Soup

A day featuring soup, breadmaking, biltong and droewors hanging, running (for the first time in seven weeks), more soup, some tennis, beer, red wine, some changing of a tyre on Ou Kaapse Weg and downloading some One Direction music (don’t ask) has left me exhausted. It may just have been the running bit that had most of the effect, but suffice to say, I’m in no fit state to do anything but finish off my One Direction download and go to bed.
Quota photo time then, and this from an equally squally Sunday (I think) last June:

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Talking of photos, I’ve actually chosen not to renew my Flickr Pro account this year on several grounds: firstly, the $25 fee and our current exchange rate; secondly, the raft of features available to none Pro users (I’ll miss Stats, but that’s about it); Thirdly, the fact that I am not a Pro; and fourthly, that even a year on from this, it’s still not actually very good.

In happier news, my 1D download is now complete (despite the anti-virus program’s continued indignant warnings) and I’m off in the one direction of the warmth of my bed and France v Jamaica on the tele.

Nick Taras reviews a One Direction concert

for beat magazine in Australia:

(Please excuse the occasional bad language.)

For those unaware, One Direction are a teenage British boy band who are just the right combination of good looks and shitty pop music to seduce the hearts of young girls worldwide, and just young enough for Kony to kidnap. They released an album calledUp All Night (which has dominated charts worldwide) and got away with it because of their young, clean image. It was considered “cute” and “playfully naughty”. Yet if Dr Dre put out an album with the exact same title it would be considered “extremely vulgar” and “too heavy on references to hardcore everlasting sex”. One Direction are in their late teens. Just sayin’.

I must admit that I was not in a grand mood before One Direction. Firstly, in some form of sick joke, I was asked to review this band, and then I was told I couldn’t get a +1. I was alone. At One Direction. And I paid $10 for parking. And then I was seated between two groups of horrifyingly loud 14-year-old girls. It wasawesome depressing and a low point in my career. But then things got better, and I was transformed into a good mood becausethese girls were hot! I was interested in seeing why such a colossal chaos was made of this boy band.

One Direction, with less collective hairs beneath their underwear than hairs on my face, came out to the sound of a screaming pre-pubescent frenzy. I knew I was in for a musical orgasm after Niall (is that even a real name) started strumming his cool air guitar in time with the drum beat. As both instruments do in fact make a form of noise, I will refrain from further criticism.

Not long after, they performed their most puzzling hit, What Makes You Beautiful, a gem which contains the bizarre lyric: “You don’t know you’re beautiful/Oh oh/That’s what makes you beautiful”. I can’t understand how this lyric has gone under the radar. It roughly translates to “You have no sense of self-worth/Oh oh/That’s why I like you”. One Direction are obviously sickeningly attracted to girls with low self-esteem. Other lyrics from that song include the repetitive chanting of “Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana Nana” – quite reminiscent of the schoolyard tease chant of “Nana Nana Na”.

By far the highlight of the evening was a break in the performance where the band read the tweets from audience members which featured various questions. My favourite tweet was “Who can jump the highest?” The members of the band then all attempted to find out who was the most talented jumper. They each took turns, one by one, jumping on stage and then high fiving each other. It was a moment that will go down in rock history; a moment where I can say, “I was there”.

I hate my fucking shitty job.

BY NICK TARAS

LOVED: When Louis jumped really high.

HATED: The expensive price of chips.

DRANK: Didn’t serve alcohol but I had chips. They were good but not cheap!

*shrug* At least he enjoyed the chips.