deal with the Floyd Landis doping scandal, and now it is hit again with another rider who has been implicated in blood doping. Alexandre Vinokourov and his entire Astana team have left the tour. Riding in what would likely be his last Tour de France, Vinokourov has ended off a career in disgrace. They are still awaiting his B blood sample, but as far as the international press are concerned, he is guilty and his career is over. The problem is, maybe he has been doping(If he indeed has) for longer than we think, and therefore he is not as great a rider as we have always believed. No matter what happens in cycling, and what doping does to the image of the sport, it is still one of the greatest sports on the planet. Here are my top reasons why the Tour de France, and cycling in general are still the greatest things on earth:

It produces real heroes

Some of the older generation will recall the days of Greg Le Mond and Eddy Merckx. But todays youth are inspired by a one Lance Armstrong. He came back from testicular cancer to win the tour a record breaking 7 times. He blew the sporting world apart with his determination, his focus and his strength. He has inspired a generation and only a bike race like the Tour de France can produce heroes on a scale like that. Lance went on to start his Livestrong foundation, which offers support to people living with cancer. It is also a great force in making government spend more money on cancer research and treatment.

Lance went on to show that the tour can be won by being clean. People still argue that he must have used drugs to produce his phenomenal performances, but as much as they still test his blood samples, nothing ever comes up. I don’t think Lance was stupid enough to have used drugs. He has way too much to lose. If his blood samples did in the future show drugs, his entire foundation would be disgraced. Lance was the one out training when no one else was. If you read his book and articles on him you will see that while boys like David Millar were out relaxing, Lance was training. Lance would weigh his food and test aerodynamic positions in the wind tunnel. He was involved in every aspect of the sport, and was fanatical about equipment. He would even sometimes use an old school gear lever mounted on the frame for mountain stages, instead of the newer ones mounted on the brake levers to save weight. He would use an unpainted bike to save a few grams. He was fanatical about this stuff. That’s how the tour is won. That is how heroes are made. I don’t think we will ever know how many people Lance has inspired, but it’s millions. In fact he has inspired an entire generation of people.

It’s for everyone

Cycling as a sport is for people of all ages. I have been to countless mountain bike races where I have seen parents riding alongside their kids and enjoying themselves immensely. I have seen people of all ages, sizes and races coming together on weekends to enjoy a cycle surrounded by like minded, healthy people. It’s a sport that unites people, makes them smile and keeps them healthy. It breaks all boundaries, and out there on the bike we are all equal.

It is also suitable for elder people, as it is low impact, and once you know how to ride a bike, you never forget. Not many people are going to be wake boarding or skiing in their sixties, but plenty of people cycle in this age group, and even in higher age groups.

It allows us to focus

Out on the bike you come to appreciate the beauty of the world we live in. You also come to appreciate what is important in life. You never hear people saying on a bike ride “I wish I had more money” or “I wish I had a better job” Out on the bike we come to enjoy the simple things so much more. We appreciate those sips of water, those views over the ocean, the mountain or wherever our bike rides take us. I have cycled through the Knysna forest in the pouring rain for The Karoo to Coast mountain bike race, into Die Hel in Oudtshoorn for the To Hell And Back mountain bike race, through Montague, over Chapmans Peak and I have experienced things you don’t normally experience. You don’t often get to walk next to someone, carrying your bike in the pouring rain in the Knysna forest, not saying anything, your legs too cold to pedal your bike, but still having the time of your life. You don’t often get to descend a hill in the pouring rain with no rain jacket with some riders coming close to hypothermia, and then reaching the bottom of the hill to find that some of the race organisers have built a bonfire to keep the riders warm(This was To Hell And Back). You go from freezing cold, to laughing around a fire with people you have never met. It’s these things that make the sport unique, and it’s about experiencing another side of life that does not come from going out and drinking and doing drugs. Cycling is real.

Not all sports are saintly

While this does not justify drug use in cycling, it is a good point nonetheless. Cycling has some of the strictest drug testing in the world. Cycling as a sport realises it has a problem, and drug testing is its way of getting rid of the guilty riders. Obviously they catch lot’s of riders doing drugs, and this makes people think that cycling is full of cheats. However, if other sports had to be as stringent with drug testing, they would no doubt also find that many of their athletes are using drugs. Cycling is not afraid to admit it has a problem. Of course they could do drug testing less regularly, and then they would not find as many riders guilty. This would make it seem like a clean sport, but all that means is that riders would be using drugs, but would just not be found guilty. This is pointless, and I would rather we have big drug busts in the press, as we then know the drug testing is working.

You still feel like you are flying

You never lose that feeling of flying when you are on your bike. Going downhill at 60km/hr with a smile on your face, not worrying about anything, feeling like a kid again and nothing else comes close to that.

It holds the worlds attention

Every year when the Tour de France comes around, you will hear even non cycling fans talking about it. It’s like a World Cup, only it’s not! Everyone speaks about the Tour de France, and many people learn about how professional cycling works by watching the Tour de France and listening to the legendary commentators Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwin. It’s a race that holds the worlds attention, a sport that captures the imagination of everyone, due to the extreme nature of the sport and the iron will of the riders.

It shows that South Africans can still do it

Robbie Hunter became the first South African to ride the tour a few years back, and this year he became the first South African to win a stage in the Tour de France, riding for a South African sponsored team, Barloworld. Robbie Hunter is currently second place in the sprinters points on the Tour de France and he is showing the pro riders on bigger teams exactly how you ride a tour. He is regularly in the top 10 in the sprints in this years tour, and he is pretty much an icon now in South Africa. As I always say, we don’t have a lot of South Africans in the top ranks of sports, but the ones we do have are the very best. Ernie Els in golf, Oscar Pistorius in athletics, Ryk Neethling and Roland Schoeman in swimming and Greg Minnaar in downhill mountain biking. We can do it. And we do.

It has the most beautiful podium girls!

Enough said

As much as the tour suffers all the time due to drug scandals, to me it is still the greatest race on earth. Three weeks of sheer pain, suffering and a race where careers are made and lost. The Tour de France has it all- intrigue, speculation, anger, suffering, joy, pain, ecstasy and above all it is a race that pushes the human body and the mind to the very limit. It shows the resilience of the human body and mind and inspires millions.

This is cycling

This is my sport

And damn…I love it.

UPDATE: As we all know Michael Rasmussen has been taken out of the tour by his team for lying to them about his whereabouts before the tour. People say this is unfair as he has not tested positive for drugs.

