Avoiding the matriarchal monsoon
The Mother City is a terrible place for a man to be during Women’s Month. Whenever it rains, the gutters run pink with oestrogen and the bars fill up with jackbooted lesbians. And there are still thre...
Knee-deep in whackos and nutjobs
The first time I heard the term “cray cray” I was in Paternoster, the West Coast centre of operations for petty pilferers, tik monsters and venal property owners. The person shouting “cray cray” at me...
Poltroons, Pizzas and Pangas
Who is Ben Trovato?
Nobody knows for sure – not even him.
“Metaphysically speaking, I have no idea who I am,” says Trovato. “Nor do I wish to know. Asking ‘who am I’ is the kind of crazy talk reserv...