You ca choose your friends, but not your family...it sometimes should be the other way round!

My sisters wedding celebration on Friday night was like a scene from the Blair Witch Project, deer in the headlight in-laws, whispers of conversation, Dad's new GF being possessive about him and his pad, Mum nervously making the best of out of the situation (dealing with Dad's new GF, not the wedding), stilted speech's, and me in the middle passing around booze attempting to lubricate a positive atmosphere. In the end, my sis became a respectable woman, and she is happy, that’s the bottom line isn’t it?

Saturday, was spend driving to the Prawn Shack to celebrate a mate Bulls Party, what a ho down, I tell ya'! In some instances I wish that you can choose not to be mates with some of your wild ass drunk, funneling friends. If you ever have a chance to go to the Prawn Shack on the KZn North Coast, do it, the food is mind-blowing, so was the chili come to think of it, blew my ass off! I was way to drunk to wax lyrical about the individual flavors, but it was good. They also had these shrimp tequilas, where you pour some Tequila into a shot glass, catch a shrimp from a tank filled with swimming shrimp, throw it in your tequila and BOMBS AWAY! I had an overwhelming drunk urge to save the poor shrimp, so I tried to steal the net used to catch the shrimp, thinking that the buggers will have more of fighting chance if a boozed up hand was trying to catch em, rather than a huge net. Eventually the net was beaten off me, and then I thought about stealing the tank and releasing the little guys, eventually I ate them...

I danced late into the night, drank enough for a rugby team (Afrikaans one nog al...), spoke loads of bollocks, and acted like a right idiot. That’s the recipe for a bull’s party, isn’t it?

The long drive home the next day was not cool, damn my eyes.

What a topsy turvy weekend.

S.