What people fail to realise is that sponsors put millions of dollars into the sport, and they expect to be able to trust their riders. Michael Rasmussens job is to cycle, and he has basically lied to his employers. Also by lying about his whereabouts, and missing four drug tests in the past 18 months, you would immediately suspect that he is using drugs. Although he might not have used drugs in the tour, and some people argue that drugs used earlier in the year will not increase his performance in the tour, he has still lied to his team.

As a professional rider, you know the rules that come with drug testing. It is inexcusable to miss these tests, as it is part of the job. I was hoping Michael Rasmussen would win the tour, but with the recent revelations, I think it is fair that he be removed from the tour.

Sponsors are putting millions of dollars into cycling, something they don’t have to do. Riders must keep on abusing their sponsors like this, and soon they will find themselves out of a job. Cycling is not like modelling where Kate Moss takes drugs, and her career gets even better. Cycling is not fashion, it is a sport and it has rules and you need to stick to those rules.

Riders need to understand that sponsors are paying their salaries, and they need to be truthful to them. And they need to be truthful to their sport, which is a great one.

Sean Lloyd

Editor

I woke up yesterday and was supposed to write something on a restaurant that used to be in Sea Point, and which I don’t think exists anymore. However, with the weather pounding Cape Town, it was not really the ideal time to go out and take photos. And so I found myself messing about on the internet and wondering about the point of the universe. Interesting…

Anyway, the weather was horrendous and some of us were joking that it would be a great day for surfing at dungeons, because you would actually die if you tried to surf in that weather. I’m serious in that we were only joking. Not for one moment did I think people would surf.

So it was quite interesting walking into Woolworths this morning and seeing The Cape Times lying on the rack, with a picture of some guy surfing a monster wave. James Taylor was shown in the photo, and apparently the waves were between 50 and 60 feet. Ok then! That is disgusting, why would you surf that?! However, I don’t think this formed part of the competition, and so I did not miss out on anything. Nothing will sadden me more than if I miss the competition! I have to be there and I check every day to see what the website is forecasting for the competition.

You might also wonder what happened to out trip to the castle. Well, it turns out that I do set myself certain deadlines, and the trip to the castle could not be done within that time. However, I do still intend visiting it sometime, at my leisure, because I hear it has a helicopter landing pad, just the way I like it!

So that’s just to keep you up to date  with what is going on right now.

Okay then.

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

Imagine how excited a girl will be if she gets this from you?!

I think this is quite hilarious, as I never even knew this existed anymore.

I’m used to e-mails, sms’s and remember those things…letters!

So it was with some amusement that I checked the post today, to find a telegram! That is hilarious, seriously, who would do this?( I won’t tell you, it’s off the hook)

It was a Telkom telegram, and I actually find it quite cool. It’s seriously old school, and I quite enjoy it. Who knew that people would still use such old school means to communicate? I think this telegram might just start some sort of trend between myself and my friends. Or imagine inviting people to your birthday by sending them a telegram, I think it’s quite genius, and a unique approach to communication. I just need to find out how to send one, I actually have no clue. I have never even seen a telegram to be honest.

But then I came upon this realisation! Say you meet a girl…and I always apply the three day rule. I don’t sms or call for like two or three days. So say you meet a girl on Monday…you can actually take out the 9 or 10 day rule! You send her a telegram, and I’m not sure how long it takes to send, but you make sure it reaches her about 10 days after you met. That way she thinks you are in some far fetched place like Guam! Or it tells her that you are an intrepid explorer, and don’t often have contact with civilization. Chicks dig these type of guys, like the Camel man, only this is better! You could be living in your little cabana hut alongside the beach in Cape Town.

All the while this girl has this image of you being like Mike Horn, circumnavigating the globe by yourself. But I think what is in the message is the deal breaker. You say something along these lines:

Hello pumpkin tits

I’m joking, don’t say that.

So you do this, if her name is Annique:

Hi Annique, hope you are well, sorry can’t be long, not sure when this hurricane will cut communication again. Sitting in Yemen at the moment, knee deep in mud, but the kids are where my heart lies. I’m dragging bags of rice up a 400 metre slope to keep it from going bad. It’s for the orphans here, they have no food. It’s heart breaking seeing them like this, but every little bit helps. Hope to see you soon if I can get out, transport routes are gone, I hope I can get out of here, and save all these kids, it’s brutal out here.

Will try keep in contact

Sean

Let’s all just take this in for a moment

WOW!

I

AM

A

GENIUS!

Can you for one moment imagine how in love with you this girl will be?! I can’t! She will actually think you are Leo from Titanic! Already, just reading this, she will be thinking of the two of you, safe from hurricanes in your Cape Town apartment, all warm with a glass of wine. She will be visualising you crooning Lionel Ritchies “All Night Long” to her, while she stares at you, in awe, and wonders “How did I hook up with this Adonis!”

The crazy thing is, while you are sending this she will be thinking that you are suffering at the hand of the elements. Meanwhile you will be watching the Cape Town sunset, drinking a Windhoek beer, and having a nice little cook off on the deck of your palace, chatting to your mates who will also be amazed at the genius of this all!

Obviously you would want to keep away from anywhere where she is going to be for a while.

But on the odd chance that she does see you in town, you just say to her:

Yeah, sorry just arrived back four hours ago, we managed to catch a plane going out. The kids are safe, I built them a shelter with my bare hands from sticks and stones. They will be fine, I’m going back soon to visit.

It’s foolproof!

I think it’s well worth a try, this whole telegram thing. It gives you a very mysterious air about you, and girls love that. They love thinking that they are seeing a one of a kind man, a true explorer. Meanwhile…you have been eating Woolworths food, showering using your Hugo Boss shower gel and watching satellite TV.

I think it’s brilliant and sometimes I even think “How did I come up with such an AWESOME idea?”

Let me know how it goes out there

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

My shoes view of Table Mountain

Obviously it’s not all work and no play around here, and so yesterday I found myself in “play” mode.

I was summoned to the palace in Blaauwberg on Sunday, and decided that it would be in my best interests if I went through. What a fantastic day! I nearly didn’t make it, after falling asleep watching the Tour de France, after attending a remarkable party on Saturday night.

Blaauwberg actually reminded me of what we sometimes miss in Cape Town. We are always attracted to the usual areas of excess like Clifton, Camps Bay and Llandudno. But little do we know that just opposite the centre of town, we have a delightful area called Blaauwberg!

