While all you reprobates are dashing madly around the northern suburbs of Joburg trying to find clues and shit for The Amazing Race, I'll be quaffing wine and catching trout for our dinner in Dullstroom.
I remember how it was: a catatonic scramble for the next frigging clue. You're schvitzing buckets. Your team mates are getting antsy. The pressure is on. You've already shouted at each other at least once.
That other better looking team is kicking your ass.
Last year, my group - Team Poen - came in fourth. Out of 25. Not bad, eh? We won a set of steak knives...rocking. We were also told off for being arrogant, yet beautiful.
Man, how sorry I am to be missing it this year!
I remember driving at unmentionable speeds in Ludwig up Sandton Drive last year - with shaving foam all over him saying things like 'Drop your doondies' and 'This Beetle is faster than your Audi.'
I'm trying to imagine what Madiba would've thought when we tried to hump the leg of his bronze clone at Nelson Mandela Square.
Luckily, the Amazing Race happens in a variety of northern suburbs like Fourways, Rosebank and Emmarentia.
Big shout out to Dean, for bringing charity into this one, well done boychie.