Wednesday, June 19, 2013
PRINCESS PANTS AND THE MOST EXPENSIVE POOH EVER.
Howdy. D'ya miss me?
I've been away. I've adventured in far off lands. I've consorted with the natives. I even managed to refrain from greeting everyone with the immortal phrase "Rolux Magnum!" And although my bar side banter was as pithy as hell, I wasn't wearing a hat.
Yes, I was in your and my favourite city, Johannesburg. To be present for the most auspicious of occasions, the wedding of the Meyodies. And to make sure in person that the magnificently beautiful bride, Lissa, made an honest woman out of my friend, The Meyer Of Awesomeville. Which she did, and in some style I might add. Their vows had us in tears and in hysterics. The entry procession was heralded by The Cure. The gorgeous bridesmaids danced down the aisle as TMOA stood their grinning like a poephol watching his soon to be wife barely held back by her proud dad. The ceremony was very capably handled by the groom's eloquent brother and the poignant reading equally so by his sister. (I'm not going to tell you what it was, but it couldn't have been more perfect.)
Not only were the newly-wed couple the most handsome and happy 2 people alive, but the entire vibe was glorious, helped on in no small amount by the free-flowing booze and even more free-flowing love. I hope that one day my wedding is as memorable and magnificent as theirs, and I am proud to have been a part of it, even if just from the bar. And an added bonus to the proceedings was that I got to catch up with some old friends and acquaintances. The PyeGye and BlondeBassistBabe - awesome seeing you guys again! Furthermore I finally got to meet the Immortal Neal Goldwyer, whose wit is as legendary as is his ability to entertain. What a time we did have! There was even a tipple or two involved. Also, Michelle and Michal, pleasure to have made your zany acquaintance. Even some famous tattoo-er faces from Cape Town...
I was, for the entire long weekend, ever-so-graciously hosted at The Dormer-tory by none other than the wonderful Princess Pants. I was treated to breakfasts, beer and late night chats that have left me virtually catatonic from needing to catch up on so much rest. I was also treated to a thorough tour of the entire city - thanks to the miracle of GPS - and an almost constant string of expletives that would leave a sailor contemplating some concrete boots in False Bay. Thanks so much for the hospitality and the chauffeuring, and everything else as well.
Sunday was greeted with bleary eyes and vague recollection. We made our way off to TSAR and ASH for a lovely Sunday roast lunch. The perfect way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon, loosening one's belt while splayed all over the most comfortable sofa known to man. Well, this man.
Sunday evening was earmarked for a "quick" catch up drink with school friends of mine who have been married since forever and deserted the lush playground of Cape Town for the dreary and the drab. Or so I thought. Pulling into their driveway, I was convinced we were at the wrong place until my buddy sauntered out to greet us. It was like I'd seen him yesterday, when the truth is more like 16 or 17 years ago. His wife possibly even longer, as evidenced by her screaming and almost tackling me to the paving. Well, one drink turned into two, and two very quickly became the most pleasant all-night-long affair I've experienced in many moons. KikiSquared - you guys rock! Thanks for a wonderful evening - I hope that we get another opportunity sooner rather than later.
Monday was set aside for a lunch with DrHellCuz and we ended up at the Randburg Waterfront, as you do. It's more like a large Crazy R5 Chinese Shop mall with a stringy pond and some ducks. Nevertheless, there we sat, attempting to set new records in offensive language, both in volume and frequency. Family restaurant my arse. Making damn sure we'd be at Lanseria on time, we bade our hurried farewell and scooted off in Elna.
Getting to the airport with oodles of time to spare, we settled in for one last pint. When the nice lady who lives in the speakers summoned my flight, we threw back our last sip, walked the 30m to the door, said our farewells and that was that. Deciding on a quick "rest stop" before the awkward "mile high in the movie house" bathroom trip, I ducked into the nearest bog. After which I took a brisk walk over to my boarding gate, eager to get home after a wonderful weekend.
In an ill-advised attempt at suicide, the bespectacled gate-keeper informed me that I had missed my flight. I was stunned - initially thinking he was taking the piss. The more I asked "Are you joking?" the more serious the situation became. The plane's doors were already closed and the mobile staircase already moving away, and despite being only 10m metres from the plane there was nothing legal I could do.
Trudging back to Kulula's sales desk in the depths of despair, I finally felt what it was like for the apparently pious to make the arduous journey to Hell after having been regrettably denied entrance through the Pearly Gates. Part confusion, part despair, part rage and part highly befuck with myself and frustrated beyond belief, I eventually managed to board the next and only plane the fuck out of there. My Sister and far better half of the DSW to the rescue - I am grateful for the support structures that hold my life together and keep me from committing homicide and/or harakiri.
I'm glad to be home. And fuck Kulula. They'll hear from me when I have the strength to deal with their shit.
Anyway, other than the extra ticket cost, the weekend could not have been more enjoyable. Thanks to each and every one of you incredible people for everything. The only thing that could have made it better, would have been if The Hot Girlfriend could have joined me. Next time...
Oh, and I got to see Eddie Izzard last night. For the second time. Fucking awesome!
So, we're back in the swing of things. And surprise, surprise, the fucking Proteas are at it again. One wonders if they should practice a bit more fellatio on each other - that way their gag reflex wouldn't force them to choke every bloody time...
NGDG: If I ever get banned from square one, I'm in deep shit.
Spread The Love. Even to the Joburgers.