Wednesday, June 30


Sex columnist Dorothy Black talks to a strip club frequent flier to discover where the appeal lies.

So here’s the story.

X is married with two kids and has a full-time, senior-positioned, demanding job. On the side, and unbeknownst to X’s partner, X likes to unwind at top-end strip clubs.

Well, I say ‘unwind’. I actually mean, ‘go to a strip club after work (during work) with a friend (after concocting some fib about traffic or working late), get completely rat-assed, go wild with the dancers, max the credit card and eventually, at the end of the evening, shag the friend before going home’.

Typical dude, you might say. Yawn. Boys.

Except that X is a woman.


every time i think of the ultimate strip show, i think of the dance of the seven veils.

it is said that salome danced this dance to inflame king herod with desire so that he would do her bidding when she asked for john's head.

yes, but would you get naked for it?

oscar wilde wrote a play (called simply salome) in colloboration with strauss, which i was very excited to see when it came to taiwan. sadly i forgot that i was in taiwan. prudish, dull, grey, taiwan.

salome was set in germany and the dance of the seven veils was executed by a number of little children running the stage with different coloured, um, veils.

i felt so cheated. i too wanted to see a woman could get naked in a way that would inflame with desire.

i felt oscar's ennui

anyway. i'll more about this later. i have manic deadlines.

X msged to say she liked the column. "Everyone has their vices after all. who are we kidding if we say we don't."

Monday, June 28

found it

fuck this quote has been mulling about my head for months now. months. but i couldn't quite put my finger on it.

i was reminded of it after friday night.

hanging out with some mates i've not been with in months, i got a chance to chat to a dude who's got The She issues. I'll tell you more about that in the column after next (next one is going to be awesome: strip clubs etc etc)...

but while i was listening to him it occurred to me where the quote came from and what it was exactly:

: I have to ask you a question. It's a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?

Jerry: Never.

i didn't find this movie particularly memorable or the lead couple comprising pitt/roberts particularly sexy or convincing.

but that line is awesome. i like it a lot.

Sunday, June 27


except, that see, i only like that for its alliterative value. mostly, i'd like a build-a-man.

dear universe/god/baby jesus/venus/zeus

i was wondering if you could challenge me with a man that possessed the following qualities:

1. a high degree of emotional intelligence yes, i know, a girl can dream...
2. honesty ie the ability to be honest with himself and me.
3. balls. i mean this figuratively speaking. someone braver than i am. someone not afraid to tell me i'm being full of shit when i am (which is often). someone that can argue without breaking everything.
4. integrity
5. compassion kindness for self and others
6. sense of humour a vital requirement to go out with me
7. a lust for living. i know we all have kak patches, but a defeatist attitude 100% is so not ayoba for me. i really had to struggle to get over mine for the longest time, i don't want to have to nurse someone else's.

of course, if he's shit in bed though, none of that counts. so, you know, just saying.


you know what. i've figured that that whole list can actually just be boiled down to one request. someone that's not scared of me. you'd be surprised how much i am incapable of finding this type of person.

keep your psychoanalysis to yourself. i get the whole pattern i'm on.


what got me thinking about this was a) mr hardman's final adieu and b) and the little man i built on saturday:

introducing my two-faced, cardboard cut-out man (not too dissimilar to the men i fall in love with):

Gianluigi Buffon apparently. i'm just going with buffoon, cos that's like dotspeak for 'man' right now.



suddenly the buffon turns into someone completely different!
how does that happen dot wonders

very pissed about this mr hardman thing. was super crazy about him. almost had me believing love was enough.

you know, here's something i wasn't going to tell you, but i will now. this is probably how i should've known it would never work out.

on our first date, i had the briefest of visions.

we were on the beach, he was waiting for me at the end of a makeshift path which was flanked by friends and family. it was sunset and lovely and warm and fantastic. (i'm very visual, i can stuff an entire vision into a split second. i do the same with dreams... anyhoo...). we were getting married of course. and there was mr hardman looking dashing...but he was wearing in a white suit... with a red herring bowtie...

shoulda fucking known. a red bow tie would never work for me.