I never really thought much about it until yesterday, but it’s quite a spectacular place to live. The other areas that I mentioned above are the usual places, and are the places to stay if you want to be close to the jet set. Camps Bay and Clifton and those areas are spectacular, and they are always going to be good places to stay as it is where all the parties happen and where all the best beaches are. But if you want to live a bit away from all the action, and don’t mind being a little further away from all the models and business tycoons, Blaauwberg is quite a safe choice.

I sat on the balcony yesterday enjoying a Weber braai, while I did absolutely nothing! I let the hosts do the cooking and I had a little drink going, we were all watching Sergio Garcia kick away the golf, and we watched a spot of the Tour de France, where once again Michael Rasmussen showed an impressive display of form. I relaxed while watching some guys trying to bodyboard at the beach, about 100 metres away from us. There were also the usual kite boarders further away from us, and the beach there is really popular for kite boarders. You will see the beaches packed every weekend with these people, and I sometimes wonder how no one crashes into anyone else, as it seems like chaos to me.

I also enjoyed some of the people walking past, some of them in VERY good shape. Clearly shaping up already for summer, which is always a good thing.

I had a great view of that mountain of ours, Table Mountain. It’s one of the best views of Table Mountain you will ever see. If I moved my head a little to the right of that, I saw that other place that is apparently quite well known, Robben Island. In addition to all that, it was also relaxing watching various ships come and go, just cruising past us, minding their own business.

Just on the left of the place I was at, there is a brand new set of apartments being built, and they will obviously have the same spectacular views I had, and the apartments at the top will have an absolutely mind blowing view. I want one. I hear that they are selling from R1,4 million for a one bedroom apartment. Quite honestly, I think you would want to pay that for the view alone! It’s brilliant, and it is the most relaxed I have felt in ages. There is something calming about watching ships cruise by and watching the sun dip over the horizon, taking all it’s warmth with it.

As the air cools down you no doubt find yourself lighting a fire inside, turning on the television to some sport, and just chilling with your friends. It’s all very well having the view, but good company is essential.

If I think about it, Blaauwberg is where you go for understated style. I suppose it’s not a place where the young and trendy would go to live, but it is beautiful nonetheless.

You won’t find yourself stressing out too much with views like that. I mean, someone could have told me that my house was burnnig down yesterday, and I probably would have calmly said “Please call back later when you have important news, like aliens invading the earth. I’m trying to pour a drink and see the sun setting with Robben Island perched delicately in the foreground, and I cannot take a call now. Goodbye”

You should have a look at it sometime. The best time is in winter, when it’s cold outside, and you have a fire burning inside, a drink at your side, a braai (Barbecue I suppose, if you are not from South Africa) outside and good friends surrounding you.

You might think to yourself “This is the dream”

And indeed, it is the dream

The sun decided it had better places to go- And left me suddenly

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

This is probably the most pathetic thing that myself and my friends do, but being guys we find it hilarious nonetheless. And it’s got to do with winning. I know it’s not confined to us and lot’s of other people know about it and do it, but I just find it hilarious because the first time I heard it was about four years ago when I was at school.

The way it works is that to end any argument, or pretty much anything, even if you don’t have a decent defense is just to say “But…I win” Like for instance I will be telling someone about this time myself and Gisele Bundchen were on my private yacht, and she was busy making me breakfast after the craziest night on earth. Then someone like Jerry D will say “No you lying, that never happened!” We will debate like this for a while until I realise that I have lost the fight, because I know deep inside that I don’t know Gisele. Knowing that I am about to lose an argument, I will just bring out the deal breaker.

I will catch Jerry D mid sentence, with a left hook to the mouth.

“But Jerry…I WIN!”

And that’s it. Jerry D knows that I have won. He knows that he cannot possibly carry on with this pathetic argument, because I have finished him off.

We also used to do it when we got results back from tests and exams. Specifically maths, which I always failed. I would be sitting in class and the teacher would read the results out.

“Lloyd, 14%”

WHAT!? Are you joking? I would say these things in my head, alarmed at the fact that it was possible to get such a low mark. But I would keep these words to myself, because I could not possibly let anyone know that I cared about my marks. So I would act cool like I did not care about what marks I got. I would just quietly turn around, look at Charlie V or Jerry D, and say:

“Yeah but I’m worried because I still win!”

Immediately all my friends would forget about laughing at my marks because they know that I have won in any case. The teachers could never beat us at anything, because they never knew about the saying “I win”

I think the crowning glory came when in Grade 11 I was given my report with comment slips on it. My maths teacher wrote on it that I deserved to fail maths. Ha! How funny is that?! I remember coming into his class early in the year and he said that he had chosen to teach us(We were the bottom of the pack class, the class where all the failures go to chill) because he knew that he could turn us around and make us all pass at the end of the year.

Well I certainly proved that wrong! I think I failed at the end of the year but the fact still remains that I won!

When you know the art of the saying “I win” you are bound to lead a more successful life. I sometimes use it totally out of context, and pretty much abuse the saying. Someone will say “Lindsay Lohan is such a druggie” They will be chilling in my TV room when saying this, and I will be in the kitchen. I will hear this and suddenly bound over to the TV room and shout “I WIN!” Totally out of context, totally unnecessary, but funny nonetheless. Or at least everyone laughs because they know that if they don’t laugh, then I will win again. So in fact in that situation I will win twice if they don’t laugh. So they laugh to make sure that I only win once. Which still means that I win. Sheer genius really!

You should try it sometime if you haven’t already.

Another thing we like to do is what I call “The Reverser” I learnt it from the movie Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy. There is a scene in the film where he is calling Veronica to try and get her to leave, by saying she is pregnant or something. She then says something like this:

“You’re pathetic”

To which Ron replies “No, you’re pathetic!”

So he has basically turned the situation on her! You use someone elses sentence to beat them, fantastic!

So if someone tells you that you are a worthless, lowlife FOOL, you just repeat it to them. They will immediately know that you have tricked them, by turning their words on them. This is where you can even pull a sneaky one.

Once they know you have pulled “The Reverser”, they will probably be speechless as to how clever you are. As they sit there, unable to comprehend the enormity of what you have done, you just look them directly in the eyes, and with an air of cool say:

I

WIN

YES! BAM! Knockout punch to the face!

Well done, you have won again

Sean Lloyd

Editor

As you will all know, The Bomber is one of Cape Towns most feared vehicles.

So it was with a slight chuckle that it’s pilot, Jerry D, let me know about 30 minutes ago that he had received another speeding fine. Not that we would say you must speed, it’s dangerous and all…but with The Bomber you hardly notice you are speeding. It feels like you are doing 40km/hr and you are actually doing 300km/hr.

