Tuesday, August 2, 2011


And boobs. I luuuuuurve boobs!

I wanted to write about my adventures over the weekend, but was far too buggered to do so yesterday. I barely feel human yet as it is, but you, my adoring public, WILL NOT be neglected for another minute. Ok, perhaps a few minutes. As long as it takes me to write this account of misfortunes at least.

Friday night was a gathering of the close friends to help celebrate our friend Timmay becoming a father. He is now a parent. This goes hand in hand with saving for college, sleep deprivation and spending the majority of the time knee deep in runny, foul smelling baby pooh. And grinning like an idiot and beaming about how wonderful your child or children are. As compensation your wife has enormous boobs and is prone to whipping them out regularly...

Anyway, we stood around smoking fancy Cuban cigars, enjoying some awesome 12 year old Glenfiddich single malt and eating like kings. Quite obviously shit got out of hand and the next morning was greeted with something more than a mild hangover.

Than out to do some bass guitar window shopping with The Viking. Now one thing about "window shopping" off Gumtree you must understand, it involves a lot of telephone calls and driving. On hot Saturday mornings. With apocalyptic "drogies"...

The "drogies" were so bad in fact, that we decided to have a beer or 2. Then on to phase 2.

The Dean Of Univer City ever so kindly provided the party Land Rover and we wound our wild way to Stellenbosch and the annual Metal 4 Africa Winterfest. Pregame drinks were duly served all the way there, although the lack of in flight peanuts needs to be addressed. Anyway, cue an evening of deranged debauchery played out to a suitable soundtrack. Great friends, great event, great music, great performances. I thought that Cold Hand Chemistry and Ing were particularly entertaining and I'm very miffed to have missed Bulletscript, but I will most certainly make a plan to catch them soon. To the organisers, well done indeed - a roaring success.

I woke up - completely disoriented - in the Land Rover outside some place on Edward Street in Bellville at 4 in the morning. I thought I'd been abducted by some cult or other. I didn't feel very good. Thank God my people found me wondering around the street and got me home in one piece.

I had previously committed to helping a mate of mine move house on Sunday. I did. It went swimmingly. I fixed a toilet roll dispenser as well. All in all it was fine until Mumsy called to inform me I was 2 hours late for Sunday lunch and that all the food was "ruined"...

A few hours later and with a suitably "Sunday-lunched-out" tummy, I arrived at another friend's place. Actually, her ex boyfriend's place to be more accurate, the one she had just been asked to vacate. With my help.

I got home at 2:30 Monday morning with a stuffed back.

It's all good though.

Last night we were treated to some of Tarty Farty Tequila Party's gourmet cooking as she attended band practice, where she was in turn treated to Rose Thorn at her very best. Singing (or rather, playing keyboard) for you supper!

Which brings us to this evening's festivities. It is once again that time of the month. The first Tuesday of every one which means the might Team Burger King are going to assault the LMG Pub Quiz with our amazing knowledge, our offensive but friendly banter and our alcie breath! May the best team win! Obviously this hasn't happened yet, the Universe being particularly conspiratorial and unfair of late...

NGDG: "I mentioned Anthrax and death in a meeting with Senior Management. Sometimes you just need vivid hyperbole to make a point. Shame, een Oom het n bietjie gekak."

Spread The Love. And Do The Twist. Come On Baby!

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