Monday, March 02, 2009
by-product & trendy lurkage
Poen had a dinner party on Friday. I’m very lucky to have a rowdy set of coupled-up mates, you know. I might’ve been the only single chick there, but that’s where Bridget Jones and I differ: at least these friends, although very loved up, manage to break free, get a bit drunk, giggle with me and generally play the fool – both boys and girls.
And Poen and I always end up in the kitchen pissing ourselves senseless over something, until tears fall down our cheeks.
As one friend said to me, ‘Everyone here is a good person, and everyone cares for and loves each other. And everyone is fun. Surely that makes us good people and fun too?’ She continued: ‘If our friends are incredible, are we allowed to think we’re incredible as well?’
Damn straight we are.
Still, we really did get blotto on Poen’s patio. The wine was but a-flowing.
On Saturday I got whacked onto the guestlist of an exclusive chi-chi promo party, set at an expansive hugely ostentatious house in Dunkeld. A friend I used to work with said I should come along for free cocktails and oysters by the pool.
Hey, why not. Going to a party where I know no one is my new best hobby. No pre-conceived agendas, you pitch up and rock out, but only if you wanna. If it’s crap, you drink up and simply go home. It was sunny and beautiful, very Johannesburg Saturday afternoon-like, I was eating sushi, sipping champagne and sitting on a seat like a lurker.
Perching toute seule on a chair, by a pool, where no one knows you isn’t really lurking. Come on. I mean, I was on the phone to the Dove every hour, anyway as she gave me on-site feedback of moving into her new flat with her boyfriend. She’s moved to Illovo and chose the day Australia played the Proteas at the Wanderers to do it, so the removal van couldn’t even get onto her street.
The swearing was colourful on the other end of the receiver.
Ended up talking geek with a guy, felt exhausted after talking code, so joined another mate elsewhere.
[Side note: the waiter there thinks I’m stalking him. Which I assure you, I am not. I went there with my colleagues on Friday for lunch and he served our table. I mentioned he was cute, and he overheard. Of course on Saturday, we happened to meet there, and he decided to serve us again. Everytime I looked up, my eyes fell directly onto him and not even on purpose. Forfucksakes, he’s, what, 16? I’m not into kids. So, anyway, he probably thinks I want his beefcake or something. So whenever he spoke to us, I stared purposefully into the sugar.]
As she went home to her dude, I went home to my macaroni cheese and a documentary on crap.
I’m not joking: I was gagging for my night in with a TV dinner and to watch the History Channel’s latest insight: Crap: A Short History.
It’s not everyday you get to watch the history of shit. Girls don’t have bowel movements remember, so it makes it even more fascinating.
Some stuff I learnt:
1) Cow shit in India is a big deal. Bovines are religious deities, and their by-product is no different. They get cows to drop the fresh stuff in their new homes at housewarmings for luck.
2) You can blow up pooh. They did. “We are standing here in front of a colossal pile of crap. Of which we’ll prove to you that it is highly flammable.”
3) There’s a volcano of crap in Borneo
4) Without dung beetles, we’d all be drowning in crap.
5) Some dung beetles have exclusive tastes. And only do rhino dung.
6) The elephant is the biggest shitter on the planet. We’re talking king-sized crappers. And can fill a car boot full of dung a day.
7) A dude 14 000 years ago, dropped off the Huxtables in some cave on the plains of Oregon, and they’re now using the …stool for forensic DNA research to determine who really were the first people to discover America.
8) They threw the words ‘crap’ and ‘stool’ around quite a bit. Dudes dressed up like scientists, all very serious and geeky, and not one giggle was emitted.
I’m now reading the book about Josef Fritzl, Monster, the world’s most fucked up fuck. The case surrounding him, the dungeon he built downstairs in Austria, his daughters and incestuously-bred children, the whole thing. It’s scary, but the reason for reading it – is trying to understand how such depravity can exist in this world. What went wrong in his fucking head?
If I find out, I’ll let you know.