Subjective Reality: The Weekend Starts On Wednesday

For the last few weeks it seems like Puzza Thursday has annexed by Wasted Wednesdays. Though Puzza Thursday still occurs, no doubt, the weekend just seems to start on Wednesday nights of late. Jozi has turned into a hotspot of culture and party. Maybe I've been cloistered in the punk scene for too long, but it seems that the diversity of all the scenes that have been bubbling up and growing over the past few years are suddenly coming out of the wood work and melding into something epic. What it's turning into I'm not sure, but scenes are merging, evolving, opening their eyes to see some bigger picture. I'm enjoying watching it.

So Wednesday night was spent in Benoni with The Sunday Punchers. Probably the drunkest punk/folk/rock/irish band I've had the pleasure of watching in a while (since the old Gross Misconduct Days at least). Definitely a band that's full of feeling and passion for music. I respect that. Got there earlyish and in record time, after a relatively traffic free 40 minute mission from Jozi, with Clint and Siane. Shaun was already waiting with beer. Gene wheeling is amp in. A R500 tab for the bands, we raped it, as the rest of the band trickled in. Mostert last, already a six pack down. though he swore he was sober. And we all continued to imbibe (except clint, on a sober driver mission) until the set. After which we hung around for a bit, hunted some weasels, slugged some car bar Scottish Leader. Mostert ended up with a black eye, no-ones really sure how. But that's Benoni for you.