Tuesday, June 22

who invited the sex columnist to the baby shower!

If you’re going to invite babyless friends to your baby shower, there should be booze, advises Women24 sex columnist Dorothy Black.

So, the other day, I get a call from my mate Gaby.

She: Oh. My. God. Dot.
Me: What?
She: Baby shower.
Me: I’m so sorry.
She: We have to wear pigtails and wear bibs.
Me: *blink*. Maybe it’s to wipe up your vomit?

I’m not great at condolences.

Gaby and I are both babyless women. Babyless women surrounded by baby-making friends. And the time has come for me to ask all you happy mums and mums-to-be out there:

Seriously. What IS it with the baby shower


ja. this might be the last time i write for parent24. FOUR comments. my ego can't freaking take it. it's taken too many sucker punches to the gut lately. i cry foul. time out.

you'd think people had more interesting things to discuss like the life-changing event of a NEW HUMAN than MY OPINION.

yeah yeah whatever

it felt weird writing for the other side anyway. it was like cheating on women24. on my peeps there.

all for 4 comments.

shit man.

look i'm not a total offspring grinch. just a less than awesome week and it's nothing i even have time to blog about.

Saturday, June 19

what the new south africa sounds like

maybe only saffas will get this. but here goes.

a family is watching a soccer/football game

8-year-girl: what happens when the black man touches the ball?
family: um. what do you mean the 'black man' hon, they're all black.
8-year-old-girl: no they're not. the other men are all red and green.

she was referring to the ref.

Tuesday, June 15

a sexy mofo

i scootered into work today (cos that's how i roll) with the sweet sound of terence trent d'arby being all husky and sexy and signing his way into my heart...

when i was growing up (i hate that phrase, but it's better than 'blossoming into the woman that i am today') i remember feeling strange stirrings in my young self every time one of his songs from hardline came on the radio. (sign your name, wishing well, dance little sister, rain...)

i was too young to follow his music past that first smash album (and had already dedicated my soul to johnny depp) but this man and his voice taught me what sex and love should sound like.

i haven't heard his new stuff as Sananda Maitreya, but i reckon the time is right for the return of the hardline.

Sunday, June 13

postsecret pic of the week

where do you get a cellphone jammer? i want one! i want for the following people:

1. dickheads who do not switch their cellphones off in a theatre.

2. the dickheads above who then ANSWER the call and TALK during the show. what is wrong with you? seriously. you're as stupid and inconsiderate as road retards and dance floor bag ladies.

3. people who take a call while driving (i do this all the time) BUT THEN slow down to a crawl in the fast lane because multitasking does not involve common sense.

4. i love twitter. but i don't like people who forgo a full experience of an event just so that they can twitter about it. i understand that this is largely a conceptual issue, but trust me, when the glare from your iphone screen is actually fucking with the lighting and ambience in a theatre i want to hit you in the face.

that all sounds a lot more aggressive than i'm feeling for really reals. cos i'm actually feeling pretty fine.

anyhoos. most of you'll prolly read this tomorrow. so. hope you're having a happy happy monday.


Friday, June 11

feel it, it is here


i am freaking loving south africa so much right now. can't wait to get out there for the opening mania on long street.

mexico and bafana bafana are playing tonight. wish i was going to the game. anyhoo. nandos brought out this ad. love them. they're so funny. (you have to read the fine print - click to enlarge)

south africa may have it's problems. we're volatile, angry, loud, issued ... every single race group has a chip on its shoulder about something.

we have violent crime, corrupt leaders, petty politicians, poor service delivery, striking angry poor, snobby looting rich and squatter camps with no toilets.

the global media has made out that visitors will be robbed of everything barring their souls. and probably that also.

but i fucking love this country anyway.

i love us because we have a sense of humour, because we're trying and getting it mostly right. because we're compassionate and friendly and are proving that we can get over our shit.

i love us because even though brand rainbow nation has seen it's hey day and we're now actually having to face reality, we're doing ok.

i love us because we're creative and loud and noisy and abrasive and unmannered.

i love us because we're africa. because we're new and young and full of possibility.

