The Summer of Love Part III
And now the moment you have all been waiting for. At least I hope you have been waiting for it. It is very very possible that you guys threw me out after the last instalment, which was, I admit, a bit flaccid, and now you don’t care what happened between me and whatsername.
I shall rope you back in. I shall rekindle your interest with all the tricks I learnt in media school. I’m going to use a journalism technique called Hype.
It’s what we used to create Blu 3’s career. *
Here is The THRILLING conclusion to the GRIPPING romance EPIC SAGA of CLASSIC phenomenon!!!! Multiple exclamation marks!!!
So Daisy went back to school and left me behind, smitten and stricken on the lonely shores of love or something. She left me a man with a mission, though. I resolved to make good use of the term time, during which she was going to achieve the magic cut-off age—seventeen—to make sure that when she returned for her next holiday session, she would find me fully styled up. No longer would I be the scruffy rapscallion you know and love, oh no. I would transform myself into a dapper dan, a smooth dude, a slicked up, oiled down GQ-Armani bastard who means business!
So I got a haircut.
Don’t underestimate the weight of that act. It was momentous. This was actually the first fashion haircut I had ever had in my life. Prior to this cut my hair looked like this. May my assistant please wheel in Huey Freeman…
That there is Huey Freeman, who got his hairstyle from me.
My barber trimmed the top and shaved the sides and taught me that the style thus achieved, known as a French Cut, was a favourite and was very popular with the ladies.
“So, will it guarantee me the heart of my beloved?” I asked him.
“Homie, I am no Edith Mukisa, so I don’t really give relationship advice, but I think between this cut and you getting rid of that tired Adidas shirt you wear almost everywhere, I think you might have a chance. Good Grief Ernest, you virtually live in that shirt.”
I studied hard. The Fresh Prince and Boomerang and all that stuff on TV and from Marwan Videos was not entertainment anymore. It was course materials for my Bachelor of Dudeness!
Man, that was corny. Mbu “Bachelor of Dudeness”. Banange.
Then one day, when I was looking at my ears in the mirror wondering who I have to kill around here to get a set of sideburns, I heard…
Twinkle twinkle chwinnng! Guess who’s back?
There she was, in their compound, carrying her bags from the car to the house. She saw me and waved. Physically speaking I smiled and waved back. But in my mind I fainted. This was not because I was a wuss, though I was, but chiefly because, in case I haven’t mentioned it before, she was THAT hot.
We lunk up in the evening and we were walking and we came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. We stopped there and turned to each other. My heart beat faster as Daisy’s white face came up to my own. I knew that when I kissed this girl, and forever wed my unutterable visions to her perishable breath, my mind would never romp again like the minds of angels. So I waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then I kissed her. At my lips’ touch she blossomed like a flower for me and the incarnation was complete.
Told you it was better than Harry Met Sally. Inktus, that was better than Harry Met Sally!
And now, the truth.
When Daisy returned I was miles away in a South Coast suburb. We had moved house. I just heard that she was back from the kids at church and I had only one weekend to see her and make my move because I was about to leave the city for good. A’Levels.
So I have one week. And in that one week I also had malaria.
So that was the Prufrock moment. I didn’t even get to talk to her.
The end.
* Just kidding Lillian of Blu 3. Hey, have you ever thought of going solo? When are you going to get tired of carrying those two barbies? **
** Just Kidding other two constituent parts of Blu 3 .
My lawyers say I must not forget to mention the passage that I ripped out of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald was ripped out of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
I shall rope you back in. I shall rekindle your interest with all the tricks I learnt in media school. I’m going to use a journalism technique called Hype.
It’s what we used to create Blu 3’s career. *
Here is The THRILLING conclusion to the GRIPPING romance EPIC SAGA of CLASSIC phenomenon!!!! Multiple exclamation marks!!!
So Daisy went back to school and left me behind, smitten and stricken on the lonely shores of love or something. She left me a man with a mission, though. I resolved to make good use of the term time, during which she was going to achieve the magic cut-off age—seventeen—to make sure that when she returned for her next holiday session, she would find me fully styled up. No longer would I be the scruffy rapscallion you know and love, oh no. I would transform myself into a dapper dan, a smooth dude, a slicked up, oiled down GQ-Armani bastard who means business!
So I got a haircut.
Don’t underestimate the weight of that act. It was momentous. This was actually the first fashion haircut I had ever had in my life. Prior to this cut my hair looked like this. May my assistant please wheel in Huey Freeman…
That there is Huey Freeman, who got his hairstyle from me.
My barber trimmed the top and shaved the sides and taught me that the style thus achieved, known as a French Cut, was a favourite and was very popular with the ladies.
“So, will it guarantee me the heart of my beloved?” I asked him.
“Homie, I am no Edith Mukisa, so I don’t really give relationship advice, but I think between this cut and you getting rid of that tired Adidas shirt you wear almost everywhere, I think you might have a chance. Good Grief Ernest, you virtually live in that shirt.”
I studied hard. The Fresh Prince and Boomerang and all that stuff on TV and from Marwan Videos was not entertainment anymore. It was course materials for my Bachelor of Dudeness!
Man, that was corny. Mbu “Bachelor of Dudeness”. Banange.
Then one day, when I was looking at my ears in the mirror wondering who I have to kill around here to get a set of sideburns, I heard…
Twinkle twinkle chwinnng! Guess who’s back?
There she was, in their compound, carrying her bags from the car to the house. She saw me and waved. Physically speaking I smiled and waved back. But in my mind I fainted. This was not because I was a wuss, though I was, but chiefly because, in case I haven’t mentioned it before, she was THAT hot.
We lunk up in the evening and we were walking and we came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. We stopped there and turned to each other. My heart beat faster as Daisy’s white face came up to my own. I knew that when I kissed this girl, and forever wed my unutterable visions to her perishable breath, my mind would never romp again like the minds of angels. So I waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then I kissed her. At my lips’ touch she blossomed like a flower for me and the incarnation was complete.
Told you it was better than Harry Met Sally. Inktus, that was better than Harry Met Sally!
And now, the truth.
When Daisy returned I was miles away in a South Coast suburb. We had moved house. I just heard that she was back from the kids at church and I had only one weekend to see her and make my move because I was about to leave the city for good. A’Levels.
So I have one week. And in that one week I also had malaria.
So that was the Prufrock moment. I didn’t even get to talk to her.
The end.
* Just kidding Lillian of Blu 3. Hey, have you ever thought of going solo? When are you going to get tired of carrying those two barbies? **
** Just Kidding other two constituent parts of Blu 3 .
My lawyers say I must not forget to mention the passage that I ripped out of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald was ripped out of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Comments
Molotov temporailiy disabled.
Man, tough room!
@baz-at least you get a dancing ovation