Saturday, 27 July 2013


Here's my new mix on 8tracks.
"Its a common misconception that your looks will improve, Just like the more you drink the better you move"
The POP/CORN Mix is for a party time, which is all the time, lets be honest.

  1. Avril Lavigne - Here's to Never Growing Up
  2. Imagine Dragons - Radioactive
  3. Emblem3 - Chloe (You're the One I Want)
  4. Icona Pop (ft. Charli XCX) - I Love It
  5. Selena Gomez - Come and Get It (Jump Smokers REMIX)
  6. Carly Rae Jepson - Tonight I'm Getting Over You
  7. Bastille - Pompeii (Kat Krazy REMIX)
  8. Ellie Goulding - Anything Could Happen
  9. Avicii - Wake Me Up (Extended Mix)

Tuesday, 23 July 2013


She leaned on her elbow, the beige, leather couch barely a support for her tired head. He sat next to her, legs outstretched enjoying the space that the carpeted floor provided him. A half empty beer bottle between his fingers. She licked her lips before speaking. Her mouth was dry. His scent, all to familiar in this setting was stronger as they sat close together. The light tendrils of her hair fell around her face just brushing the top of her dark blue jumper that covered her shoulders. The light in the room was a mixture of reds and oranges giving the room, although empty pizza boxes lay scattered across the low coffee table, a romantic glow.

He was talking softly and she was listening intently to what he had to say, bringing her own dark brown beer to her lips, ever so slightly sipping the bitter contents of the bottle. She smiled, a half crooked; tired smile filled with longing. He laughed as he straitened himself out, moving ever so slightly closer to his companion. He mumbled something and she blushed turning her face away shyly as he reached up to move a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. His large hands gently brushed it behind her ear as she gazed into his greenish-blue eyes. His hand rested on her neck where it had stopped mid action. He looked more intently into her eyes, she smiled ash his lips brushed hers.

Their lips met in perfect unison, his hand, more firmly now, felt the back of her neck as she let herself melt into his strong figure. His shoulders were broad her fingers soon found out as she gingerly moved them to touch him. They had become intertwined with one another. The music seemed to grow louder as sparks ignited between the two entangled on the floor amidst fiery passion and the thought of the last night they would have together.

They broke apart, her hand still touched his unshaven cheek as she bit her lip and looked at the figure in front of her. Her eyes shined bright with the thoughts shooting through her mind. She leaned back on her elbow and stretched, leaning her head backward and settling into a more comfortable position. He touched her leg as he looked at the angelic figure, pale and smiling in the dim light of the small apartment. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before rising and heading to the kitchen for two steaming hot cups of coffee.

Monday, 22 July 2013

Couch Potato - Shortstraw

A little bit of light hearted, indie music to get this whole show on the road.
This song pretty much describes my life. 

I pretty much love Shortstraw. I've seen them quite a few times since I turned 15 and would spend my nights trawling bars and Live Music Venues, being caught up as a part of the unbelievable city night life that Johannesburg has to offer. 

The most memorable time I ever saw them live was at Cool Runnings in Fourways. They were playing the gig with none other than Desmond and the Tutus and The City Bowl Mizers. It was a crazy-amazing show and a night I wouldn't soon forget - because that was the night I went Stage Diving.

The crowd was insane and absolutely wild as I stood on stage, the blinding lights shining in my eyes. The people were pulsating along with the music jumping up and down in rhythm to the band playing their well rehearsed set and dripping sweat all over the stage. I was with a complete stranger, tall and with dark, wildly curly hair. I looked up at him, because he was so tall, uncertainly but he smiled reassuringly and shouted "GO!" and pushed me to the edge of the stage. I jumped, free falling for what felt like a life time into the crowd with nothing but a the hope that some one would catch me. 
It was amazing.
I felt like I was flying.
The floor was hard and slightly slippery under my feet. I fought to regain my balance as I pushed my way back to the front of the crowd and joined the sweaty, smelly writhing mass of people that we're jumping and dancing to the beat of the band.


I am the Potato God.


This is the thing!

