I’m In Love
An incredible side effect of inebriation is deep thought. Thought about your life, your loves, your aspirations. Thought about everything that matters. On the dancefloor tonight, I thought about what means to me the most… Gabrielle. She really lights up my life. Kinda like a lighthouse to a ship out at sea. I thought about how much I miss her. How much I wanna be there for her… with her. How much I’m in love with her. And that’s the thought I fall asleep to tonight. Goodnight all!
- reddevilandy10
PS: I heard “Happiness” by Alexis Jordan playing as I walked past Pirates tonight and I couldn’t help but dance.
Week Three of Seven: The Purple Tide
28 days.
After eight days of self-induced silence, I feel like my readers deserve an update seeing that a rather infrequent posting pattern has, once again, set in. (more…)
Post-Springboks Ramblings
It’s pretty insane how much more you tend to appreciate people when you’re marginally drunk. Yes, I am typing this whilst a vile of brandy and vodka circulates through my body, but I can still understand, etc. Tonight was incredible. Not only did I offload a mountain’s worth of rubble upon another’s shoulders but also, I captured some truly memorable images too, mainly of my friends dancing like monkeys on the Springboks dance floor. (more…)
Untitled: Post #201
Some of the many people I've met along the way...
Wow. Life is pretty rough, eh?
I mean, 201 posts ago I was still in Matric, about to begin final exams, and here I am in college about to start 2nd year midterm exams. It’s like this continuous, cyclic journey through the abyss of time fraught with obstacles we need to dodge, or jump over. (In the case of Friday night, run into as well!) (more…)
Photos Between Friends
College is lonely time in one’s life. Other than the weekendly binge drinking sessions or the lecture before a big exam, you’re completely abandoned. It’s a solitary, desolate, 
hopeless business. When alone though, you seem to have so much extra time to think. You think about the future, the past, the present. You think about what you’re really trying to accomplish, or where your degree will get you in life. You think, “Is this really something I’m going to enjoy doing?” And, you think about the people who’ve become mere photographs stuck by reversed sticky tape to your dorm room walls, who you’ll only see for a few days in between months of terms. Both friends and family.
I love looking at these photographs though. I enjoy the expressions of everyone captured, almost as if the moment is still living, just frozen. Anyway, I just thought I’d share one of my favourite photographs of my friends with you today – I’m pretty sure my family hates pictures of themselves on the Internet. Oh well…
This was taken in 2008. It was the Matric (last year of school) farewell, and for some reason we were all shouting as loud as we could. I’m not sure why, but I just love how it captures the absolute joy at making it through twelve long years of school. It was a really great night. I guess my only regret was not knowing too much about ISO settings back then. My camera actually broke after the night because I snapped so many photos. The shop I got it from replaced it though. But damn, I miss those days.
High school was easy. Life, is so much harder now and there’s no sign of it easing off…
Punch-Drunk Love
“Drunk blogging. Be warned.
I love you. I see your face for the first time in ages and I’m smitten. I think you’re the most beautiful…”
This is what was on my laptop when I booted it this afternoon – presumably written last night after I came home. I still feel that way, even though I am pretty hungover. Getting drunk is such a bad idea. You divulge information that you wouldn’t ever in a million years if you were sober. Later that night, last night, after we came home from Springboks, I sent her a message, saying how I’d love her to be in my arms. I don’t know if I made a complete ass of myself or if it really made her think about my role in her life. Whatever it is, I feel that she knows how I feel.
She is so gorgeous, really. So, so gorgeous. I love looking into those big, immersive eyes. That long sleek hair. Those curvaciously defined legs. I even like her voice – it just calms me. It inspires me. I want to listen to it all day. It makes me write extensive yet totally pointless blog posts such as this one.
You can imagine then how it upsets me to hear that she is spending a lot of time with people who bring her no joy. Maybe temporary happiness, but no joy. She looked so sad last night. Yes, she told me it was because she has a lot on her mind. She needn’t feel like that. She can be happy. There are people who would do anything to make her happy. I want to make her happy.
Obviously, that’s a little difficult because of the distance issues, but screw that. If she’s willing to try I’m willing to try too.
