"But I don't want to go among mad people," said Alice. "Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad," replied The Mad Hatter. " But how do you know I'm mad?" cried Alice. "You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here."
ALICE:
The sweet poppet who felt confined in this world of politics, arranged marriages and lady like behaviour decided to follow a little white rabbit with a waist coat and accidentally fell down a hole! Well, what people don’t know about Alice is that she is a horny little fuck! And falling into that hole has done nothing but set her free in the land of dreams, where she can gallivant around butt-naked, tits out and hormones racing! Now, in this Wonderland of vodka flowing rivers that glisten like disco balls and topsy-turvey flowers that enchant you with their smiles, this blonde bomb shell is out to play, and play she will! Although she has the tendency to be horribly vulgar and quite sultry at the same time- she’s a load of fun and will probably get your blood pumping, in all the right places!
THE QUEEN OF HEARTS:
The Queen of Hearts is a bitch. Her title most ironic. The Queen has anything but a heart (nor a brain for that matter). In its place lies a chamber full of hate and anger, pumping rage through her every being, her body feeding off other peoples misery and misfortunes. The Queen of Hearts, unable to see others pain through her own vanity, has no remorse or guilt. She is brutally honest and delivers it as it is. No matter how grotesque or unwanted the news might be. Through all of this, however, the Queen has an attractiveness about her. Like a spell it draws you in. Even with her arrogance, vulgarity, and plain right rudeness, one cannot help but to like her. Slowly you get sucked in and before you know it you too are one of her cards, her minions, laughing at her insults and joining in the name-game. Her hilarious outlook on life and inability to hold back on anything draws you to the dark side in one swift swing of the club
THE MAD HATTER:
You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.
Monday night was the Varsity Cup Final, and what a night it was. There is not much that I can say about the game, nor the majority of the night for that matter (as the flashbacks of random images and my lack of memories come to a sub-total of about an hour), but my continuos gagging the next day and the fact that I came home with only one shoe at 8 in the morning is proof enough that I had a spectacular time...
What I do know is that quite a few of my Cape Town mates came up to stay, and of course, none of us had planned ahead and bought tickets. We wern’t perturbed and we decided to go watch the game on the mountain. Unfortunately we got carried away with the pre-drinking and so only arrived just before half-time. The mountain was packed, and unlike the suckers in the stadium who could not take their own drinks in; we could all go wild, drink as much as our little hearts desired, and act like the true 3rd world Africans that we are. What a vibe!
From here it became a blur. Weeing in bushes, standing in thorns that gave me an allergic reaction resembling something out of Gremlin, running through sticks and tripping over tree stumps (fucking our legs up) in order to see the other half of the field every time Maties got the ball, and people running onto the field when Maties won is the sub-total of my rugby experience.
From here, apparently we went out, smoked a joint with The Engineer, and then I went to bed. Or so the Queen thought, until 10 minutes after she had tucked me in, she found me wandering down the street. Alone. How I got from my bed to the street, faster than her who was in the car, is still a mystery. She picked me up, only to throw me out 5 minutes later as I screamed to be released because I had seen someone I was sure I knew.
Apparently I was actually telling the truth because the next day I woke up snuggled up in a double bed with 4 other boys, and 5 boys on the floor, in a flat that I had never seen before. In my confusion I did what I could - rolled over, put my arm around the boy closest to me, and snuggled up.
Three runs to the toilet, four hours, and six coffees later I woke up on my friends couch in a flat much closer to my own. Covered in writing, a rip down my dress, bagless, and shoeless I sat up with a smile and congratulated myself on once again crossing the line, getting way to drunk, and having yet another phenomenal night!
Last year the Bloody Beetroots rocked the shit out of the Assembly. This year Assembly is gracing us with the presence of the 'Japanese American', Steve Aoki. Prepare to get crunk and sweat like a peodo in a playground, this Friday is going to be mental!
