Watching rugby in Oyster Bay

So off to Bar-Nic-Les (barnacles geddit) to watch the Stormers (from Cape Town) against the Western Force (still from Perth).

The bar is filled with mostly overweight Afrikaners and they are pumped up with alcohol and testosterone. A different atmosphere from the one that I am used to in Melville. I remember why I am not overly fond of my own people when they are from a slightly rough background. They remind me ever so much of Julius Malema.

The Stormers lose the match narrowly and I am glad to be out of there. That was yesterday and I wanted to write about it then but my friend the Laughing One is a bit iffy about me using his laptop and I forgot my damn power supply in Joburg, so I am dependent on him. I am sure he thinks I will surf virus-infested porn sites on his computer. I will not, but sometimes one's friends have weird ideas about one.

Last night I convinced him that it depresses me being unable to blog. So today I am using the computer but have nothing to say and forgot what I wanted to say last night when I thought of something brilliant to say.

So now I am blogging off without having said anything.