What could ever possess someone to bet on something so ridiculously skewed as a football match between Arsenal and Barcelona? I mean, is our economy that bad for us to turn to gambling AGAINST ALL ODDS just to get by?
Once in a while, you can have that weekend which defies all odds, which, for some unknown reason, transcends all expectations. Sadly, this last one wasn’t like that.
So I’ve got a new look going as you’ve already seen. I like it, it’s got a kinda…rusty…feel to it that I find attractive. Of course, my opinions don’t mean shit so you, dear people, get to tell me what to do.
Simple, if you think the new is better than, say, the last, let me know. I value your opinions (to an extent) so, as the English say, is it the dog’s bollocks (good) or is it bollocks (bad)?
The standard of editorial efficiency at Zimbabwe’s publishing and broadcasting houses is, for lack of a better word, shit.
I love things. And judging by what HIFA showed, I’m not the only one. The people came out in droves: locals from all walks, regional tourists and even a couple of jazz-loving, brandy-swigging Ozzies.
Rockin times at the festival last night. We saw Antonio Forcione on the main stage, man, this dude rocks. Absolutely the best guitarist I’ve seen live, no doubt.
I’ve just been to see a HIFA show at the 7 Arts theatre. Not bad at all, though not my usual cup of tea/jug of beer.
Mel and I went to the Avondale flea mart to return a dodgy DVD she bought. Granted, buying anything from the AFM is a risk in itself, but in this case it was to replace someone else’s dodgy DVD that she broke.
Not only am I coming back as white, I’ve narrowed down the specifications to being blonde as well. As if further evidence was needed of…
Before I go any further, let me respond to any malicious allegations regarding the “mysterious” Kitkins, who caused quite a stir last week.
Life is a romantic comedy: it’s beautiful and always ends well.
So in my next life, I need to come back as a white woman.