Fucking test on Friday! Why the hell do universities find it entertaining to hold tests on a Friday night?? I know lecturers have nothing better to do than sit at home and jerk off to Asian child porn, but god dammit, I have way better things to do than sit at a crappy desk and write a two hour long test while watching the clock and swearing at the seconds that seem to go by so fucking slowly. 8pm on a Friday is normally reserved for getting motherless or having sex. I actually think that it literately messed up my internal clock-work. My poor body couldn’t understand why I wasn’t bloated with brandy and coke, stumbling into objects or riding my big boy.
What seemed like 15 years finally went by... then it was off to Langabaan!!!!! After gathering my already drunk boyfriend and making a quick stop at the DJs house, to pick him and his bitch up. I sailed through to the “soutie” equivalent of Hermanus, for Boers at 160km/h and made it to the “Playboy Palace” at 11. WAS SO AMPED TO GET DRUNK... so I did, and fucking quickly... the night proceeded as it usually does, with people getting naked and running around like 8 year olds whom forgot their Ritalin. Before I knew it, I found myself getting involved in a 4 sum. Couple on couple babay! - I blame it on Drosty-Hof semi sweet.
After the boys gave us a show, which included ‘the windmill,’ man-Gina’s and “fruit bowls”, it was the ladies turn to get nasty...Now what one should understand is that multiple sex partners at once is not a common happening for me, so when the idea arose, I was a little shocked..., ok I was so shocked that my eyeballs were starting to lose moisture from being so wide open and my jaw almost clicked out of place as I gasped...
I tried to argue, I tried to leave the room, I TRIED TO DRINK MORE SO THE IDEA WOULD SEEM APPEALING.... but it was just so hard!- and I’m not just talking about the rods on the fellows... I had to sit down and think.... like I even had a fucking chance to do that! Next thing I know, the naked girl is massaging my back, the Pink boy is stroking my thighs and my human dildo is spanking my ass. I was in the middle of a full blown orgy!
Ok you shit! Don’t fall off your damn chairs- it didn’t last long, the eye contact between the boys started getting too much to handle so we decided to call it a night (at 6am Saturday morning) and go back to our own lovely rooms and get down and dirty (couple’s only), which we damn right did. Bliss! Was decently hammered by now so my only guess is that I passed out somewhere in the middle of it... woke up with a smile on my face later that day and made my way to the communal lounge- where I received a *wink* and a “hey, hey” from the chick and the Pink.
The day continued as we made our way to ‘Lagoonfees’ where we scored free V.I.P tickets and again- got fucked. You know how people think they are invincible when they are pissed? Well, we were all pissed- again. So what do we do?? Shoot each other fucked up in a hardcore paintball game!!! (The feeling of the shot does catch up to a person sooner or later) Right about now I was feeling like tough shit ‘Tomb Rader’ with my sexy ‘gas mask’ helmet and hobo overalls. EPIC! We drank more, went on some carnival rides and danced to a few local bands playing in the distance, then made our way back to the Playboy Palace. Still drunk and still Horney... some of the house mates got into a bit of a disagreement: the Pink and the “Wyn- Maaker”- till someone got voted off the island... at this point I pretty much blanked out. I remember tequila, “spring-bokkies” and yet again more naked people. Great success.
Sunday came and alcohol was still dancing around in my system- before leaving, we gambled a bit at Mykonos casino, some lost, some won, some got ‘ge-suip’ in the bar. But all in all FUN! It was sad to watch the sun set as we drove away from our little drunken paradise, but nothing a Wimpy cheese burger can’t cure. So that was that, another wonderful weekend, I don’t care about the test I had on Friday anymore because as I sit in class on Monday, I imagine my lecturers over masturbated, raw dick and all the different sharp places he can go shove it. I had an awesome time, regardless.
Time is moving faster and faster, the world is spiralling out of control, and our younger generation is getting sluttier as they grow up too fast and act way beyond their years. The ages of 14-20 have disappeared as girls move straight from 13 to 21 years old, ditching their morals and picking up stilettos, cigarettes, and a host of STD's instead.
It is not these girls fault, nor their parents, but society that allows it to happen as it caresses and nurtures immoral and unlawful behaviour. I am not complaining about this because it has happened to the best of us, I am merely pondering the thought of how this all began.
