The Tart, Napoleon and a test tube baby

The headline is far more interesting than this blog is going to be. This week has been a busy one so I haven’t had time to update the world on my hedonistic little life. Online deadline … which usually coincides with magazine deadline as well. Basically it means I run around like a headless chicken trying to load articles online in time for the new magazine coming out in stores and then on top of that I get hounded by a sub-editor for my piece in the magazine on events coming up. Which I never get done in time because no-one can plan their lives a week in advance, let alone three months in advance. So by the time all the interesting events come into my mailbox, it’s too late to include them in the mag. Sigh, what a vicious circle. Oh, and I have discovered why it’s called “deadline”. Because it can actually kill you. Or make you want to kill others…

So I could be going home to my cosy little house and cute waggy-bum wooftas now, but I thought I had better make an attempt at keeping this blog thing going. Once you’ve started something and all that. Oh the pressure! I really do hope I get a free bottle or two of tequila out of this effort one day.

After Taste of Cape Town, it’s been a fairly quiet week. But there were some highlights:

• Having a “Test Tube Baby” shot with The Documentary Maker at some dodgy club in the city on Saturday night. Basically curdled Amarula swirling around in a sea of green (that they claim had vodka in it). Looked disgusting, but tasted quite good. My only complaint was that it didn’t actually come in a test tube. I never got to try their “Flaming Dragon”, but probably not a bad thing. If the test tube one was anything to go by, it would’ve probably been a gecko in a matchbox. Actually that’s too imaginative for that lot. 
• Aqua-planing to get to Groot Constantia in the middle of a storm. Then running through the rain and splashing through puddles while scaring the ducks. Followed by swanning about in soggy feet (my boots apparently have holes in them) quaffing wine and eating copious amounts of food, all in the name of work. Reckless Freckles was my “plus one” for the event and we made a perfect team. We had such a good time that the event finished at 5.30pm and we only left two hours later. Needless to say we both had headaches the next day. 
• Finding out that Napoleon was a big fan of Groot Constantia wine, which means we have something in common. So my next dog is going to be called Napoleon. He will only respond to commands made in French.
• Having chocolate cake for breakfast at Organic at Heart. A chocolate cake that was made using beetroot. My mother always said that breakfast was a healthy way to start the day and that vegetables are good for you. I effectively killed two birds with one stone. It was delicious too, they masked the beetroot very well and the cake wasn't purple.
• Starting a search for a male escort. Seemingly there are not too many male prostitutes in Cape Town. Well not many willing to, well, service women. Watch this space, I WILL find one and let you know all about it. If you really want to know, that is. Seemingly people do. 

This weekend I will be terrorising the good farming folk of Bot River, drinking wine and judging beards. I will be staying in a villa that has a jacuzzi with Monster, Slappy and The Genie. I did find it a bit ominous that I had to fax through an indemnity form.

Tasting Cape Town

Last night Slappy and I ventured to Green Point for a styling evening amongst the well-heeled at Taste of Cape Town. I usually avoid these things like I avoid hipster hangouts because (a) they are usually over-priced, (b) there’s never any parking and (c) the queue for food and beer is enough to make to you cry. But I won tickets and thought Thursday would be a good evening as nobody ever goes to the first night of anything, let alone out on a school night.

We finally got to this food-infused shindig after a beer at Ragazzi (we figured that there was no way we were going to get anything as cheap as R11 for a beer at ToCT so it was a good way to start the evening) and as usual, parking was a nightmare. Being the good lawless citizens that we are we found parking in a spot that made the parking guards edgy and made our way to the entrance. Seems the tickets I had won got us in, but not much else. Not even a wine glass for tastings. Gasp! Those unfortunate wine lovers (or alcoholics depending on how you look at it) with no glass had to buy one for two “crowns” (R10). I was penniless (as we know from my last blog) so we decided to share a glass. I also knew that at some point someone would be drunk enough to leave their glass somewhere and I would just pilfer it. Which I did. Being penniless makes you savvy and being drunk helps the penniless.

Our first stop was at the Original Cocktails stand where we  had a shot of gluwein for free and spent our first crowns on a Pina Colada (me) and a Cosmopolitan (Slappy). Then it was the Lindt chocolate tent where we got free Lint truffles and samples of their 70% cocoa range. On to the Jack Daniels tent where the promo girls felt sorry for us as we didn’t get a bag with promo items in it  - “Why did you not get a bag? They must’ve made a mistake.” -  and before we knew it we were seated at the bar and tasting the new Jack Daniels Honey (lip-smackingly delicious) and being dealt cards which afforded us a cocktail-shot. So far so good! 

