The Intergalactic Daily Message (D.M. - Die Emmers, get it, its frigging brilliant) Hosted by the Holiday House constituents in Cape Town. Spreading the good news to YOU, whilst creating the illusion that you never left home and we still love you.

Thursday, August 11

Funny thing happened at the Elandsbay Hotel Bar the other day


So the Jammin and the Pope are sitting in the Elandsbay hotel bar. Rather elated by the current bokke win they are still putting back back-to-back brande and cokes and generally chatting to the array a weird and wonderfull characters that have mustered a stronghold on the bar for what seems the rest of the night.
These characters include:
Blacky Swart- a stocky middle aged man whose responsibility it is to make sure that the crayfish pumps do not go below the low water mark (which will result in the pump sucking in air, burning out and all the crayfish dieing). So Blacky sits in the bar and runs to the crayfish factory every 2 hours and everybody knows his name.
Oom Thinus Louw - a 80 year old oomie who has spent his whole life in Elandsbay fishing and sitting in this exact bar.
The Barman: A fluffy guy that ran bars around the world including Alex in Joburg and something in Slaapstad. Well life in the city got too much for our man ( he apparently got robbed at gun point close to 8 times) so he and his wife moved to e-bay for peace a quiet.
Barman’s wife: A rather large set dreadlocked lady with a temper set as short as she is wide
Crazy Horse: A long mained surfer boy from Joburg who lost his 7 year fiancé and his business in the same week and decided that life was more about the waves.


So after the Jammin and the Pope got unsuccessfully woo’d to some weird ladies’s hotel room, the shit got weird. The barman returned from one of his increasingly suspicious little weed runs covered in blood. The poor man was so stoned that he did not even realise that his faced looked like it was mauled by a bag of angry kittens. Naturally the whole bar was up in arms: “ who did this? Give us names!!” and so everybody ran outside in search of the culprit. It being a small town he was found rather quickly. Blacky Swart decided that it is a good idea to fling this man from wall to wall holding onto nothing but the guy’s collar. I must say I did feel sorry for the bugger but there was no way I was getting between Blacky and his prey.

While all this was going on old Crazy HHHHorse returns from a undisclosed mission to see the entire bar up in arms about something. After numerous polite attempts to find out what was happening he decides that putting his fist through the front door will get him enough attention to find out: “wat die fok hier aangaan”. He deduces that the guy being held up by Blacky could need some further beating. So now its up to the Pope to restrain him and up to the Jammin to see if anybody will serve him another Brandewyn.

Enter the Polisiemanne from the building across the street ( I think it was the entire e-bay force) to take away the unfortunate perpetrator from additional head buds and crowd mauling. You would think its all over. No, now there is a screaming match between Crazy Horse and the barman’s wife. Crazy was gonna lose. The next guy to walk into the bar is the town’s prodigal son, straight out of rehab, and straight into a fit of slapping by Oom Thinus Louw, who believes that the boy is still on Tik and needs a on-site beating.
But why the Barman was full of blood? Here is what happened: the guy walked outside for a joint, only to see someone taking a piss against his car. So he starts running and (the rugby still fresh in his mind) dives the tackle of his life. He obviously misses completely and scrapes his face against the tar for about a good metre of momentum. That was all. There was actually no crime. Well after a shit load more shouting and tequilas they closed the bar except for our heroes and the locals and we all drank for free happily ever after.

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