No this story has nothing to do with me actually visiting these places but rather the weird shuffling that people do at this time of the year. I was chilling on Clifton 4th on Saturday(“Chilling” not being the right word. Pumping hot. Caught a tan in 2 hours with SPF 30) chatting to some people from Jo’burg. Well some were from Joburg and still stay there. The others(Actually only one) was from Joburg, but realised the error of her youth and took the trip to live in Cape Town. Comical.

Anyway, I had prior to this been chatting to some other people from Joburg and they had mentioned that for New Years they were all going up to Kenton and Ox-Braai and all the usual debaucherous places that people go to for New Years. I then scanned my friends list and checked who was here in Cape Town and realised that everyone had left and I was holding down the fort here in Cape Town by MYSELF! Ludicrous. Even worse is that I have friends who are in Peru, New York and Botswana during these times.

What makes the situation even more hilarious is that I’m staying by myself in Llandudno right now. It’s madness! I have literally just been chilling at the pool all day, even though the beach is just a stroll away. It’s so leisurely! Might light up the braai now, cook an entire chicken(Fowl) for myself and see what happens.

What I wanted to say though was this whole Joburg, Cape Town, Kenton thing. All the people from Joburg flock to Cape Town during the holidays, obviously keen to escape Joburg. All the Cape Town people flock to Hermanus to their holiday houses but most importantly all the young people go up to Kenton. This is all well but who the hell goes to Joburg? The Joburg people even go to Kenton.

Word is no one really visits Joburg. Apparently it’s just quiet up there as everyone has left for places with ocean and laid back people( Ummm…Cape Town) So that explains why Cape Town is so ridiculous at this time. Mmmmm…Tourism in Joburg must be booming. Can’t really complain down here in the Cape as the tourists constantly pour in, to see things such as Robben Island, Table Mountain and that new statue of myself in the Waterfront.

Oh sorry I’m looking 5 years ahead on that statue. Sorry.

Clifton on Saturday was the usual mess, and I would have preferred my preferred beach, but it was not up to me. The party liason also put in a line about Bakoven, something about bronzed gladiators. There was the usual stuff going on and for once I was actually stunned. We had the ice cream guys going mental, loads of beautiful people and also the girl breastfeeding her child on the beach. Mind you she was in one of those tent things, but from where we were we could still see all the happenings. And no, it is not a fetish of mine to watch people breastfeeding babies on the beach, I’m just saying it happened and I thought I should let you know. Got milk?

Clifton is actually looking good at the moment with people coming round with bags to throw your rubbish in and the cops patrolling with walkie talkies and binoculars. Although I think we all know why they have binoculars! Sneaky sneaky! Clifton has that Blue Flag status thing going on, so it’s top notch.

It’s still a bit crowded at Clifton at this time of the year though and I will stick to the pool with the ocean view.

As we sit here on the last day of the year, it’s a time to chill out, pour a drink, get ready for whatever party you are going to, and realise that 2008 is going to get crazy.

Tomorrow should be a bit of a spectacle at the beach so I will be on it. And to those of you planning on spending the evening at Dunes in Hout Bay, word is they always plan something special for New Years Eve.
Sean Lloyd

Editor 

I’m constantly amused by the people who sell bottled water and all that stuff on Clifton beach. It’s SUCH a scam! Mind you, I suppose they don’t work in winter, so they need to harass summer. But the way they do it is so sneaky.

I went to buy some bottled water, which they are selling for a cool R7. So I gave the women working at the stall(Now sponsored by Pepsi) a R50 note(50ZAR) She gave me my change, and said that she did not have any more change and that I should fetch my R1 that she owes me later. I said “Cool” and then looked through my change because I know they constantly try and trick me. Either that or they just cannot count.

She had given me R32 change. Essentially I was paying R18 for a 500ml bottle of water. Minus the R1 she said I could fetch later and it’s R17 for the water. So I queried it and she said “Oh yeah” and gave me another R10.  But she did it all so cool, as though she always scams people like this!

Last time I was at Woolworths I was mistakenly charged twice for something and the lady at the till could not apologise enough, she really did not mean to short change me by R20. But this women selling water probably does this fairly often.

But my absolute favourite trick is when they say “Sorry we don’t have enough change, come and get it later” They know that it’s small change like R1 or R2 and nearly everyone will forget about it. Yesterday I did. I couldn’t care less about losing R1, but at the end of their work day, I rate they have made a decent amount of extra cash by saying “We don’t have change”

They know Cape Town at this time of the year is crazy mad, and that they should make sure they have change. They know that you will forget about the money and they can pocket it. I don’t really mind, it’s not like they are making millions of rands off of it. It’s not The Health and Racquet Club after all! But if they want extra cash, just add it into the price of things.

That way they are making more money, but I don’t feel cheated as it were.

Otherwise it was a good day. A little bit hot for me after 3 hours in the baking heat though. I was sweating SO much.

Thought you might like to know that.

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

You remember those days, the days of wearing those inferior sunscreens? The ones that turned your face into an oil slick? Yeah, they worked at protecting you, but at a price.

You would spend the day at the beach thinking “Wicked cool, going to be tanned to impress the angels out tonight!”

Little did you know that the grease content in those creams(Such as Everysun Aquasport) would have you breaking out like Lindsay Lohan in rehab. You would go out and notice that your face resembled a 14 year old who lives on a diet of McDonalds and Coca Cola. Chicks would not dig it and you would definitely not come right.

