03.08.2012 Meaty Beaty big and Bouncy (the Who)

so i think of myself as a rockin’ roll star that shnarfs heaps of blow, has loads of unprotected sex and can play air guitar like a raging mick jagger, but stick me in leather chaps, a cowboy hat, and holster me with a Smith and Wesson to face off with Clint Eastwood and ill run for the bosom of Heidi.

the dawn of Comrades had barely faded, my disappointment still sat in the in-tray of my years performance, and me and the Nerwiches were tripping billies back to King Shaka in our Chevrolay for the early eve jet-plane ride back to Jozi.

As the clouds cotton-balled over head, dauntingly grey, i pondered as i stared through the dusty window what it would be like to fly in blustery weather. But then the good Lord decided to rather put the fear of the roman legionaries into me by having a giant black Jeep unlicenced terrorising us en route to the airport.

Craig’s eyes growing large, rebounded off the rear view mirror, slapping me in the face as a busty blond in a red speedo. his calmness sturdy, his reaction slight. Radio silence.
 My head swivelled, staring back at the looming spirit behind us, at the charcoal asteroid hurtling towards our vehicle.

Darth Vader’s Death Star lurked, snarling to tear at us with its vicious stance, its grill gaping to swallow us. It’s tinted windows and blackened eyeliner, its drool a tracer line on the heated tar...
as i stared in astonishment at the aggression of the agressor, and as my physical wrestled my thoughts to the ground,  i pulled my loaded hand from my pockets, the back of my hand facing the deluge.. and gently raised my middle digit, extending it like a teen in a strip joint.

that was me triggering the red 'don’t push button'.

As the red overwhelmed the white of the eyes of our nemesis, Craig was forced to lassoo our jam jar and steer us clear of the bucking black stallion. As the enemy continued throwing the weight of his ride towards us, trying to rat us off the road, the throbbing veins bursting out of his forehead as an under pressure testicle, he left us in a dust trail. There is relief and Dani had calmed down to a panic.

OH Em Gee, it wasn’t over, the ripple of the earthquake had now sent a tsunami in its wake.
having thought we were safe, this pacman wanted my biscuit and no ghost was gonna stop him. Cutting through the traffic, splicing its DNA, the Blackness moved in cartisian motions, seeking us as a tracer bullet, eventually coming to a standstill, anchoring his behemoth behind us hissing for blood. my blood.

Stapled to our seats, looking forward. We were uncharged androids.

The roller coaster had just reached its pinnacle.

His door opens as a vacuum-packed meatloaf, steam swirling and out emerges this muscle man looking like a condom full of walnuts. He motions for our window. With his super reflective mirror shades, a disco ball of the ‘80’s, forearms like rolling pins and fists the size of fully grown pineapples he blurts in a foreign accent (probably from the Freestate). "you gave me ve sign, i hav witness'. I squeek back, 'i dont know what you're talking about, bru'. the bile now sharing space with my apple. 'if you pull signs like that you'll die soon.' And there i was, moments from a fast food knuckle sandwich, a side order of fright and soiled undies.

the two fighters separated, and so did Dani and Craig from me. I was in international fly space and no one was gona find me. My heart settled as a i sipped on a Fanta Grape, my happy place.

all this trauma because i judged a girl i was to be set up with by her Facebook profile pic.