The reason for these random thoughts is because last week I got back to my roots. I re-visited my childhood personality and acted completely immature and childish – the result, a fucking fantastic time. The Queen and I act very immature at the best of times, but on Thursday, Stockie (one of my best friends from Cape Town) came up to stay for the night, and shit went overboard. What began as a very mature chat about relationships and the like, ended in an extreme sugar high off of these German sweets which were more effective than Ecstasy.
With this new found energy we decided to go wake the Hatter and beat the shit out of him – just for shits and giggles. While there we raided his fridge, finding nothing but a 2kg packet of tomatoes... We knew that The Engineer was hard at work, and so he was a perfect target. I mean, who better to annoy than a sexy man who works hard but is easily distracted??? Exactly! We gathered a few stones, mashed the tomatoes into pieces and got ready for operation Annihilation.
On the count of 3 we all started throwing stones at his window, waiting for him to pop his head out, while keeping our positions behind and against the walls. *Bam* Tomato in his face. *Bam* *Bam* *Bam* Tomatoes in his window, on his window and a loan ranger that had flown to the floor above. *Bam* *Bam* *Bam* *Bam* *Bam*
We thought that we had won, as he had run away. Well boy were we wrong. He was not hiding but gathering ammunition. First he hit me with a squash. Now at a speed, let me tell you, a squash feels like a rock, and it basically knocked the wind out of me. Then he got us on the stairs. As we ran up to our flat for cover, the Queen could not get the fucking door unlocked!! We were cornered and so we did what we could – huddle in the door frame and scream for help. He showed no mercy and pounded the tomatoes into our hair, our bodies and our door. I screamed and I screamed while The Queen and Stockie both pissed them selves from fear and excitement. Class!
The next day Stockie, The Engineer, and myself, gathered at the downstairs table to discuss the previous nights events. While laughing, once again, to the thought of Stockie and The Queen pissing themselves, I felt a plop on my head. An avo peel. Nice. It was on!!! This time bigger and better than ever before. Other people joined in and before I knew it, it was World War 2 all over again.
There were peaches, avos, green peppers, sweet melon, and eggs flying from one side of the block to the other. As I ran for cover in my room an egg flew by me, grazing my head and bursting on the wall in front of me. The Queen and The Engineer got me in a hold, The Engineer mashing peach in my face as The Queen stuffed tomato down my G-String.
This continued for an hour, until we all collapsed, exhausted. Although our favourite clothes were completely stained, our hair was sticky, there was sweet melon dripping from the ceiling, splattered egg all over our front door, 3 broken glasses, peach mashed into our front door lock, and splatters of food all over the inside and outside of our flat, we could not stop smiling. Because although we knew that we would have to spend the rest of our Friday afternoon cleaning, we had had more fun than we could have ever imagined, and none of us had pissed ourselves – a positive in anyone’s books.
I was introduced to this series just yesterday and I’m already hooked. I'd categorize it Class A. I just finished the first season. In a nut shell Californication is about a shallow, middle aged writer, Hank Moody, who is going through a mid life crisis. He struggles to juggle his career, his relationship with his daughter and his ex-girlfriend, and pretty much fucks anything that walks.
Hank Moody: [to Meredith] Now you're giving me that look, right now, look like I fingerbanged your cat.
Radio Show Host: What's your latest obsession? Hank Moody: Just the fact that people seem to be getting dumber and dumber. You know, I mean we have all this amazing technology and yet computers have turned into basically four figure wank machines. The internet was supposed to set us free, democratize us, but all it's really given us is Howard Dean's aborted candidacy and 24 hour a day access to kiddie porn. People... they don't write anymore, they blog. Instead of talking, they text, no punctuation, no grammar: LOL this and LMFAO that. You know, it just seems to me it's just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people at a proto-language that resembles more what cavemen used to speak than the King's English. Radio Show Host: Yet you're part of the problem, I mean you're out there blogging with the best of them. Hank Moody: Hence my self-loathing.
I’m so god damn sick and tired of stupid bitches who obsess over sexually frustrated cute boys!