The girls would be asking “So you use protection?”

“Yeah can’t you see the Saudi Arabian oil slick on my face?” You would reply, all geeky and goofy.

As you got older you heard of these creams that were not like this. The “expensive” ones. However “expensive” should not be used here, because you can’t put a price on healthy skin that does not look like a teenagers. You also heard of the words “non comedogenic” which means that these creams won’t clog your skin up.

I mean, obviously the guys reading this have heard these words? Don’t we all read Cosmopolitan? Come on don’t lie! I know you read your sisters or girlfriends Cosmopolitans!

Well I do anyway…

Right! Anyhoo…

So when I heard I was going to Misverstand, I knew that the heat was going to be sort of in comparison to the sun, and so went out and spent some good cash on a quality cream. I went to that surf shop in Cavendish Square, called Billabong, opposite Stuttafords, near the entrance to Primi Piatti. That one.

Well I walked in there and was looking at all the creams, when I settled on the SPF15. The guy working there was on the ball and said I should go for the SPF30, which was wise. Usually I find that shop assistants get in my way, but this guy was clever. He obviously noticed by my body language and general character that I was about to go to Misverstand. Or like everyone else he read my article and recognised me when I walked in. He obviously did some prior research and found out that on the day of my arrival in Misverstand, the mercury would be fishing in the mid 40′s. So he recommended a good product for me. Well done buddy, you saved my life. Seriously you did. Give the man a raise.

Aloe Up- Yes yes yes!

So the cream in question is made by Aloe Up and is called Pro SPF 30 Sport Lotion. Being the budding sportsman that I am, it suited me perfectly. I quickly scanned the tube to see what it had to offer me for R140.( 140 ZAR) This is what it had to say:

Aloe based dry lotion

Sweat resistant

Non-greasy

Biodegradable

Brilliant! It was actually sounding too good to be true. I then turned the tube around and it startled me even more. Goodness gracious! This is what it had to say:

PABA free( No idea what that means)

Alcohol free (Sigh…)

Mineral oil free

Fragrance free

And then unlike products where it says “With aloe!” and then you read the label and it has extracts of aloe amountung to about 0.5% of the actual products, Aloe Up contains a whopping 35% aloe vera gel! Wooooooow!

You remember that time you went to Sandy Bay and burnt your chap, and your girlfriend told you to put aloe gel on it? Exactly, if the girlfriend says it, it must be good. Aloe has been used for ages to treat skin conditions and especially sun burn. Now you get to wear after sun ingredients, in the sun, genius!

On a side note I actually have a bottle of pure aloe gel in my fridge. Two tablespoons every day, in my mouth, down down down, into this temple of a body! What, you think I keep this temple out of the ruins by not feeding it the right stuff? Ha!

Enough of what the bottle says. How did it work in real life? All I can say is AWESOME!

I would put it on in the morning, it would go on dry, and had a nice natural fragrance to it(It is fragrance free, but the ingredients obviously have some sort of a natural fragrance to them). Best of all, no one got burnt! The 45 degree celsius heat is hectic, and the Aloe Up lasted us through all the wakeboarding and mucking about in the water for hours on end. I did reapply it often, but just to be safe. You never know when you have been wearing life jackets if it might rub off. But it seems to stick, and everyone survived the sun safely!

Damn I’m impressed. What impresses me even more is the fact that no one seems to know about Aloe Up! I love finding new things, to treat all of you. Like the time I found the worlds best deodorant, Naturally Fresh Deodorant Spray(Click HERE for that deodorant) Anyway, no one seems to know about Aloe Up, and it’s not easily available, but surf stores seem to be the ticket. I was at a surf store in Somerset Mall in Somerset West the other day, and they had it there.

Also, our Billabong boys and girls in Cavendish Square stock it. Seriously, ask for Aloe Up by name.

You would be a fool to use anything else. And when you try pull into that model at La Med on Sunday, and I barge in and pull her, know that is has nothing to do with my natural charm(I actually have none), but rather the fact that you look like an oil rig, and I look tanned and non greasy.

Don’t blame me. I’m not the one who went all cheap on the sunscreen.

Drop the R140, slam on the cream, throw yourself on Llandudno and laugh at the people swimming in grease.

Then hit La Med and impress.

Click ALOE UP for the Aloe Up website. Seriously, have a good look at that site. Be impressed. Thank me on Llandudno. No problem…

Sean Lloyd

Editor

I received a Facebook invite ( Is the world now turning to Facebook for invites?) concerning the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate Horse race, which takes place at Kenilworth Race Course in Cape Town this coming Saturday, the 29th of December 2007.

I have never actually attended the event, and I’m not sure if I will make it this year due to the end of year mess that everyone no doubt finds themselves in. It seems that at the end of the year we are as busy as we are at the beginning of the year. It is crazy around these Cape Town parts!

Anyway, the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate Horse Race is obviously sponsored by none other than L’Ormarins, the wine label. Apparently the L’Ormarins race is seen as the form race for the J&B Met, which takes place six weeks later.

Oh yes! The Met! It is undeniably one of the biggest parties of the year. I spent it last year at the tent hosted by the Culture Lab clothing label, available at YDE. It was madness! Obviously the constant supply of vodka and Red Bull helped proceeding along smoothly, but the J&B Met is always a good occasion.

