The Great Arniston Journey

Like most South Africans, there is nothing I enjoy a more than going down to Arniston for a weekend, and so that's exactly what I did this past weekend, as I'm a man and I can do whatever I want. The weekend was a good one, so good that I'm ready to share it with you, so sit back and enjoy my incredible photographic skills, second only to my footballing skills, and my ability to pee whilst sitting on the toilet seat.


The Famous Rock Of Arniston. This is the famous Rock Of Arniston. The old local man made me pay him R50 in order for me see it. I totally scored on that one though because apparently he normally charges R100 a view, but he said he liked the way I was put together, and so offered me a 50% discount. He wasn't on the beach on the Saturday and Sunday though, so on those days I got to see it for free (gratis). Well played Shaun. I just gave myself a pat on the back.


There's A Bad Moon On The Rise. An orange moon appeared on the Friday night, making us VERY nervous. As everyone knows, an orange moon means that local singer Danny K is nearby, looking to sing his favourite party single "Hey Shorty" to all and sundry. We were in the mood to party, but we were certainly not in the mood for "Hey Shorty". Or Danny K.

And so we kept our pepper sprays and crucifixes close by that evening, although thankfully we never crossed paths with South Africa's 7th most popular pop icon.


Time For Some Toe Jams. Two feet got very comfortable after a few drinks and started fooling around. As feet tend to do after a few drinks.


Don't Burn The Wors! Some Other Guy then rocked up unannounced and proceeded to burn the wors. The photograph was taken just as he realised that we were about to attack him and throw him on the grill. Just look at the fear in his eyes. He had no leg to stand on though, as when you are braaing, you should NEVER burn the wors, it's quite possibly the WORSE thing you could ever do.

I hope those burns heal up nicely Some Other Guy, but more importantly, I hope you learnt a valuable lesson from this braai debacle.


Rocks And Caves And Shit. Whilst exploring the beach, we discovered a tiny cave hidden amongst the rocks, as tiny caves tend to be. In it we discovered a wise old man who shared with us the meaning of life and all it's secrets. I was thinking of sharing it with you today... but then I changed my mind. You will have to go down to Arniston and see him for yourself.

And that, dear friends, is what is known as a cop out.


Getting In The Oil. For whatever reason, the beachfront seemed to have an oil problem, as this pic of my beautiful foot clearly shows. You may not be aware of this, but oil is incredibly difficult to remove - I eventually had to rub it off on some penguins I found waddling around. To the right of this pic (or left, if you're dyslexic) you will see a book by Carl Gustav Jung, one of my favourite authors. I am an avid reader of Jung's work, as I'm quite an intellectual, and regularly have in depth discussions with other pasty intellectuals who wear berets and tortoise shelled spectacles and sip on camomile tea.



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