Them's Fightin' Words

Even though it’s fucking shitty Monday again and even though we’re all right back here, right where we were last week and even though no one’s boiled up any fucking coffee yet because everyone that works here are jerks and all those emails you chose to ignore on Friday are burning little holes of guilt in your inbox like smouldering cigarette cherries through your prep school blazer, even though all this shit’s happening, I think we can agree that the weekend that just past?

It was pretty awesome.

 

 

Mine kicked off with a few rushed beers with my main man SupaDan at Neighbourhood where we hurriedly tried to bang out a fresh storyboard for the next TigerTV extravaganza. All I can say at this stage is we’re taking things to the next level this time around and the shit we’ve got planned is going to make that whole necrophilia thing we did a few months back look like a big fucking joke.

See what I did there? Course you didn’t! Get some coffee in you fer chrissakes, you’re still half asleep 😉

Then right at the end of my drinks with Supa, this guy flags me down like he knows me and I look at him like I know him too, which is completely fucked up, and just as we’re about to do the whole, “Hey man! / Hey bro! / How things? / Yeah good and you? / Yeah good! / Well good to see you! / Yeah you too!” this guy says my favourite fucking sentence to me:

“Hey! Don’t you write that SlickTiger blog?”

To which I replied, “Fuck yeah! I am SlickTiger!” (affirming who you are through a fabricated alias is so fucking cool. It’s like someone coming up to you and saying “Hey! Look everybody! Batman!”).

 

 

And that’s how I met Bowlphilosophy, the guy who posted one of my favourite comments on the site so far, right under this post.

After that I went with my boss-lady to the Cape Town convention centre for the annual Highlands Ball hosted by the Keepers Of The Quaich.

For brevity’s sake I’m not going to go into all the details of what went down, but basically I tasted some of the best single malts money can buy, watched an enraged Scott slash a haggis to ribbons (some kind of tradition) and went dressed like this:

 

 

Then, as if my life wasn’t fucking weird enough, a crazy thing happened in the wee hours of Saturday morning.

See, right behind where we live on a wine-farm-that-shall-not-be-named, are enclosures for Anatolian Shepherds that we look after. They’re flippin’ MASSIVE dogs that mostly just bark all night and add to my sleep-deprivation-inspired madness but are also a lot of fun to pal around with because they’re so big and friendly.

Anyway, one of the Anatolians (Mercedes) has been pregnant for some time and at 4 on Saturday morning, she gave birth to two puppies.

J-Rab was on call for the puppies and rushed out the second the woman watching Mercedes called to say the puppies were breaching.

I half remember J-Rab running off in the wee hours to attend to the birth and then I went back to sleep. Six hours later, J-Rab still hadn’t returned and when she did, it was with the news that Mercedes had not given birth to two puppies, nor four puppies, but TEN FUCKING PUPPIES AND WAS STILL HAVING CONTRACTIONS!

An hour after that, it was 11 puppies. An hour after THAT I watched as puppy no. 12 was born.

Who knew one mammal could spit out so many little wet furry worms?!

 

 

Then while J-Rab and her aunt and cousins and I were all having lunch at Dornier and enjoying some fine Cab Sav, J-Rab gets a call that puppy no. 13 has been born.

At which stage we all poured another glass of wine, more than a little concerned that the world was about to be completely overrun by some kind of puppy apocalypse.

The final count, I shit you not, is 14 puppies. Mercedes was in labour for 18 hours in total before the last little squeaker plopped onto the straw and into the world.

That’s enough for an entire Iditarod Sled Dog team, just like in Iron Will! You know, the movie about the guy whose dad is killed in the mushing accident and so he decides to take part in a dog-sled race to save his family farm starring MacKenzie Astin? C’mon! Everyone knows that movie!

Anyway, bottom line is if this whole blogging gig doesn’t work out for me, I’m taking my Iditarod dog sled team to Alaska and there’s nothing you can say to stop me.

So now here I am, sandwiched between cheetah cubs on one side and 14 Anatolian puppies on the other.

And lemme tell ya, life couldn’t be better 🙂

So yeah, what did you get up to this weekend?

-ST