Random hearts by my friend the sex columnist

I am up late, waiting for a giant, paper mache-on-wire pig to dry, so that I can move my car back into my garage and avoid a fine in the morning. I sorta got tired of explaining to my neighbors that this was just stuff for a movie, and I wasn’t actually a satanist. But enough about my life…

While clearing my camera’s memory cards in preparation for taking photos on the set I’m production designing, I came across this photo.

When we went on the location scout, a couple of ice hockey teams were practicing. I immediately flashed back to underage movie sneak ins to see Youngblood at the old 3 Arts Theatre in Cape Town. Instant rush of (pre?) teenage lust, a memory with a sting that weakens my knees to this day.

So anyhow, the random heart made me think of my friend, whose real name is of course not @DorothyBlack. Because duh… she’s a sex columnist. It’s gonna fuck with your relationship in all the wrong ways if you put your real name out there. She has a whole section (no, not a sexion, but I thought of it first) on her blog for random hearts. These are hearts that people have drawn or placed in random places.

Oh, the yearning. Oh, the pathos. No, really. It makes me want to cry sometimes. I want to write a story for every picture.

So I thought of her, and how I love her, and all we’ve shared (oh… shut up). And I missed my friends back home in South Africa.

And that’s that. Except for this random photo of a gumball machine.

It often strikes me how persistently 1950s America is, from the bunker mentality, to the charming romance of the almost soviet diner layout. The only difference is, in America, you eat sitting down, and where I was in Czech Republic (when it was still Czechoslovakia) you stood and tried to filter the grains out of the coffee using your teeth. Prague is awesome.

If you want to see some cool South African art, check out the Wall of Erections, and of Vaginas. As an ex of mine used to say: ‘Anyone who says “you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all” has only ever seen one.’ True for any organism, or we’d never carry on living, would we?

A random penis. Not as likely to make you misty eyed.

F&*%ing with Facebook’s Head #2

Lie to facebook! Because all its advertisers are certainly lying to you.

Changed all my info again. I went though a brief phase in which I claimed to be a male, gay, widower. But then they stopped the adverts altogether, except for one very lonely banner pushing a gay strip joint in Vegas.

Time to make some adjustments. So I became female again, continued to lie about my age, changed my relationship status to Single (and quickly deleted the auto post to my wall before my friends freaked out) and hey presto! A whole new set of more amusing advertising popped up.

Male barber services, huh. Can only assume they also have a special rate on throat cutting, since all the other adverts deal with getting your boyfriend back and finding out why men lie. We all know texting your ex is bad, specially if like the advertisers, you can't spell for shit. And then why men lie. Well I think we all know it's because if they didn't lie about a lot of shit we're shout at them a lot more.