I want to try. I wish she’d tell me that she loves me. I know she does. But will it ever be something romantic? Was Pringle just an incident, or did it mean something? I think it did. Well, it meant something to me anyhow.
Anyway, let’s speak about last night in general.
It was awesome. Springboks – how I’ve missed you. It was the first time I had been inside that place since… well, I can barely remember. I can barely remember much about last night too. It was so great! I had so much to drink. I feel so hungover now. But I just wish I had something else to smile about.
I apologize – my language is not very readable today. I feel awful, hungover, sluggish, tired and all that. So I’m sorry.
I wonder what we’re doing tonight if anything. I hope I get to see her. I really need to see her face again before I leave. I already feel pretty sad about leaving.
Post-Birthday Syndrome
As Ted in HIMYM so aptly puts it in the episode “The Pineapple Incident”:
“I’m back, babydol!!“
The two-week absence is not what I had in mind. There was this entire plan I had laid out in front of me after my birthday, and it just seemed to have, well, disintegrated. Not to worry, however, because I am back, if only for tonight anyhow.
Post-birthday (or PBS, as I’d like to coin it) is not a good time in anyone’s life it would seem. From the bombarding text messages, emails and Facebook wall posts birthday morning, to the dissimilar scarcity of them all a few hours late – the birthday is, and will be annually for the rest of one’s life, the most superficial 24 hours of the year. So yeah, if you must know, I have counted up the number of people who actually love me. I came out with a grand total of… just kidding. Everybody loves me.
With that said, I’m glad to still be alive. Since the 5th, I haven’t really had anything newsworthy occurring in my life, although, St. Paddy’s Day was and is still worth an entire post on its own. My friends and I painted each other green, drank green alcohol and Guinness, of course, and make one hell of a mess of Grahamstown… so much so that it rained the entire following day. It was great fun, really.
I’m actually out of practice in respect to this blogging thing. My mind has just wandered off somewhere for a brief moment. It’s back now, but unfortunately it couldn’t find anything to say. Nor could my fingers find the perfect, poetic combination of keys to press to make this post the slightest bit interesting. Oh well, I need sleep anyway. I’ve drowsed at 4am every night since St. Paddy’s, and even the night before that when we had a fire drill, and me, a 1500-word essay due for Friday. I had to finish it before Thursday though – you’re truly retarded if you think you can do an entire essay inebriated. I barely had the courage to get out of bed and hand it in the following St. Paddy’s morning. I was so, so hungover.
But, all’s well that ends well, hey? True story. Until next time, hopefully sooner than two weeks…
- reddevilandy10
The Monkey In Me
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
Okay, forgive me if the following makes no comprehensible sense, but I need to exercise this.
Friar’s teaches you a lot about life. It makes sure you know how to successfully pick up women, handle your liquor and watch out for too-unbelievable-to-miss specials. But one thing it doesn’t teach you is how best to deal with situations you will never deal with outside Friar’s. Seems obvious, right? But seriously, some things go on in that place that only, only ever goes on in that place.
That paragraph was slightly off topic, let’s back it up a little. You see, last year I fell in love with a beautiful girl who lights up every single ounce of my being. This girl makes me want to be with her all of thee time. Now, if I remember correctly, even though we were never ever officially together, we did share some amazing moments together. God, some awesome moments. So forgive me if I’m wrong in saying that when I see her with other guys I wish to pull their fucking jugulars out from their jaws.
I’m talking about two different things here. I’m sorry. Let me start again.
You like someone, a lot. They know you like them, a lot. They passively persist in kissing other guys in front of you, not so much but still, I can count. How do you feel about that?
How the fuck are you supposed to feel?
Yeah, I’m the one who is always there – so much so that I watch other people exploring your esophagus like fucking Darwin did Australia. It’s not cool. I don’t appreciate it. But yes, I do like being around you. Maybe not love you, like I do the previous girl I mentioned who still seems to not know what she feels for me, but I still want to be around you. The most important male figure in your life for instance. And yeah, it’s all good that you introduce me as your best friend but shit, that doesn’t exactly make the Sun shine any brighter. Sigh. I hate my life sometimes.
I get tired of holding on to something that may or may not realise. The people who are holding don’t even know, I don’t, she doesn’t. Where is it all going to end. I love you yes, but are we ever going to be more than just friends??