We were quite comfortable at this little beehive, but realised we were meant to relinquish our seats for the next lot of honey-samplers and so reluctantly left the bar to go try a spoonful of Paella from the Spanish Cooking School. And so it went on … moving from stall to stall pretending to be interested in their products, while eating as much bread smothered with various dipping sauces or oils as we could get away with. Some finer moments included:

• Just about popping an entire green chilli in my mouth at the “Eish” stall while thinking it was a chopped green bean. Thank goodness the stall owner stopped me before I had a very eish moment indeed.
• Not listening to Slappy's advice and putting too much habanero sauce on my square of bread, resulting in me burning the roof of my mouth off and trying to soothe it with copius amounts of bread lathered in olive oil.
• Pressing a baby tomato firmly into some garlic salt flakes and needing a gallon of water. Turns out you are only supposed to use one flake, not cover the entire tomato as “this is very strong salt”. No shit! Slappy, being the eternal goth, was quite taken with the charcoal salt. I can see goths lining up at Spar stores across the country to buy black salt in the near future.
• Slappy buying a pink flamingo keyring at the Beefcakes stall and then wedging it in her glass of wine for a photo. Goodness knows what she’s going to do with the flamingo, but perhaps she keeps losing her keys and needs a bright pink beaded keyring to assist her in locating them. Or she has a secret flamingo fetish.
• Taking photos of people’s portions of food and saying things like “How do you feel knowing that you have just paid 8 crowns, for a tiny piece of raw ostrich? And did you know about the avian flu going around ostrich farms at the moment?” Piece of raw ostrich with coriander leaf: R40, look on his face: priceless.

In between dunking mini pieces of bread into various sauces and nodding politely at the stall owner’s promotional waffling, we quaffed wine and made friends with the people at the absinthe stall (best absinthe ever!) resulting in us having been invited to Wellington to visit their farm and see how absinthe is made. We may never make it back. Slappy also treated herself to a magnum of whisky liqueur while I tasted my way through Hawaiian cocktails. The evening was going swayingly well.

Half way through this soiree we realised that we didn’t have many crowns left and had essentially spent the entire first batch on booze. So we went to get more (you can only buy R100 worth of crowns – sneaky bastards) and set about finding food. The choices were endless and ridiculously expensive considering the portions, but we ended up tucking into a rather delicious lamb potjie pie which was definitely worth its 5 crowns (R25). If you can only afford one thing to eat at ToCT, have the pie. It will keep you full for days. 

Before we knew it, it was closing time. We had 5 crowns left in our stash and wondered frantically what we were going to spend them on (you can’t return them for cash). We did think of donating them to the rhino people or perhaps the angel people. But then we remembered the Lindt tent. One crown got you two truffles. 

All charitable thoughts went right out the window and we left Taste of Cape Town with 5 Lindt balls each. Marie Antoinette would’ve been proud…

You win when you eat da chicken

So last night I joined Mom Friend for the evening as her hubby is away and she needed help with fetching her car from the mechanic while she fetched her child from school. She could’ve done it all on her own, being the capable woman that she is, but this would’ve meant that her daughter would’ve been the last one at the school and as we all know that is just horrible (and spooky). It all involved a lot of strategic planning – goodness knows how single parents do this stuff – and was made more difficult by the fact that I can’t phone or sms or anything because I need to pay for my phone. Which I haven’t this month. Yet. Note: Donations to the phone fund most welcome, I promise to sms you to say thanks.

Anyhoo, I got rewarded for my efforts with a box of ciggies, “Because if you can’t pay your phone bill, you probably can’t buy fags either.” Bless! Love it when my friends look after my best interests and my habits. They are the expensive Malborough ones too. Long time since I had those! But that’s not all, I got treated to Kentucky Fried Chicken for dinner. I cannot remember the last time I had KFC as I tend to avoid places where they are known to make burgers out of pink chicken-gut gloop. But not one to look a gift horse (gift chicken?) in the mouth, I gladly went along with the plan. Wow! What a place! No wonder it’s so damn popular. First off it’s chicken (but is it really?) and you always win when you eat da chickeeen. Secondly, it’s so cheap! Sorry, cheeeeeep! Ok, that’s enough.