Look, if you meet a dude, think he’s rad and mighty fine- rope him in! But don’t for a fuck let him hold the rains! Let me paint you a picture.... girl sees guy, guy sees girl... they fuck one drunken night, boy moves on, girl doesn’t, so in order to get him to notice you as more than a random hook up, you try and hang out. You go visit every now and then or he will come over (very friendly terms) you become good mates and talk about that one time u fucked then laugh it off just so he thinks you’re not latched. But all of a sudden you get dick slapped and you find yourself having a little crush.
So you start to flirt a little, he flirts back (because he likes the attention) but you think that he is totally into you. Then you hear he lunged some other bitch- you don’t have the right to be upset, but you secretly are, so you let it slide and think that it’s all your fault because you weren’t being obvious enough with your feelings towards him.
SHIT SAKES SON! Stop kidding yourself! He obviously knows you are into him!!!! Everyone can sense it when someone likes them. It’s completely obvious and not only to you but everyone around you too.
But dip shit slut can’t help herself and continues to like the doosher! How can she resist? The way he stretches his arms up, revealing a little stomach, the way he takes his shirt off cause its “hot” (in slow motion), or the way he makes sure there’s a button popped so as to ‘subtly’ show some chest fluff. The way he totally ‘gets’ you and can relate to your opinions and way of thinking. He’s perfect!.. NO sweetheart, he just wants to get laid!
Think about it, if you have already fucked and he can sense you like him then you are an easy picking- like an emo kid- All emotional and looking for comfort. Then maybe you think that he is playing hard to get because he won’t fuck you again- uh no! He just doesn’t want to fuck you because he doesn’t want you to think that he is interested- the dude is clearly loving the single life and wants to be able to get as much pussy as he possibly can, so why the fuck would he waste his time on being limited to one bitch when he can have many?
Facts are, if he liked you too he would take any opportunity he could find to cover those sugary lips in spit! And trust me you would make many opportunities available. But if it’s been a few months and you still orgasm at night to the thought of his large hands caressing your velvet skin-it’s time to move on... you have reached the friendship zone and can never escape.
Maybe you should try the “hard to get” card for a while- stop focussing all your attention on trying to make this boy yours, when you could be out there- a self efficient, confident chick with attitude and personality!... Who knows, maybe Mr Right might just dick slap you when you least expect it! But right now you are a timid toad on a leash with no self worth or sense of pride! Fuck off and watch porn! Cause unless you want to be like those whores and settle for casual fucks, you have to forget about this brother! Keeping him as a friend is awesome but just don’t let me catch you crying when you see him with another girl- or I will fanny slap the shit out of you!
Now I know this can start a fiery, heated argument among many girls, BUT if you are the one saying that no there is not, that the bigger the penis the greater the pleasure, then I’ve got news for you. You’re a slut. Your extreme looseness and agility makes it pretty easy entry and therefore allows for minimal friction – all in all a pretty pain free experience. Either that or you have never experienced a man of the extra large proportions. I know this because I’ve slept with them too and they all seem to have been on the lower spectrum of the size criteria.
You see it sounds all well and good to be super large but when push comes to shove it can be a pretty frightening experience. And I literally mean, when push comes to shove! I’m afraid it won’t just slide in little lady, even with your lovely lube. It will be rammed in with such force you will be convinced that it has just popped out of your mouth.
If you survive this shove do not breathe a sigh of relief just yet. It may seem to be going wonderfully for the first 5 minutes, but soon enough the friction will start. Friction not only causes a raw red vagina, but its more immediate effects are breakage, and breakage causes babies. Therefore ruining your life and shredding up every hope and dream you have ever had.
Secondly, large is restricting. Doggy becomes a whole difference experience all together. Especially if he is tall. You can’t both kneel and so he kneels while you wrap your legs around him and put your weight on your hands. It becomes less like doggy and more like a wheelbarrow race that you played when you were a kid. Him pounding into you while you try and ‘wheel’ away in pain. The mixture of pain and pleasure could be found very stimulating and erotic for those sick fucks who are into whips and shit, but for me, no thanks. I opt out.
Thirdly if he is too big, even riding him becomes an obstacle. Your beautiful cowboy boots and hat may find them selves in the corner for the next few months. Your cowgirl re-enactment becoming a thing of the past. You can’t sit down completely nor move around much because 1) ‘Big Boy’ feels like he has just inverted your diaphragm, and 2) your body feels like it is being supported by an extra spinal chord, this time however, by a more rigid one.
