In the whole history of this tart’s relatively boozed up life, the past 4 days have got to be at least in the top 3 for being utterly shitfaced! Crazy B was up from the Mudder City and man did we fucking party like it was 1999!
The weekend was kicked off in true tart style with drinks at The Baron (where Crazy B had the life altering experience of meeting Pecan – totally thrilling) and then MyGrillMyBar, and of course what would a night out be without a pull in to Jozi’s very own “upmarket” meat market. Yip, Manhattanening we did go – even landed up with VIP’s for the rest of the year (I love it when Karma is kind)!
Now generally one would imagine that a good night out on the piss in this town would leave anyone with enough of a fucking hangover to stay away from the bad man known as alcohol – right? Not a fucking chance, at least not according to this tart! In fact as the weekend wore on so did the need to consume copious amounts of alcohol e.g.:
Crazy B had never been to Sun City so I decided that it was high bloody time that we changed that so to be different we decided to stay just outside of Sunnies at a place called the Authentique French Guest House. Mistake numero uno! Firstly this fucking place is located in the middle of fucking nowhere about 45km from the City of Sun and Debauchery. Secondly you have to drive through three bloody shanty locations before you even see anything that resembles a white face or a fucking sign for that matter. But the ultimate cherry on the cocktail was then having to attempt to drive down the most fucked up dirt road I have ever had the misfortune of trying to navigate. My pooooooooor car!!! *quiet sob* As you can well imagine I was not impressed!
Enter the need for drink # 1, 2 and 3!
After much debate and a few frantic phone calls we managed to book ourselves into the Cascades! Man were we gonna be pimping it for the weekend. Call for drink # 4
By this stage of the day we were so liquored up that I don’t even remember ordering drink 5 through to who the fuck knows but I do remember that they consisted of the most awesome apple n mint cocktails followed by a few more drinkies that had been stashed / stocked in our snazzy mini bar (god bless hotels!). The rest is a major blur but I do recall copious amounts of double vodies and red bull (we figured since we were pimping it in major expensive style that we might as well drink like we had no budget *lol*).
The above lead to a barman asking Crazy B and I if we were still there (ah, like duh man!), Crazy B pissing against some massive 4x4’s car tire (I have photographic evidence of this), climbing into the porter’s baggage birdcage in short mini-skirt, pretending to drive Harley and a few Quad bikes’ as well as flagging down the driver of the Miss SA LandRover!
Bee-ute-a-ful!
What a classy bunch of drunken tarts we are!!!
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