Where else can you buy two burgers for R18?? TWO. Bloody hell. The next time I am out partying with a pal and we decide we need sustenance to get us through from 3am (bedtime) to 11am (waking up time), I am going straight to KFC. For R9 each we can get a burger with mayo and lettuce, which is more than enough to see us through the midnight munchies. And the roll is good for soaking up alcohol. And R9 is pretty much all you have left after a night out anyway. If you are lucky.

Then there’s all sorts of other stuff they have on the menu, including a new addition in the form of a bun-less burger called the “double down”. I kid you not – two chicken “fillets” with lettuce and mayo sandwiched between them. Not a sniff of bread in sight. Fascinating. They still have their mash potato and gravy (I used to love that) and now there’s “pap and gravy” too! There’s three different types of burgers, a zinger, a colonel and the original. Goodness knows what the difference is between them – a different flavoured mayo? A different breed of chicken? Then there’s wraps, nuggets, wings, legs and breasts. You can buy a bucket of chicken or a streetwise feast. It’s mad! And then there’s the kiddy meals that come in a little box festooned with cute little chickens on it. It’s so damn adorable all the adults want one too. Not to mention the toy…

Needless to say it took me ages to decide what to have, but in the end I got a wrap with chips and a Fanta. Mom Friend had the same (probably because she was also too overwhelmed with choice to make a decision) and kiddy got the cute chicken-covered box with nuggets in it. She struggled with the choice of toy – never give a 3 year old a choice between three things. And off we went, back home to enjoy our night of takeaways in front of the telly. I felt like I was in true family suburbia. So this is how the other half live! Chicken nuggets and dsTV. It’s not bad. Much better than sitting in front of a laptop until 10pm and then scoffing two slices of toast before bedtime.

Tonight I go a slightly different route. The Taste of Cape Town route. I won tickets so feel the need to go. I have bugger all money (again, donations gladly accepted, along with credit cards) so Slappy and I are going to see how much free food we can get and how many "crowns" we can pickpocket. At least if we fail we can go to KFC and buy two burgers for R18. Viva le chicken!

ps. Last night I dreamt of beakless chickens with four legs chasing me down the road with laser guns. I am not sure if was the KFC or the James Bond re-runs I was watching on dsTV.

Seeking the ultimate pub quiz team

I used to belong to a pub quiz team that was legendary beyond a doubt. A few of the elite members of Team Burger King that have been mentioned in previous blogs included Monster, The Viking, Madcap Menno and TDO. Unfortunately that team is no longer, mostly because the LMG Pub Quiz was abandoned and we had nowhere to go and partly because some of the team members became “grown ups” (gasp!)  and had better things to do than go to a beer-fuelled night of answering questions and shouting profanities at other teams. (Needless to say Monster and I were not one of those – we will never grow up.)

Sigh, I do miss those nights…

But there is hope. I have been informed of a new pub quiz, called CityMusicQuiz that is starting at Gourmet Boerie on Monday nights. There’s some comedian involved called Rhys Woods who is on 5FM and 2OceansVibe Radio. That means the small problem here is that this event could potentially be filled with nasty little hipsters, who are threatening to take over every watering hole in our city. But, that said, I am intrigued to see what a quiz night involving a comedian, a bunch of hipsters and gourmet boerewors rolls would be like.  So I want to go and check it out. If only to eat boerie rolls, make a noise, drink beer, have a shot of tequila and scare hipsters. But to do this, I need a team. And not just any team… a legendary Tarty team! Seeing as it is a CityMusicQuiz, I am going with Top of the Tarts and Monster reckons it should be called Tart Toppers (he’s quite good at coming up with clever names).  But that’s up for discussion. It also needs to be a team of women. Because whilst we know that men can be sluts, they don’t make very good tarts (unless they are gay of course).