I’m pretty sure Friar’s could sort that out. God, girls hand out free kisses and grindings like it’s government aid supplies. Tonight was nothing short of awesome though, even if I am ending this evening on a slightly wet-paper-bag approach to (fun) life. Dull.
The Fallibles Of A Human Soul
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
Dispirited. That’s how I’d describe my feeling towards anything tonight. That 6-shot tumbler full of God forsaken awful made me think a lot now, totally the adverse of how I usually react to getting drunk. I thought about her, over and over. The sunset tonight will remind me of her again. The next toasted-cheese sandwich I see and eat will remind me of her too. Fuck, even the next girl I smile at will remind me of her. No, I’m not smitten, I’m licking my wounds. Saying goodbye was possibly the shittest thing I had to do all year. Nothing will compare. But somehow just hearing her say the words “I love you” paints the world in vivid colours of luminescence. I love her so much, I feel like saying “I love you” is simply not enough. I love her so much that I’d be ready to transcend the boundaries of our friendship to be with her in a heartbeat. I love her so much that I’m able to let her sieve through her feelings, needs, wants, basically her life, whilst standing at a distance, making sure to give her all the space she needs. Not a metaphor for Grahamstown by the way.
God, I can’t fucking describe how joyous I feel when I see her smile, or fel her hand upon my back – even though it may be laced with razor sharp nails. I love every word she utters, every gesture she makes. It’s ridiculous how in love I am with her. And guess what? Just as our friendship is beginning to harden into something that we can grow into, I have to leave. Fuck you life. Fuck you.
I’m so sad right now.
Vodka, Tequila, Jagermeister
Well, it has come to this. A drink of no less that 6 shots. I’ll try to keep you updated but right now, it’s sip sip sip! To love!
Across The Bay: The Prelude
I’m not sure if I have told you this already readers, but tomorrow my friends and I embark on a journey. A journey that will see us cut through the Western Cape mountains, experience years of distillery excellence and fight off the Sandman as he hassles for his own. Naa, I’m just kidding. We’re off to Betty’s Bay – a beautiful coastal resort town just East of the Cape Town metropolis. It’s going to be bananas.
The reason I say this is, well, partly because we have enough liquor to incapacitate a herd of elephants. Not to mention this little document put together by the clan themselves:
The Official 2011 Drinking Rules
NO COMPLAINTS MAY BE MADE ABOUT ANY OF THESE RULES ONCE THEY ARE FINALISED AND APPROVED BY SIGNING THE PARTICIPATION FORM. These rules may however be subject to change if all participants are in favour of the change being made.
- Standard Rules, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic:
The “two fingers” penalty is standard, unless otherwise stated. Note that non-alcoholics are exempt from drinking alcoholic beverages, but are obliged to drink anything else.
- IMPORTANT: The consumption of alcohol is optional between 03h00 and 12h00.
- Whoever throws up must clean up their mess. If not, the photograph best depicting the incident will be posted on Facebook.
- Everyone must help to clean at the end of the weekend. If not, the worst photograph of the subject taken will be posted on Facebook.
- Whatever you break, you pay for. If not, you run the risk of never being included on a group trip again.
- Ask before drinking from other peoples’ alcohol. Failure to do so will result in the victim being obliged to use the same amount of the offender’s alcohol.
- Saying “no” to a drink is only acceptable if the drink refused is substituted with another.
- Every time a dry joke/remark is said and no one laughs, a variation of the word “drink” is said and that person must drink.
- The first person to fall asleep on the first night must make breakfast the following morning with no help and clean up whatever utensils he/she used.
- Everyone must clean/wash their own dishes/utensils; if there are dishes/utensils left in the sink at the end of a meal, the person who used them must down their next drink.
- The Mine game’s penalty will be an alcoholic shot instead of ten push-ups.
- King’s Cup (non-alcoholics are exempt), will be played with a double deck of cards and two cards will be drawn at a time. At least one round of King’s Cup must be played each day.
- Every time the tune to Duck Sauce’s “Barbra Streisand” is hummed, sung or whistled, the person closest to the source must say “Barbra Streisand”, otherwise, he/she drinks. This rule, however, is not to be continuously used rendering it redundant and boring.
