Well, it's happening. Not like in the good "It's all happening..." The bad, stupid, repugnant, archaic, dumb, pointless, shit, and totally kak new Liquor By-Law in the Western Cape.
It won't affect me, but there are a billion alcoholic schmucks out there throwing faeces at all the walls in Facebookland. I sincerely do empathise with the club owners, the liquor retailers, and the restaurateurs. I myself am usually passed out by 2am, so it's all really irrelevant. Also, I much prefer to have a well stocked liquor cabinet than be caught with my pants down. Also, I don't go out as often as I used to. Age is catching up. Luckily for me, I'm like my very own fine wine...
In other news, I really need to win the lottery. Work is SO beneath me. That is why I avoid it as much as I can. But sometimes I get a day like today. Aaaargh. Need beer. Now. Luckily I still have almost 3 hours before the steel shutters come crashing down like I was trying to steal the Mona Lisa.
Did you ever play that game "What I would do if I would the Lotto"? I did. I even played the Lotto. I broke even after the first year and decided it was a childish endeavour, so I gave it up. My gambling is now restricted to a defunct Poker Night. Here, blow on this for luck, would you. Anyway, like I was saying, I used to fantasise about spending vast wealth. It's funny how it's never the same. Every time I day dream about Scrooge McDuck-huge vaults of money, I come up with novel new ways to exchange money for stuff. Once I resolved to take all my band mates on a spending spree at Bothners. One of the most frequent plans is to take my mates on an all expenses paid booze cruise. Now even that will have to be toddler friendly.
At the risk of sounding too much like the proverbial ambition-less hippie, I do not like money. I like getting rid of money like a motherfucker. Hording money seems pretty pointless when you can swap it for all the cool shit out there. The acquisition of money is also clearly not high on the agenda. If it were I'd be halfway across the world, making Mum proud and actually putting my studies to use. Alternatively, I'd be involved in something highly illegal, making tons of money and being the family black sheep. In a world where everything is measured on a risk versus reward scale, I'm glad I'm not overly avaricious. Being someone's prison bitch is not worth it. I've heard...
Other things to spend imaginary money on:
- Audi S3.
- Big mansion with recording studio, jacuzzi and live music stage.
- All expenses paid tour for My Dying Bride, Paradise Lost and The Cure to come and play for me personally.
- A white horse with a horn grafted onto its forehead, so I can fuck with people.
- A never ending supply of Carling Black Label and Johnny Walker Blue Label.
- A trip to New Zealand.
- A company that makes skin-colour, bicep-shaped water-wings. Choose your own tattoo print. Total cash cow.
- A Brian Setzer Gretch with mother-of-pearl inlays.
- A 1975 Ibanez Concorde acoustic.
- A buy-back deal for Dave Lombardo.
- A time machine so I can listen to 'White Light From The Mouth Of Infinity' and 'Icon' for the first times again.
Anyway, the entire world is either paying tribute to, or spitting vitriol at the legacy of, The Iron Lady, old Maggie Thatcher. Dear old doddering aunt she ain't, but no longer among the living she now is. It is in her honour that I give you this little punk gem, from an old tape I had in high school.
And now for the truly scary news. Tarty Farty Tequila Party is putting together a femme fatale group of renegade ladies to challenge at the altar of a new Pub Quiz that's hitting Town. It's at Gourmet Boerie. Her heartfelt invitation to potential members of the fairer sex included referring to the whole deal as a sausage fest. I know...
Anyway, that's pretty much all I have for today. Things to do, etc.
NGDG: Rest In Peace, Margeret Thatcher. I loved your work in Sophie's Choice.
Spread The Love. "I'm Gonna Meryl Streep The Fuck Out Of This Tomorrow, You Watch."
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