Comp Entry: The Tossers

Good-looking guy tosses skinny Aussie 2012

Give us and we’ll give you: The 2 Cunts Christmas Competition

Ha, we’re not Santa Claus – we’re the two cunts and don’t give a shit how naughty or nice you have been, but the grumps have lifted slightly and it’s time to embrace a bit of the season’s silliness.  So we’re running over very first competition. (Ermagherd, how exciting, shit life just got infinitely better, etc, etc, etc…)

Just kidding, there might be something for you.

It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas…

Actually that’s bullshit. I haven’t felt Christmassy even once yet. Summer has barely shown its stupid face, the unending rain has gotten all over my patio’s new scatter cushions (serious, wtf?) and I haven’t even sniffed a mince pie. Which all serve as a reminder that this time of year is best suited to those with weeks of holiday, a ready supply of buckets and spades, and the sum total of zero fucks. In short, December, summer, and Christmas are the domain of youth – those little shits.

But all this has me thinking about the classic summer vaykay of the traditional South African childhood. Like Tupperware, moms smacking indiscriminately at legs when there was dissension in the back seat of the car, and having to “just wait until your father gets home”, there are key elements of this holiday that we have all experienced. Whether we grew up in the big city, or the ‘burbs, we can all remember:

Permission to "Awwwwww".

I think we can all agree that it's about time this week, this month and this year came to a fucking end. Here are some baby Kruger creatures to bring a brief moment of light to your meaningless existence.

He'll be stealing bread rolls from your car boot and snarling at you in no time.

Plotting to kill Mufasa.

It’s all about the microventure and I'm all about portmanteau

Other than our mobile phones, everything else is getting smaller – or maybe it’s just my bank balance... Either way, we all remember when Summer Roberts declared, “Mini is the new supersize” in Episode 2, Season 3 of The OC – obviously. Well that sassy, mid-noughties minx was on to something and this is just the sort of motto to apply to your travels. And I’m not simply talking about packing light, people.

Picking Pals: A brief guide to choosing travel companions

Unless your travels exclusively involve first-class flights and 5-star luxury (lucky bint, please be my friend) you’re going to experience occasional/very regular potholes on the road. Jozi-dwellers, I know we could write anthologies on the subject. So in bad times and the good it’s worth having a solid gang of miscreants to keep you company. I'm sure even solo travellers can recognise the need for a shared beer along the way.

Throwback Thursday - Mozambeach

As far as beach holidays goes it's hard to beat Mozambique. It's beautiful, cheap (mostly) and the African sun will turn you a glorious nut-brown. Tofo is our recommendation as there's lots to do and many reasonably priced places to stay - and it's far enough from SA that it's not completely overrun with arseholes on quad-bikes spraying sand into your GnT.

Turquoise ocean beckons

Nom, nom, nom – eating in the great outdoors

You’re out and about doing adventurous things and generally working up the sort of appetite worthy of a swash buckling daredevil like yourself. Now, mummy isn't here to make sure you finish all your Weetabix or to cut the crusts off your white bread sarmies so you have to fend for yourself.

Camping and food will, more than likely,  go one of two ways – the most delicious or the most shit. At least that’s the experience of this camp-fire cordon bleu. But never fear if you stumble down the path of the latter as a couple of heavy-handed bevvies and the limited light source can always work in your favour. Any grumblers can do the fucking washing up.

#tbt: Dressing Fancily

We live fancy lives. Fancy dress lives, that is. 

Okay, shit intro - I'll accept that, but just remember this: rather a shit intro than a shit life.

What a scream, it's Halloween!

So it’s Halloween and of course you fuckers are going to dress up and get wasted. Cunt HQ is buzzing with excitement because this is our favourite holiday of the year. Okay fine, it’s not actually a ‘holiday’ holiday like braai day or anything, but it is the best* thing that the old US of A exported over here. (*From a list that otherwise included childhood obesity, shitty hamburger chains, any and everything pertaining to Jared Leto and 30 Seconds from Mars, and that time the Kardashians came to visit.)

Now we know you’re racking your brains trying to come up with an outfit that is better than anything your friends could possibly think of, so we’re stepping in to offer some assistance – cunt style. Because for the sweet love of any god that is merciful, we don’t need another slutty version of an acceptable profession/beloved childhood cartoon. Or hairy legs in fishnets/balls bulging in leggings – yes boys, I'm talking to you.

No.

Free ball in the Free State

Is the Free State the overlooked province? I don't know, maybe.

But it's a pretty fucking beautiful place to explore. We usually go to Golden Gate National Park - you could too. Or you could just look at these and pretend. Whatevs.

Camping equipment maintenance or lack there of

So let’s talk (except I'm going to write and then you’ll read) about camping equipment maintenance. Or what I like to call: Never actually getting around to cleaning out the fucking tent.

This camp site is a thing of beauty

Turkish Delight

So I was going to kick this off by saying that Turkey is totally shit and overrated – really dry, and completely ruins Christmas unless you drown it in cranberry sauce to combat the desert-vibes going on in your mouth. But that’s a pretty crappy joke so I've decided not to open with it.