- All games (Copy/Paste; Shotgun; Like how?; etc.) are welcome to be played during the weekend, but they may not be used to force people to drink. If so, Rule 2.g. shall be enforced.
- If there is a disagreement to whether a (stupid) rule has been broken or not, another person has to confirm it. This is done by seconders, thirders, and so on, putting their hands up. The accused then has to Hoola down their drink. This involves downing your drink while dancing the Hoola.
- International Drinking Rules apply during drinking sessions, unless otherwise stated:
The “two fingers” penalty is standard, unless otherwise stated.
- “Buffalo” applies all weekend, alcoholic drink or not. Buffalo may also be called if a drink is taken while both hands are placed on the beverage.
- i. The “Drink with the Clock” rule variation applies. When the minute hand is in the first half of the hour (on the right hand side of the clock) drink using your right hand. When the minute hand is in the second half of the hour (on the left hand side) drink using the left hand. “Buffalo” can be called if the incorrect hand is used, and the incorrect hand is then also used to down the drink.
- No swearing is permitted.
- Drinks must be placed 1 finger’s length in from the edge of the table.
- No pointing, using fingers or fists is allowed. Elbows and nodding should be used.
- No one may be referred to by their Christian names, only nicknames and surnames allowed.
- The words “drink” and “finger” are disallowed. They may however be replaced with any other variation of the words. CTAB (consume that alcoholic beverage) my be used as a possible alternative.
- If falsely accusing people of breaking rules, those penalties must be borne by the accuser.
- Personal Rules, in alphabetical order:
The “two fingers” penalty is standard.
- Andrew: Every time he trips or goes happy trippy, he must drink.
- Bevan: Every time he pinches or pokes anyone, he drinks.
- Bradley: Every time he has a perverted thought or walks through a door facing forward, he drinks. He must walk through every door backwards.
- Dax: Every time that she says “yanie…” she drinks.
- Dean: Every time dean quotes stand-up comedy, words in accent or any piece of the performance/movie, he drinks.
- Gabs: Every time she’s caught playing on her phone, she drinks.
- Gen: T.B.C.
- Jason K: He has to drink his beer through a straw. OR Every time someone asks him what he is drinking, he has to answer non-beers by calling it a beer, and vice versa.
- Matthew: Every time he argues with anyone he must drink.
- Sam: Every time she talks about science, she must drink.
- Shane: Every time he makes a sarcastic remark or comment, he drinks.
- Shinead: Every time she and Warrick get caught alone, she drinks.
- Susan: Every time she does something out of character, she must drink.
- Tash:
- i. Every time she slurs her words or says “Check here”, she must sing one of her favourite nursery rhymes (she may not sing the same rhyme twice in a row), whilst standing on one leg, and once she has finished, she drinks.
- ii. She must also ALWAYS have a drink in her hand, beginning from 19h00 on the day of arrival while awake and up to the last day’s clean up. (*)This excludes fixed meal times.
- iii. Tash will have to drink a total of 21 different special drinks by the end of the weekend.
- Warrick: Every time he says “bra” or “squandered”, he drinks.
Participation Form:
The form below represents the participants of The Official 2011 Drinking Rules. By signing your name on this form, you agree to all rules and penalties and are completely satisfied with them. Note that once you sign this form, you are obliged to participate in all drinking activities, unless otherwise stated, during the weekend. Please sign below: (All participants sign).
Oh yes, we’re taking this very seriously. Well, not so seriously seeing that after about ten minutes of this little autocracy we’ll be wanting to dig our own graves and just mellow out in them. I shall try to keep you posted as the weekend progresses. I shall have plenty to say, plenty to capture and plenty to enjoy! So from yours truly and my friends, I bid you farewell readers! Until next time…
- reddevilandy10
When Friends Get Together
Having Corn Flakes at 01h30 in the morning? Only after a Thursday in Cape Town… and my word was it a good one. Finally re-united with my friends, the initial plan of Springboks was hampered by ill timing and long queues… but, surprisingly, up popped Tantra, one of my most hated clubs on the face of the Earth. Yeah, it seems nice on the surface, but once inside, you get bombarded by commercial crap, unrefined dance beats and some tracks that’ll make even the most alive fall asleep on the drinks rails. But, not tonight, Tonight they managed to bring back not only the essence of dance, but the essence of Grahamstown as well. It was manic! Yes, Cape Town is the place to be… I love it dearly, so much that it would be like a funeral for me to leave it’s fertile shores for good. Bu Tantra seemed to play all the tracks that reminded me of the good times of Grahamstown, as well as all the new friends I have made there. It was great!
