Wake and enjoy a Saturday lunch with Jake Aikman. We have a summer show in mind. Aikman invites me for a steak, egg and chips from the Percy, which is always good. And we are both very happy to miss the Cape 09 opening at Lookout Hill. Yawn. More limited cultural funding ploughed into the high arts. And the only attendees are most probably the participants, like last time. Scratch scratch… eyeball… scratch... It comes as little surprise that the arts and culture money is always so limited. We support shit with a big name, in other words, a big shit. I have a wank and a vommie.

Aikman and I finish up the meeting and head for a drink at the Kimbo down the road. The whole of Cape is there. All twenty of them. I spot Ronald Suresh Roberts inside. I am not in the mood. I suggest we go to my hotel room for balcony sundowners with pretty sunset. Dan Halter storms out and informs us that we had been spotted from the inside. I hold Kiluanji Kia Henda responsible for making the windows see through. Suresh is wearing a remarkably unfortunate blue jacket… expectable in ‘93. And is hitting on the ladies. The ladies leave.

I am invited to a dinner party tonight. I bought a bottle of wine labelled The Dark Side. I am positive that it tastes like shit but I like the name. Thespian Myer Taub informs me that Suresh has invited himself. I say I am not coming.

I stay with Dan Halter and Jake Aikman and finish the rugby. Halter punches me on the shoulder. I hit back, forgetting that I am very frail and break my wrist. Zayd Minty texts and tells me to come to the dinner. I attend and Suresh is still there.

Apparently he had eaten all the food, insulted myself as well as some of the guests and was just being his usual unflattering self. The hostess reminds Suresh that I am not there and that I was the invited guest and he was not. Suresh stays. I have a nap upstairs. Suresh leaves and we all have a pleasant evening. I wake in a lot of pain and seek professional advice about my arm.