Bad news, good news.

I was diagnosed with costochondritis this weekend. No, not the Greek ex-Bolton Wanderers midfielder, an inflammation of the cartilage in my rib cage. It’s uncomfortable and generally not very pleasant, but when you are “middle-aged” and less fit than perhaps you should be, a diagnosis of costochondritis when you have chest pains and shortness of breath is actually fantastic news.

My heart will – as the bloody awful song goes – go on. In fact, my ECG was described as “perfect” by the doc. Boom! (bang a bang).

Anyway, some anti-inflammatories and an absence of foolish behaviour, and I should be fine real soon now.

If you google costochondritis, you get a lot of other suggestions just four letters in. I thought I might share some of them.

Cost of living – too damn high. Pick n Pay tried to charge me R115 for 850g of cheddar today. Ridiculous.

Costa Coffee – ubiquitous chain of coffee stores across the UK and the rest of the world (not South Africa) (yet).

Costocervical trunk – blood vessel behind the artery that is underneath your collar bone. Nothing to do with trees.

Costa, Diego – feisty, divisive footballer plying his trade up front for Spanish team Club Atlético de Madrid, SAD. You either really love him or really hate him. Or somewhere in between.

Costa del Sol – bit of Spanish Mediterranean coastline in Andalusia famed as being a hideout for British underworld figures from the 1960s onwards.

Costatu – an incorrectly spelled version of Cosatu – the Congress of South African Trade Unions. An increasingly irrelevant pseudopolitical entity claiming to represent the workers of South Africa – as long as they aren’t in one of the other Union bodies, in which case, not interested.

French unlucky to lose rugby game

News in from our rugby correspondent, who was at a wet and windy Moses Mabhida Stadium over the weekend to watch the Sharks play a friendly against a visiting French side from Bordeaux:

The Durban side edged a tight game 19-17 leaving the French coach, Entraîneur de Chiens, disappointed at the result of a game he thought they could have won if only his side had listened to him and followed basic instructions.

Instead, his fifteen players scattered across the pitch, chasing each other and the boerewors rolls sellers in the stands. One was seen having a really good scratch in the tunnel, while two others were found snoozing in the dug out.

It’s been the same since we went with this stupid name change

de Chiens complained.

We used to be a tight, organised, disciplined squad. Now I can’t get them to even sit, stay or listen to me. The only time they feign any interest in what I have to say is when I’m holding some food. It’s been a disaster and we need to think of calling ourselves something far more obedient.

he said, before shouting at the left winger, who was in the changing room, chewing a sock.

Making the list

Did something happen? I mean, I’m only asking because everything seems to be a bit crap with stuff online at the moment.

The internet is slow (ok, so no change there), my ifollow app didn’t want me to watch Sheffield United playing yesterday*, logins aren’t working, the latest update of the Jetpack plugin on WordPress is clearly borked, my Gmail had a wobble on Friday and still hasn’t really recovered.

That sort of thing.

And it’s not just here at 6000 Towers – I have had reports from others troubled by similar issues both in Cape Town and further afield.

Nothing major. Nothing huge or life-threatening. It’s all just a bit iffy.
And all really irritating.

But I can’t really lay the blame for this solely on the internet: there are a million** small to medium jobs that need attending to around the house as well.

Equally minor. Equally irritating.

This weekend marks a bit of a watershed in my life. I’ll likely elaborate on that more in a future post or seventeen, but I’m hopeful that these minor issues can now be sorted, one by one.

Still, the trouble with making plans to address these things is that some sort of priority system needs to be implemented if there’s to be any sort of meaningful progress. That system needs to be based on not just how urgent the task is, but also how annoying it is not having it done, how long it’s going to take to complete, whether or not it can run concurrently with other stuff, and whether it’s something I can do myself or whether it’s something that I have to rely on others to fix.

Thus, even making the list is a fairly difficult process. But without it, nothing will get done, and so that is priority number one.

I might get around to it tomorrow.


* still, ain’t no win like a 93rd minute win. 🙂

** this is clearly a ridiculous exaggeration.


A chance encounter with Will Smith’s 90s hit song Men In Black led us to seek out Will Smith’s 90s hit movie Men In Black.

Means what you think you saw, you did not see.

Except we are seeing it.

And along with some take away pizza, that’s this evening’s entertainment and dinner sorted.

This parenting lark is well easy.


I saw this tweet and it reminded me about a post I’ve been meaning to write for a while now.

Because, the thing is that you can’t just run the pedestrian over, much as you’d probably like to. You’d get into trouble, sure, but worse than that, we’re still struggling with water restrictions here in Cape Town and people would frown if they saw you washing the bits of skull, brain and matted hair off your bonnet.

So you have to slow down. And then they’ve won.
And then they use that technique to cross the road every time.

But pedestrians aren’t the only ones to utilise this method to get where they need to be. Our local (and already notoriously shit) drivers are doing it too.

They’ve worked out that if they approach a stop sign on a side road at a appropriately foolish speed, and perhaps overshoot the white line by, say maybe just 50cm, then any vehicles on the main road they are joining will have to slow down, rather than risk an accident.

And, like the pedestrian above, once you’ve slowed down, they’ll take advantage of the situation to complete their nefarious manoeuvre.

Newlands Road in Claremont is nice and straight and has a plethora of sideroads where one can witness this action taking place at several junctions within a single 500m stretch. It’s also where I remind myself that I must blog about this each evening, before doing nothing about it.

The perpetrators are relying on your knowledge that Cape Town drivers are so rubbish that they might actually just completely ignore a stop sign and plough into your car. And so if you try and call their bluff, there’s always a reasonable chance that a rubbish driver might actually just completely ignore a stop sign and plough into your car.

I do recognise that – short of asking you nicely not to do it – there’s not much that I can do about halting this practice.
But at least I have now documented it.

Have you experienced this? Is it merely a Cape Town phenomenon?
Are you an overshooter? If so, why do you do it, you twat?

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