Home on a Saturday night...

...with all the doors locked up tight, I won't be thinking about you baby. After a very hectic Friday, I'm home on a Saturday night for the first time in so long I can't even remember.

Yesterday we hit GIN in Greenside which I recommend highly for it's fab food, excellent cocktails and generally chilled atmosphere. After a lively roadtrip, to say the least, Stefan, Johnny, Warren and I arrived at Alicha's place, loaded her into the car and then missioned off to GIN.

And then the fun begun. After many cocktails, and inadvertently hitting happy hour, we went to play some quick games of wii, grabbed some pizzas, then missioned all the way back to Pretoria. Zeplins was the POA, but after arriving there to find a good 30 metalheads in the standard black shirt with Korn / Slipknot / Metallica T-shirts paired with jeans / camo pants, we ran like hell to Runnings, which was much better. Apparently it got raided sometime later that night, but thankfully we were gone by then!

So ja, today I've been arbing around, and then just didn't really feel like going out, so here I am, catching up on blogging I haven't done for probably a good six months. I don't know why I haven't written in so long, perhaps I just didn't feel like I had anything significant to say (not that I feel particularly inspirational right now) but I'm trying to make an effort this year with more creative endeavours (photos and writing specifically) so this is a good place to begin.

Lately I've been a bit bored with my music collection so I'm trying to catch up on more old school people that I should've known and loved long ago, so to end this silly little post here's some lyrics by the Boss:

Well, they blew up the chicken man in philly last night
Now, they blew up his house, too
Down on the boardwalk theyre gettin ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now, theres trouble bustin in from outta state
And the d.a. cant get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gamblin commissions hangin on by the skin of his teeth

Well now, evrything dies, baby, thats a fact
But maybe evrything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
And meet me tonight in atlantic city

Well, I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got debts that no honest man can pay
So I drew what I had from the central trust
And I bought us two tickets on that coast city bus

Now, baby, evrything dies, honey, thats a fact...

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever Ill stay
Were goin out where the sands turnin to gold
Put on your stockins baby, `cause the nights getting cold
And maybe evrything dies, baby, thats a fact
But maybe evrything that dies someday comes back

Now, I been lookin for a job, but its hard to find
Down here its just winners and losers and dont
Get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well, Im tired of comin out on the losin end
So, honey, last night I met this guy and Im gonna
Do a little favor for him

Well, I guess everything dies, baby, thats a fact...