Monday, 10 October 2016

Riding the Anaconda

I first published this piece on my old blog quite a few years ago asking if anyone knew who wrote it because it was anonymous. As the person who always volunteers 'out of the goodness of my heart' to look after everyone's valuables when they go on these gawd awful rides I can totally relate and I was crying with laughter while reading this! I accidentally logged into my old blog's email account and much to my surprise there was an email from the author who has agreed to join our team of Merry Misfits over here. Us South Africans have a unique way of blending English and Afrikaans and that's why I am creating a 'Saffer Style' tab for his writings...
Hope you enjoy...
GeeGee x


Riding the ANACONDA

I am a father.  So, sometimes I need to do stuff that fathers do.  In the old days, it was marbles and tolle and ketties.  Things have changed.

So, two weeks ago, the fucking bright sparks over the road here, whispered the words "GOLD REEF CITY" into my laaities ears, and what can you do?  You go to GRC.

Ok, so I checked the website... nananana, looks like piss, hier en daar n fokken ride or two, and I wanted to go down the mine.  So ek trek my plakkies aan, kam my hare, and off we go.

We got there early.  Ek kap manhaftig twee worsbroodjies weg, en n halfliter melk, and followed my son to the first ride... called Runaway Train.

We get on, and I thought these things were for kids and stuff, and off it went.  I did not like it.  It was going sideways and shit, and I was queasy when I got off.

What bothered me though was the sound coming from behind me somewhere. Dit klink soos n fokken boeing wat land.  And then I saw it.  Big signwriting... ANAFOKKENCONDA.

I had to keep face, I wear the pants in this family.  Ek maak my arms bak, en ek loop fier en regop teen die dekplank op.  Ek gaan die donner ry, what can go wrong?

There was a queue and the fuck up with that is, you can see what the thing does to people.

When it came in the second time, and a young student dude, met spiere waar ek voue het, got out, and kots oor die reling, toe weet ek, my kak is uitgeknip vir my.

Then it was our turn.  Jono chickened out, BUT my wife was checking me out. This is where you have to be nonchalant, and manly.  I kept my chin up, en my hol toegeknyp.

You get into this thing, and you hang.  The safety bar didn't want to go over my hoenderborsie, so I pulled a Ville Valo, and made myself thin, and hooked a clip too close.... I think.

KLANG KLANG KLANG KLANG.... en kom ons fok nie rond nie.... skielik is ek so bang dat ek n bliksemse nieraanval kry..... dan draai die kak ding en FOK HY NA BENEDE....MET DIE SPOED VAN N HEILIGE FOKKEN WIT ELAND.

I shit you not, forget any car, bike, plane or whatever the fuck you measure your manliness by.... it accelerated like nothing I have ever felt.  But if this wasn't enough, gaan donner die ding onderstebo met jou.  I feel the worsrolletjie.  No wait, I feel the texture of the worsrolletjie, every fucking fibre of the worsrolletjie.

Kerels, we came out that first loop met die spoed van fokken wit lig. I wanted it to stop.  I haven't prayed in 22 years.... I did then. We leveled out, and then it hit the second loop. Shorter radius than the first. Ons fok daardeur, en ek verloor my plakkie. Onderstebo, and then around 2 flat corners wa ek 10 jaar ouer word, and then....  the fucking thing corkscrewed. Klits daai fokken broodjie en die melk laat dit lyk soos daai kak wat jy oor bobotie gooi, and another, en fok dit, toe skree ek soos n Namibiese vlakte vlermuis wat se sonar gekak het.

And into the station at 200km/h, and just for shits and giggles, they stop it in 10m flat.

I just sat there.  Stunned, and my wife is oooh and aaaahing, en lets-go-againing....sy moet haar jags hou.


It fucked my whole day up.

~ Lokkenfekker

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