Wednesday, June 9

future sex love sound

Dorothy Black thinks that if you can vuvuzela, she can make some sex noise!

Over a little biatches brew the other night, Miss America revealed a problem. No, in fact, she revealed two.

‘He doesn’t make a sound in bed. Not a peep. Not even when he cums. It’s weird.’ Oh yes, that is odd we all commiserated. How else are you supposed to know if you’re doing it right.

But then she added.
‘He doesn’t like the fact that I’m, uhm, very audio. He says white girls make too much noise.’


Back up. What? Is this a fact? I haven’t been with too many black African brothers to know, but she has, and she says dudes are quiet as church mice and like their women that way also.
What the hey?


ok so this isn't at all a sexy pic. but it seemed funny when i started doing it and by the time i'd exhausted my creativity in that final line i realised it prolly worth it.

so here're some pretty orgasm faces:

pay to see more at

for those overseas folk who do the whole soccer/football thing, a vuvuzela is a little plastic horn that will blow your eardrums out at the game and probably be the sole reason bafana bafana, our national team, make it past the second round.

it made the tweetstream trending topic high today, so it's important.

this is the stadium in my city, cape town

if you'd like some pics on awesome south africa is - regardless of what the stupid brit press is saying - check out pics at's big picture.

care for a cuppa

i love spelling mistakes

care for a cuppa?

Monday, June 7

postsecret pics of the week

the problem with a blog is that if you're going to do it right, you kinda need to keep it updated very, very regularly. like, once a day minimum.

much like a good bowel movement.

i always intend to do this. the blogging that is.

like, i'll swear that if i have to wake up at sparrow's fart to get something blogged then by god i will wake up at sparrow's fart and blog something. anything, as long as i keep those click click clickety clicks coming through.

i've just never really understood that saying ya'know

but then. life happens. deadlines hit, pictures need to be framed, sex needs to be had and endless, wintery days and nights need to be filled with cooking of delicious food, quilted naps and more sex. and then a nap. and then friends who make hangovers that require napping.

(winter hangovers require more sleep. something to do with metabolism or something. true story. well, no not really. but still. that's what i tell myself...)

so. at least i can say that if blogging isn't happening i'm at least filling my time with something super interesting. like napping.

also. i do not function well in the endless goddamn night that is cape town at the moment. it's why i couldn't live in the uk. (read: yuck, it's a silent 'yu'.)

i cannot wait until the solstice when the sun starts coming back and we can all break out into song and dance.

my parents have four of this same album. four.

anyhoo. what this blog is about is actually my postsecret of the week. and fuck me plums, the choices were HECTIC this week. i couldn't just choose one.

i've got two friends that have fucking awful mothers but they just carent seem to divorce them.

ooo ooo, which reminds me, i'm going to be doing a little something something for parent24 also. a sort of 'notes from the other side; things your single friends have been meaning to tell you' thing.

does my opinionated self know no bounds?!


well. what more is there to say about this one.

good thing this person never tried acid then. (though it could be argued that psychosis is just enlightenment's ugly sister)

kids, if you want to know whether you'll go crazy one day, drop some a and do away with needless waiting. i'm good to go. apparently.

and then i include this one because i need to know whether i'm the only one that went "what the flying bananas is THAT?!" fertile eggs? if this is making me sound very very ignorant then so be it, but what IS this?! why would anyone buy this? do we have this in SA and the packs are just not marked?

please. someone. anyone. explain this. i eagerly await your reply.

until then. that's my input for now. column is late. deadlines are looming. my house is a mess. and there's napping to be had.

love with sprinkles