So I am searching for women (preferably tarty ones) to form a legendary pub quiz team that will go out once a month on a Monday (every week would just punish our wallets and our livers) and have some fun.. It will be the ultimate girls’ night out. Beer, wine, comedy and well, a sausage fest. Heck, we may even win prizes. But before you quickly wave your hand in the air going, “Me, me! Pick me!”, there are certain qualities you need to possess to be part of this team…

1. Be available once a month on a Monday (most likely the one after payday). No babysitting cancellations, no husband or boyfriend dramas and no period excuses. If you can’t make it you will be expected to find someone to take your place and you will be made to buy everyone a beer at the next quiz.
2. Have some general knowledge. Geographical and historical knowledge is a huge plus. 
3. Music knowledge goes without saying. It’s called CityMusicQuiz so they are likely to focus on music. I know bugger all about music (although I now know how to spell bass guitar) so I expect my team mates to answer all these questions.
4. Failing all of the above, you need to be entertaining or good at going to the bar and getting drinks. Or both.  I was in Team Burger King purely to keep everyone entertained, but now I will be heading up a team of tarts so I need to keep everyone safe from the clutches of hipsters and any other unsavoury characters. Plus make sure none of the hipster teams are cheating.
5. Be able to drink at least one shot of tequila. You are in a team with the Tequila Tart. Enough said.

And that’s it really. If we find the sausage isn’t up to our standards and we are running out of hipsters to crucify, we can always go to the pub quiz at Oblivion  on Monday nights (Mondays are the new Fridays) where we can swig wine while swinging on the pole. Either way, it’s going to be legendary.

So who’s in?

A tribute to The Iron Lady

Baroness Margaret Thatcher died today. I didn’t know her personally and don’t really pay much attention to politics. Besides, I was only seven years old when she became the first and only female Prime Minister of England.  But she has always fascinated me. Or should I say I have always been fascinated at how many people seemed to despise her. So much so that she even got the nickname “The Iron Lady”, which is really not very becoming is it?  So when a movie about her life came out I went off to see it. 

Turns out, The Iron Lady had a huge effect on me and gave me a whole new perspective on what her life (or any woman in a position of power) must’ve been like and, being a woman, for living life myself.

My favourite quote from the movie was this…

“I will never be one of those women, who stay silent and pretty on the arm of her husband. Or remote and alone in the kitchen doing the washing up for that matter. One’s life must matter, Denis, beyond all the cooking and the cleaning and the children. One’s life must mean more than that. I cannot die washing up a teacup.”

Gasp! In “those days” women were generally thought to be better off in the kitchen making dinner, washing the dishes, taking care of the house and tending to the children while their husbands went out into the world and earned a living.  But there was going to be none of that for Ms Thatcher. And good for her, I personally couldn’t think of anything worse. I am no major feminist (and yes, I do like a man to open a door for me, it’s called manners),  but I am grateful that we have come a long way since then - and that dishwashers were invented.

I also tend to agree with her opinion that people should be encouraged to stand on their own two feet and stop whining when things go bad and do something to change it, instead of hoping someone else will.

“What I do think is a man should be encouraged to stand on his own two feet. Yes, we help people. Of course we help people, but for those who can do, they must just get up and do. And if something’s wrong, they shouldn’t just whine about it. They should get in there and do something about it. Change things.”

And here’s one that our country’s leaders could learn from…

“Gentlemen, if we don’t cut spending we will be bankrupt. Yes, the medicine is harsh, but the patient requires it in order to live. Should we withhold the medicine? No. We are not wrong. We did not seek election and win in order to manage the decline of a great nation.”

Baroness Margaret Thatcher, aka The Iron Lady, was all about principles and about working hard for what you wanted (for yourself and the good of your country) and not relying on handouts. I have the same belief system.  She also became Prime Minister in a man’s world and that wasn’t easy either.  Things have changed a lot these days, but it still essentially a man’s world, so I really admire her for that.

Despise her all you like, she had strong beliefs on how things should be done. Many of these beliefs are lacking today and, in my mind, attribute to the downward spiral that the world is going on. Yes, perhaps she was a little “hard” and made some mistakes, but from politicians to women, we desperately need more people like her in this world today.

RIP Baroness, I shall raise a cuppa to you this evening.  And I promise not to die washing the teacup.

“Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's a day you've had everything to do and you've done it” - Margaret Thatcher

I’m back! Now somebody get me a tequila…

Ha! You thought I had gone all Baglett AWOL on you. No chance. I am not that grown up. Yet. And probably never will be. The truth is, I have been awfully busy doing stuff.  Here’s a rundown of the more exciting stuff (I mean who cares if I scrubbed my house from top to bottom last night).

