A personal taste of Nelson de Gouveia

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Top 10 best moments of 2016

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top10 best moments of 2016

I hate reflecting on the past. By that, I mean that I LOVE reflecting on the past, all the things I’ve done, the people I’ve met and the wonderful experiences I’ve enjoyed. And 2016 is no exception.

I don’t try to be too narcissistic. Yes, I own a blog, I’m a comedian and I’m the type to admit that I look at myself in every reflection I walk past in. You know, just in case I have a hair loose. But I don’t TRY to be TOO narcissistic.

It’s cathartic though when I look back at the moments of 2016 and appreciate what has happened. There were some huge changes, I mean big ones. And all for the better, I hope.

I do include events that weren’t part of my everyday life, like celebrity deaths. Government referendums. Oil price changes. You think it’s silly? Never, those shape our public conciousness and all the better for it, so why disregard them in our lives?

Here’s my list, have a good read:

  1. I started my job in the advertising industry
  2. I left an abusive relationship and found the best one ever.
  3. I bought my home.
  4. Brexit and Donald Trump.
  5. Pravin Gordhan being charged by the NPA.
  6. My uncle and Gene Wilder both passed away.
  7. I rejoined Facebook.
  8. I met the Ambassador of Portugal in South Africa.
  9. Racist Facebook posts by white people
  10. Admitting that I’m not THAT much of a comedian

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On a dark and stormy night… (a writing exercise)

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going online mastrubation
In most occasions, I tend to try and write specifically about a subject, but on this occasion I don’t have one…yet, as I just described to my sister-in-law, I do enjoy using the first line, “On a dark and stormy night…” to meander off into subsequent variations of the theme before reaching the point, in order to jump-start the creative process.

And here’s the result.

On a dark and stormy night…

…well, a slightly dark and stormy night, really. In July in the southern hemisphere. And but slightly, I really mean sort-of dusky with a small chance of drizzle.

And when I mean by stormy, really some drizzle with the possibility that your eyes will seem accustomed to the African sun after a few months of the blanket of clouds hanging overcast like a comfort pillow thrown over by an over-protective mother that still loves you despite yelling you a few hours before for leaving your bike out in the yard.

And when I mean drizzle at dusk, I really mean an occasional smattering of one or two droplets descending upon the earth like a few Spartans entering a battle…without their mates, resulting in totally defeat by the Persian horde, that sort of smattering.

And dusk is such a relative term. I would say about 9am, the sun easily penetrating the window like a geriatric peeping Tom with a pace-maker that ticks away like the timepiece in the crocodile that ate Captain Hook’s hand from Peter Pan, the old badger ruffling through the plants trying to find a good view up your nose as your bed faces feet first towards the window.

So anyway, on a slightly morning-ish time of the day with a slight smattering of droplets…I discovered you can get Jews on a train far more easily if you charged them half.

The End.

Love Star Trek much?

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love star trek
There are few subjects I can usually relate to people about. Sports are as functional to me as sex, I just don’t know the people performing in both. Even an ex-girlfriend successfully stood me up when I tried to open up the fuel-tank for a van I hired to move home.

But I love Star Trek…hold onto your ridges, Mister Worf.
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Going Offline: Day 54 – Going Online

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going online

I know, I know, ironic huh? Nelson harped on for ages about his addiction to going online on Facebook and wanted to get off it as it was so time-consuming and affected his relationship with other people, his performance in work, and wrote a few short blog-posts bleeding his heart to the wide world of human beings about his fragile ego needing a rest from a virtual fashion show of people’s lives.

And then he’s back on it.

Well, if you haven’t seen by now, I’m in South Africa spending time with la familia, my dad having been ill for so long and me wanting to be around him before time runs out. But since 2 weeks ago, this I can see will impact greatly on my career in the videogames industry, fragile and precarious as it once was before.

And now, I need Facebook…to contact people.

For all my good intentions of shooting the proverbial shit with my dad and the rest of his brood, no one needs a producer in little ol’ Cape Town, and I found that out the hard way after 2 months of being strung along by someone. It’s time to step up, get off my bum-bum, rewrite my Curriculum Vitae and become a full-fledged rat-race chaser, doing whatever odds and ends necessary to pay for petroleum for a run-down ve-HIC-le that will take me places for work purposes AND for comedic endeavours.

In terms of Facebook, that means being exposed to people again, promoting comedy shows and varying my repertoire, talking to long-lost “pals” and convincing them that I’m a gorgeous good-looking, charming little piece of ass-et that you can’t do without.

AND THEN I’ll be offline, keeping my head down.

So, you can call me a hypocrite for being weak-minded…OR you can stand-up and say, “Nelson…there’s a guy that needs a handyman, I’ll send him your number.”

Yes, yes you can do that.

Going Offline – Day 26: Sorry I forgot your birthday…

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birthday

Remember the days when you knew the birthday of your closest relatives and friends based solely on your relationship and proximity with them?

Like, your actual relatives and friends, not Facebook followers?

For years I spent wishing people “Merry Christmas” on friends’ Facebook walls as a constant parody of the blasé attitude people have towards the constant childhood need to be recognised as the lucky sperm that made it, thankfully not wiped away with a tissue or swallowed, which put me in a position not to offend anybody by relying on the social networks to remember those incredible moments in OTHER PEOPLE’S LIVES.

