Beers, burgers and queers

I have to thank the wonderful Revolting Cocks for that little gem of a heading. I just said head(ing) and cocks in the same sentence. Ooops! Well that should get this blog read by a few more people if they do appropriate searches on Google. Will be checking the stats …

Anyway, now that you are shocked into a stunned silence (much like some of my male friends this weekend when I mentioned that Vuvuzela and I were going to watch some porn in our room) I shall regale you with tales of our adventures in the Gay Quarter this weekend…

I was actually there in the name of “work” so you can all read the “nice” and detailed version there. But suffice to say we had a ridiculously awesome time as girls tend to do in the company of men who actually prefer the company of men. We also ate a lot of burgers.

The highlights were these…

• Being complete girls and relishing in beautiful things we cannot afford in equally beautiful shops. If I had a Rand for every time we said “When I have money I am coming back here”, I would probably have enough money to afford the stuff I am going back for.
• Finding a waterfall at the back of a boutique. Only in the Cape Quarter and only in shop with wallpaper that made you feel like you were in the Amazon.
• Delighting in being doted upon by the owners of La Petite Tarte who lavished us with attention, delicious food and wine.
• The Lindt Chocolate Studio. Really. Can there be any place more heavenly. Especially when they are having a sale and you get three slabs of chocolate for R10 each. And a free ice-cream tasting and a chocolate ball to shove in your pocket on the way out.
• The wonder that is The Spar. The Spar in the Cape Quarter is no ordinary shop in a chain of grocery stores. There’s a deli, a bakery, sushi bar, a chemist and a food bar where you can design your own sandwiches. There’s also crocodile and wildebeest pâté . Have you ever? In a Spar?!
• Spotting a pair of hot red heels as we entered our purpe guesthouse. Belonging to one of the owners who is a drag artist. He has since appeared on Top Billing wearing them.
• Giggling like naughty schoolgirls upon discovering an interesting dvd collection on the bookshelf in our room. Interspersed with mainstream dvds. It pays to look closer at what people keep on their bookshelves.
• Enjoying a glass of wine thanks to our gracious hosts, whilst overlooking the city from their rooftop garden at dusk. We truly live in a beautiful place.
• The barmen at Beefcakes. This could be a whole blog in itself (well it will be when I write about Beefcakes) but let’s just say that they are as yummy as the burgers that are served.
• Realising that all the gay people in our party where sitting on one side of the table whilst the straight ones were sitting on the other. Perhaps because the straight ones (being all girls) wanted to ogle at the waiters in the mirror without making it obvious. Even though the whole point is to ogle at the meat serving your meat.
• The look on Gorgeous Gay Friend’s face when he asked if I would like salt with my tequila and my immediate response was “Only if I can lick it off the left nipple of the barman.” Gay men get shocked when you talk about other men like that. Like the thought had never crossed their minds.
• Grabbing the ample pectoral muscle of said barman on the way out and telling him how hot he was. He smiled and told me to come back anytime. Sigh, bet he says that to all the girls. And boys.
• Going into a darkly lit bar on the way home that clearly used to be a garage and speaking to the barman who was in a speedo. I managed to maintain eye contact (but only just).
• Watching said barman running down the street a few minutes later, still clad only in his speedo.
• Enjoying a nightcap at Madame’s. With its ornate balustrade you feel like you are in New Orleans.
• Indulging in fluffy white robes and divine bath stuffs at the guesthouse. It’s those little touches. Vuvuzela will agree that the chez lounge was a nice touch too.
• Watching one of the said dvds and witnessing a man trying to give himself a blowjob. The lengths he went to was quite impressive. And he swallowed. You're gagging now aren’t you…. Sorry, wrong word to use… You're puking now aren't you…
• Waking up to the sound of oranges in the juicer and the smell of croissants. Raspberries in the yoghurt were a real treat too.
• Having a gander around the Village Market with its many interesting stalls. More food! From Istanbul to Cyprus, sausages that have been cured for 3 months to award winning marmalade, from samoosas to seafood. There was other stuff too, but the food definitely held our attention the most. Even after breakfast.
• Watching Vuvuzela get tipsy after one Long Island Iced Tea at Café Manhattan. She’d never had one before so I recommended she try one. Not my fault she’s such a lightweight.
• Going back to Café Manhattan for Vuvuzela’s rings that she had left in the bathroom. Luckily they were still there. Why people take off their rings to wash their hands beats me. Especially when they are half trashed after one iced tea.

