So it’s the usual Friday stretch, broke… bored. I choose to stay in as usual. I pop down to the Kimberley for a quick pint. M Blackman is sitting at the bar with artist Dan Halter who looks extremely depressed. I ask why and he grunts and turns away. I sort of leave and head home to make some Katembas for a quiet night in with my Friend and settle for crap Friday night entertainment.

But around 10pm I get bored and Blackman invites me to the Kimbo for our weekly emo watching session. The Emos usually arrive at exactly 10 and leave at exactly 12 for their Friday Night Assembly / Evol trawl. But tonight there are not too many of them. There is an Emo magazine launch at The Assembly – Vice Magazine South Africa.

Upon my arrival at the bar, Halter grabs me round the neck in a fairly useless attempt to reach the 4.5m high ceiling using only his feet. He lands and injures my foot and I feel a hint of pain. Gravity is a bitch when drunk. I am a bit irritated and consider a homeward mission. I grab a beer instead. The evening is fairly pleasant and there are a few nice art people there.

Blackman and I do our usual Backstreet Boys dance for the ladies but soon enough Halter transforms the centre stage into a Roxette mosh pit. I feel perfectly sober but realise that the Katemba inebriation will soon rear its silly little head. Halter busts a few moves and a few glasses in the process. He proceeds to bash my hip in against the bar counter. I fall and catch my breath.

In a foiled attempt to neutralise the situation Blackman sadly loses the use of his right thumb while c-fibres fire across a crowded bar. Halter snake spits beer at us, a fairly mindless ability I have had the pleasure of seeing only him perform. We get slightly drenched. A beautiful young couple walks into the bar, politely dressed and freshly showered for a night on the town. Halter approaches the lady, presents her with a mouth-aided squirt of beer to the face. The couple seems flabbergasted and gawk with mild surprise, stunned for response.

Blackman is spotted at the jukebox in line for a Winehouse tune. Halter hits the runway and launches himself onto Blackman demanding a piggyback, in turn spilling Blackman’s beverage onto the lady in front of him. He gets wrestled off and I get similar treatment. I pull into reverse gear and deposit Dan onto the bar counter. He sits on the bar for about five minutes, looking confused and leaps back onto the dance floor.

But his latest dance, the one sort of looking for his beanie on the floor involves smacking patrons with the metal part of his jacket zipper. Young artist Ian Grose loosely escapes a blow to the face. I step in and perform a close-dance with Dan, constricting him of movement. It’s all a bit sexy.

But we realise that we can’t keep it up for much longer and call for a cab. In an attempt to get Danny into the taxi he manages to break Blackman’s other thumb. So much for Blackman’s PlayStation days.

But everyone seems in good spirits and we head for Evol. It is extremely boring and I head home.