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Welcome to my blog. Brb... I'm making memories (read as: Wine. I'm going to get some wine...)

Psycho Quad Biker

Colder than a penguins arse it is... (No I don't quite know why that sentence sounds like Yoda said it).

So Dalekins and I got back from the Drakensberg yesterday, and in one piece! Now I don't know about when you all get together with your families, but with mine, after a few glasses of tipple, we tend to always “get up in each others grills” *gangsta hand flicks*

But look! Not a scratch on me.  Aren't you proud? A holiday with my family and we didn't even try and kill each other! Not even once! Well... there may have been a few instances where the opportunity presented itself to maim and maul each other, but *sigh* the plugged in toaster wouldn't reach the bath tub.  No matter which plug I moved it to.  No really.  I tried.

Makes note: Extension cord for next holiday.

So daddykins declares “We shall all go Quad biking, you will go get your motor runnin' and you will like it!” So off we troop to “All Out Adventures” or some such malarkey to go riding through the hood (In this case the mielie fields).

So this American bloke puts us all on our bikes when to my HORROR I realise the ijjit has put me on the semi-automatic. Now see, I have only ever ridden an automatic quad bike, and although they're not really toooo different besides THE FECKING GEARS and the NEUTRAL and the up and the down to shift, and and, Gods in heaven.

Queue severe brainfart.

Me: “Um, do you not have another automatic bike for me? And um maybe one in pink?”

Stupid Americanpantsfacehead: “No, use this one”

Me: “I hate you, you're from the devils bum and I hope you armpit hairs get infested with rabid possums”

“...and you smell funny”

So they put me on this pegged course to test us all, and my family all breeze through it.  So there they are, all lined up ready to get the wind in their hair and the bugs in their teeth, watching me about to do my “test”

...Which I fail dismally because instead of you know inching slowly around the course I go all balls to the wall and floor it... well... in this case erm, thumb it cause um you use your thumb not um, your foot... anyways I digress!

I floor it around this track like Sarel Van der Merwe with a firecracker up his arse and ofcourse start squealing like a girl when I realize I am going way too fast to actually steer the stupid thing and end up flattening all their pegs!

Stupid Americanpantsfacehead: “You have failed your learners test.  Again please.”

Me: *salutes* Hail Mein Fuhrer!

(This was repeated two more times – each time with more speed and more squealing.  And I may have launched myself a few meters into the air when I hit a bump... I suspect I may never have children as my va-jay-jay is now located right below my belly button which upon hindsight is going to make it very awkward to wear hipster jeans in future!  Oh and there was also a time where the stupid Americanpantsfacehead tried to jump out of behind a bush to see if I would stop suddenly! Hence whyyyyyyyy he made me do it again! Arseface)

Luckily another less Hitler like guy stepped in and spotted the problem immediately.

Nice guy: “Um lady, stop looking at the front of the bike when you're moving forward.  Look ahead of you... um basically what I am saying is LOOK WHERE YOU'RE G-O-I-N-G”

Oh.... right.  Makes perfect sense.  That and Dalekins says he was pissing himself because he  didn't know how I could see anything at ALL considering the fact that my huge fecking sunglasses were pretty much on my forehead and my helmet mouth part thingy was up around my eyeballs!

Pffft @ everyone. ;)

Anyhoo, after that I was a pro.

Well.. maybe not a pro.  But I didn't die.

Much fun was had but far too much activity occurred if you ask me.  Quadding, walking, hiking, squash (Which promptly resulted in Dalekins having to brush my teeth for me), karaoke'ing (Dalekins rapped “Thong song” after about 3 double rums and then some. Yes I'll keep that for a special occasion / revenge blog.  Yes I have recorded evidence).

I will tell you though that Dalekins doesn't take instruction well after about 10 double rums.  Like trying to train a gnat!

Dalekins returns from his Rapping debut at the Resort lounge (This after him and my dad leave the resort at about 12, get completely lost in the dark and end up probably hiking the entire berg (their shorts were all torn and grass stained and many bruises were obtained in their journey) which results in them actually walking into the chalet at about 1am.  The chalet was really only about 200m from the bar.

Dalekins stumbles into bed muttering “I luffff you, zzoooooo mush...”

Me: “Yes, yes get into bed please, and can you try not to breathe so hard, your rum breath is burning my eyelashes off”

Dalekins: “But... I lufffff yooooooooooooooooooo”

Me: “You.  Sleep.  Now”

Dalekins switches off light, lies on his back and promptly passes out and starts snoring.

Me: *poke*

Me: *poke poke* “Dalekins!”

Dalekins: “Mmmmmmmmm”

Me: *poke* Turn OVER you're snoring!”

Dalekins: *turns his face to the left and carries on snoring*

Me: *smacks Dalekins on the head with my novel* “Dalekins, TURN OVERRRRRR”

Dalekins: *turns face to the right* “I yammmmmmmmmm”

Me: “No, turn OVER, stop turning your face!”

Dalekins: *turns face* “I yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam” *keeps snoring*

Me: “Oh!” *smacks him on the head with my book and puts pillow over my face*

Insert Ugly Laugh

Waa Waa