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In the search for warmth and a good steak, we find our self back in Johannesburg. Land of the Johannes Burger and home to the unprovoked stab wound to your fu*king heart.

I’m finding that I like coming here. It makes me feel better about my life and having to deal with Germans on a daily basis. Like, did you know that the most dangerous days here are payday? And a quaint drive through Soweto may find you limping out holding what’s left of your door handle and wishing you had hands to carry it. Statements such as, “my car got stolen again,” are about as common as, “Hi.”

One of my favourites though is the story of a colleague who was getting car-jacked. For each word he said, he received a point-blank gunshot wound. His recount of the event went something like, “What-BANG-do-BANG-you-BANG-want-BANG-with-BANG-me-BANG?” There was a seventh shot in there but I don’t think he remembers. Fortunately he was picked up by the cops and taken back to the police station to give a report. Unable to do so given his current mental state, he was forced to take a taxi to the hospital.

Also, did I tell you about the steak here?

Fu*king. Delicious.