1.    A solo roadtrip from Cape Town to Zimbabwe

A hairbrained scheme that started with taking Christmas puddings and presents to my mum in Harare. After all, Christmas is about family and I hadn’t seen her, or Zimbabwe, for a while.  I ended up driving it. On my own. Well, for the most part. I was joined for some of it by one of my favourite old boyfriends. Apart from his incessant need to use GoogleMaps wherever possible instead of a good old-fashioned map book, he made an excellent butler and co-driver. Actually, I think he was quite long-suffering with all my demands and this was made evident by his blunt refusal in Botswana to make me cucumber sandwiches for tea. Colonial much? Me? Never!  I had to make do with peanuts and popcorn, but all in all it was an awesome trip that saw me drive 7 800km and had me fall even more in love with Africa. So much so that when I returned I was greeted with a “Look! It’s Mama Africa!”.  I am really hoping that name is not due to my rather large and very “African” rear end.

2.    Hands on Harvest in Robertson

My first “assignment” of the year, that involved wine, food, brandy, a Red Roman (long story), champagne-making, white hats and more wine. All for free! Again, I love my job. There was also a very posh guesthouse on a very old wine estate where the owner flirted with me unabashedly and I did the same back. Dancing Friend (who came with me on this little jaunt through the winelands) was quite amused with all of this and asked me quietly “Would you ever consider dating someone like him?” Having been a bachelorette practically forever, I was a bit taken aback with this question, mostly because no-one has ever actually suggested I “date” someone.  My immediate answer was “No. There is just no way one can shout out the name Willie in the throes of passion without bursting out laughing.” So that was the end of that. Pity about the name though, he’s worth a fortune and the farm is quite beautiful. He's not bad looking either. Which brings me to the next subject. The eagerly-awaited….

3.    Man-list

To be honest, I am not quite sure why so many people are interested in reading what I require from any suitor. Men just aren’t that interested in me. It’s true…  I have loads of male friends, some of whom I fancy like mad, but no-one actually wants ME. You would think they would, after all I am loads of fun and not one of those clingy girls that hates it when her man goes out with the lads. But perhaps that is what it is right there. Not clingy. Not needy. Men like to be needed. Well here’s the first thing on my man-list, blokes … I don’t actually NEED you. WANT you, yes. But I digress. I do actually have a sort-of man-list taped onto my fridge. It states what I want from you (being you, man) and will form the basis of this man-list that will apparently change my life. So far not so good though. The basic one on the fridge has scared every man right out of my life. And that’s just the male friends.

4.    Preparing for my early retirement or more likely, retrenchment

When I got back to the place of my permanent employment we got all sorts of emails from our Chairman saying that we may be taken over by another company (read, lose jobs), along with no salary increases. Yikes, times are tough, but that makes it three years in a row with no salary increase for me. Which is mad. I can barely afford to put fuel in my car to get to work (like everyone else) and moreover, it’s putting strain on my tequila drinking budget. But lack of cash and fear of unemployment also makes one resourceful. I wouldn’t be much good at standing on the street (if I can’t get a normal date, how on earth would I get someone to PAY to shag me) and I have too short a temper to be a waitress, so I had to get creative. So I built my own website showcasing my photography, which launched the other day. It looks very snazzy (I think) and it’s all rather exciting. Except the phone hasn’t rung and the mailbox is empty. Ok, perhaps expecting to be able to retire within 2 days of launching your website is a bit ambitious. But here’s hoping…

All those things, along with various dinners, braai’s, gigs etc. have kept me busy for months. Not to mention that I write for a living as well. Amazing how time flies. But the good news is that I am back. I had forgotten how much fun all this warbling can be. And you know how I love to warble! I have all sorts of interesting topics to soapbox about, including:

• Why are women so smart in the workplace, but so stupid when it comes to men - this includes me.
• Why you should be recycling - and avoiding cling wrap like the plague.
• Why are people still insisting on breeding - especially as they then spend the rest of their lives complaining about their offspring.
• How to avoid hipsters and how to spot one - here's a clue, &Union.
• Why there is no such thing as a free drink - I was reminded the other day that I owe a friend drinks from when he bought me drinks three years ago.
• Seven dates in seven days – this will of course be AFTER I have published the man-list. Lads are going to be queuing at the door dying to show me how they could be the perfect man for me. Not. Ah, the challenge…

See you again soon.!

Ps. Speaking of which, what HAS happened to Baglett? I miss her. Perhaps I should just attempt to replace her? I wonder if she got free drinks and food and stuff. I shall have to find out…