>Monday, Monday, so good to me: Weekend roundup.

I love Mondays. Really I do. For most people it’s back to the week/grindstone blah blah blah, but for me it’s the most constructive day because I usually tend to get nothing done during the other days of the week. Last night screwed that up for me. Why? I just woke up. It’s 2:00pm. Dit was ‘n befok skilpadbraai, which ended (as all pissups do) at The Shack. I accept no responsibility. I shirk all blame.

So in my attempt to dissect (and remember) the shenanigans of Friday, my mental footprints take me back to Stellenbosch. To Klein Libertas. To Jack goddam Parow. Some people would consider this a disastrous start and I would agree – especially if you don’t come already liquored-up with a substantial amount of branna coursing through your veins.

Inggs, Ian and I pitched up there way too early, where there was some kind of braai effort going on and all the cool kids had been replaced by some barely legal ones. So we left. Went back to the car and, well – met a very interesting and DOOS DRONK car-guard named Sarah who we then proceeded to musically enlighten by blasting Jack Parow from the car. Back to Parow, who delivered a genius performance. Why? I shall explain: the satire in his lyrics is smart. Very smart. Ripping off Jeremy de Tolly and all the yuppies who think they’re cool because they “luister na die Dirty Skirts” is one way to get people to pay attention to your music, but more importantly to talk about it. Some might think he has a personal axe to grind with de Tolly (which I doubt) but it really doesn’t matter. And Jack’s surrounded himself with the right people to spring board a lekker career for himself. The proof speaks for itself – ‘Die Vraagstuk’, Die Antwoord, his cameo in the ‘Sonrotse’ music video. What the hell was he doing in that music video anyway? My point exactly. Moving along…

Yes, Inggs found her camera.

I was beyond stoked to see Hunter onstage halfway through the set because the thought of a duet between the two of them is a pretty awesome one. But it fell flat on its face with Hunter’s inaudible lyrics. Sound issues are always kak. I’ve also noticed that in almost every Jack Parow song, he mentions his name. At least three times. And it’s almost as though everything he does is geared towards marketing himself as die “romantiese Afrikaanse superstar rapper” which he totally is. It also helps that he’s a very humble and approachable dude. Checkout his Myspace here. I’ve linked it before, but if you haven’t been to check it uit, do it now.

Also, there was some dude in the crowd who thought he was hos like that because he was wearing a hat like Parow’s. He was not hos like that. And the high point of the gig had to be when Jack (and the crowd) sang happy birthday to some chick wearing a skinned animal over her shoulders. To quote Jack “Happy birthday to… la la la… happy birthday to you. Hepa.”

Activities after Klein Libertas included sneaking alcohol into certain places which shall remain nameless, running across the grassland of Stellies to avoid the sprinklers, sexay (clothed) photo shoots on the wet grassland and purple hazing it up at the Eiffel Tower. Black Out. Saturday. Sunday(zed out). Monday…

The new LMG is out bitches. WOO HOO. There’s a nice two page in there about The Wailers, written by a chick who has good skils. I like. My Ragdolls review made the grain. So did my Heldervue CD review (oh yesss). And then at the back I wrote a small piece on The Undefind. Please keep in mind when you read it, that it has been edited – but then again, if you are a frequent follower/reader of this blog then you would know this. Why? I don’t use exclamation marks in my writing. “Hepa.”