Why I should be my own little reality show!

Figure 1. Definitely NOT Little Goldfish when confronted with nature - but still uber hilAArious! [substitute "stick" with "alcohol" and that's ME!]

What a weekend. BAM!

It all starts on Friday night. Not really that keen to go out. Watched New Moon. OMf-ingG. Jacob’s Abs!!!! I jizzed in my pants… twice! (ok, maybe a few more times during the movie – hehe). Still playing for Team Edward – I’ll have the sparkleyness, money and Volvos over the body anyday. Some things money $$$$$ can buy. And I’m one of them! :P

So after the sparkliness – me and two of my favouritest girls in the world went out to Billy the Bums. Ah, billy the bums. Trashy. Drunken. Out-of-proportion. Loves it! At such a place of “elegantly wasted” behaviour – and NOTE: I use the word elegantly very loosely... – we met some spumoni. One of the ladies lunged ravaged the tall hott one. The remaining one was a plumber (but not. He was actually an engaged lawyer pretending to be a plumber. WTF) and damn, he could have used his dutchiness to clean my pipes anyday! Following this, we dragged them off to Risque. Risqy, a place of such classlessness and debauchery that one enters the realms of illegal and illicit behaviour as never seen before upon entering such a flamboyantly homosexual establishment. Yes, the straight men came to Risqy. Wigga Please! Haha.

I was just not in the mood to score anyone on Friday night. I know! Since when am I not prepared to whore myself across the dancefloor looser than a lubricated nut-and-bolt!?!? Not on Slore form! Anyways, I was attracting more attention than a bucket of chum in Camps Bay. There were a few mingers then a hottie or three. One of the hotties was super queen. His name and surname meant – Moon of Fire. Afrikaans ppl I tell u. No clue on societal suicide. Plus, if u name yr kid moon of fire how can u not expect them to come out as a raging homosexual…!?! Anyways, he was into me. And me mildly into him. He had a tattoo. On his abdomen (not very toned abdomen though – but he was thin and THIN IS ALWAYS IN!). It was a panther – a large, violent, muscled, black panther crawling up his abdomen…. The kind of tattoo one expects on a steroid-junkie, shrunken penis, vein-popping beefcake one views in the gym whilst bench pressing the weight of a small house. NOT on some uber thin, moisturized, manliner-wearing princess. Anyways, I had the attention span of a goldfish on crack so was not giving him much time really. Besides, there is only room for one Royal in my life and hell yeah I’m the mother fucking princess. Now pass my pink bedazzled tiara back bitch! BAM!

Saturday swung round in all it’s headachey, dehydrated glory and after a day of shopping at sandton – I bought shoes! They’re hott rite now! – we went off to a pAArty in Benoni. The pAArty was cool – everyone there were spaminis (ie: Spamonis of the matric age). The dude who’s 18^th it was is so cool. He’s off to Rhodes. A future rhodent. My heart glows in Pride. Unfortunately, at the pAArty were some real low class, wrong-side of 1994, caravan-owning, banjo-playing winners. Eugh, ppl like that irritate me with their idiocy and crassness.

On return (at 11pm) I decided to join some of my fellow goldfish out at risqy. Just for one drink… yes, I again convinced myself I could have “just one drink and a dance” when out. I didn’t want to be too tired before going into nature the next day. The night ended up a fail so epic it was a win! Haha. I scored a goldfish I have known since feb. He’s cute and I like him. (ya, Sunday goldfish is still smsing me – but he bores me and is in the South… we’ll keep him round as back-up in case new goldfish fails…) This new goldfish is portuguese – yay, an english name even! It’s about bloody time. He’s an accountant too – KA-CHING!!!! Trophy husband position here I come. I’m so good at housekeeping and shopping I’d make a perfect trophy husband. Plus, I’m pretty!!!! J He’s been SMSing all weekend. YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I return home at 3.30am. drunk – surprise there! 2.5hrs later my bloody alarm goes off. Fuck. Time to pack bag and leave for the bush. Nature – aaaaaaahhhhhh….. I stumbled around and threw clothes into my bag (for one night’s stay I ended up with two bags. Only after 5 packing attempts I ended up with one big kit bag. I had more luggage than the entire bus of 10 ppl in the end… One can never have enough t-shirts or shoes. I dunno what I’ll decide to wear the next day. And what if something gets wet or dirty, always take at least two spare items!) So I arrive at some ungodly hour like 8am at the office. Still drunk. Carrying a packet of crisps and a vitamin water. Haven’t eaten. Waves of nausea. Hangover sweat in full force. Everyone’s so cheery and excited. Someone put me down… for the love of god! After 5 hours driving we arrived in a little slice of hell. Mpumalanga – so humid and filled with bugs and dirt and dust. There was no fan that night so I got NO sleep.

Now the day of real hands-on with nature. At 8h30 we arrive to do white water rafting. I applied suncream 3 times before this. Fat lot of good it did. My knees are lumo pink and my feet are a pinky-purple colour. Damn british skin! Well, off we go on the white water and me and my partner kicked ass. He fell out once though. Hehe. So I paddled off alone for a couple of rapids! I’m cheeky like that. Incompetence is not tolerated on my boat. Fail. We also swam in the river – it was THAT hot that I actually got in the water. I ended up with water up my nose and god only knows how many infections and water-borne parasites I have now contracted. Epic. Well, I rafted hard then quad-biked like a testosterone-fuelled-farmer and even played water rugby (full contact) with the unicellular beefcakes that I work with. Damn right I showed the boys I could play like a big-dog!!!!!! I feel they have new respect for me now. But that was faaaaaaar too much manliness and nature for me. I need a night of face masks, pink champers and The Devil Wears Prada to reset those Oestrogen levels! Haha.

Now back at work. Lame. Let’s get involved. I kinda feel the need to work a bit harder coz I may, just a teeney-tiny ickle bit, be starting to like these guys and this company.

BAM!

PS: The straight guy that I started having ‘relations’ and then kicked him out in the middle of it all coz he bored me just invited me to his birthday on sat… seriously… interesting. Am I going? I thought NO. Coz it’ll be weird and I won’t know anyone, but hey, it’s good to exit the comfort zone and make new friends! Besides, I can always leave early. So I will go and be mature and rock out with the straight/gay guy at his birthday. Haha. I love my scandalous life!!!!!

PPS: Oh, my allergies are raging. Post-nasal drip. Itchy nose. Red eyes. Mosquito bites. I hate nature.