I don’t even want to think of the Met right now. It makes my mind go crazy!

So that’s it, the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate Horse Race.

This Saturday.

29 December 2007

Kenilworth Race Course

Cape Town

South Africa

Time: 11am- 12pm(According to my Facebook invite)

More information on the L’Ormarins Queen’s Plate Horse Race over HERE.

Sean Lloyd

Editor

I spent a decent part of my life trying to be intellectual all the time, trying to make a meaningful contribution to conversations. Then I cruised into high school and met the craziest bunch of people of my life. We literally took everything as a joke and everything we said was sarcastic. I don’t recall a day at school where I actually bothered to be serious. And that is how I came to live this life: Through a network of friends that will probably laugh at me if I fall over and break something, and only then help me up. But I would do the same in return, so it’s all fair.

That brings us to the section of the Misverstand Diaries where we just clowned around, literally the entire time! Between wake boarding, skiing, knee boarding, tubing and putting on SPF 500 we managed to break all the rules. Because that what we like to do; break the law!

It was quite a natural and serene setting we found ourselves in, which was naturally broken once we arrived. This might have us banned from attending in future, but you only live once, so max everything out. Which is what we do. I remember the one morning, the peacocks had come to our door looking for food. I took one look at the beer in my hand and said to this bird:

“Not a %&#$ buddy! Go drink at the dam.” I said, SCOLDING the bird.

Brendon, being a more upstanding member of society took to the kinder side of his heart, and crumbled up his bread, and fed it gently to the birds. For a moment I looked at the birds, in their natural setting, and realised that man and beast can work as one. As a harmonious team. It nearly brought a tear to my eye. It was then that I realised that this was a new side to me. The sensitive side that will cry when a butterfly dies, or shed a tear for the bee that drowned in the dogs water bowl.

Brendon: Sensitive

But I realised everything I am based on, and everything I have lived for my entire life, has been based on having a laugh and at times being mean in order to be funny. Realising that I hated the new sensitive Sean, I downed my early morning beer and slammed the bottle on the table, FURIOUS that I had two sides. I don’t want a sensitive and a daring side. I want one side. I don’t want to be schizho. I’m not like a piece of paper; there is only one side to this story, and it’s the devilish side. With my beer now fallen over, I took a run up from inside the house to fool the birds.

The poor bastards would never have seen me coming. I shot out the door like a rabid cheetah and bounded past Brendon who was shocked at my sudden arrival. I leaped and start frog hopping after these little buggers, determined to give them a good run. All they had done the entire time was eat our bread and walk around. And we all know that leads to weight gain. I didn’t want fat peacocks around. So I took them for a run. As captured by this action shot, I’m the best personal trainer around.

Anyway, I heard one of the birds chirping me:

“Hey Sean why you so skinny? Eat something. Oh look you have Wednesday legs” The bird said.

“What did you say?” I replied, snarling my top lip.

“I said you have Wednesday legs. As in ‘When’s dey gonna break!’ Ha ha ha! ”

“Well done bird, so you think you funny? You think you are suddenly Mr Ricky Gervais?”

“Yes I do”

“Listen bird. I’m human. I have the keys to a 4.0L Jeep Wrangler and it will mangle you. I will literally drive you into the ground. Don’t mess with the bull young bird, because you’ll get the horns”

“Try me” The bird replied back.

With that I casually walked inside.

“Charlie give me the keys to the Jeep. Now.”

“Why?” Charlie enquired.

“Because I said so”

At that Charlie threw the keys like a boomerang, and the keys swung into my hand. I fired the engine up, and two minutes later the last thing the bird saw going through it’s mind was a massive tyre.

Bird: Trashed

“How you like them tyres?” I said to the bird.

It never replied.

After the fury the bird caused me I wanted to break more rules. The first rule to actually breaking rules is to find the rules in the first place. We found a little sign saying “No stone throwing” We looked for not a stone, but a rock, and threw it. Funny enough no one bothered stopping us.

Breaking the law! Breaking the law!

We literally set the place on fire(Figuratively…in a literal way…whatever…) with our wicked witty styles. Naturally after punishing one bird, the others never learned their lesson and we did not want to have to take the Jeep out again. So I recruited something more bio-friendly. Yeah…I used one of the cats that had been bouncing around all nimbly bimbly from tree to tree, drinking milk out of a saucer and eating mice. I set it upon the peacocks.

Four birds. One puss. No boots. No mayhem.

Unfortunately it was too lazy and did bugger all.

Do I have to do everything around here? I realised that we had spent too much time with these birds and just decided to leave them to their own devices.

They have no idea what life is about. Especially the language barriers encountered in this area…

(P.S Naturally no bird was actually harmed in the making of this fine piece of literature. The bird in picture was already dead when we arrived. So before you go all PETA and SPCA on me, chill out…I’m not that mean!)

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

As you all know, SLXS decided on a little trip down to Misverstand for a couple of days last week. Just to clear our heads, get away from the fans and carve up the dam. Arriving in Misverstand was no easy feat and we had many obstacles to overcome before we could sprawl ourselves on the deck of the boat with a beer in our hands and the sun bronzing us. We left our home town of Cape Town, as we have to bid her farewell from time to time in order to get more out of the surrounding areas, and bring you tales of a life of excess and adventure.

