Too Many Margaritas and Some Crack

After a particularly shite week, last week, I commiserated by have too many of these with Zeph and a handful of other reprobates (remember Starshine, anyone?)…

Not a clever idea, really. I got very out of hand and it all resulted in a rather nasty hangover. Cured, in part, by the loving ministrations of LB and large piles of French Toast.

French Toast was the first thing I ever learnt how to make. I was about 7. So I’ve had YEARS to pefect it. The trick is to make the bread really eggy and then fry it in a combo of butter and oil (preferably olive). Then slather it in something decadent like strawberry jam and stilton. Or honey and gruyere. Or some sweet chilli jam. Or just Maldon sea salt and some grindy pepper, if you like.

*drool*

Hangovers are also cured by laughing. Which is a good thing. Because Dusty's play made me laugh out loud. A lot. So if you're in Cape Town this weekend, GO SEE IT! Excellent play Dusts...really. LB and I loved it. I was expecting some ham dreck, but it was as good as anything I could have seen at the Fartscape, so well bloody done!

Then I saw this on Monday, racing around Gardens in Cape Town. I actually stopped the car, reversed up the one way, rolled down my window and took this picture, all the while, laughing like a loon. I love street artists with a sense of humour. I really really do. Kudos, stencil man!