I only had one requirement of this Turkish vaykay and that was to get a tan. I know what kind of person that makes me sound like, but this winter has been long and I like having that tan line across the top of my arse and who the fuck are you to judge me? Anyway, moving swiftly forward, I can safely say that Turkey delivered on the tan front and then some.

Attractive boat scene.

Pic Tease: Turkey Holiday 2014

 We're packing something big and it’s all for you. But let’s start with the tip, just to see how it feels. 

I'm on a boat, mother fucker.

Hostel Part IV: People you meet in your dorm room

Backpacker hostels are pretty great. Well, most of the time anyway. They offer cheap and cheerful accommodation, usually close to all the tourist attractions, and help us SA adventurers eke out a holiday on the long-suffering Rand. But dorm-living means getting up close and personal with other adventurers… and sometimes these people are strange.

We'll be back

It's adventure time for the two cunts and their darling Norms, but once we're back you're in for a treat! The blog will be quiet for the next two weeks - just enough time to ready yourselves for tales of debauchery and photos to match.

Gird your loins, Turkey. The trio are coming

Throwback Thursday: Don't go chasing waterfalls

Croatia is a fucking beautiful country. Like more beautiful than that dumb boy you wanted to sex a lot even though he wasn't very smart, but had a face that killed off little pieces of your soul every time his sparkling, dim-witted eyes gazed in your direction. Whoa, wait – what boy? I don’t know what you are talking about.

Anyway check out these sexy, motherfucking waterfalls in the Plitvice Lakes National Park in Croatia. And because I'm suddenly a hot, sweaty mess of feelings, let’s all cool our engines with some sweet mid-90s R&B. 

WTF: Travel Fails Part 1

Sometimes our adventures don’t work out exactly as planned. Not unlike the night spent in a Malawian truck stop brothel or when the bus toilet sprayed toilet water on your only pair of trousers. But, you know, you walk it off cause you’re not a little bitch.

  

Throwback Thursday: Look at my balls

This one time it snowed in London. (Actually, for a while it always snowed in London) So I climbed on a giant snowball. That day was super fun.

Look! I'm on a giant ball!

Get your Hike on Bitches!

A while back, the intrepid cunts decided to add a healthier option to their list of adventures and ventured out into Mpumalanga for a two-day hike. Oom Paul’s Backpackers Route is a fucking rad trail that’s about 20km and not too hard – unless you’re a massively lazy fuck. Actually it’s called a ‘moderately difficult’ trail, but we both managed it and this was before Lynner became the badass running muthafucka that she is today.

Nature and shit.

Flying Home to Mother(City)

Pretty City - image from National Geographic

Oppikoppi 2014: The Aftermath

The dustbowl fairytale is over for another year and all the sullied Cinderellas have gathered their muddied boots and fled the thorny palace of debauchery. Sadly there is no Prince to chase after and return us to the kingdom. We simply wait. Well, recover first – slowly and with all that coughing – and once the black lung fades to a mild tickle, we start the long wait until the Oppi Ball comes round again.

Sun, Sex and Surviving the Holiday Romance

You’re an adventurer so obviously you’re as sexy as all hell. When you’re out and about having fun and living the shit out of life, people are going to meet you and then try to fuck you. 

Throwback Thursday: Hey Joburg

Oppi - Take it easy. But take it.

It's coming...

With but a week to go until Oppikoppi, excitement is reaching fever pitch at Cunt headquarters. So we've put together a handy-dandy guide to surviving the dust, the drink and some pretty sweet times. Rave safe kids!

The Lost Art of Pingy-Pong

Gather ‘round friends and settle yourselves down for I am about to tell you the story of the greatest game ever invented. A game so intense, you will begin it as friends, play it as mortal enemies intent on total destruction, and end it as drunks. You could also end it bleeding profusely, but that – after all – is up to you. For this is the drinking version of Jumanji…. (Cue hushed yet fearful whispers…)

Only the boldest should take their place at the game table

Throwback Thursday: Putfoot 2012 Video Extravaganza

The only rule us two cunts live by is that you can't say no to an adventure. So back in 2012 we embarked on the Putfoot Rally with our bestest friend, Norms. What a team! Penelope Pitstop and the Pedal Pushers. Drinking, driving (not together obvs - we're cunts, not arseholes) and laughing our tits off. Fun was had by all.

Drive Mix: Singalong Tunes

Nothing beats a car choir. I know you can't sing, but who the fuck is gonna judge you? Certainly not the other fools in the car - they can't sing for shit either.

Lost in Translation: The Petrol Station Edition

Another tale to remind us that it would be very useful if we spoke Portuguese… 

The open road stretching out until forever

On the road with dirty feet

Once upon a time, not so very long ago when these two cunts were a touch younger and slightly less worldly wise, we went on a very big adventure. 7 x countries, 7 000 x kilometres, 3 x best friends and 100 0000 0000 x fun. It was a pretty simple game plan: drive all day, party all night, wake up and repeat. Sometimes it was hard and we’d sit in the car and just hate the feeling of dust clinging to the sheen of sweat that covered every inch of us. We’d not even want to look at the faces of our dearest, most beloved humans in the world. Gah, how dare they exist near me when I'm this tired and grumpy? But compared to every glorious sunrise and sunset, each dip into crystal clear African water and the songs and the stars and the crackling fires, it was barely a blip on the radar of rad times.