Obviously when driving anywhere in the world you are going to find FOOLS on the road! The road to Misverstand is absolutely peppered with long distance trucks, and you are forced to sit behind them like a naughty little kid. It’s not really a problem though because these guys are just doing their jobs. But then we get other twits inhabiting the road, who we just want to punch.

The drive in the Lamborgreenie was one of absolute hilarity, as my driver, none other than Charlie V(Himself) went ballistic at all times. Firstly, when piloting the Lamborgreenie at 140km/hr(Possibly faster, but let’s not mention that, it’s not exactly street legal) down a highway, it is imperative that we have a clear right of passage. Unfortunately, some people were put on this earth to stop our chariot from driving full speed into the Misverstand dream. We had cars pulling out in front of us at the most inopportune moments, forcing a full pumping of the brakes, and full use of foul language and the bird. More on the bird in a moment.

The road is also highlighted by various alarming things. It is as dry as the Kalahari, and at sections where you think there must be no life, you will find a guy riding his bicycle, wearing long pants and talking on his cellphone. You feel like you are in some sort of twilight zone out there.

Then there are the times when you think that it is the most boring piece of road you have ever seen and then something happens.

“Wept, there is the cheese mouse!” I shouted to Charlie V

“What the f&*% is the cheese mouse?” Charlie V replied, agitated that we were sharing the road with such fools.

“I dunno, some sort of cheese place out in the middle of nowhere. Dude this place is strange, don’t stop, it feels like one of those weird movies where if we stop we will definitely be slaughtered and fed to the inbreds.” I replied.

The road to Misverstand is a weird one. You are driving along, minding your own business and listening to Bob Dylan, when out of nowhere, a damn cheese place called “The cheese mouse” pops up, literally scaring the last bit of life out of you. The life that is left after the 45 degree celsius heat has sucked your soul out. That is no joke, on our day of arrival, the temperature guage on the Jeep Wrangler let us quietly know that the mercury was pushing a cool 45.8 degrees celsius. Which is great if you are a camel. But not cool if you are a city man of excess.

I thought I would die on the road to Misverstand. I was just waiting for night to settle in and for Charlie V to take a wrong turn and we end up, two best buddies, struggling for survival as the cannibals close in on the scent of our sweetly fragranced sex panther to which many ladies have fallen prey. And now we are the prey. I never let Charlie V know this though, and instead acted ice cool the whole drive up.

I was constantly interrupted by the swearing of a trooper, as Charlie dug deep to find the particular filth that was flying out his mouth. It was actually more poetry than anything else, as to hear language of that calibre was more of an experience than a shock really.

“*$&%# #^&@ get the %*&$ off the $%&*!@# road you $%&#!” This was pretty much the theme all the way up to Misverstand, and all the way back home from Misverstand. It’s humour like this that you cannot find on a cereal box.

Naturally we had some fool pulling onto the side of the road in front of us, necessitating thighs of thunder to slam the brakes into action as we had to avoid him not only to save our car, but our entire lives(Everything you people reading this no doubt live). People have a thing for just randomly slowing down, no indicators, and pulling to the side of the road. What on earth they pull to the side of the road for in the Misverstand area is completely beyond me. It shatters me because trust me, there is bugger all to see on those roads. Unless your current fetish is for harvested corn fields, stray dogs and 45 degree celsius heat. Oh I’m sure we can throw in a couple of cannibals as well. They probably come out at night. The Witching Hour. The Human Harvesting Hour.

Naturally we have more than one mode of transport(Choppers, Hummers, The VR3) and we needed to move the boat around at Misverstand, so the natural choice was the Jeep Wrangler 4.0L. That car is the most fun you can have with your clothes on! Not to say that we drove it with our clothes on. What would a week away be without some naked midnight driving?! Keep that on the down low, it’s not exactly society legal.

The Jeep Wrangler. Personal philosophy? Clothing optional…

The Jeep Wrangler is more of a jet than a car, and the power it holds is quite scary. Look, it’s safe to say that it’s not quite safe for the environment, but soon we won’t have to worry if the world gets itself into gear and makes the TESLA ROADSTER commercially available. Obviously this is electrically powered. In order to startle you more(Than I already have in our short relationship) I will blind you with the fact that our Pretoria boy Elon Musk is the brains behind Tesla motors. He also started a little thing called “Pay Pal” You know…you might have heard of it. In the July/ August edition of GQ South Africa, they mentioned that USA Today estimates Elon’s fortune at some $200 million. Clearly a case of having a few pennies rolling around the piggy bank. Well he did sell PayPal to eBay for $1.5 billion, so that explains a lot.

But you might be thinking “That just means you will charge the Tesla Roadster with electricity at home, that is produced from burning coal”

No no, SLXS have thought of this. Add in some solar power cells at your house, maybe let the government invest in some GEOTHERMAL POWER and get our scientist chaps to work on nuclear fission. There we go.

BOOM! Loads of electricity to power our cars.

So that’s that discussion sorted. Now back onto the Jeep Wrangler. I’m pretty sure the Jeep is the car you would use to tow your Hummer if it got stuck. It’s also the car that let’s people know that you are laid back, enjoy a good time maybe with some fine wine and that you like adventure. It’s actually a lifestyle vehicle, as opposed to just another form of transport. It says a lot about you. Cool, calm, collected, devilishly handsome, tanned, toned…OK well that’s enough about me, how about you darling?

