Friday, April 24, 2009
after months of planning...
Peas: You up to anything tomorrow?
Dove: Not really. You?
Peas: Wanna do the usual…either get drunk, boogie and then faceplant into a mattress; watch a DVD? Or go to a meat market for TGIF whereby every five seconds some investment banker feels the need to grab your bottom?
Dove: Let’s go and hang out in Investec. That should be a gas.
Peas: Or, or! Let’s die of boredom, or or I have an idea: let’s go for a rowdy dinner at the airport.
And then, and then, I dunno, catch a plane to, say, Amsterdam?
Dove: I dunno hey. I’m just not sure. Paint Johannesburg red or go to Amsterdam.
Peas: It’s a tough fucken call.
Dove: Should we decide at dinner?
Peas: Amsterdam or Sandton. Amsterdam or Sandton. Which one?
Dove: This is balls.
Peas: ‘Luftballone’ is ‘balls’ in German. Or is it a 'hot air balloon.'
Dove: I’m so excited I actually don’t know what to do with myself.
Peas: Dude I saw a picture of an eisbein yesterday. Maybe I had a…romanticised view of boiled pig’s knuckle, but it’s a pretty ugly looking piece of meat.
Dove: I’m not touching that.
Peas: Oh yes you are.
Impossible to sleep last night. Just too much fucking excitement going on. More excitement than when the Hoff steps on stage in a jockstrap at a German concert.
We're going to hit these places harder than an oak dining room set falling from the sky and bouncing off the tarmac.
PS: Someone, anyone please keep informed as to who wins Idols. Enjoy the [more] public holidays coming up y'all.