Category Archives: food

is this a good ‘viral’ ad for MacDonalds?

hey y’ulle. been thinking a lot lately about viral. and ‘content’. about “the nature of the beast”. been doing some doodles on notepads. i found this video:

what do y’ulle think? Give it a rating out of 5, 5 being very’fwdable/extreme viralability. maybe this isn’t even viral and but rather the evolution / next step in personal branding? feel like i’ve got lots to think about.

voting special: celebrity endorsement of the year

Love is free, yall.

Love is free, y'all.

you gotta give it to Nando’s. they took on the nation’s most notorious stand-up comedian, Julius Malema, and he, very predictably, just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. in his threats and tyrades he’s come up with some of the raddest viral material. it’s the kind of stuff you just can’t write. it’s amazing. check this out:

“If Nando’s does not withdraw the adverts, the ANCYL will mobilise the people of South Africa to take militant action against Nando’s and anything associated with Nando’s.” – the ANC League of Extraordinary Youthgentlemen

it’s just too good. this is the kind of name drop most brands can only DREAM about getting in their wildest brandy dreams. and it gets better. they even use the word ‘instruct‘ – totally awesome:

“While awaiting the legal advice, the ANCYL instructs the Nando’s company and those who did the advertisement to promptly withdraw the advert from all television screens and radio channels.” – ANC League Of Extraordinary Youths.

this – my friends – is groundbreaking advertising. this campaign deserves the Grand Black Clio Lion Loerie Eagle Prix best use of PR / social media / digital / tv / integrated / craft / viral / radness / tactical / extreme LOL category.

Nandos 4 EVA.

Nando's 4 EVA.

I hope the agency is getting their Loerie Stage Gimmick together. Would suck to win this big and be unprepared to do something zany and memorable on stage. Now’s your chance to introduce your personal creative brands to the industry – don’t be shy now.


ewwwwwww

This has been doing the email rounds. Doesn’t it conjure the grossness?

Dont really want to think too hard about it.

Don't really want to think too hard about it.


i’m gonna add you. and then delete you. i’m gonna add you.

Strangers are just friends waiting to be met. Lets just be strangers.

Strangers are just friends waiting to be met. "Let's just be strangers".

today i’m going through my facebook friends list, and checking it twice. feel like some of your wide-angle profile pics aren’t really doing much for my reading pleasure. and now that marketing has reached glorious new heights, if i delete you, you’ll know. because i’m gonna get something out of deleting you. i’m gonna get a free burger. that’s right, a free burger.

Me and my best facebook friend. We have so much fun.

Me and my best facebook friend. We have so much fun.

it’s no big deal. we were never great friends anyway. i met you through a friend of a friend and you’d just read Hey Whipple and you thought we had soooo much in common. i accepted your friend request because i figured i might be able to use you for my own gain, some day. delete.

We had this amazing connection. Yeah. Its called the internet.

"We had this amazing connection." Yeah. It's called "the internet".

and it ain’t no thang with you either. we went to primary school together, back when it was still called ‘primary school’. i had a crush on you because i was limited for choice. now i see your insipid little face for what it is: white trash. delete.

Friendship is only real when the age gap is at least 15 years and you all sit on a bus together.

Friendship is only real when the age gap is at least 15 years and you all sit on a bus together.

as for you. i met you one night backstage at some band thing i was covering. back when i used to write for that cute little mag that liked to think of itself as a post-modern Rolling Stone. later that night you covered yourself in your own vomit. it’s the only thing we talk about, when i actually reply to your mails. delete.

Real friends like to get their digits stuck in finger traps for days (forces intimate conversation and sharing of living spaces, boyfriends, etc).

Real friends like to get their digits stuck in finger traps for days (forces intimate conversation and sharing of living spaces, boyfriends, etc).

and then of course, there’s you. i guess there was a time when i might have called you my ‘boss’. guess that was back before you revealed yourself to be a liar. you lied about the job description, you lied about company resources, you lied to your clients, and then you were caught plagiarising. real world’s a bitch. delete.

Youre not officially friends until you have an attic clubhouse where you can look at each others clothes and talk about having a yard sale.

You're not officially "friends" until you have an attic clubhouse where you can look at each others clothes and talk about having a yard sale.

hey. it’s you! we were best friends once. now we lurk around each other’s profiles, spying on each other’s friends, reading a little too much into everything. i still like you, though. you can stay.

Youre not friends until youre a band of white horses, running free and groovy through the electro orchards of contemporary Cape Town.

You're not friends until you're a band of white horses, running free and groovy through the electro orchards of contemporary Cape Town.

oh, but you. i don’t even know how i know you, though facebook says we have 15 friends in common. i don’t even know what you look like. you could be Sadam Hussein for all i know. but no. you are some arb with some arb name, polluting my news feed with your status updates and your photo tags and your notes. you send me requests to put me on your BFF birthday calendar, and you send me growing gifts. this isn’t healthy. i’m ending this for us. maybe some day our paths will cross and we will never even know that we were once fbook friends. until then, adieu. delete.

Were not friends until you adore me and carry me around.