I’m joking. It’s just that it’s Boxing Day and it’s clearly Millers time. SMS the number under the cap for cool prizes.

Look I’m getting sidetracked. Anyway, the boat we were using was not global warming friendly either, with a little Yamaha V-Max with 200 horses under its hood. This necessitated Brendon driving the Jeep up to Misverstand with a cool 125 litres of petrol laden inside it. If Brendon had crashed, it would have literally caused a nuclear explosion. I wasn’t too worried though because I was not driving it up. As my parents always used to say “Rather safe than sorry!”

How do they fit 200 horses in that small thing on the back?

So in all our excess we had a 4.0L beast for the road and a 200 horse power animal for the water. At the rate we were going, oil wells around the world were screaming in agony and Al Gore was shouting us down, like those teachers at school did. You remember the ones? The ones with no kids, who acted like they actually hated you and they hated their jobs. The ones that would keep you in at break times, and you would think “Is this your way of making yourself feel powerful? By keeping a bunch of school kids in at break time?” Those same teachers who you walk past now and say “I win”

There are of course the other teachers who were awesome, and we now share a beer with them at Forres and give them high fives when we see them.

These are the cool teachers who we don’t give the bird to. No, we keep the bird saved for special occasions, like those occasions where we are driving to Misverstand and people just pull to the side of the road, no indicators, which makes our lives flash before our eyes. We keep the bird for them.

Giving bad drivers “The Bird”

The Chariots Of Fire section will lead us swiftly into the next part of The Misverstand Diaries, aptly entitled “The Class Clown Sessions” Stay tuned(Or dialed up or whatever you want to call it, Einstein)

Sean Lloyd

Editor

If you ever wondered why excess is the theme here on this website, we need to look no further than the following quote:

Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess- Oscar Wilde

I leave you with that, as we fast approach another year of excess. Let’s make it HUGE!

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

To all the readers who celebrate Christmas, I hope it’s a good one for you!

Personally it’s not too great for me as the effect of partying last night with Santa is taking its toll. Myself and Santa decided that Mrs Claus would need to stay put in the North Pole while we hit Cape Town hard with jager bombs, Absolut Bling vodka and USN Spike and all the rest that goes with a good party. Naturally the reindeer made a late night pit stop at Barcellos where we ordered the R18,95 two chicken burger special. I must say, chicks dig the reindeer!

I did not want to give any girls a lift though, because I wanted them to lift me. Only because I have always wanted to ride a bike, and when a girl offers me a lift I can throw out the classic “I hope you’ve got a big trunk. ‘Cos I’m putting my bike in it!”

Anyway I have things to do today, including penning The Misverstand Diaries, having a braai and doing all sorts of other weird things that occupy my time constantly. Santa should drop your presents off later. Don’t leave milk and cookies though, he is seriaaaasly hung over! He needs something more substantial.

A KFC family meal might sort him out though.

Enjoy it.

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

I can’t believe it’s already Christmas tomorrow! Actually I can…but it seems that the thing to say just before anything happens is “I can’t believe…” This is usually followed by wide eyes, a deep breath and a drop of the jaw(Females especially love the drama of these situations, pushing the limits sometimes). Why can nobody believe anything happens these days? “Oh my God I can’t believe another year has gone by!” and “Oh my God I can’t believe how quickly the kids grow up!” What’s not to believe?

Anyway. So after spending the week in the hell fires of Misverstand, I was back to the place we call home just in tome for some weekend shenanigans. We ended up doing a family and friends vibe at the summer residence of choice, the Llandudno pad. This was on Saturday. Much time spent bronzing lent its hand to bouts of dehydration which were cured by Savannah, Woolworths beer shandy, beer, water and a nice afternoon Weber with chicken and the leg of a lamb rounded off the occasion.

Llandudno- Not the worst place to be

The weather was spectacular and after bending the day, the only thing that seemed right to do was take the 5 minute walk from the house to Llandudno beach. Not too bad, not too bad at all. The bags were packed with all sorts of stuff to eat and drink, and we watched the sun miraculously go very low over the ocean, and all of a sudden it was gone. It seems like the other half of the world was keen for some sun, so Cape Town lent it to them for a couple of hours. It was fine though because it came back. It seems it always does. It’s nice though, because the sun only leaves Cape Town at night, which is when it is dark anyway, so it does not really affect us.

Sundowners at Llandudno- A necessary part of the excess life

Oh can you feel it!

On the other hand, if the sun buggered off when it was daytime, and hence light, we would be in a predicament. It would be light outside, minus the warmth coming from the sun. This would trick our bodies. It would be light and cold, which would have my body too confused to function. It’s too scary to even think of…

Conversation of the day was peppered with musings on how blindingly beautiful the view was, how much longer the food needed to cook, how many more drinks were needed to be bought, how much sunscreen we should be using and again what a beautiful day was. All this conversation was terribly stressful and I found myself walking in and out of the house, wondering if the view of the ocean was better from the couch in the lounge, the chairs on the patio of from the pool. The pool won on the day, and as we sat there with our feet in the cool water, the sun beating down on us and plenty of friends, drinks and food, we all wondered what could be better than this particular day in Cape Town.

I obviously mentioned that a bit of a helicopter pad in the garden would be ideal, but that idea was scrapped knowing that the noise of Terry flying the chopper in would probably irritate the neighbours no end. It would be funny though. Take the chopper from the house to the beach. You know…just for a laugh. It does seem a bit excessive though, even for my taste.

