Friday, September 7, 2012
ROBERT SMITH - VISIONARY
He of the explosively bedraggled coif and the slashed in distracted anger lipstick. He of the subtle whimsy and the anguished vitriol. (No one in this world does spitting, loathing spite quite like him). He of the oversized clobber and shy, but sharp, introspection.
He - even if it was one of his schmaltzier moments - on 1992's album 'Wish', gave us the instant radio hit and weekend classic 'Friday I'm In Love'. You don't even have to like the Cure to have sung that song quietly to yourself while counting down to the weekend on a Friday afternoon.
So. It's Friday. I also happen to be pretty much head over heels. I don't think people should shy away from expressing their feelings, heaven knows I don't usually. Probably why I can't seem to convince people I'm actually quite a cool guy. Really. I promise. Anyway, I have an amazing girlfriend and I love her very much. So whela! And it's not like I need to make up for something I fucked up or anything. I just feel like saying it!
Anyway, tonight we braai! Yes, yet another couple has floundered from the nest in the bosom of The Mother City and fallen head first in the guano that is Table View's sprawling suburban wasteland and soul vacuum. It really is a very nice house, it must be said. Apparently TDB has "scooped everything out well" and this is supposed to convince me to climb into their jacuzzi...
Tomorrow, would you believe it, Tarty Farty Tequila Party celebrates another year on this earth, and in some style too! We all have to convene at an undisclosed location in time to be whisked away by bus to another secret place. We then draw to decide on teams and embark on an afternoon of frivolity and boozing - The Amazing Race style Pub Crawl. Fuck, I love my life! I imagine this will involve clues to the next watering hole, challenges and prizes. I hope everyone comes armed to the teeth with cameras. I'm taking my Swiss Army Knife and a small Cape Coloured phrase translation book in case we need directions.
Speaking of, does anyone remember an expose on the telly once about the homeless in Cape Town? In one scene this one gentleman was informing the other equally motherless gentleman the well known and well worn phrase "Jou ma'e pu mah bru!" It was very hard to understand these guys as the speech was heavily slurred and the broadcaster would probably have raised nary an eyebrow if they hadn't included subtitles in the program. Seriously! "Your mother's c***, my brother!" In all its glory! Without the little Scope stares!
And on that sufficiently salacious note, have a good 'un!
NGDG: So the shatons notices that the shitters get shat on by the really big shits and when the chief executive shits come to visit Neal gets a shot to shoot the shit with them. Weird and frightening conversation that leaves them convinced I'm a business maverick or a nepotistee.
Spread The Love. C'mon! It's Friday!