POMPED

Jeeesh, what a weekend! I'm pomped. And I have an entire week to get through...

I had the distinct pleasure, privilege and honour to be in the same room as the legendary John Cleese on Friday night. And by room I obviously mean auditorium at the Cape Town International Convention Centre. Even when he's being pointedly droll he's funny. The show was fantastic, revealing interesting insights into his illustrious career and life. Particularly his eulogy at Graham Chapman's funeral. I am forever in debt to the lovely B.O.B for being kind enough to take me to this awesome show.

Saturday evening started with a bunch of smses inquiring why I had not yet made an appearance at a very important birthday party. I was referred to, among other things, as a "douche-canoe". 10 points for originality! Needless to say, by the time I got there, things were in full swing, the birthday boy already 16 sheets to the wind and fighting a losing battle with gravity. Fun times! Entertainment provided! I especially liked the part where I had to apologise to the rather good-natured next door table as he attacked them with his foam pirate sword!

Quote of the evening? Apparently "Is routers like fried chicken?" the answer to which is quite naturally "No It's what makes your computer internet."

Shit went downhill from there...

Sunday was greeted with a diabolical hangover. I got up to make coffee. I made coffee. I reached into the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk. I poured this into the coffee. What I thought was the carton of milk was indeed the very similar looking carton of cooking wine...

And then it was a race to get to the mate's house where we had decided to watch the Rugby World Cup Final. Enjoyed the game, unfortunately there had to be a winner. As Richie McCaw gave his post match interview, he said "I'm absolutely shagged." I looked and looked, but couldn't find ONE sheep. Liar!

Started a fire and set about getting tucked into the beer. Toasted the All Blacks against my will, with Jagermeister, which is at least blackish. We'd probably have had Springbokkies were it not for that effing ref... Great fun was nonetheless had by all, especially our generous host's 2 year old son, who was packing a water squirting pump action pool noodle and taking great delight in soaking all present. "Nat hol" indeed...

Having eaten enough meat to make a vegetarian spontaneously combust, we skedaddled off to the folks for a leisurely lunch. Aaah, that is what all Sundays should be about. Overeating...

And then the heaven's parted, celestial lights streamed down, angelic choirs raised in deafening chorus...

... and Greame Smith scored a half century. So did the rest of the top order, and the South African Cricket team were suddenly on top of the world again, giving the Aussies carrots. (It gives me unending pleasure to say that.)

NGDG: "Being drunk all weekend is an art. Well, I don't know if it's art, but I know what I like."

Spread The Love. Artfully.