It's a blog for my Brand Strategy Class. What's Brand Strategy you ask? Well, it's about three hours a week where we learn how to manipulate the minds of the consumers that happen to inhabit this little blue and green planet.
Yes! Thats right, we're learning how to control your minds. Don't worry... it's been happening for years. If this is the first you're hearing of it then you better get your act together little earthling, and SORT YOUR SHIT OUT!

This is my blog, so I can get a degree, so one day I can make art and hopefully make people a little it happier through it and all that boring waffle that you probably stopped reading a while ago.

Either way, I hope you enjoy this as much as I'm sure I'm going to.

You can expect a load of sweet ass frocks and television shows because, let's be honest, I never leave he comfort of my bed and pyjamas unless its the whole mind control class or for a fresh cuppa tea and some toast.

Just kidding.
I'm really conflicted as to where this is all going...


See You on the Flip Side!

Thursday, 18 July 2013


Its been far too long since I've done anything worth doing, and even longer since I've allowed myself to feel any emotions worth feeling. I've spent many hours on the phone across the ocean trying to grasp hold of the memories and people that are slowly slipping away. I've spent hours pressing tiny buttons trying to recapture the way it all used to be before we left, started new, maybe picked up the old or simply faded away into the bedsheets that have now become our only home - our only hiding place.

I used to think that it would be weak, although not really. 
I think I'm just babbling.
The music that fills the room does not match the face of the boy that sings it, but it is beautiful none the less and it is lovely. It makes me feel lovely. 

He sits across from me in the too warm class on a Wednesday afternoon. For a brief second our gaze meets. He quickly turns away and I keep looking after him, letting my mind wonder to a fantasy where we would talk endlessly and he wouldn't look like a vampire. I look slowly back at the lecturer speaking excitedly as the students around the room fight as hard as they can not to pass out from hours of lost sleep. Their eyes have glazed over, weather it be from smoke, or from sleep, I am not sure.
Our eyes do not meet again, but a look back at him. His arms crossed, his mind buzzing and a smirk across his lips. 

There has been bad news happening all around me. Drifting through me - not really sinking in. 
Death, destruction, loss, unhappiness. 
I feel as though I have to be the one that's smiling. I have to be the one that isn't crumbling, falling, flailing and hyperventilating because everyone is doing that. Everyone is struggling to stay a float in this crazy life. I have to make jokes and sarcastic comments, and If I stop, for even a minute, I know all the sadness will catch up to me, pull me down and I would never be able to climb out of the pit that it sucks you into. 
I don't want that.

Tonight I feel, I've finally been able to let the emotions that have been bothering me out. 
Today was hard. The day was long and the wind blew a chill through my bones that had them shaking and writhing inside me until I could barely move, barely breath and not even utter a single word.
My teeth are clenched against all the things I'm forbidding myself from saying. 

The voice has changed and I can imagine his face clearer and --

I'm screaming.
I'm screaming again as my eyes are filling with big drops of salty tears and I'm struggling to type. 
I'm screaming.
I am surprised that my chilled finger tips remember the exact position of the keys as the fly across the keyboard making small tapping noises. As my fingers press down, applying more pressure to the area, my mind is reeling, revelling at the wonder and mystery - beauty to an extent - of muscle memory. 
That's what this all is. Were just little bottles all pressurised emotions with no way to let it all out.

The music speeds up as I wipe my nose on my sleeve. It hurts, I am stiff, In pain. 

From the top of the hill it looks as though the city is under siege from pollution. The buildings are faded against the backdrop of dull morning sunlight and the dust that has been kicked up by the cars and people for the last three months. 
They're drowning. The people are drowning but not in water, in the city. We're overwhelmed, over tired and ready to burst. We're angry and there is no fresh air going to our brains so were all tense. Were all walking on a tight rope where we're all about to fall to our deaths and we cant do anything about it. Were slowly sinking and, how ironic, we need the rain to bring us back to the surface and bring us back to the clear air, the clear light of spring and the breaking of the smog that has our souls and spirits oppressed.

Nothing is working out and the days seem to drag on as the nights settles over the smog in the city. 
We need to break free from all this.

With thanks for the inspiration of your beautiful voices: