Its Friday afternoon, you get to your house or flat! Kick off your work shoes, get your party boots and throw that tie as far as you can, put on some good music and get a ice cold beer out of the fridge. You call your “pelle” and tune them what the plans are for tonight, basically it would include a whole lot of partying and the occasional stop at BP for “padkos”.
You get to the bar which is usually packed with a lot of similar minded people like you, just wanting a few drinks, shots and good times, but wait, there is no one here at all. The bar looks deserted and drinks aren’t flowing the way they did last weekend. Did you miss something, is Fokofpolisiekar playing nearby or didn’t you get an invite to the biggest party ever?!
After a while of trying to make this funeral work, some bright spark gets the idea of going to a club….
The first thing that always comes to mind for me is dancing when somebody mentions clubbing. If you know me well enough you would know I am in fact not fond of dancing at all, it is really not my thang. I prefer sitting down and having a branna or 10 with the odd tequila here and there. Not that I look like a idiot while shaking my booty, I just don’t find it all that fun and enjoyable as other people do.
I would also say I do the random move here and there, nothing special, maybe even a air guitar after a few drinks while listening to a rocking band or song, but I would not move any limb of mine for Kurt Darren or Baby Tjoklits kak.
Now you know, but if you see me at the bar or something after midnight being jolly. I would not turn down a challenge for competitive freestyle dance moves like this handsome fellow below me.
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