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.