Singing Mr. Brightside with Tash was probably the highlight of my evening! That song means so much to me! Of all the love that I have had, and love that I had lost over the past few years. I just means so much!
Anyhow, along with Monday night’s Boy’s Night, my week has been pretty special! With Warrick and I winning 8 games in a row, and winning 9 overall, Monday ranked pretty highly in my greatest days list. Today, well, tonight, was awesome! I love you guys so much! Tash, Shane, Bevan, Warrick, Dean, Dax, Matti, Shinead, Terri, Jason (Happy 21st bru!) and to all the others who make my life awesome, I owe you my being. You. Are. Amazing.
- reddevilandy10
The Final Mare
BEWARE: This post may offend some sensitive readers. You have been warned. Reader discretion is advised.
It’s only 01h15, but I’m home. After being beckoned to come out to embrace Grahamstown for the last time, even with a slight hangover, I obliged and now, unfortunately, smell of ten packs of Marlboro. Not only am I extremely happy, I am extremely disappointed too.
You know the unmistakable feeling of feeling insurmountably euphoric and then the next, feeling bottom of the earth unhappy? That’s how I feel now.
It’s a pity this night had to end. I really enjoyed it. Having to endure that the fact certain life choices may never actually be realised made me shiver inside. Amazingly, that life choice always happens to be one who you enjoy being with.
Yeah. The cold, unmistakable kiss of anger, resentment and utter pain.
The thing is though, I always seem to set myself up for these kind of moments. Honestly, I am no good at getting with girls anymore. I am no good. I may as well join the fucking air force and fly about just to crash because that’s what I do perennially. It seems as if that’s the only thing I’m good at. Don’t get me wrong though, friendship is something that will last a lifetime, but something ephemeral, that, my friends, is sometimes worth so much more.
I’m sitting here, half-sober, blurting out my most private and trivial thoughts to you, readers, I ask that you may empathize with me. I want to love some one who does not want to be in love with me. The scary thing? I’m all for it. BECAUSE it is love, readers, that allows one to make all decisions, regardless of hoe your life turns out. Regardless of what the circumstances may be. No, your only thought is about the one that you hold in your heart.
Love is about not giving a fuck about yourself, but putting all that time, care and effort into the one YOU love.
That is true love.
I can understand why it is so goddamn hard to find! I mean, what the fuck am I doing wrong? Is it because I care too much? Do I not possess a boyfriend bone in my body? What is it?
Anyone, please enlighten me! Because I am fucking sick of being single. It’s been best part of two years. 2008. That’s over 600 days. Do you know how that feels? It is not fucking comforting.
It is not something you can go to sleep to. Never have I slept any worse than I have after I come home from a party sober. Too see all the apparent lovebirds chirping amongst each other. Never!
I have had dreams of falling off a cliff, dying, butterflies being killed, but not once a happy ending?
I love my life, but at the same time, I despise it so much. To be honest, sometimes, hiding pain within happiness, is harder than not being happy at all. And that, my friends, is how I go to sleep tonight.
reddevilandy10
Sobriety Girls
The 22nd of October. The day that first year officially ends. The day that everyone explodes with relief and euphoria. The day that everyone gets pissed out of their skulls.
I had a horrible day. I handed my journalism piece in tow minutes late, which resulted in -20%. I had like three hours sleep in total. I had the personnel in my psychology essay group send some really mean emails, not to mention a few of my friends too. It was bad. So, initially I was not in the greatest of moods. Luckily though, my day seemed a lot brighter after I visited the student bureau and got a few hours sleep.
The end of term for me is usually shit. It turned out to be a pretty good day.
I have, however, made a few observations as a result of tonight’s proceedings….