Anyway, the photo above is what most people fear. You will regularly see The Bomber coming down a road and suddenly all other cars in that road will park, or take a turn off into a side road. This is also the photo that all speeding cameras and traffic cops fear the most…

You will no doubt come to see this sight in Cape Town. You can stare, it’s cool. Just give it some space and a bit of respect and you should get by just fine.

The Bomber commands respect in this city, and that’s what I always give it

Respect!

Sean Lloyd

Editor

As they always say, you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns. Well somebody clearly messed with the bull, Robbie Hunter, and he gave them the horns.

When I arrived back today after a good afternoon with Jerry D, cruising in The Bomber, I walked into the greatest show of my life. I turned on the TV to catch literally the last 2 km’s of todays stage in the Tour de France. It always amuses me that while we don’t have a lot of South Africans at the top levels of international sport, the ones that are there are making a mockery of everyone.

Think Greg Minnaar, our downhill mountain biker who regularly punishes the worlds best riders. He cleans up on the world circuit. Then we have Ernie Els in golf, Ryk Neethling in swimming and now Robbie Hunter seems to be laughing his way through France, as his wild card team proceed to put on the after burners.

Barloworld is a South African sponsored team, and Robbie Hunter is our South African rider on the team. The team did not automatically qualify and were given a wild card entry into the race. Not willing to sit back and merely take in the scenery of France, they are giving it a full go in the race. They are sending it along the roads of France, and they are making myself, and a lot of other South Africans, proud every kilometre that they ride

It was only a few days ago that Barloworlds Juan Mauricio Soler won on a mountain stage. Now Hunter comes in today at great speed to get Barloworlds second stage win, and he becomes the first South African to win a stage in the Tour de France. I actually cannot believe it! It kind of gave me goose bumps watching it, as I have been waiting a long time to see him win a stage in the tour. He came close the other day, getting a second place finish.

So I sat there laughing, while wanting to cry, as our boy crossed the line in first place! He has honestly made a mockery of everyone! A South African team, a South African rider, in one of the worlds biggest bike races, and we take them to the cleaners! Quite hilarious if you ask me…

I really think that when the odds are against you, you put in your best performance. I honestly believe that Robbie wanted a win in the tour more than anyone else. He has had some criticism in the past, in letters I have read in cycling magazines, but he has just proved everyone wrong.

I’m sitting here, nearly laughing(Nearly crying) as I think how important today is in Tour de France history. I’m so emotional! It’s pretty crazy what’s going on in my mind at the moment. I wish I could just let you in for a moment, you would be on a rollercoaster ride. You would be cruising through my head and in between the many profound pieces of writing, the fountains of knowledge, the images of Jessica Alba, the pictures of Cape Town and the utter mindless stuff that I do sometimes, you would find emotions running wild caused by my man Robbie. It would be madness and I doubt you would be able to cope.

I mean, I’m hardly coping right now. It does not help that I am by myself either, no shoulder to cry on. What makes the emotions even worse is that I have just been reading the most soppy book on the planet, The Notebook. You may have seen the film. And even worse, is the fact that I watched a film this morning called The Greatest Game Ever Played. Seriously, is somebody trying to mess with my head? It’s all too much emotion! The movie follows this young golfer who ends up winning The Open, or something like that. I could not really concentrate as I tried to hold back the tears. Why the HELL was I crying during a golf movie?

I’m a mess! Seriously, all I need now is for some James Blunt to start playing and I will be crying, blowing my nose, downing a bottle of meths and I will be just about ready to call it quits on life.

I need to get a hold of myself. Yesterday I felt so good. Today things have gone remarkably pear shaped as I see myself slowly, or quickly, losing the plot. I can’t lose my composure!

Well before tears fill my keyboard up, seeping into my laptop, short circuiting the house and killing me in a blaze of glory, I shall sign out.

Oh and one other thing…Robbie, we salute you.

Sean Lloyd

Editor

A house- Like the people of yesteryear might have wanted to own

I think we are all aware that life has changed dramatically for younger people these days. No longer are we forced into doing the same job that our parents did. In the old days you would leave school and no doubt get a pretty average job, where you would work your way up, and probably retire without having ever done anything too exciting with your life. You would retire the perfect average, having the 2.2 kids, the family home, the wife, the car and let’s be honest, a pretty boring life. Things have changed and people have come to realise that there are actually other jobs out there.There are so many different markets for business these days that people leaving school are actually overwhelmed by the choice of careers they have. We also realise that we don’t want to work our entire lives, just to pay off the house and afford food. We also want to be able to enjoy our lives, enjoy our work and make some good money. The popularity of books such as “Rich dad poor dad” and the books written by various moguls such as Donald Trump and Richard Branson show that there is a trend towards making your money work for you. And it’s also about having fun.

In my parents days they would never have thought of trading shares as it is all too risky. However, with great knowledge comes great power, and hopefully great wealth. There is so much information available today that you need to read up a lot, ask questions, talk to investors and people who have made money on the stock markets. It might not give you overnight wealth, but in the long term may pay off for you.

For people not wanting to take too many risks, you can invest your money in an account such as FNB’s Money Market. This is for people wanting to invest at least R10000. While the returns may not make you wealthy, they are better than the standard interest rates that banks offer. Interest on FNB’s Money Market is calculated on a daily balance and is paid out monthly.

The current rates can be seen HERE, and they range from 4.80% through to 7.90%per annum(As of 15 July 2007)

As you can see, this is a better option than just letting your money sit in a standard bank account. While it won’t buy you a private island, it is an easy way to earn more interest on your money.

However, the best way to “play” with your money, is to do a bit of share trading. I have read a few books on this but often these books are not based on the local market, and so the best way to learn about our local market, is to attend an investment course by a local bank.

I think investing on the stock market is quite a fun way to play with money. I say play because you would not exactly use money that is set aside for food and rent to play on the stock market. First, pay off all the essentials, and then if you have some spare money, try and invest it wisely. Obviously “play” is not the right word, as you want to actually make some informed decisions, but I think money is fun to play with, especially when that playing earns you rewards.

Investing and share trading is a complicated business, but I think everyone should try and get involved in it sometime.

Locally, Standard Bank offer various courses from the beginners courses on “Getting started in shares” and “Introduction of investing” right through to the more advanced “Introduction to Single Stock Futures”

I think it is worth attending these courses, and over time hopefully you will see yourself making more money, with less effort, more leisure time, and a greater happiness.