We're not friends until you adore me and carry me around.

hey you. we once lived together, for a bit. we could have been best friends, but life – and a landlord – got in the way. every time i see your status i feel a little guilty because i should see you more. since i feel guilty about everything from putting an extra half spoon of sugar in my tea (bad G.I.) to not updating my blog to ignoring my phone on the odd Friday night (ok, every Friday night), i’m gonna scrape your name off my guilt platter, to give myself a break. love ya. delete.

Were not friends until we cross a cultural barrier and offend the people we love. So i can stroke your soft white feathers.

We're not friends until we cross a cultural barrier and offend the people we love. So i can stroke your soft white feathers.

oh, and you! we once worked together for that lame promo company. i was nice to you because everyone pretended to be nice to everyone. the truth is i think you’re bland, dull and gormless. delete.

*********************************************************2 more to go til burger time….******************************************

and then there is you, mr generic person who added me because all your friends added me. there’s no nice way to say this but…you’re lame. go tag a wall in Rondebosch or something. delete.

Were not friends until you take ambient shots of me with your Polaroid in your bedroom.

We're not friends until you take ambient shots of me with your Polaroid in your bedroom.

and lastly, we have you, friend of friends. you, who has not much else to talk about (not that we talk – by talk i mean ‘update your fbook status’) but how drunk you got last night. or how hungover you are this morning. it’s like being inside the Ground Hog Day of your Loser’s Complex. as fascinating as it is to read about how drunk you did / can / will / want to get, i’m sorry, it’s time for you to go now. delete.

Were not friends unless youre a little white bird that brings me dreams while i sleep.

We're not friends unless you're a little white bird that brings me dreams while i sleep.

and now. for my burger. mwah ha ha. see you in fbook hell, fuckers.


Review: Fork Restaurant, 84 Long Street, Cape Town

Last night my man and I decided to hit up Fork in Long Street for a long overdue kind-of celebratory 6 month-ish anniversary dinner (kind of, we aren’t good with dates) paid for by his company because they have been working him so hard and interrupting our quality time. Please note this is not standard advertising agency behaviour. Normally you sign your quality time away in that nice clause that says ‘Employee undertakes that they will work pretty much every weekend, evening and lunch break for the duration of their time here – and probably for the duration of their lives – and if employee has a problem with this we will just give employee’s job to someone more desperate, and P.S. we’ve clamped your car,”.

After an aperitif or 2 at Planet Bar, where we like to go to work up a bit of a sweat by the fire without actually doing much but winking back at old couples who seem to think we look like a respectable couple of kids (do we? Here’s us last night – no doubt we remind them of their own hotblooded youth)

Looking good for datenight. We fit right in at Planet Bar.

Looking good for datenight. We fit right in at Planet Bar.

we stumbled onto the pavement to be greeted by a very agreeable carguard. I know the likelihood of writing that is akin to the likelihood of writing ‘we stumbled onto the pavement to be greeted by a chocolate horsecow’, but there you have it. There is such a thing as a congenial auto-protector. And he works outside Fork.

Because both the man and I lead busy lives and are constantly being hustled by new venues wanting us to check them out, we’ve got ignorant apathy down to a fine art and thus knew very little about Fork apart from the fact that they served Tapas. Expecting the usual pots of hummus and dolmades, we were seated upstairs in the no-smoking section (rather stressful for us both coming to terms with our non-smoking identities).

The menu, while varied and comprehensive, is still pretty pricey. There are 3 levels of tapas – R35, R45 and R55. We decided to order 2 from each. From tier 1 we got Puff Pastry with sautéed mushroom and parmesan, and the Raclette Fondue with Chorizo and Crostini. The puff pastries divine and I got the ‘wish we’d ordered 2 of these rather’ feeling. The crostini weren’t bad, but they didn’t melt in your mouth and remind of you of a happier time you’ve never actually experienced.

From tier 2 we got the mini kudu fillets on chilli mash – truly, something you must experience at some point in your life. I am now going in search of bigger kudu fillets. The other dish we ordered was the pasta rolls with emmenthal, aubergines, mushrooms, rocket and béchamel sauce – average. Pasta is pasta hey.

From tier 3 we got grilled tiger prawns wrapped with pancetta, which were tasty, but I also got the ‘wish we’d ordered 2 of the other dish’, namely the quail served with butternut and thyme mash and a beetroot glaze – WOW. If the quail dish were a brand it would be the AppleMac of entrees. Small, not very practical but so freaking delicious you’ll pay stupid amounts of money for it. Blasted tiger prawns.

No free meal is complete without dessert, so we went for the apple and vanilla cream shortcakes and some cappuccinos. Nice and tasty, but very biscuity. The shortcake could have been a little less crisp. That said, I ate mine and the boyfriend ate his and then we pondered our futures on the balcony and patted the lions they have out there, while having a conversation about how people always pat statues of lions if they are within reaching height.

All in all, I’d give Fork 4 stars, especially if you’re in the mood ‘for something different’ and god knows how many times we hear Capetonians say that. And if I were to do it all over again, i’d order 4 x quail and 2 times puff pastries, for what it’s worth.

Fork 84 Long Street, Cape Town

Dinner for 2 including a shared dessert and 2 glasses of house red: R500 incl tip

to book call  021 424 6334 to peruse their menu click here.