Who would’ve thought work could be so much fun. On a weekend too! Next one is District Six …. Who’s game to join me?

But first, another long weekend. I could get used to these short weeks. In fact last week I felt positively cheated when it was a five-day week. How dare they!

Enjoy it folks. Go to Beefcakes for some meat and a tequila. Remember to pack your speedo and your heels. Just don’t take your rings off in the bathroom after a Long Island Iced Tea.

Too many parties and not enough weekend.But there is hope…

Blog pressure is another form of peer pressure. I did a blog last week detailing all the stuff I was going to get up to and now I am constantly being asked about how it was, what did I do and when am I going to write about it. Seemingly once you start something you need to keep it up. Insert wisecrack about bishops and actresses here… I know you already have.

To be honest I can barely remember exactly what I did. Thankfully not much photographic evidence. I hope. I do know that I possibly outdid myself. Especially as people I don’t remember seeing have asked how the rest of my weekend was…

Friday started with the usual after-work-drinks. The dop system is alive and well here. Being in a supremely cheerful state of mind and possibly looking for trouble, I got started early. Before I knew it I was no longer going home before the gig. Monster and The Young One were despatched to fetch me for a “before party” at Rose Thorn’s. Like I needed a before-party. Mine had started at 4.30pm! So in my work clothes and armed with about 4 bags I arrived on Rose Thorn’s doorstep, giving her neighbour (who I have never met in my life) a great big kiss goodbye as he was leaving for another party with RT’s other half. A few more drinks and some supper and then we were walking down the road to Mercury. Good thing I don’t live there, Mercury would’ve made a killing out of me by now. Met up with the Porksta and The Rock Star at the bar and discovered Sailor Jerry was on special. Uh oh…

What ensued was a rocking night with one of the greatest bands to ever come out of South Africa. Ok, I stole that from a magazine. I hardly knew Fetish, apart from a few songs. I was living in the UK while they were reigning on the South African alternative stage. But I sure know them now. I also know their feet really well. For some absurd reason I have a lot of photographs of their feet. Have I developed a foot Fetish? Personally I blame it on the fact that I can barely see over the stage when my face is pressed up against it. But their music was damn good and I had a great time. Too great a time. The Viking and TenMil arrived in the wee hours and the party continued until we were kicked out.

The Swift arrived bright and breezy at about 11am on Saturday and I could barely get it together after 5 hours sleep. At about noon we set off for the Lumberjack Festival. We spent the day ogling at men with chainsaws and axes. And checked shirts. And facial hair. You could literally smell the raw testosterone mingling with the sweet smell of sawdust. Beers, axe throwing, burgers, chainsawing, tree climbing, tree planting and music were the order of the day. Some damn fine eye candy too. The Swift even managed to sit on a lumberjack’s face. Ha! I can see your raised eyebrows from here. Ask her about it sometime. Am so going back next year. With a lasso and without a hangover.

After a much-needed nap it was time for the symphony of doom. I have to admit my heart wasn’t really in it when I arrived, but I had agreed to help out Monster by taking a video so put my big girl panties on and dealt with it. Half the faces from the night before were there (and they certainly remembered me from the night before) and I knew everyone on the stage so it wasn’t so bad. The music wasn’t so bad either. In fact the only depressing thing was not the doom metal, but the serious lack of leathers. Gasp! What a disappointment! But by 11pm I was ordering my first round of tequila’s (compliments of the band members) completely having forgotten how rotten I felt 12 hours before. I got to bed an hour earlier than Friday night. Seemingly I never learn.

