The Kiss

This is a "note" I posted on facebook back in 2011 after witnessing a rather traumatic incident...

Tonight I saw you looking at me while kissing him. You intentionally broke my heart but I'll survive even though it doesn't seem like it right now. This silver lining is the most important gift I've ever received: my freedom from you...

Gigi Rox

Gigi Rox

Vida Fantabisher

One of my closest friends is a performing drag artist who goes by the name of Vida Fantabisher; I have been a fan of hers since she first revealed herself to the world back in 2008. Since January this year then she has grown to be one of Cape Town’s fastest rising and best drag performers. Vida made her performance debut at Bubbles Bar in January 2012, performed at The EVH Pink Awards the next month and not long after that Lola Lou (the owner of Bubbles Bar) offered her a slot on a Saturday night which she has since turned into a successful night of cabaret, comedy and partying. She brings her A-game every time she hits the stage, looks fabulous while doing so and has earned herself a healthy following of people who are as varied as my hairstyles. I consider myself to be her biggest fan but there are many others who will dispute my claim. Die mense is mal oor 'n Vida!

Last week Vida issued a challenge to the people who she invited to her 50th birthday party; anyone who wanted to dress up and perform a song cabaret style had the opportunity to do so at her birthday party and after giving it some heavy thought I decided to accept her challenge. I told very few people of Gigi’s impending stage debut just in case I gave a busted performance but in hindsight that was of no use since Vida’s birthday party had Bubbles packed to capacity. Back in April my friends decided to change my nickname from Gina to Gigi Rox (this happens occasionally no matter how hard I try to defy it) and I figured that open stage was the perfect spot to debut Gigi; a character I’ve been slowly developing and wanting to use in my stand up: Gigi is a hairdresser by day and club singer at night who is not really progressing on stage, mainly because she’s kinda kak and her song choices are as 90s as an episode of Living Single. Yes I know the character needs more work…

Fast forward to Friday night… I bought a pack of 3 special razors to shave my legs and armpits with; all three razors are now blunt. I had no idea I had so much body hair especially since I’m the least hairy guy I know. After shaving my legs and armpits I left my house and entered Bubbles looking like myself. I had a drink (three actually) and then operation Gigi commenced. Vida and Lola beat my mugg me the house down! There were tears which smudged my eye make-up which had Lola reapplying my eye make-up which lead to more tears but she eventually finished and when I saw Gigi in the mirror for the first time I was like WHOA! I’ve seen the contestants on RuPaul’s drag race completely transform themselves with make-up but I had no idea how powerful it could leave a bitch looking, not to mention feeling. Lola, Vida and I discussed how the show would flow and it was decided Vida would do two numbers and engage with her crowd for a bit then bring me on. While she was on stage doing her art I stayed in the green room running through the lyrics and moves I wanted to use in my first song which was Queen Latifah’s U.N.I.T.Y. 

U.N.I.T.Y.

 


One Minute To Show Time…

I gave myself one last look in the mirror and saw my tuck wasn’t as effective as it was the last time I checked which was less than 5 minutes ago. I tried rectifying the situation but nothing worked so I thought “Fuck it” and Naomi Campbell walked (or at least my version of it) to the stage. Vida handed me the microphone, the music started and I tried my best to remember every word to a rap song which I have been loving since 1994; you’d think that would be the easy part but once you’re on stage there are so many things running through your mind failure seems like the only thing left to do… I messed the intro up but kept it going only to discover my mouthing of the song as opposed to actually singing it was completely destroying my performance. I tried making eye contact with some members of the crowd but that made me feel even more awkward. I was at the point of dropping the mic to the ground and walking off with the last shreds of my dignity when I saw Vida mince past shouting “You must just shine!” From that point it was on! I closed my eyes, took off the jacket I was wearing (it was supposed to look ghetto) and went for the song the way Gigi was supposed to. I don’t remember the rest of the performance and I hope nobody recorded it but the crowd seemed to love it and that’s all that matters to me at end of the day.

