So I woke up Saturday with another massive whisky hangover (courtesy, again, of Utano) and in dire need of burnt meat.
I don’t know what it is about dehydration and salty meat … all I remember is without boerewors I was gonna be a fucking dead man.
So I trundled down to Golden Stairs garage, hollered at the metalworkers displaying their wares and picked out a braai-stand. Called one or two chaps to come over and watch the rugby, bought myself some sausages and tjops … and whisky, then went home.
Next thing I knew it was 8pm and my car-park was full, fire was blazing and nyayas were flying.
Now all I need’s a generator and I’m never leaving the house …
Good times, good times.