Chess - The Game for Gangsters

The parents are out – the Paj keys are left behind. The night is cold and the air is thick with anticipation. Its 2002 Witbank High Matric Farewell and its about to get heavy.

Brandy and Water

Gastro-oesophageal reflux. Its AmazeBalls. For those of you that have yet to experience the wonders of acid reflux I have this to offer as a description: Remember Bruce Lee had his One Inch Punch? And remember how aggro the Gremlins were? Well it’s like the two had a love child, inside a volcano and are using your body as the embryo incubation vessel. Except it doesn’t bust your chest open nice and comfy like, it boils out of your face.

Billy Gibbons in a GTV

A thin-legged and aged figure stands in solemn light on the stage. His long white beard tucks into his cheap sun glasses as he hangs his head down. In his grasp is a Gibson Les Paul quivering with excitement. The drum beat kicks in, the lights go up, the base line follows in tandem and this guy, this frikken legend, looks up at us all and starts raping it. It’s Billy Gibbons and he is playing Foxy lady by Hendrx.

For an Old Drunk Bugger

There is one particular bend in Witbank that holds a number of fond and fender-bending memories. It’s a duel carriageway starting as 3 lanes wide and poised by a set of traffic lights. I’d come smoking it from the opposite direction, ditch the ZX (which was my old school import) into second leading up to the intersection – throw her nose straight at the curb, drop the clutch and hammered down the accelerator. 

Jackson in East Africa

I can’t help but notice that the bullet holes are about chest height and must have been rattled out from a rather large calibre weapon. They run down the side of the passageway like a go-faster-stripe which urges you to speed your step and sharpen your eye. How on earth have we ended up here?

XL You Beauty

The say an aging father lives his life through his son. My father grew up during a tough time in an area of Glasgow that made Guinness look colourful. Starting working at 16 and blah blah fish paste. So it was imperative to him and to this motto that I got a motorbike for my 14^th birthday. Please do not underestimate just how sooty Glasgow was back then because I got a Honda XL500S. It is a tank of a bike. Big off roader, single cylinder torque monster. The saddle stood just below my shoulders, the engine was bigger than my chest, the handle bars where set up for circus animals (mostly Orangutans and Sloths…Sloths must have loved that) and the power…holy shit balls the power was immense. 

Taking a Shot at Chess

His Queen comes belting it down the side line – g6 to h2. I defend my King by Castling d1 to b1, b1 to c1. His shining steed hops over my peasants and lands poised for attacked, b5 to a3. This is not going well. I look across at Brendan and all the hope I had in the ability of alcohol – was false. For he was already one Knight, 3 Pawns a Castle and both Rooks down and still going strong. His genius intellect constantly working to suppress the suppressing agent. Oh well – Tequila, Vodka and a second Tequila…Ergh, not good – deep breath – 7 Sambuca’s, 3 shots of Brandy, 2 shots of Vodka, one Absinth and I lined up to surrendered my King…the hardest of them all.

Erica - Meet Dodgy Doug

Speakers are thumping out angry Ze Germans rave, the high schoolers are getting bombed on everything but Minecraft, the lights are pulsing, the walls are aching and the barman is pouring…oh boy is he pouring. “Smash this!” he says and slides over two whiskey tumbler glasses filled with hard tack. I spotted Vodka, Rum and Tequila going in before my imaginary censored sign kicked in. I walk up to DJ Quicksilver, handed him his drink and shouted “Now make sure you drink this….” Shit. He downed it…AmazeBalls.

I Shall Name Him Ted

I need to start writing things down. Over the years I have had so many strange, weird and not-so-wonderful experiences that I am fairly sure not many people have had.

Auntie Colleen - Meet Dodgy Doug

Yellow, Red and Blue. Those where the house colours at my school sports day. Similarly the kindergarten section had all their play equipment painted up to suit. I’m sitting on the ground, take a shot of rum, and I am hoisted into the air…sip of beer. Back to the ground – shot – hoisted up again aaaand another sip of beer. Its 02:00am with a slight drizzle chilling after a massive razzle back in 1999. Untie Colleen comes outside, throws her angry eyebrows on and says “You little shits better put that seesaw back over the Schools wall!”

Fear Your Mother

04:30 am. Drowsy. Cold. Wet. Flip but my bed is uncomfortable? Maybe I should roll onto my side – ah, no that is kak as well. There is a stone stabbing into my side, why did I put a stone in my bed? Why is my hair so wet? Why can’t I feel my feet? Geez like this hang over is a shocker – I think I will just go back to sleep.

When I Let Her Go

Up into 3^rd – revs climb from 5000…6000…7000 rpm hold her at 7000 rpm, keep the traction on – balance her out and gently – but confidently – lean into the corner. The road cambers brilliantly to my right, she is humming at 140km/h as the rear tyre makes contact further and further up the curve. At 140 I feel she wants more – I give it to her – nice and smooth I twist open the throttle and shift my balance even deeper into the bend. The bend starts to sharpen – my confidence starts to falter and at 150km/h the side of my right shoe scrapes along the tarmac sending a massive impact-like pulse through Bumblebee – We are in trouble here.