So, Trevor is off to South Africa tonight. Well, if Air Zimbabwe don’t do their thing. Yes, that delay and cancel thing that they do so well so often. I digress. There goes another Zimbabwean, off to the Big Bad Diaspora In Search of the Almighty…uhm…Rand.
So I’ve borne witness to many clangers and howlers in my recent past, but as blonde moments go, this one takes some beating. So during the Spain vs Ukraine game, my white blonde female roommate asks me in all earnestness : ‘Why isn’t Beckham playing for Spain?’
As an ongoing community service, I’ll be writing an occassional “10 Things” list to help other bachelors out there with commonplace situations. You may find yourself in these situations one day, so let me try and help with a few insights and tips, that at face value may appear common-sense, but trust me, we can ignore them. And make bad decisions.
The bloody FIFA World Cup. Flags, floosies, footballs and, of course, flops. Yep, it’s finally over, a whole month of joy and pain and hangovers and missed expectations and beers and hugs and late nights and hangovers again. And bloody Portugal are STILL surrender monkeys who couldn’t beat a cheating housewife, let alone the French national team.
Alright, geezers, what did you get up to this past weekend? I, shockingly, was taken clubbing by me mates at Mambo on Friday night, which perfectly set me up for the braai on Saturday, which was excellent, and the football, which was freekin wonderful!