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Nay, this isn’t a review of Corne and Twakkie’s The Most Amazing Show (although I will write up more reviews soon, when I’m not stumbling about in a semi-comatose state).

This is, in fact, a negation of my previous claim to being an old hag.
Nay, rather, it seems the tables have turned.
I’m not too sure how this has all happened, but this is Grahamstown, and sooner or later, you’re gonna land up hooking up with your digsmate’s best friend’s brother on the same night that your mate staying over at your digs for Fest overdrinks and needs you to hold his face from falling into the toilet bowl, all this just a few days after you hooked up with another dude you have only recently met, and have since come to friendly endings with, and all of this to be followed by you bumping into your last ex-boyfriend’s Awesome New Girlfriend at the theatre, and having a most amicable conversation with her, and realising you’re not even jealous anymore, and she can’t be hated, because she’s pretty sweet.

Ahhh, believe it, because it’s true.

In other news, not drinking for several months, and being a lightweight to begin with, can result in the consumption of a single Savannah cider having the same effect as a tank-full of vodka.
Having to then drive home and nurse your very drunk friend under these conditions can prove most interesting. Doing so in the company of an ever so tipsy folk musician, can prove most enlightening.
Then still succeeding to party yo tits off to drum and bass and do that flirty flirt thing, is almost unbelievable.

Waking up the next day wondering how the fonk that all happened, can prove most blog-worthy.

Oh. My.

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