I wanted to get drunk. Absolutely brainless. That never happened. Instead, I spent most of the night at Friar’s stone sober. It allowed me though to see the other side of the mare, what people tend to disregard when they’re inebriated.
Drunks are assholes. I’m not sure if it’s because when you’re sober you’re more aware of your misdemeanors or general conduct, or whether you just become a thoughtless, narcissistic idiot who thinks you rule the world. Is sober really that aware? I know some pretty sober assholes, and no amount of alcohol can worsen or better that situation.
Are drunks really that much more honest? I saw so many strangers hooking up with randoms tonight; so many girls giving themselves to guys they barely know. Why? Is that what they really want, or are their brains just not functioning?
Mind you, I know some amazing girls on this campus. Some girls who would make you seem non-deserving, immature and just generally shit. They are so amazingly gorgeous, your world will stop, you’ll stand still, the moment you see them smile. I know them. And believe me, I don’t even deserve them. The boyfriends sure as hell don’t.
Anyway, I’m really tired. Had an all nighter yesterday so I’m pretty knackered. I shall give you the full story tomorrow. Until then, sleep tight.
- reddevilandy10
B-52: The Bully Being Bullied
This past week has not been one I want to remember ever again. Namely due to the massive amounts of work I have handed in on the Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, but also because I got sick with not only a cold, but what I’m sure is some kind of eye irritation. Lovely. I’ve had the vision of a bat for most of the week.
Wednesday was something other than my complaints to talk about though. The infamous Warren was at it again. Having predrinks in his room is turning out to be a bad idea, especially when we’re with tequila and Cape Velvet… the silent killers. You do, however, need to let them into your house before they slice your heads off but this is where Warren’s hospitality lets him down. I counted no less than 16 shooters (Cape Velvet and tequila mixed) downed by that boy in the space of about an hour and a half… needless to say, it did not end well, nor did it end well for me though. I had one of his experiments and nearly died on the spot. I have a long standing problem and hatred towards the agave’s diabolical destruction of hopes, dreams and sobriety so yeah, I was waddling.
Anyhow, we get to Friar’s and about ten minutes later, Warren gets himself kicked out; albeit, he wasn’t really himself or any type of thinking person at that moment in time. It was a very, very big fail. But God, massive respect to him though. I have never seen someone put alcohol down like he does. Kudos bru.
The rest of my week revolved around work, reading and sleeping… with the occasional meal and game of pool, I had to juggle being severely unhappy and motivated at the same time. It is not an easy thing to do. Somehow, I managed to not miss a deadline, and I even learnt some Japanese too.
Yesterday, I went to my psychology tutorial to find out that I had a test. A test at seven. The tut was at five. I hadn’t studied. I’m going to fail that test miserably. But, saving grace – I hope, I did manage to suss out certain answers, based on the actual wording of a question. Even then, I’m sure I screwed that up. If I get anything above 50 for that test, I am Legend.
Today is really not even worth a paragraph. Did absolutely nothing. I look one half Satan too due to my red eye and yeah, the unwashed hair with crowns standing up like horns do not help either. I guess I’ll have a snooze now. It’s been a long, long week, and I’m really just glad it’s all over.
22nd October – it’s gonna get messy. For the last time.
- reddevilandy10
Welcome to the College Life
Two really early A.M. posts in the space of, what, three hours? Welcome to the college life readers. Turnitin is still being a selfish SOaB and I still don’t have that damn report – looks like it’s going to be a late hand in. Oh well, at least I have my psych 101 credit all wrapped up and garnished with a bow. That’s one positive!
Seeing that I have such an abundance of free time all of a sudden, let’s take you back, readers, to what was Saturday, October the 2nd, 2010.
Venue(s): Pirates and then Friar Tuck’s, Grahamstown.
Time frame: 20h00 till about 04h30am Sunday morning.
Objective(s): Getting my friend, Luke, totally legless. Happy Birthday bru!
So, this evening was always going to be a bit of a jigsaw puzzle when it ended. Somehow, you enjoy yourself even more when you know you’re get to play Horatio in the morning. You could feel in the air, the rainy, humid, almost Capetonian winter air that engulfed Grahamstown that evening, that things were going to get tragic. In total, Luke must have had about three litres of glee-inducing beverages. Me? In comparison? About 1.5. It wasn’t my birthday though to be honest… and I had made myself the designated cameraman!