Needless to say a quiet week has ensued. But got a nice surprise on Wednesday when Monster took me as his plus one to the Shannon Hope gig at the Fugard Theatre. Gig is actually not quite the right word. More like an intense performance in a hauntingly beautiful venue. Monster has spent the past year warbling on about Ms Hope’s talent and I have turned a deaf ear. But I have to admit, the man is onto something. Something incredible. So it’s my turn to warble. I don’t know all the fancy music lingo (base/bass guitar remember) so let me just say that I quite simply blown away. And not just by her fabulous red heels. Her music and her lyrics took me back to places that I thought I had tucked neatly away behind a well-built wall. The pain, the anguish and the reality of love, heartbreak and life. By the end of the evening I felt like I had been on a journey to my inner core and all my old wounds felt raw and exposed. I was exhausted and had a headache. Quite fitting that it was held in an old church, it was almost a religious experience. She was so good that a girl from Joburg who had never heard of Shannon Hope before that night was impressed enough to go and buy both her cd’s straight after the show. I am definitely going to do the same and am going to drag every one of my friends to her next show. Which shouldn’t be far off as she’s moved to Cape Town indefinitely.

So what’s next? Well this weekend is seemingly one of gay abandon in the streets of the De Waterkant. All in the name of work. 24 hours in gay bars, gay restaurants and overnight in a gay guesthouse with my trusty sidekick and “assistant”, Vuvuzella. Am considering trading my Gay Street sign for a couple of tequilas whilst I am there. By the way, have you seen the bodies of those men in Beefcakes? Poor bastards have no idea what they are in for…

Fetishes, lumberjacks and leathers...

Ha! Nothing like a good headline to get people to click on the link... I know this. Which is why I spend more time trying to figure out catchy headlines than I actually do writing anything. Monster has grasped the same concept, except his is in pictures. Men are simple like that. And there goes my free tequila tonight...

So we are having "Cheesy Tunes Friday" in the office today. Right now it's Total Eclipse of the Heart. Scary part it that I know ALL the words. Even scarier is that I had this wild idea to share the eclipse with my Facebook fans (sorry, friends) and couldn't find a music video for it on YouBoobs. Yup, it's that old, which makes me feel old.

Anyhoo, distractions distractions... which is partly why I haven't been blogging. Too many distractions and things to do. Hang on, been summoned for a ciggie break ...

Do you know how hot it is out there! Damn ... the heatwave before winter really sets in. I hope winter doesn't set in tomorrow, I have plans!

So, what have I been busy doing for the last two months you ask? Here are some highlights:

Up The Creek
I go every year. Like some sort of alcoholic and band pilgrimage. This year I went with Barmy Bernie and Madcap Menno. They were awesome and we had an absolute jol. The sun shone, bands played, I met Jesus at the bar, tried my hand (er, waist) at hula hoops with Party Partner and shared my liquor with pirates.

Partying with The Rudimentals
A friend celebrated his 30th birthday in style at The River Club and had non other than the Rudimentals play at his party. Now how cool is that! There were also free drinks at the bar. Which made conversations with Tehobo Maidza (who is also Zimbabwean) very interesting at the end of the evening. I have photos.

A rockstar wedding
When my Rockstar Friend said he was looking for a photographer for his wedding I said I would take the photos as a present. WHAT was I thinking?? I still haven't managed to get through them all (thankfully they are patient). But it was a fabulous day involving a roadtrip with the Mad Greek where we got lost trying to find the venue, the groom in tears (of joy), Party Partner passing out in the bushes and an impromptu jam session after we got kicked out. I love being friends with bands.

Cruising along
Every year I am asked to take photos of a certain function involving engineers and a boat cruise. It is quite a lucrative annual jaunt where I get to go on a cruise from the Waterfront out to Clifton, scoff loads of snacks and drink free beer. I also have to take photographs on the side. This year was particularly fun as Vuvuzella came along (she also does work for them) and the two of us managed to get a chap from Chile absolutely hammered. I mean seriouuusly hammered. I have a photo of him posing by Table Mountain, followed by one of him and us two with shots of tequila. The last we saw of him we were carrying him to a taxi promising to follow for "some good times fun". We shut the door and went to Ferryman's for a nightcap.

Row, row, row yer boat
Being the "year of doing stuff I wouldn't normally do" (did I just say that? That means trouble) I signed up with my Lesbian Friends to go river rafting on the Breede River. I took my trusty Dancing Partner along as she needed a break from the city and she's such fun (and I didn't want to row a canoe dingy thingy by myself). What a jol!! Met some cool lads who were so friendly we thought they were from Joburg (take note Capetonian men), drank lots of tequila, got crapped on by other campers for making too much noise ("We didn't all come here to get pissed") and managed not fall out of our canoe dingy thingies. We did however crash into banks, hug trees and have a mini dodgem-canoe dingy thingy session. Plus a swig of tequila or two on the river. Best fun ever. The Orange River awaits...

