farewell

so the time has come for me to leave london after four looong years.

yup, it’s true... ladies, fear no more, you are once again free to roam the streets of london after dark without the nagging worry that you may get picked up by a drunk-crazed saffa with a dark aura and an age complex. gents, fear no more, you are once again free to roam the streets of london after dark without the nagging worry that you may get picked up by a drunk-crazed saffa with a dark aura and an age complex.

it sure is interesting to look back at the last four years and see how i have progressed as a person since leaving south africa – what is the point of life if you aren’t learning and progessing?

when i arrived in london i was in a stable long-term relationship and having regular sex. i was in a steady job, had a place to stay, and a bunch of cool young mates. i was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, full of youthful exuberance... a happy drunk, with a penchant for the unexpected, and a tendency to drop my pants in public. i had loads of questions, and a plan to change the world.

four years on and i’m desperately single and using a dirty sock for sporadic bouts of masturbation. i have no job, no place to stay, and gaggle of (effectively) married mates. today i am a sloppy drunk, with a melancholic streak, a sense of foreboding, and tales of woe for anyone who will listen. i have no answers – just the knowledge that i know very little, and a realisation that the world is changing me.

however, believe it or not, i have no regrets (except perhaps a few failed relationships... and that ginger straggler in wales). i guess it’s the old adage that the travelling is the best part of the journey, not the destination. it’s the sides of the mountain that sustain life, not the top - here is where things grow.

of course i’ll always be able to hold onto the memories: friday nights in the city. sat nights in clapham. sun nights at church repenting. mon nights and home. tues nights at home. wed nights at home. thurs nights at home. god, how i enjoyed those nights at home... with nothing to keep me company but a tuna sandwich and a wild imagination.

but i guess the best memories will always be the times when i laughed with mates... and we sure did laugh a whole lot. white stretch limos, thames jumping at henley, hedge jumping, the mystery of the missing keg (?), december pool parties, comatose cowgirls on the night bus, sleeping under bridges and under the mat outside the front door at work and under a curtain at the hilton, sandtraps in barca, no maite no. religious ramblings with fred, soul searching with hobbo, talking about “the one” with kirk, and about chicks with wiggy. the pyramids, and macchu picchu, and the eiffel tower, white hart lane, and the brighton diner. pearl jam, rem, greenday, placebo, the chilli peppers, and the nude girls. and lyrics and literature that mirror the soul. and memories of hopes and fears and love and guilt and utter despair (mostly related to the spurs). and smiles. good moments. great memories.

anyway... so... i am probably going to have a quiet farewell drink on wednesday. sometime, somewhere. it would be great if you could attend. i may never see you again. you may never want to see me again. but it would be good for your karma if you arrived. i hold great sway with the soul of the world. and i would def make it worth your while... allah will bless you with many rosy-cheeked children... and then ensure that they don’t get involved with any of buffy’s offspring.

should you not be able to attend... no worries... i’ll be back in london in mid july (unless of course i meet a thai lady-boy and elope to some northern vietnamese rice-paddy to see out my days as a buddhist dog farmer... or i die in a plane crash). i thought i’d write this soppy leaving email anyway. just to stir some emotions. i sure do love a soppy email. almost as much as i like homosexual romcoms. anyway... too much noise... i’m straying off the path here...

my basic itinery is as follows:

19 april – leave london
22 april – shit myself doing speech at porto’s wedding
23 april – drive the garden route
30 april – back in good old durbs
10 may – fly to singapore. go where the wind takes me.
23 june – back in sa
30 june – grumbies wedding
7 july – sister’s wedding
9 july – back in london

for those (sad) folks who wish to keep up-to-date with my travels, you can bear witness to my comings and goings at:

www.weak-kneed-winch.blogspot.com

alternatively, should you wish to use your time a little more productively you could visit the following site:

www.nakedfhmbabes.com

cheers dudes and dudettes... it’s been real. hope to see you on wed. otherwise have an awesome couple of months.

laters

d

the selfish, they’re all standing in line
faithing and hoping to buy themselves time
me, i figure as each breath goes by
i only own my mind

the north is to south what the clock is to time
there's east and there's west and there's everywhere life
i know i was born and i know that I'll die
the in between is mine
i am mine

greg's big day out

a few chaps wanted to booze... greg's fiance had gone back to sunny sa... we therefore decided to have an impromptu bulls party. we decided on the big boat race in putney. we also decided on a speedo, kaiser chiefs beanie, homer simpson slippers, and a wooden suitcase in which to place our beers. the case was heavy. and so was my heart. another good man biting the dust.

we didn't realise the place would be soooo packed. but it was. super packed. greg was also super packed. the girl's were loving his speedo. and his super pack. the race was a bit of a non-event. cambridge won. i think. but folks kept boozing. and we kept boozing. so it was okay.

i don't remember much except some lady with webbed feet who lived in flat 132 opposite thai square. she was crying. apparently because of her abnormality. but she shouldn't have worried. because she was hot. i would have gone there. but then i'm desperate. but i've got standards. for the moment.

we ended up in clapham. kirk drew on greg's outfit. and my shirt. we drank. we danced. we dumped. actually we didn't dump... just needed another "d" activity. for asthetic purposes. it was a good night. i love bulls parties. it's just a pity someone has to get married afterwards.

laugh of the year

click here for classic footage of kirk dancing to chopsticks in the hotel bar in albufeira. the old folks dotted around the bar loved it.

burton

thinking about thinking of you
summertime think it was june
yeah i think it was june
laying back, head on the grass
children grown having some laughs
yeah having some laughs

you made me feel like the one

drinking back, drinking for two
drinking with you
when drinking was new
sleeping in the back of my car
we never went far
didn't need to go far

you made me feel like the one

i don't know where we are going now

wake up, cold coffee and juice
remembering you
what happened to you?
i wonder if we'll meet again
talk about life since then
talk about why did it end

you made me feel like the one

i don't know where we are going now

so take a look at me now