Throwback Thursday: Afrikaburn 2013

The desert is a funny place; sort of strange and otherworldly with bigger skies and brighter stars. The desert as artscape is even stranger. Then you throw in a couple of thousand humans and shit gets weird. Back in 2013 the two cunts were losing and finding ourselves in the desert. Here’s what we saw:

Top ten Tuesday: Road trip tunes

Every adventure needs a sweet soundtrack, so here are some beats for your beautiful ears.

1. Tom Cochrane - Life is a highway




2. Iggy Pop - Passenger

Why you shouldn’t be allowed to camp if you don’t own a chair

Just don't

The tents are up, the fire is on the go and you've cracked open an ice-cold beer. But you’re sitting on the floor… What a tit. You, sir (or madam) have overlooked the most vital element of surviving the great outdoors – the camping chair. Because after the bottle opener, the one object that can make or break your venture from civilization, is the place where you settle your arse as night settles in.

Why Travel? Oh, the places we will go!

Fuck dude, I want to shout: “Why not?” But that’s not a very engaging article and my co-blogger would question my commitment to this project. In all seriousness though, the question really should be, why don’t you travel? 

So much shit to see

Tuesday Inspiration

Posting inspirational quotes is a total cunt thing to do.

So obviously we’re posting some. (Travel-themed of course. Who gives a fuck about you being beautiful and that kinda shit.)

source: myquotehome.com

Throwback Thursday - Cape Vidal, Isimangaliso Wetland Reserve

Better than Monet's Water lilies? 

Throwback Thursday - Monkey bay, Lake Malawi

Mufasa Backpackers, Monkey Bay

Lost in Translation: The Hospital Edition

When you travel to a new country (far or near to our own darling RSA) it’s polite to learn a few phrases in the local language. A cheery “obrigado” as you buy a pack of 20 imparts goodwill to all in the corner store – be it found in Lisbon or some dusty corner of Mozambique. So you learn some standard phrases: please, thank you, can I get a beer – you know the useful things that make your holiday run smoothly. Call me short-sighted, but in the run up to our most recent Mozambican holiday I failed to learn the Portuguese for: “I was drunk and thought a handstand would cure hiccups. I think my shoulder is broken.” More fool I.

Guilty as charged

Weekend Warriors: Driving Home to Kestell

Obviously we’re not really from Kestell – pretty much no one is. Home is the City of Gold, but after a weekend spent in this perfect little slice of Eastern Free State heaven, we considered doing a swapsies. It takes about three and a half hours to get there, so if you skip the Friday afternoon, post-work drinkathon you could be unwinding in the peace and quiet by supper time.

We stayed at Karma Backpackers, which is actually run by Vera, the aunt of your dear writer – this is mentioned in the spirit of transparency, but given the intriguing family dynamics this,  in no way,  lends itself to travel blog nepotism. So let’s get back to the important bits: The backpackers is laid back and homey, with comfy couches, a fireplace for when it's cold and a range of sleeping options, depending on whether you're alone, in a big group or just with your special someone. There’s a veggie patch that you’re welcome to raid, and an orchard that provides produce for the award-winning jams that are there for the tasting (and purchasing). Trust me when I say that you won’t want to leave the kitchen. If you’re lucky you’ll be fattened up on hunks of home-made bread, just-baked cakes and home-made ice cream – pure unadulterated bliss… It is also home to Pixel, the coolest (and biggest) kitty  - you will try to steal her.

Camping Classy – Four Cocktails to suit the mood

We've put together a jolly good collection of bevvies for you to enjoy wherever your tent may be pegged – because if it has more than 2 ingredients, we consider it a cocktail. Stay classy, South Africa*.

*clinks glasses with camping pals.

Always sample the local flavours

Spotlight On: Head Torches

Aah, there it is. The head torch in action.

There was definitely a time when something so practical would have left me cringing. The head torch was the domain of an 11 year old boy on a camping holiday with the family. But now I know better: practical is the new sexy and it doesn't come sexier than this bad boy.

Alien Safari - A tale of two foreigners in Kruger

Now us two c***s know a few things about camping. We’ve set up tents in gardens, campsites, on roadside verges and at festivals around the world. Practise makes perfect and we’ve got it down to a seriously fine art – 3 minutes is the record and I swear the tent wasn’t a pop-up (scouts honour). But nothing makes the whole process fall apart quicker than camping with the uninitiated…

Two lovely friends from my adventures in the UK had promised to come visit now that I was back home in South Africa and one slightly drunken evening credit cards were maxed out as they booked their flights and made true on their promise. Back in London they oscillated between excitement and panic, and were suckered into every vaccination available. Here in South Africa, the two c***s teamed up to create an itinerary to make any spread sheet using, ahead-of-time planner mist up with pride: A whip around of the people and places of Jozi, the traditional Cape Town experience and the pièce de résistance – four days in the Kruger Park. But they’d be doing it our way…which means camping.