Well hello there...

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

The Japanese Tourist

The Japanese Tourist

So Dalekins celebrated his 30th birthday last week… I know right.  I used to love that saying “You’re only as old as the man you’re feeling” but struth, I just don’t know anymore, he is beginning to get on in years! Now I’m starting to worry about whether I’m going to saunter into the bathroom one day and see him covered head to toe in my Clarins anti-wrinkle with cucumbers on his eyes!  Hell hath no fury like a treacle separated from her lotions and potions…

So anyhoo, he decided that he wanted a camera for his birthday.  His good ol’ digital (that I am still trying to get a handle on) is no longer good enough apparently and he wants a camera that has enough zoom on it that you can spot a pimple on a midgets arse… who’s sunning her buns in Australia… from our lounge.  So fair enough, we get him the camera (I mean, who needs to eat for the next 6 months!) a camera my Dalekins wants, a camera he shall get!

So the camera arrives and he pulls this thing out of the box (he had to use two hands) and I couldn’t help but look at the camera.  Look at his crotch.  Look at the camera.

Me: “Ahhh my sweet there is absolutely nothing wrong with your penis size” *sympathetic face*

Dalekins: “Um… what?” *confused face*

*snicker* *cough*

So anyway, little did I know that in aiding and abetting the purchase of this here mini hubble telescope was that all we had actually done was set in motion Dales complete and total personality transformation (reminiscent of Gollum and his “precious”) into… a Japanese tourist!

Lord above…

So off we bugger to Clarens for the Clarens beerfest.  What a gorgeous little town, it looks like you’ve plucked a little village right out of Switzerland and plonked it in the middle of the Free State.  Only minus the creepy blonde haired blue eyed people…  I felt just like Heidi… if Heidi was barefoot and could yodel in Afrikaans… but otherwise exactly like her!

Gorgeous town, every second shop is an art gallery, so if you’re like me and don’t know a thing about art you could just walk around and pretend.  Nod your head a lot and say things like “Yes, I just love watercolours…  they intrigue me more than oils because well water colours really release the existential personality of the object you’re painting…” (Mind you, I have never know what the feck “existential” actually means – and I’d bet me granny broeks that half of you don’t know what it means either! Sooo because I am smartarsey like that – WWGD (What Would Google Do):  Existential - assumes that people are entirely free and thus responsible for what they make of themselves.  Pfft. I knew that...

Anyway off Clarens and back on to our wee Japanese Tourist.

Dalekins took pictures of absolutely everything! No I shit you not! EVERYTHING.

Me: “Dallllllllllllllllllllle *whine* what the fuck are you snapping away at now”

*Dalekins taking pictures of what looks like the ground*

Dalekins: *rolling eyes* “See this frog *points* every time it farts it exhudes a poof of steam out its bottom.  I’m seeing what the fart looks like on camera if I reduce the shutter speed, use the F-stop and …”

Me: *gone all glassy eyed* *stomps back to our room to remove my Victoria Secret and to put my flannels on…* Aint no one who uses the term “F-Stop” getting lucky on THIS weekend…

Anyhoo, so Dalekins is so keen on getting photos from atop of this mountain that he straps his camera (with tripod mind you) onto his back, gets exact directions and hauls arse all the way up this mountain. Well this is what I thought happened when he was away for 2 hours, on a trip that should have taken 1 hour.  I’m thinking “Man there must be a lot of frogs farting up there”.  But no, Dalekins listened to the directions half-arsed and ended up losing the path entirely and yet still decided to keep going UP because surely he would meet up with the path eventually.  He even continued going up when he had to claw his way up like spiderman on the rocks that were now resembling a cliff face, with billy-goats looking on all bemused like and sherpas offering to carry his bag.  Yes he nearly died!  He came home snow white in the face, his legs shaking like jelly, arse all dirty (because he came down on it) muttering about how he very nearly popped his clogs.

Me: “You freaking ijjit! I would never have known where to find you! What if you’d fallen, you’d have lay there twitching like a dead roach for hours before we found your dead cold hands clutching your camera!! Did your life flash before your eyes?” (Me imagining how he would say “yes… I thought I’d never see your beautiful face again, or kiss your pouty *shrugs* lips…”)

Dalekins: “Yes…!!” *sad gulp* “I saw the day I unwrapped my beautiful camera… all the shots I had taken… “


Me:"...you hate me" 

Dalekins: "wha....?"

To blow, or not to blow chunks....