For information on these courses, please click HERE

You can book online to attend the courses and the course on “Getting started in shares” takes place in Cape Town on Thursday 30 August 2007.

Make sure you book it, it’s worthwhile, especially for younger people. The sooner you get started, the sooner you will learn and the sooner you will(hopefully) be living the dream.

A view- Like the people of today want to experience

Sean Lloyd

Editor

It’s been a harrowing few weeks waiting to find dungeons, and we have basically been living in the Hout Bay area. Obviously much of this time has been spent sitting on the dock of the bay, wasting time, just like Otis Redding, who sang those soulful words.

You might be interested to hear this. Or you might not. Either way, I’m writing it. I was born in the 1980′s and although Otis passed in 1967 in a plane crash, I still listen to that classic song. I think it’s a testament to the true soul of music back in the days, where singers truly had a passion for music. Too many bands these days seem to be manufactured, and I cannot stand to watch these singing contests, like American Idol and the like. Granted, some of the people have a true passion for music, but others seem to be too interested in the lifestyle, and not the music. I don’t see many songs these days having much of a lifespan, which is sad. Songs are made to make quick money, and it takes away from the real life and soul of music. I regularly listen to the old classics. Who can beat Rod Stewart, Lionel Ritchie and Tom Jones- The original crooner! Never mind The Bee Gees and Queen and…the list is long and distinguished. But wait…this is not about the music. It’s about the surfing. This is not Rolling Stone magazine.

But as I type this article it seems to be about the music once again! I am listening to the music channel on DSTV and they are playing Billy Joels “Tell her about it” on the 80′s section of the music channel. What a classic beat, it’s absolutely thrilling me right now! I wish you were here sitting next to me, helping me write this article. I do need the help, as this is turning out to be one long piece of writing and I’m not sure quite how to conquer it. I often have so much inside of my head and I have no idea how to get it out. A vodka might help, but I’m not sure. Right now I have absolutely no clue how I am going to tackle this article. The enormity of it is making me shake.

So Thursday morning, 12 July 2007 had started like any other morning here at SLXS. A quick check through the internet, a look through my notebook at the ideas I had written down, and which I should write on, and a little call to my entourage, to see who was going to accompany me on the days assignment. Mike P and Jerry D were busy, and so once again Charlie V was enlisted to accompany me on the finale of “Finding Dungeons”

No ways! Tom Petty has just started playing on the music channel. It’s “I won’t back down” This music should help get the article out of me.

I had left the SLXS Palace at about 1pm and I had packed the full reporters kit, which I take everywhere with me. Moleskine notebooks, a tape recorder, iPod, digital camera, pencils, money and a few beers. Obviously being the driver, drinking is not possible but a beer is still permissible. I had made the call through to Charlie V and he was currently residing in the quaint area of Constantia in Cape Town. Constantia has the old school feel of a village. It is where the wealthy go to live and is a beautiful place to live in Cape Town and comes highly recommended by the SLXS team.

I had said to Charlie V that this was the final day of this assignment, and we must finish it. I can’t have this turning into a full excursion, where I spend all my days searching for dungeons. It was now or never, I had to do this in order to get cracking with other assignments.

A few days ago we had thought that we were on the right path to dungeons, but it seems we were a bit far off. Instead of going over the mountain, we had tried to go around it and this route seemed a bit long and tedious, so we cut the excursion right there. Today however, was another day.

I’m not quite sure if my dress code was correct. I was wearing these flaired Diesel jeans that I had bought back in High School. They have such a huge boot cut that they look like hippie bell bottoms. They go well with mirror reflective sunglasses. So I had packed the Peugeot with the reporters kit and the beer. We are currently using a car not from our personal car arsenal, as we find ourselves in the fortunate position of being able to drive a Peugeot 307 for the entire week. It is quite an awesome car, and feels about the same size as the VR3. Only it is an 1800, as opposed to the VR3′ very small 1300 engine. It’s quite awesome really, and we are sure to abuse it for the length of it’s stay.

So I had kitted it out, and I was going in the direction of Hout Bay. But first, a pick up of an entourage member at Constantia. I was approaching Constantia when the CD player on The 307 started playing that song from Reservoir Dogs. If you have seen the movie you will know the scene too well where Michael Madsen/ Mr Blonde, cuts that guys ear off while the radio plays that song where the words go “Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle with you”

I was busy driving to Constantia, and I was thinking “Wait, I am the joker, I am the clown” Seriously, I am all of these. This song was just so right, right now. Cape Towns weather was being nice to me, the sun was beating down through the 307′s semi-tinted windscreen. I was wearing the most bizarre outfit. White rimmed aviator style sunglasses, flaired Diesels, old school music. At the disposal of my right foot was a 1,8 litre Peugeot engine, which was going to be used to the max if we needed to. I sent it to the place Charlie V was staying at.

I arrived in style and found Charlie V waiting for me at the gate. Here we were, two guys in their 20′s, going in search of a feared surfing spot, with no particular idea if our directions were correct. I actually did not care anymore, I was just keen to take a drive around, maybe stop for a drink, chat to some people, relax in the winter sun.

I got out the car and gave Charlie V a beer and had one myself. We were sitting on the pavement having an ice cold Windhoek, wondering how the day would pan out for us. I had a good feeling, but that might have been from the first sip of beer. There is nothing better than the first sip, ice cold. We finished them, and decided to get going. For some bizarre reason I only had four beers at home, and now we only had two left.

Charlie jumped in the 307 as I gave it a good dose of my right foot, and we sped past the Constantia Village shopping centre. I was on the lookout for any suspicious characters, and I have no idea why. I just figured that we were being watched by some sort of government task force. Cape Town’s most feared crew, trawling through the city in search of a story. I needed to get to dungeons, it was getting late and I did not want the weather to change and start raining, delaying this voyage by another few days.

We were cruising at a good pace, and by now “Paradise City” was playing on the CD. We were interrupted when I noticed a large back up of cars. What was this? Why are we being delayed? I can’t have this, I’m on assignment, I need a police escort. I arrived at the circle at Constantia Nek and I saw a traffic cop. The car was not looking good as a few stray beer cans were rolling around. I never drink and drive, but I always find that we might throw a can in the car, and leave it there. At the end of the week, we have cans everywhere, making us look like raging alcoholics. We threw the cans in my bag, so as to avoid the cops making a big fuss about it. It was starting to look like Lindsay Lohans car, not a good thing if I am going to gain any respect with this cop. Did my parents teach me these ways? I have no idea.

