Pear-shaped pay day weekends

It seems the weekend was quite an eventful one for everyone.  Whilst I lost a night’s sleep somewhere the following went down…

1. A workmate left our usual Friday night drinks session, went home and fell down the stairs. She now has stitches in her head and a damaged coxis – and is walking like Frankenstein.
2. Goth Friend had 3 glasses of champagne, totaled her car and spent Friday night in jail.  She is about to sue the police for her bad treatment (it was bad) and is hoping like hell that insurance pays out.  It’s the company that promises you ALWAYS get something out so hopefully they mean it. 
3. Party Partner got kicked out of a club we were at after having a bit of a showdown with somebody who apparently works for ETV.  There were no cameras present (pity) but we are still trying to figure out if the bouncers really were talking to management through their mouthpieces or if that was just a headset from a non-existent mobile phone. Looked impressive though.
4. The Springboks lost the rugby.  Which was pitiful.  Especially as (a) they were playing Australia for God’s sake and (b) I was supporting them for that match.  I have decided that whilst I may have had a few loser men along the way, I will be damned if I am going to support a losing team.  They had their chance and blew it.  Just like the men.

As for me … I almost outdid myself.  Payday Friday is always going to be a rocker and it was.  Reality set in on Saturday morning when the maid arrived at the door.  After 2 hours sleep she looked as shocked to see me as I did her.


After getting poofta woofta off to the parlour, I spent most of the morning at the tyre place getting two new tyres.  In that time I managed to drink a steri stumpi, swallow 4 headache tablets and send smses to find out if everyone else felt like they had an octopus stuck to their head trying to suck out their brain.

Then it was the rugby where I consoled myself by eating a pizza that set my mouth on fire and had me reeking of garlic for the rest of the weekend. 2 beers and an afternoon nap set me straight and it was off to Decodance with Party Partner for a friend’s birthday party.  Turns out there were so many damn birthday parties that night that the requests for bad songs just kept coming.  Not one to be outdone I requested a song and they played it after shouting over the microphone “This song is for Tequila Tart and it’s not even her bloody birthday” .  I rule ...