My next song was Chanté Moore’s Chanté’s Got A Man; I wore a more forgiving dress (in the crotch area I mean), decided (at the last minute) to take the wig off and wore my favourite pair of high heels. By the time I hit the stage I was a little drunker and I guess that was just what Gigi needed to have a better performance. The rest of the night is a blur but the reviews have been positive thus far but that could be more because everyone is being kind since it was my debut performance. The performing drag queens I’m exposed to on a regular basis tend to make their art look so easy but I now know first-hand about how hard, time consuming and painful it all is. I have an even bigger respect for Vida Fantabisher, 3D, Manila Von Teez, Samantha Knight and Lola Lou; they make it look so effortless, do it for the love of it and for very little thanks. I salute you bitches and will support y’all whenever I can! I don’t think Gigi Rox will be making any appearances any time soon again, being a busted drag queen is not my idea of a fun time. One thing is for certain though; I've been doing stand up comedy for almost two years, yes I've had some terrible gigs and I've done a couple of truly fantastic ones (thank God); no other performance can compete with the power I felt while wearing make-up, high heels and a dress which is interesting since I've never felt that vulnerable either, but I guess that's an entirely different blog entry...

Follow the girls on twitter: @VidaFantabisher, @BubblesBarCT, @manila_von_teez, @samanthaSHOWBIZ, @THREE_D_

 Pics courtesy of PJ Smith, Alexander Tabisher and Emile van der Heyde, not that I asked their permission to use them...

Father's Day

It's Father's Day today and my mind is filled with so many thoughts which with a little editing might just make for a worthy blog entry so here goes...

Father's Day used to be such a bitter affair for me but this year (2012) things are very different...

This year I find myself pitying the man I jokingly (with a hint of not-so-much) refer to as my sperm donor. I've come to realise that for the past 29 years HE has been missing out on my life not the other way around. 29 years of knowing you have a son and not being man enough to be that boy's father can't be easy on the ego. So much time has passed, time that could've/should've been spent on getting to know a man that's turned out to be pretty amazing (even if I do say so myself) but he chose to do other things and that's okay by me now; he made his choices and has to live with the consequences thereof for the rest of his days.

The last time I saw him was at my uncle's funeral last month. I saw him in the church but I never even recognised him (before that I saw him at my grandmother's funeral back in 2008 and it's not like's he's gained weight or anything) and when one of my cousins pointed him out to me later at the graveyard I was surprisingly unaffected by his presence. I had no desire to confront/punch him like in the past and as strange as that non-reaction was for me, it felt rather nice; grown up almost.

If the man ever does come to a point where he wants to pursue a father-son relationship with me I feel like I'm strong and emotionally intelligent enough to accommodate him without actually caring if it all works out or not, he must just know drinks are on him.

My hatred of him has evolved into a mixture of pity and indifference and that's rather sad, for him I mean...

Pink Petrol

As most of y'all know I watch 7de Laan and while the episode plays I do running commentary via twitter; one day this tweet appeared:

@PinkPetrol95
Wies dai rooi kop girl met die ou koek hairstyle? Trisha het nog dai style gehet in Loving, dai morning! #7delaan

After reading that tweet I was like where did he come from? I also agreed with the observation but I that's beside the point (he was talking about San-Mari clearly). I read through his tweets and I just loved his flamboyance infused car loving nature combined with his utter bitchiness; any homosexual with a passion for cars will be loved by me. I struck a conversation with him via twitter (then bbm) and was impressed by his motoring and pop culture knowledge, so much so that I decided to interview him for my blog. His first blog entry (pinkpetrol95.blogspot.com) will be posted soon so keep your eyes open for this motor journalist sensation with a gay twist...

EM: Without giving your identity away, who is Pink Petrol?
PP: A motor enthusiast who just really wanted to be Mariah Carey...

EM: What do you think is the most important car ever made?
PP: Tough one... But I think the one with aircon gets my vote.

EM: How specific. Who is your celebrity crush?
PP: The Stig! That man does things to cars that just makes me...

