FULL SPECTRUM

Not the vitamins. The other thing. This weekend was chock-a-block with all manner of madness - ranging from the manic to the mundane - with a healthy dose of "wingerdgreip" thrown in for good measure.

Friday started off with a visit from Rose Thorn "because I haven't seen you all week" and quickly descended into a drunken affair replete with nostalgia and a bit of show-and-tell, explaining to a very patient Hot Girlfriend why the footage from past band rehearsals was so epic. Wine flowed, and almost some blood too, when dear Rose was almost forcefully taken home by Commander Conker The Saint. Ah, good times!

Saturday was a whirlwind of events. It started off with some heavy lifting. Hey! Take your mind out of the gutter. I don't even KNOW your mother... I am of course referring to the transfer of washing machines that took place. This was followed by The Greek's drum clinic, an hour of watching one of the best stickmen around sharing his knowledge with a stunned audience. I thought his approach was genuine genius. Play along with a metal song so loud that the audience is stunned into wide eyed wonder. Brilliant!
After that the hordes of Axxon gathered to sharpen the blunt instrument that is going to wreak havoc on your fragile minds at Metal4Africa's Winterfest this year.
Following a quick dinner, the Hot Girlfriend and I then went to the next engagement on the day's list. A 21st. I haven't been to a 21st in a LONG time. I was introduced to the girl's dad at some point and genuinely thought, before I figured out who I was talking to, that this person may well be younger than me...
Then it was off to the Weekend Wizzard & Hey Me Tarzan for their official housewarming. Awesome spot, awesome company, awesome everything! There was even a clown! Well, that's what I thought until someone pointed out that the idiotic looking tit falling bloomers first over the couches was in fact a guest, and not hired entertainment.

Needless to say the "hard chilling" came in with a vengeance yesterday. The Hot Girlfriend spoiled me rotten. Breakfast in bed, numerous cups of coffee and a couple of movies. Bar a trip or so to the lavatory, I literally didn't get out of bed until 16h30. And even then it was only to have a shower before Top Gear. Imagine my face when Top Gear had been replaced by some half cocked rubbish called Fifth Gear. WTF!

Anyway, after that Tarty Farty Tequila Party swooped in with her sponsored chariot and chauffeured us to TDB and Me-Swifty's new home, where we were treated to a surprisingly wonderful Sunday roast, considering Me-Swifty's speciality is lasagne soup.

NGDG: "Before you diagnose yourself with depression, first make sure you're not just living in Johannesburg."

Spread The Love. A Little Goes A Long Way.