But I still do remember before we even had portable telephones in our pockets the important ones, the days we truly wished each other well on the day we realise we survived another year on this planet.

My mom’s, for example, I remember constantly growing up as she received phonecalls from people in the community, which to me was akin to a personal status update. Or my very very FIRST girlfriend’s just cos from age 8 to 12 I really liked her, to the lady that broke my heart as it soon before her 21st we got together.

I remember THOSE birthdays, but for the life of me I can’t recall anybody else’s, even my nephews (sorry boys and girl, I’m coming back to rectify that).

So today is both my sister-in-law’s and my housemate’s birthday, which I remember from last year where I quipped about it over the kitchen table and he went, “Oh yeah?” and returned to his conversation with a hot girl on Facebook chat, but as per usual I’d forgotten a card.

Or should I leave a card for a male housemate to a male housemate? Is that really appropriate to actually go out into a shop and pick up a birthday card for a male? Not a best friend, but a man sharing my house with me, that is a friend and a comedy colleague.

To me, I would say I’d have the same relationship as if I sent him a text message with an “x” at the end of it, and thankfully that is not what I do.

Nor would I do it…for he shall look at me like I’ve been painting “I love ####” all over my chalkboard with the door closed while listening to Celine Dion.

Celine specifically cos they’re both Canadian.

No, his day will be spent getting lurid messages from friends and colleagues and I’ll probably just come home with a few beers.

So, Merry Christmas from me. 😛

Going Offline – Day 13: 24 Hour Limits

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waiting

In other words, once you deactivate, you return to reactivate and THEN it says you have to wait a full day. Talk about waiting.

This is marvelous.

Not only do I ensure that no spammers keep sending me crappy mails telling me to join their group OR come to their show, but now I can literally limit the time I spend on the site itself.

It’s a mental hospital locking you up in a cell for drug abuse, and you’re left screaming.

It’s also…not working, as I’m now spending time on Twitter.

See? Addictive personalities need an addiction to cling on to, may it be substances (alcohol, cigarettes, drugs) or other forms of deprecation that hurts themselves or others…perhaps I can developer a sexual addiction where I just stop caring about rejection, approach every fanny I fall on and then tell them to bugger off.

Thankfully, my newest ones are Twitter, performing comedy shows and watching Star Trek. I swear, if I’m at least funny, I think I can do well being a loser twat with a currently-shaved making people giggle at my insecurities.

Have a happy and joyous weekend, people, and I’ll see you on Twitter (check the panel on the right for details on Twitter and gigs)

Going Offline – Day 11: Not entirely surrendering…

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surrendering

Ok, so I’ve rescinded on my stance to delete Facebook and never return by reactivating my account and ensuring it never gets deleted from its databanks. I’m not surrendering though.

Why? Two reasons:

1. I actually lost touch with someone for a week. I was worried, confused over the lack of communication that I wasn’t receiving from her, and she lives all the way in South Africa, so it’s not like I could just visit her place to see if I could smell decomposition from the kitchen. thankfully, I went back into Crackbook and she was there, all perplexed at my harrowed shock, only to find that her company’s servers were giving her trouble, and her mobile/cellphone was not receiving international texts.

2. It made me realise that I cannot lose the connections I’ve built up. It’s like a PR professional throwing away her contact book to swim in the lake. It’s silly, it’s stupid.

I’m heading over to South Africa to reconnect with family, but one day would return to London and I would require an easy method to contact old acquaintenances.

But I am still aware that I spend far too much time prowling people’s false perceptions of personal lives, and in the past week I’ve truly felt the feeling of isolation to the point that I then step outside, say hello to fellow human being, share a joke and a drink with an old acquaintance, reconnect.

So I am still off Facebook. It’s not on, you can’t find me there.

But I’ll be back… 😉

P.S. I was surprised people commented at my previous posts. I’m sorry I didn’t follow up on what was happening in my life thanks to the Facebook exile, but I’ll keep on posting about how it’s affected my little social life, and hopefully it helps you in recognising that some IT geek’s communication is another’s way of hiding from the fact that all you need to do to reconnect with someone…is to knock on their door.

So thank you.

Going Offline – Day 3: Chewing at the Furniture

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furniture

Ok, so it’s getting harder now not to think about it. I’m coming across so many doubts in my mind about why I even deleted Facebook in the first place I’m chewing at the furniture, as I’ve had the pleasure of enjoying so many options before.

I could sit and chat to whomever I wanted, even though I never truly did, while on some occasions people just popped up a chat window and spoke to me instead.

Also, there’s a nagging fear in me that I’m closing doors on options that may come to me, from people that Iv’e networked with, and if they were to hear from me again maybe they may consider bringing me on for small bits of work that they’d need me.

It’s kind of like sitting in the corner of a pub and someone asking for your help to move a table. It’s not a big deal, but makes a guy feel useful.

But again, I’m not sure if I can implicitly accept that I should reconnect again. Should I? I’m putting myself in a precarious position. What if I need those same connections again? What if I return to London and find that I don’t have any other contact details apart from messaging them on Facebook? These past few days just trying to find anything to do that will add to my coffers has been pretty much fruitless.

I don’t just miss the friends I’ve made, I also miss the possible connections towards a better life.

12 more days till I regret my decision…

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