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!
“I’ve got The Pink Panther” on DVD, are you coming to watch it with me?”
“What?” scoffed Mel. “And watch Beyonce shaking her ass? I don’t think so.”
“Okay, I’ll watch it by myself then…”
And thus began my first recent evening without the joy of football and the comfort of beer.
I`ve just been on the road for a whole 6 and a half hours on Blue Arrow from H-town to Skies for a mate`s wedding. I decided about halfway down the road to compile this rough little “Bachelor`s List Of Things To Do On a Blue Arrow Coach From H To Skies” out of sheer boredom and, you know, cigarette craving. So here goes…
Isn’t life wonderful? The World Cup, in all it’s multi-coloured madness and two-footed trickery, is in full swing. And I’m glad to say I haven’t missed a game yet, thanks in part to the TV I have in my office!
Well, I can’t say I’ve been disappointed by the perfomance of the African nations so far (considering it IS the World Cup). I’ll just say this: they may be enthusiastic, but they sure lack a lot in skill and technique.
So the FIFA World Cup 2006 is here. Yippee – one month of football, international football too. I know this is the month where the wives tend to forget their hubbies’ faces, but thanks to the magic of ZTV Sportnet, most of the country’s menfolk will be hard pressed to find an excuse to leave the cabin for those 9pm matches!
One of Trevor’s friends threw a party on Saturday night. Now’s it’s been a while since I been to the JV, so I was keen to see what it’s like nowadays. And I was thirsty.
I’ve tried. I’ve done the whole legitimate thing, I’ve tried nine-to-fiving, watching DVDs, being faithful, learning to cook, that whole decent thing. And it ain’t my style. So…I’m getting my dreadlocks back.
Holy shit, Batman, it’s time to improvise. Why, you ask? I’ll give you why, dammit. Because the price of beer at the Scud & Nanny has hit $270,000-00, that’s why.
Strange thing about some bars: you can go there one day with one party, and have a pretty ordinary time. Go there another time, with a different team of players, and have a really good laugh. It helps if the bar’s name is something as ridiculously weird as “Billy Fudpucker’s”, which is Elvish for “I don’t know what to call my pub, and Tiperrary’s is taken”.