Showing posts with label cat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cat. Show all posts

Monday, March 23, 2009

hens parties, free state countryside & a wee bit of fun

Stick a fork. In me.

These nuptials are always fun, let's be honest. Wedding on Friday out there by Sterkfontein Caves. Hairy drive home, especially since my phone died, and had I broken down, well, who knows where my body be right now.

Saturday was up at the crack of dawn, sorting out last minute things for E’s hens.

We did an Amazing Race all the way down to Viljoenskroon, where a bunch of us girls wwould be partying it up on Poen’s farm.

Dressed the bride-to-be in this horrendous, appalling, peach satin emsemble, replete with sponges hanging off her backside to create a domestic air about the scene.
Made her carry around a pink polka dot broom and wear slippers. Luckily the high streets on Parys and Viljoenskroon find this rather dashing.

We had clues and things to collect all the way down there, with 6 teams.

Some of the tasks were:
1) buy condoms from a petrol station, blow them up, and attach them to your car.
(We got the performance enhancer ones, where the lube is meant to numb the appendage slightly. Couldn’t feel my lips for an hour.)

2) Sing a song to the lady at the vetkoek shop for the next clue

3) Blindfold each other and attempt to put make up on each other - messy.

4) Find clues hidden in each car and across the Free State countryside, do stupid things in the cosmos in the fields on the side of the road

5) Poledance around the Viljoenskroon road sign.

Loved the make-up-blindfold vibe, was particularly awesome – what with blue eyeshadow and red lipstick all over the faces of 22 girls – a sight for sore eyes I’m sure. All dressed like cowgirls and causing a scene.

Had E stand on the bar counter of The Thirsty Camel, Parys’ solution to nightlife. She had to get the local dudes to eat the sweets off her sweet bracelets – but didn’t get much choice, what with the dribbling retard in the corner, the weird barman and some other dude whose year she made, who came to wave us off on the road.

Back at the ranch, we had Fitzy’s (E’s drink. Vodka, cola tonic and water) until they came out of our ears, got onto a truck filled with hay bales and headed out to the mielie fields to have some champagne and salmon pate in this gorgeous super-colonial setting that is a Free State farm.

Then we went bosbefok, drank Jaeger’s, fined E for getting married basically, (it’s so nice to have her here. Living in Egypt and all, I miss my friend.) We did all the kinky hen’s party games, and.
I found a stray cat and adopted it.

Whoops.

These impulsive piano purchases and cat adoptions really have to stop.

There he was, a tiny orange cat, and I thought maybe trying to actually bond with a feline to see if I gel with such creatures would be a good idea.
Well after bonding, we checked to see if he was a dude, I decided on Dennis. Because he wasn’t an Imogen.

I was Slim Shadying with Dennis, a ginga kitty. I didn’t want a ginga pussy; but he found me and when I get back from Berlin, I’m going to collect it.

Dontcha love the name Dennis for a cat because it’s so arb? Sure, he’s a ginga, but have to look past that, as he’s super affectionate. He purrs like a muthafucka, sits on my laps and just chills. He’s a chilled pussy.

Christ I can’t believe I am going to have a ginga pussy. Not my first choice colour-wise, but Dennis really is a beeyoot. Maybe he’ll let me dye him purple.

So he will stay at the farm until he can come home with me, basically.

So all in all, a successful hen’s do. I think E had a blast, we all certainly did. What a total laugh. Hen’s parties really are a gas.

Hurt my arm. Not sure how. Big bruise.