We got to Pirates, kitted out with wide smiles from the not-so-well-diluted punch and were pretty upset when we learnt the lack of any drinks specials on the night. Nothing really happened here, except Warren (you’ve read about his previous escapades with Bushmansous, I’m sure) and JEF engaging in God-knows-what type of media tribunal political talk with someone who I’m sure is like a DA spy. I bailed, I didn’t want to think at that point in time. And besides, I wanted to enjoy my two slices of thick-based Pirates regina. That went down really well. So while the others were getting jam-jarred, I thought I’d have a draught and watch the MTN8 final. Yes, the Buccaneers won. Again.
We left Pirates just after 22h00, and scurried over to Friar’s through sticky drizzle… which just became more and more irritating as the night went on. By this time, those who had ordered a jam-jar each were pretty spaced and looked about ten percent dumber per essay than when the day began. Luke decided, once we arrived, to have a downing competition with another friend, Ryan, just to, well, finish the jug he had just bought, I guess. So they downed. Two full glasses each. Full of Russian. He then proceeded to order another jug. But this is the part of the story that starts to get really hazy in my mind. I, myself, had two double Russian specials, so I was pretty gleeful too. But what I don’t remember is why Luke and Warren decided to get up on the table. No one knows actually. It made one pretty epic video though! Apparently, those two had Zappa shots as well and about 20 minutes later, we were all on the dancefloor. Friar’s was pretty empty, not its usual self, especially for a Saturday…
I really can’t even remember how things unfolded after that. I remember being called a girl(in a much more derogatory way though) by JEF when I came from the bar holding a Russian, lemonade mix. I was thirsty okay! It’s not nice to judge. I downed it anyway. I was really starting to get hot too.
So we danced, from David Guetta, to Katy Perry, to just about everything else I’m sure. Luke was river-dancing. Ryan was dancing like bigbird from Sesame Street (and thus the birth of a great new nickname) and I? Well, I was… not sure what I was doing. I know it looked cool though! Some guys left again at 12, including another friend Tim, and his girlfriend, Sanam. They never go out with us. But was really great seeing them looking all awkward on the dancefloor – definitely not their usual habitat.
01h00 came and went by just as quickly. By this time, I had the mindlessness (epic fail alert) to go up to the bartender and ask for, and I kid you not, a “double coke and vodka.” Yes. I know. Judging by that alone I think it’s fair to say where my state-of-mind was.
In the end, only four of us remained: Warren, Luke, Carsey (Steve) and yours truly.
Of course, this is just a log of what happened, because what happens in Friar’s stays in Friar’s, but it’s really tempting to divulge more…
Mmm… naa, I’ll refrain this time!
We even managed to get a lift (the great part about associating with ladies who have vehicles in club environments at 4am) not only home, but to BP as well! We’re that good! I bought the usual: Squillos banana flavour and 10 ZAR worth of chips.
I’m pretty sure if we had not found a means of getting home that night by not using our own bodies, we would have found Grahamstown’s gutters extremely comfortable. Especially Luke, who was seeing some serious stars in that partly cloudly sky!
We got back to res at about 03h40 or so. I parked off on a couch, the others all found their one too. Out came the food. I spilled my Squillos which I was really, really upset about. Like, honestly, I was mortified.
We kept on having a debate on the girl-who-gave-us-a-lift-back’s name… We all thought Warren was playing the fool when he said her name was Ming-Yong but, it actually was! Well, not spelled like that but the French way or something to that effect.
Luke couldn’t remember phoning both his mom and his girlfriend. I helped him get to his door to as he couldn’t quite remember where he lived. The keyhole was a bit of a mission too… but eventually he opened the door.
I ran up the stairs (which, somehow, I can always seem to do 100% when spaced out of my mind), opened my door, jumped into bed and went straight to bed. I was knackered!
Lunch yesterday was very interesting. Bar the huge dehydration headache I had, we were all attempting to piece together the jigsaw of what was a truly immense night! It was one of those, when all you can do is laugh at the dumb crap you caught on the night before. One of those that you seriously regret the next morning due to the almighty headache felt in the morning. One of those where the bouncers pretty much applaud your exit, and are sad to see you leave. It was massive. Truly massive.