Now if you are on the smaller side of things I bet that you are grinning from ear to ear, believing that you REALLY are Gods gift to woman. Well calm down mother fucker, you aren’t supporting gems there either. It is a problem when the woman cant tell whether its 2 fingers or your dick. Fuck ‘It’s not size, it’s skill,’ if she can’t feel it you’re going nowhere. On the off chance that she does feel anything at all it may just be the sensation of something dancing around inside her, a game of pinball perhaps. And let me tell you, no one is turned on by a pinball machine.
While Alice was home shaving her gwat, and the Mad Hatter was taking a wank. I was out in the beautiful city of Cape Town! Walking down the Long Street of legends, I caught myself gazing around and thinking, fuck! I love this city! What with its well preserved, ancient architecture and its bustling friendly locals I can’t help but get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach- probably a withdrawal symptom, I hadn’t had a drink since 3pm so it was time to hit Neighbourhood! After a few shots, a lil bit of lovin’ at a corner table, and making friends with a green-eyed brother named KB... We were ready to get this show on the road and make our way down to the quaint Irish pub “The Dubliner” – live band swinging, drafts flowing, and 50 amazingly, beautiful Argentineans visiting for a rugby tour! I was in heaven, and “jizzing” all over myself.With beer in hand, cigarette dropping from the corner of my mouth as I try to sing along to “Save Tonight,” I truly felt the Irish fever. After dancing my ass off and getting felt up by a guy wearing a blonde wig, spandex and fake tits (bigger than mine) we decided to call it a night and head home. Before I could make it to my car though, “Cape to Cuba” caught my eye, where I enjoyed their ‘after 1am special on Mojito’s’ *clap, clap*! Surrounded by book shelves, ornaments, and a sculpture of an old man who kept staring at me, the setting was perfect... Perfect for some raunchy behaviour! All the horny feelings that comes with drinking, combined with the heavy petting, soon got too much to handle, so we simply had to race home and put the fire out that was inside me- with his hose!
Great drinks, great music, great people, great sex = great night!
I’m feeling rather torn today. A mixture between excitement and suicidal I’d call it. You see my friend, today I leave my beloved mother city and venture back into the zoo.
Now going back - I am excited for! The Bosch although compact, is densely populated with legendary people. People I have come to miss in this week of separation. Our holiday has ended and we once again can be re-united in this immoral yet wonderful land.
We can also regain our freedom – no more parents, no more arguments, and no more guilt trips. We can return to being the selfish mother fuckers that we are and worry about that only important person on the planet – oneself. You can come and go as you please, spend your money as you please, make noise when you please, miss class when you please. The world is your oyster and my god is it rich with beautiful options and pearls of opportunity!
This wonderful picture however, is tainted by a large looming cloud. Actually not a cloud. Clouds! Plural. My suicidal thoughts have not been spurred on by one thought but by many.
Firstly, I must remove myself from the holiday spirit and pick up a pen again. I must get out my book-bag, pack away my stilettos, and get used to 1ply toilet paper again. Christ. Now u may be thinking, “Fuck me, she was only on holiday for a week!?” But pal, let me tell you, it was the longest week of my life and a much needed one at that.
This first shock is followed quickly by another - dear mother of fuck, lectures start tomorrow!!! Now I’m not exactly acing on the attendance side of things; but the thought, the consideration even of attending that fucking class, sends shivers down my spine and conjures the taste of vomit in my mouth. Firstly, I don’t understand one fucking word that the bitch is saying. Is it so much to ask for an English class??? How am I, or any poor English soul, expected to pay attention? Although come to think of it, the class is so shit boring I wouldn’t listen anyway. I can honestly say that I would rather shove my face into my roommates shit than attend my classes tomorrow. And I hate shit. Shit and anything to do with shit. Baby, if you ever suggest anal or anal beads, I WILL vomit on your face.
Anyway, next is the weather. It could quite possibly be the worst climate ON THE PLANET!!! In summer it’s so fucking hot you can barely walk, the thought of venturing onto campus makes ones body go into epileptic shock. The worst part is, while their body is going into a fit, the wind is pumping so hard you can’t even hear the poor soul cry for help!
