Old MacDonald HAS a shotgun!

Figure 1. Escape is futile!

The khaki-brigade have summoned my services away from my social networking accounts and my innumerable chat applications to actually do some “real work” this Friday. This “real work” involves driving to the middle of the Free State and setting up notices for potential mine sites. Not very greenpeace at all!

Figure 2. New-age farmer weaponry

Not the worst thing in the world I hear you say… No, probably not if I wasn’t setting up notices at their entrance gates informing them that they are about to have a uranium mine across the middle of their prized organic pumpkin patch or straight through their prized layers chicken coop. To further complicate the issue, I speak zero to not-a-word of Afrikaans (apart from some un-mentionally homosexual sayings that go hand-in-hand with some pelvic thrusting motioning; that I doubt would go down too well whilst trying to diffuse a raging vrystaat farmer). And the cherry on top is that such activities occur in and amongst the dreaded nature! *Gasp*. Now I’m not sure what exactly I am more afraid of: Gun-yielding, foreign-language-shouting, khaki-wearing, bakkie-driving farmers or the outrageously-hot-sun, potential skin cancer risk, sweating, melting of hair products, allergies to everything that isn’t made of concrete or metal, attack by killer-bees, flash flooding, raging bulls in musk, cow poop, potential dehydration, starvation, lack of cellphone signal, no internet browsing capabilities… in general: N.A.T.U.R.E.

So come Friday, I shall arise at crack of dawn, tear myself out of my warm and cosy bed and pop down to the office before 6am! Epically unimpressed. And now I have to scrounge round my cupboard to find the shunned clothing shelf where I keep all my “nature clothes”. I feel violated just having to touch them let alone put the blasted things on… My over-sized steel-toed lesbian hiking boots will be dusted off. My heinously unshapely jean-panta will be pulled-on. My old and un-flattering T-shirt in a colour that is in fact a sin to wear let alone make into a piece of apparel shall be donned! And finally. The sacrilege to end all fashion faux-pas shall be undertaken... I will abandon any use of my hair straightener and place a CAP on my head. Yes, a CAP! I’m crying inside a little lot right now…

Does anyone know where to buy bullet proof vests that come in Prada? Anyone… please….??

On the party front: let’s just say I live a very VERY very wild lifestyle! Done some epic extravaganzas and pillaged some public holidays! In fact, I managed to score two new shake-n-bakes in one night! Slore-galore! BAM! I didn’t even know my own name let alone where in the name of all things Stroh Rum & Tequila I was at any one time that night! Lucky for me, I had my housemate keeping an eye on me so she could laugh and point at me the next day! We shall refrain from divulging her newly acquired case of gingervitis with her gingah-ninjah shake-n-bake…

There is now a new Spamoni for me at the moment. And yes, he is the only one. He is opposite to my normal type of spamoni. We shall see where this goes. Had lots more dates with him and am rather smitten (yes, I said it!). Also stayed over at his house for some cheeky McLovin recently!

BAM!

PS: This weekend promises to yield some exciting and unusual stories! Keep your eyes posted for an update!