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Sunday, November 26, 2017

I went to London this week

So, I went to London this week.

Yes, London, UK. Look, I even posed for a selfie while I floated in front of that building they call "The Shard".

Yeah. in my dreams.

I just made a really cool wall banner for the British High Commission.


No, instead I went for training on Thursday in Jo'burg this week. Incidentally the two guys from EFI that presented the course really were from London, UK.

Anyway, I'd been told I'd be going on this day-long seminar some time ago but still it only really dawned on me the night before... the way things do. Luckily I'd had a haircut last week so I wasn't too shabby but while showering I discovered an alarming budding pimple right on the left grief line on my face.

Happily I have some peroxide cream that always works and I lathered the bud with layers of that sweet H2O2 and went to bed a confident man.

Nobody else was interested in my course so I still had to open the shop at 5:30am and could only leave by 6:30am when the first worker strolled in. The 40km trip would have taken 50 minutes under normal circumstances but at that frenzied hour it took me more than 2 hours of bumper-to-bumper agony to get to the Xerox Head Offices close to OR Tambo International Airport.

The training proved to be very informative and I gained a lot of valuable knowledge.

I left at 15:30 and envisioned getting home early as the boss had kindly offered to lock the shop up so I could drive straight back to The One. Unfortunately, the rest of Gauteng had been given the afternoon off as well and it took me well over 90 minutes to get home. By that time my love had gone to teach his afternoon piano lesson and I was at home alone, all of 10 minutes earlier than usual.


I had an early shower. It was bliss after the long, stressful day I'd had.

As I wiped the condensation from the bathroom mirror to watch myself apply moisturiser to my battered face, a beacon suddenly shone its yellow beam upon me. Wiping the glass harder, I could see that the beacon was located somewhere on my face. When all the vapor was gone I realised, to my utter disdain, that my goddamned pimple had not shriveled and died... despite the peroxide, it had flourished and presented itself in all its shiny, buttery splendour.

I'm guessing that the cute guy I'd been batting my greying eyelashes at all day had not been staring at me because I'm hot, after all.

PS: If you zoom in on those selfies at the beginning of this post, you can see the remains of Richard, which is what I named le grand bouton.

Written by I