I was so sad once in February I drove with the handbrake on for the whole day.
I thought the word “snorkel” to myself, over and over, and undertook a very limited exploration of every opinion I’d ever had on the subject.
Here Comes Mr. Clearsighted Humanitarian
Just a normal type of Christine Lagarde-looking older German lady tourist with a big fucking green beaded necklace and some spectacles with red frames standing right in the doorway of a bad restaurant on Long Street.
There is no one like a tired parent for seizing the opportunity to get absolutely fucked up in record time.
I know this is true because I have it, and so does my friend.
The most ridiculous of outings.
Table Mountain's steep footpaths are open to anybody willing to take them.