Cape Town is going to have to pull out all the artillery to live up to that night. Grahamstown is amazing with the right weather, atmosphere, date, and friends, it can match any other city in South Africa for value-for-money partying.
Moral of the Story: I think it’s only fitting that we have a moral of the story here. The moral, well, what I think the moral is: sometimes, a person needs to forget who he/she is in order for he/she to rediscover themselves. Don’t be afraid to enjoy your life, it’s yours after all, is it not? You should, however be afraid to not make the most of what is a really amazing gift given to us by the higher power of this universe.
Luke, bru, I hope that even though you did not remember much, that you’ll always remember this day as one for the internal scrapbook collection.
This has been a reddevilandy10 recollection. Over and out!
PS: Psych 102 semester essay has been completed, handed in and uploaded. Fingers crossed that it’s a good one!
An Ode To A Pizza
Okay, so I did go out.
Some very random things have taken place tonight… I’ll try to recap.
Firstly, I was the only guy to not be wearing a suit (yes, Barney Stinson would revoke my bro license immediately) in our little clique. Secondly, I took part in an initiation ceremony to welcome myself into the aptly named nOsh Crew and yes, that is how you spell it. Thirdly, afterward, I had to walk up High Street blindfolded, whilst trying to get to Yellow House and avoid my le Coqs from getting scuffed.
Those were the random events, now for the actual point of the post.
We (seven of us) arrived at Yellow House after tripping and stumbling across the pavement. I had a Heineken to kick things off: cocktails just don’t appeal to me anymore. Anyway, my friend had ordered a Guantanamo pizza complete with bacon, banana and chillies. Sound good? I will try my best to describe just how this pizza was.
I honestly felt like crying. The sweet banana wrapped around the salty bacon with the mozzarella holding the flavours together, whilst a bolt of chilli surrounds your tongue with this warm, comforting glow – it just evoked such happiness inside of me. It was reminiscent of sitting by the fireplace on a cold winter’s day. It was truly the best pizza I have had ever here, and possibly the best I have had ever, anywhere. The crust too, was the perfect thickness, the perfect crispness, the perfect texture. It was a harmonious accord of food in concert inside one’s mouth. Just truly epic, as my friend recalled.
Somehow, the JagerBomb I was sipping on (yes, it is not a shooter if it comes in a glass!) seemed to complement the fiery flat-bread perfectly. After those three magnificent slices, I was genuinely sad that there was no more.
I guess all good things are good because they are ephemeral, only lasting for their designed time. Sigh.
A post dedicated to a pizza, but thoroughly deserved.
- reddevilandy10
PS: Thanks to the nOsh Crew for the night out, it was really awesome. All of you keep up being nOsh!
Friday The 13th: Part Two
Crap, I hope that psychology test went well. I felt assured writing it, I mean with multiple choice you have a one in five chance of getting something right. I’ll have to wait and see the outcome.
Meanwhile, it seems to be national Barbie day in Grahamstown or something. I swear, I’ve never seen more skankily clad females in my life. Well, maybe a few other times but damn, I swear all these people are going all out tonight. Tomorrow it’s Welcoming Drinks too, a Smuts tradition and pretty much the reason why many Smuts boys die of alcohol poisoning. I’m not doing it though. I don’t intend to pay 70 ZAR just to get abused and humiliated. I can do that myself, and for way less too.
There are house parties, res parties, hall parties and all sorts of other parties to go to. I, however, plan to stay indoor and either a) fall asleep, b) begin my English and JMS essays, or c) play pool all night. I’ll probably end up doing the latter, but then again, I really need to stop procrastinating. Especially since the football season officially begins tomorrow. I am pretty stoked about that.
Well, I think I’m going to hit the showers now, seeing that everyone is starting to drink really early tonight, it’s about 8.30pm here. Last call here is something around 12, so it’s really early. But most of Rhodes is pretty much dysfunctional by 10pm.
I’m out!
PS: Have an awesome Friday the 13th, and may good luck be bestowed upon you on this allegedly unlucky day!
- reddevilandy10
Recent Comments