Sunday, Dzama Sunday♩♪♫♬

For the past few months, every Sunday (ok, not EVERY Sunday), we have what Louis likes to call "Dzama Sunday". By the time Saturday night rolls around, we're usually at the "falling asleep while walking" point, so Sunday is the only day we can really let loose. Dzama is the local (really good!) rum, and in the afternoon we usually have one or two.

This Sunday - it was more than two. I think this picture pretty much sums up the evening

I can't remember who brought their guitar out last night but it was there. I need to get some pictures and video of Louis and his band-mates because they are actually really good!! The guitar player is a real rocker (and was going to be my boss at one point!) and he was missing whatever guitar-thing he wanted, so like a true Albertan (he isn't), he used an empty bottle of Budweiser. It worked perfectly.

And meet our one and only American friend. Originally from Texas, currently lives in Florida (possibly the president of the local NRA chapter), and real-life Yosemite Sam, no joke.  Always willing to lend an ear, and always provides the same advise: Buy a gun.  

 I got cold.

 Louis got drunk.

 Around 20h30, we all realized we hadn't eaten supper. I had worked out that day pretty hard, plus had 2.5 drinks, and was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to not eat. I walked to the Commissary (which I lovingly refer to as the "Gift Shop") since the cafeteria was long closed. I found this corned beef - made from real Malagasy Zebu. Ick.

The only real options (apart from the canned zebu) were potato chips. I bought a few bags and started walking home. In the middle of the path was a big frog. I decided it was a good idea to put the frog in the bag and then planned to scare the crap out of everyone there when they reached in for some chips. And then, I found another one! Well, it's only logic to add that one to the bag as well (I have no idea how I would ever come close enough to a frog that I could get it in a plastic bag.

 My plan didn't work, everyone was too sauced to understand what was going. Oh, but hold up - see that tennis racket looking thing? BEST INVENTION EVER. It "zaps" mosquitoes. No official stats, but I'm pretty sure that Madagascar has the highest mosquito & small bug ratio per capita. We (ok, me) had A LOT of fun with that thing.

 Bug project failed. Oh well.

An hour or so later, one of our party guests fell out of his chair and into the dirt. Like not even on the grass, it was like he lunged forward into the dirt - on top of or holding the guitar. I decided that the night was officially over. I made Louis walk the Dirt-eater home (which wasn't a super great idea, although I had no idea that Louis was really drunk). They somehow made it and Louis somehow made it back. Just in time to be visited by the puke ferries. Our Dzama Sundays are typically a lot calmer (and a lot less alcoholic) than yesterday's, but boy did we end up laughing a lot.

And poor Louis was lucky enough for his wife to help him to bed along with the following necessities: water, ibuprofen, and a bucket.

Surprisingly, he's feeling quite well this morning, although I suspect it's because he's still partly drunk.

Oh, well. I needed to post some shenanigans because this blog was getting a little depressing and a little too over-analytical.