Then there’s winter. In winter it is freeeeezing, and it rains and rains and rains. Even if I wanted to go to class it just isn’t humanely possibly. 1) I could take an umbrella, but that gets ripped to shreds in minutes by the consistent god-awful wind. 2) I could wear a rain coat. Now for me, that could work. Although I don’t own one and am too fucking broke to even consider the purchase, but for the majority of Stellenbosch University it just isn’t an option. You see Poppies beautifully straightened hair would get ruined, and if not the hair, the make up would run. 3) I could take a car. If I drove to campus then I wouldn’t have to walk in the rain. Well dear naive fucker, you will be driving round for days looking for that parking space. After working up R1400 in parking fines in 3 months I quickly discovered that Stellies are unbelievably stingy with their parking space and DO NOT compromise with letting one park on the pavement. Fucking assholes.
Other than these few minor problems, however, a term of euphoria and yet again excessive drinking is set up for us. And of course, another Maties Varsity Cup victory...
Alice xxx
Friday, March 19
Narrator: Tyler, what the fuck is going on here?
Tyler Durden: I ask you for one thing, one simple thing.
Narrator: Why do people think that I'm you? Answer me!
Tyler Durden: Sit.
Narrator: Now answer me, why do people think that I'm you.
Tyler Durden: I think you know.
Narrator: No, I don't.
Tyler Durden: Yes, you do. Why would anyone possibly confuse you with me?
That’s right boys and girls. The time has come for the Maties (Stellenbosch) vs. Ikeys (UCT) Varsity Cup rugby game. Oh how we have waited for this!
It all started on a hot – VERY fucking hot – Monday morning. Now I’m not talking about that pussy hot that you’re used to where it’s just a mere ray on your pasty skin. I’m talking about mother hot where u can’t breathe. Where if u had to stand in the sun for one more than one minute you would be hospitalised with a 3rd degree burn. The kind of heat whereupon on walking up one flight of stairs you are sweating like a blind lesbian in a fish shop... We don’t pussy foot around here. THIS. IS STELLENBOSCH!!!
None-the-less, slowly but surely, the Maties of Matieland rose with smiles on their faces, threw on their Matie tops and started to get ready for the night of mayhem and madness that lay ahead. While some suck-up fuckers wormed their way to lectures, the rest of us fanned out in our rooms, frolicked in the splash pools, and stocked up on the liquor.
As the evening approached the town started to buzz with excitement. Us Maties were especially keen as there was not a doubt in our mind that we would end up victorious. I mean why wouldn’t we? We did win last year, and our team isn’t comprised of a bunch of pansies. It’s an easy guess. So with much vigour and swagger we made our way to the stadium. It was packed! Maroon out numbering blue 20 to 1 – a beautiful site. We got our seats, slandered the other team, and let the booze start flowing.
The game started with a bang. But not before the Ikeys were welcomed with a phenomenal boo. I have to admit, we were rather taken aback by the size of them. They were huge! I mean weren’t we supposed to be the big, boere farm boys? We put it down to massively overweight due to all the chemically modified, inorganic food that they ate and the fact that they don’t get enough sex. Or any sex at all. Obviously.
*whoooooooooooooooooooooooot!* Surprise, surprise Maties scored first ,followed by a few more kicks and some beautiful tackles, while UCT pranced around the field doing fuck all except further confirming their useless reputation.
I am a firm believer in keep your friends close and your enemies closer, so at half time I went to find these vermin ‘friends’ of mine. Shit really got wild then. Surrounded by these mother fuckers we moved into the 2nd half. Maties were obviously feeling a bit sorry for the Ikeys because they let them get a few kicks and one try in. I thought this was sweet - a good reflection of Maties caring and friendly nature. I mean what other team lets their opponents score a bit so that they don’t completely destroy their reputation? Exactly! It was especially funny because this got the retards supporting them so excited they were about to shit them selves! Going ape shit as they screamed and shouted with their usual arrogance.