I approached this cop, who was looking very proud of himself. He had reason to be proud of himself, as he had managed to commit a fashion disaster of gigantic proportions. I was wanting to throttle him, maybe give him a subscription to GQ, throw him a beer, rap him on the knuckles. But I knew this was the fatigue speaking. I had a late night and I had to keep my composure, I could not lose sight of the goal right now.

We were on our way up to Constantia Nek, which feeds into Hout Bay and it seemed that we were not allowed to continue further. It’s always odd that when you want/need to do something that there is a delay. I asked the cop if I was allowed to go through.

“Do you live in the estate?” He said, in his classic cop uniform. Massive jacket, boots, smug look on his face. The look of someone who knows he can deny us access to a specific area, which seemed to make him feel good.

“No I’m going to dungeons, in Hout Bay” I said, with an air of grace and sophistication.

“You can’t go through unless you are a resident of the estate”

“Uh…ok…thanks!”

Yeah…thanks for nothing! I’m a writer dammit, I need to get through! I should have just said I lived there, idiot! Anyway, no point in arguing with this guy I thought. He will probably have me thrown in jail for trying to interfere with the law. He will use all his power to see to it that I never write again. And he will try and have The 307 impounded. This can’t happen, I don’t even own this car. This cop obviously did not realise what this car was about. I bet he did not know that 5 minutes ago it was playing Collective Soul. Do you realise how cool Collective Soul are? Did he realise that this car was about to play Gun’s ‘n Roses? This copper had no idea what sort of fire he was playing with. He was playing with fire of the hot variety, even though I was trying to keep ice cold and calm. My nerves were twitching, but I kept it together with my absolutely amazing mind power.

I let my right foot loose and we went around the circle and headed back towards the Kirstenbosch area. From there I would connect onto the freeway, heading into town. From there I would go past Clifton, Camps Bay, Llandudno and into Hout Bay. I was abusing the current petrol in my tank, but I needed to. Apologies to global warming. I must have used double the petrol that I normally would, but I blame it on the cop. He needed to come to terms with what we were doing. He should have just let us through. His loss, the earths temperatures gain.

We eventually arrived in Hout Bay, and now The Killers were playing on the CD player. Perfect. We were all in harmony with nature and I was at good speed to finally do this article.

We rolled past the harbour. The smell of fish permeated the crisp winter air. Fishy.

I put my foot down at the turn off to some sort of derelict housing establishment above the harbour. I was told to go right to the end of this area, where I would see a cafe on my right hand side and the road would come to a dead end.

In the street on the left of us a bunch of kids were kicking a wasted soccer ball in the street. I wonder if they had dreams of being like David Beckham? Big money, big cars, small wife. Anyway, everyone was looking quite happy, and more kids sat outside their houses, playing an assortment of games. They ran carelessly into the street, something you miss out in the suburbs. I don’t see kid’s playing in the streets in my area. The kids in my area are the by product of modern society where the parents are out trying to make as much money as they can. The kids are left to play TV games. This is probably the greatest reason for kids being so unhealthy these days.

Some of the older people were working on cars, or just sitting around chatting. It seemed like a sort of paradise, but a paradise unaffected by money. And plagued by what looked to be poor living conditions.

I sent it up to the end of the road and sure enough there was a cafe on my right hand side and the road came to a dead end. It did not look like there was much of a pathway, but I parked the car anyway. I got out and a little kid came running up to me, all glassy eyed.

“Can I look after your car sir?”

“No no, we’re cool. We’re just here looking for dungeons, it is up there right?” I said, pointing up to the sand dunes.

“Yeah, do you want me to show you?”

“No it’s cool, we’re going to just cruise around and try find it, thanks”

He ran back across the road, and sat on a porch at one of the houses. He looked on, a lone figure on the empty porch. I pulled my bag out of the car and looked ahead, to where we were going to go. I believed I had the gaze of a man on a mission to conquer, but I think I might have had the look of a washed out writer. Not good, not good at all.
Charlie V got out the car and I laughed at his choice of clothing. The laughing nearly took the last of my energy away. He had seemingly dressed for a night out. Leather shoes, jeans, and a polo shirt. Little did he know we would be going through sand dunes and then down a steep rocky hill into dungeons. He opened another beer and we got walking in no particular direction. Not that my stupid hippie dress code was great either mind you. Looking around all I could see was a lot of sand, and no path. We walked up for a few metres and then took a left turn, down into a small stream. We crossed over, as mud splashed all over my shoes. I am a complete idiot. We then walked up through a stream, all the way until we reached the peak of this hill. The walk was not long but when we made the summit we were greeted with something we had been looking for for a good deal of time. It was dungeons, in all it’s glory.

The view over dungeons- It looked quite tame that day

“By the beard of Zeus” I wanted to shout. I kept it in though. We looked over dungeons for a while, scanning for any big waves and for any crazed surfers. It seems no one was surfing, and we were literally the only people at dungeons. I could not see anyone else nearby. It felt like a setting for a cheap movie scene where the zombies would take us away to the depths of dungeons soon enough. If we survived, it would be a story I could tell my kids one day. Sitting on my porch overlooking the sea, my kids would want to know what happened that day.

“Dad tell us tell us!” The little tykes would shout

“Well I’m not too sure, it might be a little too scary for you guys…”

“No TELL US!”

“Well my kids, I was 22 years old and we were out to cover an event at a famed surfing spot by the name of dungeons. It was sponsored by Red Bull and we were adamant that we would do a write up on it, even if it would consume the very last of my vast writing talent. So myself and my friend Charlie V, who you might know from those celebrity magazines, well we were running through these sand dunes when out of nowhere this little green man threw a boat at us…knocking Charlie V clean out…”

What am I doing? Let’s get back to this story. The real one. I need to stop thinking things up in my head, it’s not normal. Who do I think I am? John Grisham? Come on, keep with the story Sean.

Our view to the left- With Chapmans Peak far in the background

Ok…so…this path we were going down was beating my Tigers into nothing. Luckily for me they were really cheap, about the price of two cases of beer. Charlie V was complaining that his disco dancing shoes were about to kill his feet and eat them. We made a few stops on the way down, and our fatigue was probably due to staying up late the night before, partying in Cape Town with various people who still speak to us.