EM: Moving along swiftly! Which motor manufacturer would you like to see in the F1 Grand Prix?
PP: I really enjoyed watching Toyota's progress while in the Grand Prix, but then they decided making boring cars is more important and went to do that. I think having Geely in there will make crashes really fun for spectators!

EM: That would be fun yes. If you had a budget of R100 000 which car would you purchase?
PP: Definitely the new Kia Picanto. Those people with the flat eyes really can build a car with their eyes closed.

EM: Pun pardoned. Which car manufacturer would you like to raise your pimp hand to?
PP: TOYOTA! I can't even elaborate cos I'll just give myself indigestion.

EM: Spoken like a true former Toyota fan. What's your ultimate dream car?
PP: One with buttons on the steering wheel...

Confessions of a Cab Driver IV: Final Destination Monday

Today is Thursday the 22nd of September 2011, it's 08:45 and things have gone changed for a bitch...

Let's go back to Monday. Zandra is my cab, she's a 2010 Toyota Corolla 1.4 and I love her for days. Myself and my colleague Neil (not to be confused with my best friend with the same name) have shared custody of her and on Monday I was told by management to use her even though it wasn't my turn. Neil missed his previous shift and as punishment he was to use an inferior car (Zelna, an entry level 2005 Corolla 1.4 and the car I use when Neil has Zandra). I protested using Zandra on a day which Neil was supposed to use her, I really did. An internal voice told me "bad idea Eugene" but the idea of working a quiet Monday shift without music (all Zelna's speakers are blown, it wasn't me I swear) seemed too daunting. So with a little more arguing I took Zandra and had a pretty good shift until my fifth kilometer when some made in China taxi cut me off in Observatory main road, thus nearly taking out a headlight. A few minutes later a Polo almost rear ended me. Later while driving to the airport a bakkie drove over a stone which came flying straight for Zandra's windscreen; my customer freaked out when he saw the stone coming for us but I'd rather sacrifice a windscreen than an entire car so I kept driving and let the stone hit the car. The stone turned out to be a wine bottle cork and it just bounced off the windscreen without causing any damage. At the airport when reversing out of my parking space I had a near miss with a Marcopolo bus. On the way back to Obs I had a tyre burst and later on the way to the Waterfront a car pulled dead brakes in front of me forcing me to defensively swerve around it. This Monday had a very 'Final Destination' feel about it but I had my Maxwell mp3 cd playing so I ignored it all and continued working.

22:00. I'm busy reading a splendid novel by William Corlett (Now & Then) when the controller sends me on my next mission. I start Zandra up, select the next track on the cd which just happens to be the song I want played at my funeral (Tamia, Brandy, Gladys Knight and Chaka Khan - Missing You) and do my checks to make a u-turn. Mirror, blindspot, indicate and go; a split second later I hear a distant hooter and BHAM! a '97 Honda Ballade hit my cab with a force greater than Beyoncé; I knocked my head against the driver's window and Zandra is now pointed in a direction I never intending on going. I report to the controller that I've been in a collision, put hazard lights on, grab my Blackberry, wallet and Nokia and try getting out of Zandra only to discover the driver's door is jammed shut...

When I finally get out of Zandra there's an army of tow trucks swarming us assessing the damage and trying to get permission to tow the cars away. I'm in shock and when I see the damage to Zandra I wanna fall to my knees and bawl because already I know I'm gonna have to pay the insurance excess, lose my 'golden boy' status at work and be downgraded to the punishment car; a 4 speed Toyota Tazz. Zandra's front wheel is laying

Gayle Pride

I was gonna hit you with tons of facts about gayle, it's origins and how much it has done for the Gay Rights Movement in South Africa and I thank my very good friend Jerome Cornelius for arming me with research strong enough to start a college course with, but instead I'm gonna keep things light and brief.