Sandy Bay is near the Llandudno house, just thought I would let you know. For those of you unaware, Sandy Bay is where people go to tan kit off. Not quite my choice in life. IMAGINE trying to explain to someone why your main boy is standing to attention, saying “Oh no it’s just the pleat in the pants. It’s actually an optical illusion. I’m actually taking the pants back now, to the pants store” Only to realise you are not wearing any pants.

Look this is not to say I ever get a pleat in my pants on the beach and have to lie on my stomach while my body gets an uneven tan. I’m OBVIOUSLY just talking in generalities, and have heard via the grapevine that this has happened to people on the beaches of Cape Town. It’s actually all hypothetical really.

No really, it is.

My pants don’t even have a pleat.

I’m sort of off the topic, but what I wanted to say is that if you find yourself in Cape Town on a day that is beautiful(Pretty much any day), then make the trip to Llandudno for some sundowners. It was good, real good.

I need to go now, the shops are going to be a mess of people as everyone does the last bit of Christmas shopping.

I actually can’t handle it, but I’m going to have to.

I could think of nothing worse so wish me luck.

Sean Lloyd

Editor

Well hello there! Just a quick little note to say that I’m back and you know it! I survived a pretty scorchingly hot few days at Misverstand and have a little report back on that coming up next week. In fact the whole of next week may very well be consumed by “The Misverstand Diaries” Some bizarre things happened and the general area there is quite interesting.

The people, the atmosphere, the temperature and the feel of it all make for some interesting times. I’m not typing much today and I’m not even in Cape Town right now, but I will be tonight.

I can’t really report on anything as I’m a bit out of touch with the city, and still trying to wipe the SPF 30 cream off me, after spending the better part of all my hours in the blazing sun this week. It actually felt like it was the weekend, but it’s all the same really.

It’s good to be back though and I’m quite sure that if you check in on Monday there will be something new, groundbreaking and insightful that I will have to offer you.

That’s it for now. I mean, even superheroes have to take a break from time to time.

Don’t they?

 DON’T they?

DON’t THEY?

Is anybody there?

Am I even typing this?

Is this computer real?

 See you next week.

Sean Lloyd

Editor

Such is the life of leisure, pleasure and excess that we find ourselves going on a little excursion to Misverstand near Cape Town for a spot of braaing, wakeboarding, chilling and maybe even some late night streaking.

I received an sms with the following in it “Prepare to enter a week of excess you little bitch!”

Look I do feel for you. I’m sure a closed office this time of the year is extremely hot. But do feel for us…it is going to be scorchingly hot in Misverstand! Obviously this will be offset by Misverstand being a DAM! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

It’s going to be glorious. Suntanning, probably a quiet little braai, a little evening drink, late night chats at the fire discussing our plans to dominate the world of leisure and pleasure even further, discussing world domination plans and generally discussing ways for us to lead a more excessive life, filled with laughter and friends.

I need to go pack my bag. I think I will just take some sunblock and boardshorts.

Don’t expect fireworks shooting out of your screen this week, I’m only back on Thursday or Friday.

I know you are going to miss me but I will be dreaming of you.

–This– is me leaving.

Soon…

Sean Lloyd

Editor 

I’m actually writing this not knowing what the hell I’m supposed to write. I don’t have anyone telling me what to write over at this place and pretty much have free reign to type anything that my mind conjures up. Most of the stuff thought up by mind is too hectic to post here, and so I keep it inside my head, not letting anyone know about it. It comes out in random pieces, usually after a few drinks, maybe at weddings. So the plan was to hit up the Urban Wave Pacha Ibiza party on Friday night in Cape Town, which went down smooth. Mmmmm…drink it in.

I think we arrived at the Pacha Ibiza party at about 9pm, and did not find ourselves leaving until about 3am. Obviously after getting lifted to Barcellos near Gardens for a little late night R18,95 two chicken burger special. The girls walking into Barcellos at that time of the night were a treat. No doubt they were thinking the same thing when looking at the SLXS crew.

I was a complete moron on Friday and in the excitement of getting ready for this party, I left my phone and camera at home. Which is why I need to contact my contacts and get some photos from them. My popularity is quite clear though when you look at the amount of sms’s I get when on a Friday night, I leave my phone at home for hours and no one contacts me. I did get two sms’s though. Both were the same, sent by Jerry D saying “How is the party going son?” Great.

Anyway, after going tits off on the dance floor for a good few hours, I had seen a couple of enchanting things.

One was the smoking hot dancers they had organised. They always seem to get dancers who must double up as the hottest girls to be found in Cape Town. A highlight(Personally) was the dancer on the left hand side, whose top(A corset style thing going on) was definitely a little bit toit (You are toit Mr Powers, toit like a toiger) It lent itself to pushing her boobs out in a most spectacular fashion. I can honestly say she was the most beautiful girl I have seen lately. The little nipple slips however had a crowd of guys shouting and screaming, throwing applause on her. Well done, you outdid yourself. Reminds myself and Charlie V of that other nipple slip we saw about two or three weeks ago. It’s always a treat. Enough said…wait…too much said already…

Whoever hired out the dancers needs to give that girl a handsome tip, because she went above and beyond the call of duty. Which is always nice and special.

Another highlight was the old guy wearing a vest and blue glasses, dancing like a demon for hours and hours on end. Interesting.

The quote of the weekend has to be this one:

Walking to the Spar, “Do you think there will be any hot girls in the Spar that I can hook up with?”

Hectic. Hectic. Hectic.

Other quote of the weekend, to an actual person, “You look lovely, I’ll have you”

I hit up the wedding on Saturday evening, taking co-anchor so as to be accompanied by someone who I could have a good laugh with by doing ridiculous things. It also allowed me to not be seated arbitrarily at the singles table, which is blind. The after party smash up(“Reception” if you are a stickler) took place at the hallowed ground of my second home, Kelvin Grove.

I was dressed like Hollywood superstar(Not really, but it can’t hurt to pretend) and myself and my brother were at some point in the evening asked to make a speech. The speech had been written up in a fury at the last minute, taking about twenty minutes to write. I do write better under pressure though. Naturally my witty rhyming styles, coupled with myself and my brothers expertly voice trained delivery of the speech, had people falling to the floor in fits of laughter. It’s nice to have people laughing with me for a change! So I felt famous for a few moments, until the excitement died down and I was found to be hitting the bar hard with my Kelvin Grove membership card.

The great thing is that on my card, I don’t have to know how much I have spent until I receive my account. That’s when I freak out and under pressure, find resources to pay my bill. Selling my soul…begging…stealing…this all comes into play. I can also probably conveniently say “Oh no it’s cool, my old man has an account here, he’s been a member since 1970(True story), transfer the bar tab onto him. While you are at it throw the sushi onto his account as well. Can I use my Kelvin Grove card to pay for property?”

I’m just saying…I could probably do it.

I was actually a little bit scared at the reception, which I believe took place in “The Brodie Room” at Kelvin Grove. I ordered a round of drinks and coolly threw my card behind the counter, saying “I’ll pay this in plastic” The barman then made me aware that it was a cash bar. So there I was with liquor and no cash. Luckily, a light was shining down on me, and a manager of sorts there said “For a Kelvin Grove member, anything, throw it on the card” Thanks buddy, I owe you. Literally. I probably owe you more than I think I owe you.

Highlights of the wedding included the uncomfortable hugs/kisses with friends of your parents who you have not seen since the grounding of the Ark. You lean on for the kiss and hug, they just lean in for the kiss. You attempt the hug, pull away, and then they see you went for the hug so they pull you in for the hug. They pull you in as you are pulling away and you kind of fall over, one arm stretching for the hug, the other keeping your balance, and you just find yourself laughing at the hilarity of the situation.

Seriously, I don’t get embarrassed anymore. I just don’t. I do so many stupid things in life that when the next embarrassing thing happens, I just think of how funny it will be when I tell people. I’m always up for making people laugh.

I was cruising around talking to people whose names I did not know and I did not recognise, but somehow they knew me and were amped for a chat. So I put in a few talking sessions and then realised that I had neglected the Britter. I walked outside to the balcony to find her laughing uncontrollably, by herself. I obviously thought she was mad, which I’m still convinced she is. The lifestyle of sushi and cocktails will take it’s toll on any sane mind.

It turns out she was playing with the shadows on the wall, and she was pretending to give people drinks and making the most hilarious things happen with the shadows. Once everyone had cottoned onto this, it got filthy. My brother was behind someone, someones hand was…You know what? Let’s keep that to myself.

Playing with shadows: Time consuming

Ended up missing out on the penthouse apartment party(Heated pool, with a view of pretty much the whole of Cape Town, shame) due to the fact that the wedding celebrations went on quite long.

Missed the SAA Open final day on Sunday as well, blowing my chances of winning the tournament. I woke up on Sunday and it was raining, so I made the call through to Jerry D in Stellenbosch and he said it was raining there as well. I was not too amped to watch golf in the rain. It’s a pity, I had literally been waiting the whole week to get in a days viewing. I’m just trying to think of anything bad I have done recently, and why I get punished by choosing to go the the golf on the day it rains. I’m not even sure if it was really raining in Paarl…I think the weather turned out alright there. So that’s quite depressing that I missed it.

The braai today has taken it all out of me. I’m spent.

Luckily Midmar in town was open today…

Sean Lloyd

Editor

Obviously today was a public holiday in Cape Town. Don’t ask me what it was for because I have no idea. I actually was not aware that there were any other days on the calendar. I thought chilling was just a part of life. Anyway I decided that we should probably celebrate just for the sake of celebrating and at the last moment sent the VR3 through to Midmar liquor store in town to get some drinks for the chicks that we were to invite over.

Knowing a fair amount about drinks and girls, I knew they would enjoy a Savanna as the boys cooked a meal fit for a king in the Weber. I was cruising through Midmar in town, in my element, when I thought I would try out a couple of the Savanna “Chill Packs”

Savanna Chill pack- Chicks dig it!

It’s quite clever really. What they have done, is made a box of 12 Savanna’s(Enough to feel the loving feeling) and packaged them inside some sort of inner lining that is water proof. So you get home, fill the box with ice, and leave it on the patio or beside the pool. It’s like a mini fridge of Savanna.

Chicks dig Savanna but they dig this party pack even more! The first comments were the usual “Oh my God that’s SO clever” Thanks darling, we all know that I am clever.

After that the comments were more to my liking “Sean will you marry me?” I thought I was going to get lucky! No such luck though…

Seriously though it was crazy and the girls were looking at me with that loving look in their eyes. And all I had done was spent a few hundred bucks on drinks!

Once all the food was cooked we were not quite in shape to eat and so ended up cleaning up the party packs before the ice even had a chance to melt.

I’m just letting you know though, that summer is going to heat up and you are going to need to keep the girls happy. And while I trust you are hanging out with smoking hot models this summer, I also trust that you want to keep them cooler than dry ice.

Which is the perfect reason to invest in Savanna’s chill packs. Buy them, fill them with ice, light the coals and watch the women fall all over you.

Ha ha it’s marvelous! Ha ha ha what a glorious summer! Ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha! Hee hee hee hee! Whoooo hoooo hooo hooo! Chuckle chuckle chuckle!

Thanks SAVANNA!

Sean Lloyd

Editor

Having lived in Cape Town for a great deal of time, I have seen the trends come and go. When I was younger there was that stupid phase everyone went through where they had those ridiculous key chains with that stupid electronic pet on it. You had to feed the damn thing, pet it, give it water, kick it etc etc. It was a bizarre time because you would be talking to someone when suddenly they would pull out their keys and say “Oh I quickly have to feed my pet” This normally solicited a reaction from me that can only be described as utter shock and disbelief.

From time to time I would even give people a look that you would give after someone has walked off the street, into your house and kicked your kitten in it’s chops.

That stage of affairs in Cape Town came and went, then not too long ago everyone was wearing these massive sunglasses. That phase is kind of still around. Chucking a bit of Dolce and Gucci into the mix there.

We are also going through the current worldwide trend of eating sushi. Sushi this, sushi that, would you like some sushi with your new iPod sir? I have so much sushi I could probably pay off the bond on a beach house with it. I’m pretty sure that with all the rice that is being pumped into Cape Town, we are single handedly supporting the workforce in rice paddies around the world.

My current trends(Personally) are going to the movies by myself(Quiet time, away from screaming fans), drinking my tap water out of an Evian bottle(Although I got over that last week), trying to uncover whether the lottery is actually a scam, trying to write a comedy show and just trying to unravel the meaning of it all.

On the other hand, our boy Mike has stumbled upon something far more interesting, and something far more secretive. Secretive until today, the day where I uncover the mystery.

It’s got to do with having a moustache tattooed onto your finger, like this:

You too can transform your personality. Here we have Pablo, the painter.

Then, at any time you like, especially for photos, you quickly whip out the ‘tache, and BOOM, you have a ‘tache in the photo.

Apparently Mike saw it somewhere(No idea where) and overseas where the whole craze started, people get the tattoo and when the put the ‘tache into action they take on a completely different personality, it’s rad! Guys go on to speak in weird voices, like they are Italian painters or something.

It could be troublesome though because the chances are, on your wedding day, you would end up posing for photos(Drunk) and as they are about to be taken you would whip out the ‘tache and make the wife wear it! This could be grounds for immediate divorce. Or annulment as it were.

Basically that’s what I have to say today, that there is a new trend(Possibly) that you might be seeing in Cape Town. You might catch people doing this pose with a tattoo moustache. When you see it, think of Mike.

Dream of him.

Hold him tight.

Kiss his forehead.

Sweet dreams…

Sean Lloyd

Editor

I want your stomach lining and digestive enzymes INSIDE my cheese

I was browsing a pack of Woolworths cheese(I often like to spend my public holidays doing this) and came upon something on the ingredients list: “Non animal rennet”

Interesting then that I did not know what this is. It is a well known fact that I know almost any well known fact. Not this one it seems. I mean obviously I know what you are thinking now(You are a good writer), but this animal rennet thing had me confused. I Googled myself(Which is now why I have a lazy eye) and then later on Googled “Rennet”

This directed me to Wiki wiki wa-pedia where I decided to spin some vinyl for a while(Hence the wiki wiki wiki theme) After mixing the Wikipedia decks for a while I was suitably informed and suitably not hungry anymore.

Rennet is “a natural complex of enzymes produced in the mammalian stomach to digest the mother’s milk”

It goes even deeper, on the subject of calf rennet: “Dried and cleaned stomachs of young calves are sliced into small pieces and then put into saltwater or whey, together with some vinegar or wine to lower the pH of the solution”

I don’t know what this all means, and I was not keen to read on.

Look, that’s about as far as I got before I needed to make some ginger tea to calm my stomach, which is now feeling like a cement mixer.

Who ever thought to use stomachs and digestive enzymes to make cheese? I guess it’s kind of like the old school where they would use horses to make glue.(Read HERE for more information on that)

So when you are buying cheese, check the ingredients list. If you are cool with having the enzymes from the stomach of cattle in your cheese, then go for gold and take any cheese. I’m just mentioning though that the Woolworths cheese seems to be free of any of this.

Oh also to let you know Woolworths are going with the whole Christmas theme and are now selling turkey sandwiches with a cranberry sauce. Mmmmmm…come to think of it I wonder what Santa Claus is bringing me this year?

I sent a letter to the North POLE, asking for a supermodel to be gift wrapped and delivered to Casa del Lloyd, so I wait now in anticipation. He better give me what I want or I’m stealing his Reindeer and selling them on the black market.

How you like them milk and cookies, Santa?

Sean Lloyd

Editor