This euphoria, however, was short lived – for the Ikeys, as Maties got some more points and ended the game on top. I can’t say that we were surprised, nor that I didn’t tell you so, but we celebrated with style non-the-less - while UCT drowned their sorrows. A perfect way to start a night. And what a night it was. With town filthy packed, the smell of sweat lingering in our nostrils, and a bedtime of 7am, the night of March 8th is one for the books...
It’s Friday,12 march, plans: Jew Biscuit’s Braai, Kimberly Hotel, The eviction party, Evol.
The braai starts off rather chilled and jolly, just a couple mates getting pissed around a fire. I arrive equipped with a mixture of single ladies drinks with a very high sugar content. I am going to do anything in my power to not fall asleep at Evol again. I have a feeling that I will go mad this night, and I actually warn everyone as a joke and apologize for any fucked up shit I do in advance. *FAST FORWARD* Brandy is spraying everywhere. It’s in my eyes. As I drift around a corner I lose control and hit the curb...softly. Everyone is awake now, lively and very pissed off. We arrive back at the braai, grateful to be alive and a couple energy levels higher than the rest of the party. We have a couple games of free for all foosball and bullshit talk before we decide to leave to town, most of the crew hops in the bakkie. As they leave I grab hold on the back, running on the road trying to match the speed of the vehicle, Usain Bolt had nothing on me. Thinking back I am surprised I’m not picking gravel out of my face right now. The bakkie speeds off and I make my way back up the road to the car in a strange contrast of silence.
The Beemer is packed with the remaining 9 drunkards and myself. One, our good Jew Biscuit wedges himself in the boot. What a legend. After about 5 seconds of driving we forget about him and blast my “Nigga Plz” CD. Biscuit is a sound engineer and is heavily over protective about damaging his delicate little ears. Unlike us, he needs them. His ears must have been bleeding as the sub had us all shaking to Lil Jon "GET CRUNK". As the track changed there was a second or 2 of silence... “Turn this fucking shit music off!” shouts Biscuit. He was completely ignored. We make a stop, take a piss, Bizzy makes out with his girl through the sun roof, hella sexy, and Biscuit is given the chance to express his feelings which are heard but obviously not taken into consideration as he finds himself back in the boot a couple of minutes later. We finally head off to town. As we get out of the car at Kimberly we almost forget about the bugger in the boot. Couple drinks and whatnot and I'm playing the piano. Shit, it must have sounded quite horrible. Not only was I completely sloshed and never taken a piano lesson, the piano was also well out of tune. I play Apologize, Kyle on vocals. (Ironic as I've been doing quite a bit of apologizing after this mad night) We rock it.
*FAST FORWARD*
Kyle, Logik and I are singing with some random crack head that’s taken over the piano. This night is already fucking weird and it hasn’t even started. I find Eel and he is so off his tits. He lets me slap him. I hit him hard. I felt great and he didn't feel a thing.
It’s not like me to hold back. I will let rip if the need be. Sometimes I will hold back on my friends, but generally not... Just last night I punched The Queen because the whore didn’t wait for me and so, being ridiculously drunk, I got ridiculously lost. On finding her; I smiled, walked towards her, and punched her square in the tits. Knocking her drink over on impact. She was unimpressed, but not shocked. This kind of behaviour is expected from little Alice, and so without saying a word she went to the bathroom to clean her now soaked dress.
The irony here is that it was not her that I wanted to punch but the slut that was dancing next to me. Bumping into me, grinding me, and just generally acting like a fuckface she had really spurred my anger and fired me up. When I’m drunk I really am a feisty ‘lil tiger. And no you perve, I’m not talking about in the bedroom. I mean literally I am like a psychotic freshly released from Falkenberg. With a single word you can wind me up so much that Satan literally sits behind my eyes. Luckily I moved off the brandy last year, although come to think of it, I haven’t actually noticed much difference in my behaviour...
The best part is, everyone in Stellies gets so mother drunk when they go out that they forget that you threw your bacon at them, or that you tried to stab them with your fork, or that you broke all of their cigarettes in half... It’s beautiful really. Who needs a stress ball when u can act like a raving lunatic and no one knows any better the next day? Lovely.