I remember back in my salad days my mother had a hairdresser named Andrew aka Julie Andrews. I never understood when Julie spoke because he spoke with a speed to rival Beyonce in her Destiny's Child days and there were always a lot of ladies involved in his tales. This was where I first experienced the power of gayle and to be honest, it didn't exactly leave me with a positive impression.

While attending high school I always imagined myself being the only boy attracted to other boys, as much as I denied it. In hindsight I remember there were other boys in the same situation but they were clever enough to surrounded themselves with friends (majority female) and they taught these friends to spead the code language later revealed to me as Gayle. This one guy who's name I will withhold was as flamboyant as could be; he had an advantage over the entire school because his gayle was fierce enough to be his mother tongue. Knowing this secret code language made him untouchable! He saw a sista in me but I ran away like the a leggy version of Oscar.
If I had to know gayle back then I'm sure I would've won many more verbal battles thus making my high school career an altogether more pleasant experience. After high school I met a variety of people who gayle their gayle with pride and these people have shown me the power it holds.

Fast forward a few years and I find myself being one of a dying breed; I am proudly one of the last gays who are doing what they can to keep the dialect going and hopefully with this blog entry I'll be able to teach a few people a few words to keep the culture of gayle going.

It's quite simple actually, just substitute a word for a gayle word which usually tends to be female names; the sentence obviously needs to flow... Gayle's concept is based on Polari which is a topic for a whole other blog entry. Back in the apartheid era Cape Town's gay community, mainly of the coloured/mixed race creed, used this dialect when needing to communicate with one another without "the law" knowing what they were saying. It has gone through many phases and I've actually come to discover that it is used as far as London!

Here's a little starter "dictionary" for beginners and advanced users alike. We have something special going on here and I implore you to keep it going.

GAYLE PRIDE!
1. Absarrah – Upset
2. Bag/Boentjie – Guy/Boyfriend
3. Barbara – Scared
4. Barbie – Hungover
5. Beaulah – Beautiful
6. Belinda – Blind
7. Bella – Phone
8. Bester – Buy
9. Boris – Boring
10. Betty – Beer
11. Bernadette – Burn
12. Cameron – Camera
13. Carla – Look
14. Carol – Cry
15. Chanel – Cocaine
16. Chlora – Coloured/Mixed Race Person
17. Chrizelda – Seriously Unattractive
18. Cilla – Cigarette
19. Cindy – Child
20. Clarence/Fienah - Finished
21. Daphne – Deaf
22. Danjee – Dance
23. Deborah – Dead
24. Delores/Rhona – Drive
25. Dina/Bash – Fight
26. Dominique – Stupid/Retarded
27. Dora – Drink
28. Dot – Alcohol
29. Drag – Outfit
30. Drew – Dry
31. Erica – Erection
32. Fatiema/Faatah – Fat
33. Fietna – Gossip
34. Florence – Floor
35. Gala/Gugu – Sleep
36. Gedora – Drunk
37. Gerty – Girl
38. Glamours – Drinking Glass/Eye Glasses
39. Greta – Greedy
40. Hannah – Food/Eat
41. Harriets/Lollies (Loll) – Hair
42. Hazel – Buttocks
43. Heidi – High Heeled Shoes
44. Hester – Listen
45. Hilda – Hideous/Horrible
46. Irene – Eye
47. Jacky – Jacket
48. Jessica – Horny/Promiscuous
49. Lana – Penis
50. Leticia/Lettie – Lesbian
51. Lilly – Lighter
52. Linda – Lie
53. Lizzy – Lazy
54. Lodge – House
55. Lulu – Laugh
56. Mabel/Mavis – Gay Male
57. Mavis Gerty – Fag Hag
58. Mercia – Untidy/Gross
59. Mia – Missing In Action
60. Miena – Walk
61. Millie – Mentally Unstable
62. Minarge/Miena – Leave
63. Mince – Walk With Attitude
64. Miranda – Thin
65. Mitzy – Mini/Small
66. Moegieda – Tired
67. Molly – Muslim
68. Monica/Moena/Moentjie – Money
69. Mula/Moira – Music
70. Nancy/Nandi – No
71. Naomi – Name
72. Natalie/Nothabu – Black South African Person
73. Nelly – Nerve
74. Nora – Morbid/Miserable
75. Ola – Old
76. Old & Ugly – Olga
77. Olive – Cute
78. Patsy – Party
79. Paula – Posh/Professional
80. Pearl – Urinate/Ejaculate
81. Poonzies – Shoes
82. Portia - Prostitute
83. Pram – Car
84. Priscilla/Popo – Police
85. Rachel – Rape
86. Rachmat – Rain
87. Raygana – Sunglasses
88. Reeva – Revolting Behaviour
89. Rhonda – Run
90. Sally – Blow Job
91. Setta – Sit
92. Sheila – Shit/Defecate
93. Skandi – Smoke Dagga
94. Skaya – Scold
95. Sonya – Sun
96. Stella – Steal
97. Stiena – Stink
98. Tanya/Thandeka – Teeth
99. Tiemah – Breast
100. Tilla – Toilet
101. Tina – Toe
102. Tracy – Train
103. Trudy – Tired
104. Ursula – Understanding Supportive Friend
105. Urshi - Understand
106. Vast – Yes/Very
107. Velma – Warm/Hot
108. Vera – Vomit
109. Washiela – Wash
110. Wendy – White/Caucasian Person