When we eventually made contact with the land at the bottom it was as if we had found gold. We were there by ourselves, massive waves crashing in the distance, a haze of mist reflecting the winter sun, the most awesome view you will ever see. There was nothing for miles and miles. You could not see any cars, houses or people. This was isolation, something you need every now and then to get away from the city. We had one extra thing packed in the backpack, a Red Bull, because this was where the Red Bull Big Wave Africa was being held. I cracked it open and we drank it in a second because we were so parched from the walk down. It was a fitting tribute to dungeons, and I found myself being mildly excited that I was away from the normal rush of a city life. It was relaxing to see waves crashing in, looking over the bay to Chapmans peak, watching a few boats cruise past in the distance and just sitting listening to the ocean.

Our view to the right- Relaxing

This was it, dungeons. A place that I would never dream of surfing in my life. It’s a place where, hopefully in the next few weeks, we will see some of the worlds best surfers surfing some of the worlds biggest waves. It’s a place where some crazy/lucky surfer will walk away with R100000 for surfing the biggest wave.It’s a place where dreams can be made and broken, where the beauty of Cape Town truly shines through. It’s also a place where you feel that you are far removed from the city life, where you are relaxed, and where you can dream.

I will obviously be back to visit dungeons when the competition organisers give the green light for the competition to go ahead.

In the meantime, if you find yourself in Hout Bay it’s probably a good idea to go for a drink or some food at The Lookout Deck. It’s quite a unique place on the waters edge at the Hout Bay Harbour and I often find myself there on a Sunday afternoon. It comes highly recommended by myself and my entourage, and many a story can be told from Lookout Deck.

Sundays are also good to visit the craft market, if you are into that sort of stuff. You can also take a drive through Hout Bay and connect onto Chapmans Peak, where you can then drive to Noordhoek for lunch. I must write on Noordhoek, it’s a beautiful place to live in and visit.

Hout Bay has that old school feel that I enjoy so much. Every day you will see people riding their horses around the area, and many of the houses have stables for horses in their gardens. It is a relaxing place and I will soon find myself in the area again.

Until then…

Sean Lloyd

Editor

As we take our time in and around Cape Town, I thought I would do some research on this Red Bull Big Wave Africa surfing event. I am embarrassed to say I have never attended it before, and so I know nothing about the event or dungeons. However, upon closer inspection it seems that dungeons made a wave last year that would make Mark Wahlberg cry. I am fairly afraid of the ocean and I don’t even really swim in it that often, because it’s not really my territory. It’s the sharks territory and so I like to keep at arms length from it. So these guys who willingly enter it, to surf these killer waves, clearly are a little mad in the head.

You know, I have done some crazy things in my life, like the days when I used to burn ants with a magnifying glass at home. I also went through a stage of playing marbles at school. Then there was the time I played hockey in standard 9, for the E team I think. Yeah, I am crazy! But these guys definitely make my achievements look like nothing!

The photo in the link below will blow your mind. I never knew the power of dungeons until I saw this beast of a wave, waiting to eat a surfer, and the entire coastline. I don’t think it was for the competition but it was surfed at dungeons and won the Biggest Wave Award at the 2006/7 Billabong XXL Global Big Wave Awards. It’s completely insane.

Anyway, if that’s what dungeons has to offer then I cannot wait to get there when the competition starts! I’m keeping an eye out on the website, so when the man goes green, and the competition starts, I am going to be there. Until then, I’m sitting around looking for other articles to write, possibly something involving cars on a race track, and the inside track on the whole thing.

But that’s for another time.

The weather in Cape Town is currently quite cold, and due to some sort of gas supply shortage, my gas heater is not working so I am in a bad place right now. But it’s still not a bad place to be, and we wait for dungeons to throw out some killers.

For the photo of the 65 foot man eater, check HERE

For more information on the event, check out their website over HERE

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

Charlie V, sitting on the dock of the bay, wasting time

As the search for Dungeons enters it’s second week, we find ourselves no closer. The Castle seems to be busy,apparently they are having various functions and it would be better if we called back next week…but can we wait? Will we have to extend our search elsewhere? I think we might. We might just find ourselves trekking through Hout Bay, getting lost, walking aimlessly, searching for dungeons.

I’m trying to infiltrate the locals minds as I sit here, trying to get closer to The Holy Grail. It’s not working very well.

Until then we find ourselves at the harbour again, possibly even hitting The Lookout Deck for a drink until another story comes up. For now we wait…for next week we conquer.

I must be honest, the weather here right now is awesome, and we are sending this live from Hout Bay. Laptop computer, 3G internet connection and the ocean before us…I’m quite relaxed.

Charlie V, get me a beer…

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

Cape Town’s most feared vehicle

The Bomber holds a special place in our hearts as it replaced one of the lands most notorious vehicles, The G-Ride. The G-Ride was on old Volkswagen Beetle and it had made many trips up to Namibia in it’s day and was truly spectacular. It was as relaxed driving slowly past Cape Town’s pristine beaches as it was clocking 120km/hr on the freeways. It was also known to kick through the sand dunes in Namibia and had quite a reputation. Unfortunately it became too old and we were tired of getting stuck on the side of the road on our way out to various excursions. So it was retired, sold for R5000. However, it was a priceless car and we had many good times in it. I was personally sad to see it go but when the replacement came, it was soon forgotten. It was probably best known for it’s paint job, that was done by hand, with spray cans, up in the sandy abyss that is Namibia.

A few upgrades were done to The Bomber. Jerry added a tint to the windows to give it an air of mystery. A huge sub was added and it’s actually too excessive for the size of the car, but that’s how you roll when you write on the life of excess. The final addition was to add some Yokohama S-Drive tyres and these have definitely given the car the edge it needed. It is impossible to wheel spin the car, you can’t lose control, and they just look fast. The Bomber is known to roll between Durbanville (The Ville), Namibia and the suburbs of Rondebosch, Claremont and generally anywhere in Cape Town. It is a noteworthy addition to the roads of Cape Town and if you blink you might miss it. No…if you blink you will miss it.

You will see us using this car when we need a turn of speed, some savvy style, or just need to cruise to the shop like rock stars.

The Bomber is a proud addition to our current fleet of vehicles.

The Bomber and it’s enigmatic pilot- Jerry D

Sean Lloyd

Editor

As we find our way around Cape Town in the hope of covering everything we find ourselves being denied photo’s of many things. Cubana was the first bizarre “Access denied” photo opportunity. Today I thought I would take a little cruise through to Sable Square with Charlie V.

Sable Square finds itself situated just past the ever popular and ever huge Canal Walk shopping centre. When I first heard a mention of this centre I thought it was going to be like Access Park in Kenilworth. I HATE access park. Everything you find there seems to be a reject of sorts. I tried on some jeans at Levi’s the other day and a button was missing and the pockets seemed to be so small that I could not fit my hand into them. Very strange. And you always need to check clothes there to see that there are no defects with them.

