davidn

I'm typing this on a machine in the JHB, as my ghetto computer is sleeping peacefully and I also needed somewhere to sit down and rest my shattered leg after DDR.

Hehe, that was a great night out. Started off by meeting Graeme and Alex (I really hope that's his name, if not I apologise... come to think of it, was it Adam? Never mind, I'll call him Alex anyway), then picking up Phil and joining the rest in Drouthy Neebors, which I most likely can't spell. After spending a while there, we went to the Red Reiver, which I can't spell either, for the karaoke.

I'm happy to say that I'm no longer a karaoke virgin - I performed Living on a Prayer, gave some assistance with Summer of 69 and was half of a Bohemian Rhapsody duet. After my solo performance I was informed that I "could sing", but I really think my high notes went to pieces. Have to start an octave lower.

I was also talked to by some lunatic geriatric that said that he was a soldier in the Falklands War and wanted to assissinate me. Still, it shouldn't be a problem to just kick his Zimmer frame out from under him and run away.

After some impressive performances, many by

gh, we went along to the Union, and more specifically to the DDR machine.

Now... what follows relates to one of the aspects of my life that I'm more embarrassed about, but I'm going to keep typing anyway. Of course it won't seem like a good idea in the morning, or when I come back from Reading Week and remember that you've read it all, but here I go anyway. (Hope you're all nicely anticipating now).

( Never press this button )

Anyway, after racking up another double-A score on DDR I limped back here to check my e-mail, and happily I've received more fan mail. Apparently, "The Creator" ROCKS!!! What a nice way to end the evening. And now this post has come full circle, so good night, and thank you very much.