EMTI (Eugene Mathews' Twitter Instructions)

Hellerrr and welcome to Eugene Mathews' Twitter Instructions (EMTI), this course is not hard but that can be adjusted if you're into such things. Let's get started...

1) What's the point of twitter?
Twitter is a social site which wants you to share information, whether it be your opinion, what you're doing or even an article you may like. It sounds tedious but so many millions of people can't be wrong can they?

2) How does it work?
It's just like updating your facebook status only this time you only have 140 characters to work with, there are ways around that but I'll get to that at a later stage. Following people is like adding them as a friend but with a hint of not so much. Twitter only became fun for me once I started following comedians but y'all can follow who ever ya wanna, it's your world!

3) My best piece of advice...
Connect your twitter to your facebook account. Why? The principle of killing two birds with one stone applies here, or since we're living in more modern times I like to say killing two pigs with one Angry Bird. Think about it: the majority of your friends on facebook are people you actually know so sharing your tweets with them is only right. Why must your followers be the only people to get the best of you? If ya dunno how to connect the two, feel free to ask.

4) Retweet much?
A retweet is when you see someone you're following tweet something good enough to share with your followers so you retweet it. It does get a bit complicated though. Say ma now you wanna reply to something someone tweeted but you're not sure that person is gonna know what you're talking about you can quote the tweet and reply to it then separate the two with the letters RT. For example.

@eugenemmathews: All men are dogs! #idiots

You read my tweet and it compels you to reply but you've only seen my tweet a couple of hours later but I was complaining about some taxi so I probably tweeted 8 tweets already. All you do is seperate the your reply and the original tweet with RT (this is much easier if your phone has the quote tweet function):

@jawonthefloor: I feel ya! RT @eugenemmathews: All men are dogs! #idiots

5) The #Hashtag
Yes this is a twitter invention which has filtered down to facebook with both positive and negative results. A hash before a word or combination of words is either you contributing to a topic which is already happening in twitterland, or if there's nobody who's even used that hashtag you'll be starting one (a topic I mean). As you may have noticed once a hash is before a word on twitter it is highlighted, this is called a hashtag. When clicking on the hashtag you will be taken to another place where other tweeters tweeted and the same hashtag was used. This is a place where many other people who aren't necessarily following you will see your tweet and they are able to reply to you and even follow you should they like what you've said.

6) 140 Characters!? I CAN'T DEAL!!
Not to worry dear, there ways around this handicap. I personally use twitlonger but there other sites such as tmi and yfrog (I think) that allows you to type to your heart's content and it will publish your tweet to a point then add a link to see the entire tweet.

That's all I have for now, there's a lot more so don't be afraid to ask!