Another wedding
Two weddings in the space of a month. What is wrong with people? Marriage is SO 1950's. But whose complaining when everyone comes together to celebrate a day of love. Not me. I never complain about fabulous food, beautifully decorated venues, free love and free booze. Reckless Freckles is finally married to The Tonester, her "lover" as she likes to call him. I have news for her about sex after marriage (if all my married friends are to be believed). The Usual Crew was all there looking all spiffy (men really do clean up nicely for a wedding I have to say) and the clouds cleared to celebrate a happy union. I did speak to RF's mum and when I said "Ah well, at least you don't have to organise another wedding" her response was "Thank goodness. And thank goodness I only have one Reckless Freckles."

Uh oh.... That makes 2 weddings .. which means a funeral must be on its way... Does a goldfish count?

Easter weekend
Most people eat loads of chocolate over Easter. I also ate loads, but not chocolate. Plenty of curry, samoosas and turkey though! Monster and I had a fun time in the cheerful district of the Bo Kaap where we scoffed samoosas and Mnet sandwiches and went walkies while he secretely hoped that his car would be stolen. It wasn't. Thankfully, because getting home would've been a bitch. Then it was a restaurant review with Mum Friend at a restaurant that her car couldn't get to. Serious hills in the Bo Kaap causing screeching tyres. So we walked up the equivalent of half of Table Mountain to get there. Mighty glad the walk was downhill after lunch. The view was good though. And the curry. The following day was the Annual Easter Lunch at The Machine and Slappy's house. See what I did there? Annual. Now they have to have one every year. These two are not conventional by any means, so we had turkey for lunch. Thanksgiving at Easter. With tequila. It was yummylicious (the food as well) and I was having such a good time that when The Young One and Monster wanted to go home I was just short of throwing a tantrum. But I am supposed to be a grown up. So I did what grown ups do. I poured another drink and lit a cigarette in an effort to stall things. Which it did, but not for long. So with quivering bottom lip I was bundled into the car and made to go home. Not ready to throw in the party towel yet, I then whined and whinged about the lack of alcohol in my house when I was "just getting started" to The Machine on BBM. Resulting in him fetching me. Men hate it when chicks whine. We drank more tequila, hit the Sailor, watched The Lost Boys and sang along to Bryan Ferry whilst Slappy danced in the kitchen. I got home the next day. Now that's more like it!

See. That's how busy I have been. Not to mention all the "work" I have to do for the magazine I write for... like restaurant reviews, blogs, accommodation reviews, weekends away ... It' all too much really.

So why the heading you ask? It wasn't purely to reel you in. Tonight I am off to watch Fetish play a gig for the first time in yonkers. In fact I have never seen them live. Good thing is that if I need a lift home I live in the same road as the bass guitarist. Groupie ...

Tomorrow is the Lumberjack Festival in Stellenbosch. I am so excited about seeing manly men wielding chainsaws that I have borrowed a checked shirt for the occasion. I shall also don a cowboy hat and as Monster put it, "lassoo meself a lumberjack". I think I may just try throwing an axe as well. Preferably not at someone. It is also Vuvuzella's birthday. Perhaps I should lassoo her a lumberjack as a present. I am sure she will share.

THEN, as if that's not enough, on Saturday night I am off to a symphony of doom where Monster, The Movie Maker, TDB and Rose Thorn (amongst others) are going to be treating us to a night of doom classics (like I even know doom classics). There will be guitars, men with tattoos, men in leathers and tequila. It is also in memory of a man from a prominent band who has a rather nice big willy. So I really have to go. I will also be filming it. Which should be interesting as I would have had a day of drinking beer with lumberjacks and my "payment" for this filming job is in booze. I wonder if I will be allowed to drink tequila off their guitars or leathers? I was going to say willy's, but I will be banned before I have even got there...

OMG... the Final Countdown.... Cheeesy deluxe version... I need a drink.

See ya next week folks!! Rock on in your sarong ...or your checked t-shirt. Or your leathers...