Everyone has a jackass friend who somehow can convince you to do anything! Well that’s Alice, she has a way of making even the most trivial things sound like a ride on a ferris-wheel. The things she has talked me into doing range from:
Driving to ‘RAM’ fest without actually having tickets, so we could try our luck by either climbing over a barb-wire fence, swimming down the river to the camp site or prostituting ourselves to anyone who could get us in, only to find that it was all impossible.... We sat around for a while, waiting for a miracle, and to our surprise we actually found one. - We started walking into the festival, trying to blend in, hoping that no-one would notice us just slip by. Unfortunately they did and we got kicked out, BUT on our way back to the car we found some dodgy half price tickets that were being sold by a few drunken kids. MIRACLE!
She also persuaded me into getting drunk, by ourselves in an abandoned guest lodge with an open bar while dancing to the KTV CD.... To jumping off a 40meter cliff into freezing water wearing nothing but my ‘nikkers’. Or she just suggests we go to Clifton for the day, only to end up sneaking into a private Peroni’ party at the waterfront looking like shit! While models paraded around and old men perved.
Well, the little Alice bitch made another big suggestion on Saturday night, which lead to me pissing in a UCT residence shower, filling a dorm room with blown up condoms and then passing out next to her (who was wearing nothing but a thong and a T-shirt) at 6am in the morning! THEN, after waking up at 10, to the site of my darling friends’ drooling face, I had to strut my hung-over self down the corridors, again LOOKING LIKE SHIT, in the clothes we wore the night before (very skanky for a Sunday morning) -shoes in hand, eyes blood shot and stinking like first year cum (the boys must have taken many a-wank on that bed). Seeing as I can’t even remember how I got there in the first place, or why the fuck I spent so much money, I just kind of shrugged my shoulders and accepted that I am officially a spineless pussy who cannot say no to that stupid bitches crazy ideas!
Most people believe that everyone has a good angel on the one shoulder and a bad angel on the other shoulder. Well to me, it feels as if Alice took my good angel, fucked it up the ass then sold it for ‘tik’ to an illegal trafficking agency, and now all I have is this bad mother fucker who keeps letting me fall in crap holes! Thanks Alice.
So there you have it kids, if you have a friend like this- you might want to read a book written by Chris Brown, ‘Smack My Bitch Up!’- I’m half way through and totally ready for the next time Alice tries to come up with ideas. - Queen of <3
As the Queen of Hearts I think I am entitled to express my feelings on being single- yes I was in that state of depression once... long ago before I care to remember. Like any person, I like to drink! That means occasionally I will venture out into the land of funnels, night clubs and vomit. Being the queen that I am, I often catch myself observing the single crowd; I interrogate them like wild animals (which is mostly true to their nature) and come up with crazy conclusions as to why exactly that guy with the beer stained shirt is ass grinding that buck- toothed whore? It astounds me!
Now, I can’t say I’ve been the biggest saint around, there have been many occasions where I’ve been tapped on the shoulder by a stranger saying: “Excuse me, I can see your entire ass!” while riding my boyfriend on a low bar stool, slobbering sweet nothings into his sweaty ear. But like I said, I like to drink! My point is, why would a perfectly educated person, studying let’s say, a BRek or something like that, downgrade themselves to a sticky, piss covered floor in a shit stained bathroom cubicle and mac something that resembles a sesame street character with no exact gender? Hmm
Well, if this kinda thing shocks you, then you need to get out more. Those of you who are laughing, shut the fuck up! Cause you’ve probably done worse. The thing is, single people need to get laid more often. That’s my conclusion... Their built up hormones and sperm can lead to some very red faced moments. So I rate, either dress yourself up nicely (throw away that beer stained shirt), brush your teeth and head on down to a lovely barraunt! (That’s my word for a restaurant with a bar)-Where you should be able to find some literate specimen, who can actually read a book and not just the label of a Miller’s bottle. Otherwise get yourself a fucking dildo and some lube and stop acting like a complete Brittney slut! Trailer trash doesn’t suit your complexion.
Join the table as Alice, The Mad Hatter, and The Queen of Hearts discuss daily events, express opinions and share stories in a very honest, humorous way.
Alice xxx