Sable Square solves this problem by offering you a top quality shopping centre, with no rejects. Everything there is just older stock, at vastly reduced prices. I was looking at Levi’s jeans today for R200. Granted, all the guys sizes were a 28, which is quite small. However, at a shop just down from Levi’s, of which I forget the name, they are selling loads of size 32 mens Diesel jeans for R745. Quite decent prices, if you want to live a life of excess, on a budget.

Sunglass Warehouse is definitely the ticket though! Sunglasses by the likes of Gucci, Armani and Diesel can be found there. They are found between 30% and 70% cheaper than normal retail prices. Fantastic! I even found a pair of Roy Orbison style Ray Bans, if you want to look like Roy that is. There were also some of the classic Ray Ban Aviators, for the many flying expeditions we do.

I was busy taking a photo of the centre, when security approached me and said I’m not allowed to take photos. I know this is a rule in all shopping centres and I suppose I can’t really complain. However, I think it could be good publicity for the centre. Anyway, I approached centre management, got their details and I will e-mail them soon to see if we are allowed to take a photo of the centre, legally, for SLXS.

It’s a great centre but it is looking a little sparse at the moment. Not all the shops are open but I think it could do well. It is a top quality centre, and there is a Pick ‘n Pay there and a few reastaurants also find themselves scattered around. I never ate though, instead myself and Charlie V had a nice cold Windhoek beer at Caffe Villagio. Great times.

Now if we could just get a photo of the place, you would be able to gain further insight into what makes this place so special.

For more details on the centre, where it is, and what shops it offers, click HERE

I shall be in contact with the upper echelons of management shortly, in the name of fashion.

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

Oh look, one extra seat! No space for The Editor then, Charlie V? Please also note Charlie V in the back left, laughing arrogantly as he knows that he has once again left me land bound.

Being of quite a pedigree, myself and the SLXS team don’t only resign ourselves to one form of transport. We obviously make loads of use of the now infamous VR3 and you will soon be hearing of The Bomber and The Benz. I also like to cycle my Kona mountain bike around Tokai forest, and not too long ago I found myself taking a train trip to The Brass Bell in Kalk Bay.

However, we would not be the home of excess if we were to resign oursleves to just travelling by land. We also find ourselves up high, with the birds, in the skies of Cape Town. We literally have Cape Town covered, and you can’t go anywhere without us not being there or not having been there. So it was with some nostalgia that Charlie V was scrolling through some old photos on his laptop while we sat in my lounge watching Top Gun. The lounge doubles as the office/bar/entertainment section. So while we sat there watching Iceman, Goose and Maverick battling in the skies and saying various alarming things such as “I’m too close for missiles, I’m switching to guns!” and the captain shouting “Son, your ego is writing cheques your body cant cash!” we found some old photos of Charlie V’s day at the airstrip.

I was stunned though when I saw a photo of The Green Point Stadium from up in a helicopter. As you know, the stadium has now been knocked down so that a bigger, better one can replace it for the 2010 World Cup, which is going to make Cape Town even better than it already is. It’s unbelievable that this place is going to go up another notch, I can’t quite get my head around that yet. It’s the city of dreams, the place I call home and the place I roam.

So anyway, I saw this photo of the stadium and asked Charlie V when it was taken. Charlie casually said “Don’t you remember, that was when we watched the Coca Cola Colab concert last year? Metallica and all those bands played”

Um…right…ok…let me get around this.

So while Charlie V was messing about in the sky, I was sitting down in the stadium, panting like a tired dog, sweating like I was stuck in the Sahara, and Charlie V was just having a merry go round Cape Town in the helicopter. Right, what is wrong in this equation?

I was not in the helicopter!

“Yeah you should have told me about that hey, I thought you were part of my entourage. You know, the four of us do everything together” I said, with the look of a sad little deer.

“Yeah but there was no space, it was also a last minute plan”

Well I tell you what, next time if you can’t fit the whole SLXS entourage in the helicopter, then don’t go! Or get another two or three helicopters. We can’t run the home of excess like this. We cannot go on like this, we are losing sight of the whole dream if we don’t take the whole entourage with!

Anyway, I forgave Charlie V and let him off. This time. Next time he will not get off lightly at all.

So basically what we see in these photos is a photo of Charlie V in the Robertson R44(Think this is correct, Charlie V has a habit of mixing things up) helicopter. Please also note that I am missing from this photo. Yes, while he was having the time of his life, I was waiting in the Green Point stadium waiting for bands like Seether and Metallica to play.So he went for a lovely ride, and then later on came to watch the concert. Tough life.

I must stress that the whole time he was flying, I was sweating profusely, like I was coming off some sort of insane drug addiction. Like Hunter S Thompson sweated while going through Las Vegas.

The other photo is of Charlie in front of a Harvard, quite an intense looking plane. I’m thinking of calling Charlie V a naval aviator, in tribute to our men from Top Gun.

Charlie V with the Harvard-Please note the arrogant smile as if to say “Where are you Mr Editor?!”

Obviously the photo from the sky is of the stadium. You will see me down there somewhere. Sweating. Swearing. Wondering why I, as the editor of this whole thing, as the captain of the ship, as the pilot of this plane, as the master of disaster, as the king of bling, was stuck down there by myself, alone and wondering “Where is Charlie V? He is late for the concert.”

The Green Point stadium from up in the chopper. This stadium no longer exists, making way for a 2010 World Cup Stadium

I also wanted to be doing flips in the sky. Did no one even consider me? I wanted to be like Tom Cruise. I wanted to be in the sky. I wanted to feel like a bird. I wanted to be wearing Ray Ban aviators, a leather jacket, a crisp white Dockers T-shirt, a nice pair of indigo Ernest Sewn jeans and an arrogant look on my face.

I wanted to, after the flight, get on my motorbike like Tom Cruise. At this point, an absolute stunner of a girl, who had ignored me all these previous years, would run up to my bike, wanting to chat. Wanting to rekindle the romance(That was never there). Wanting to just love me. I would be way too arrogant for this.

She would be shouting in my ear “Sean. Sean! SEAN!”

I would just continue revving my bike to the red line, and I would then cup my hand to my ear, shout “I CAN”T HEAR YOU!” and take off into the sunset, leaving her dream shattered.

That’s what I wanted. And that’s not what I got. I suppose you win some and you lose some.

Thats the respect I get for being the leader of this rat pack.

Sean Lloyd

Editor