Getting old with Omesh

My mate Omesh hit the big three-two last week and celebrated with a ‘Prawn Fiesta’ lunch that got seriously outta hand… Dude cooked up a whackload of prawns in a spicy, creamy sauce and laid out a seriyas spread that would’ve made Martha Stuart proud.

Still, despite having been one of those chef/presenter type of people on East Net, Omesh doesn’t own a Twister Chopper. Can you believe it? Naturally, it haaad to be my gift to him. And if YOU don’t own one, maak ‘n plan biets! That thing moers onions in, like, two seconds flat and makes cooking anything a total breeze…

But wait, there’s more! If you buy this, we’ll throw in a free…

Anyhoo, the party was riddled with interesting peeps on the scene – think Wonderbra hottie Lieschen Bothas, PR Queen Galia Kerbel, Jeff ‘The Bodgod’ Tsoutsos and actress Kelly Parkhurt.

Kelly, birthday boy Omesh and Galia.
Me and Jeff. (If you don’t recognise him, it’s ‘cos he’s wearing clothes…)
Kelly and her producer/director boyf Grant. FYI, Kell has the most adorable size three and a half feet…

Something about Grant reminds me of Kourtney K’s boyf, Scott Dissick. Except he’s not a douche… He was wearing an outfit so brave, he managed to steal the show from room full of hot, gay boys who work in media… no mean feat. Oke was clad in rolled-up jean pant the colour of those you’d find on petrol pump attendants and had teamed them with ‘fancy tassel’ moccasins.

You can’t see his shoes in this shot, but I love it. We dubbed it ‘Bleak Party Boy Chic’ at the time, but now I quite like ‘It’s my party and I’ll have manic depression if I want to…’ 

Upon arrival, I was poured a veritable mug o’ champers and downed even more whilst playing Ring of Fire, a drinking game that saw the last o’ party diehards getting blind dronk on the floor of O’s lounge.

Do I REALLY have to take my top off? It’s sooo bloody cold!

By nine o’ clock, I had the champagne headache from hell, so I took a fistful of ‘Addies’ and merrily passed out on the lap of that cute dude on the left who looks a bit like a young Kevin Bacon. (His name’s Justin, he’s single and has his own IT business, but really, he wants to be a pilot… Want his number? I’ll sell it to you for fifty bucks…)

The next morning, Omesh got up bright and early to go drop a mate off at the ‘port, but came back with a whackload of croissants for the few diehards that had partied til the wee hours and slept over. (I found that being a rather early fader had its advantages… I got to snag the best spot in the house; in Omesh’s goose down-clad bed. You don’t want to know how much that baby cost him, but it was worth every cent. When my long-suffering boyfriend called me around ten to find out if I needed him to pick me up, I was like ‘No babe, I’m sooo toasty right now, I refuse to move…’

Actor boy/Robert Pattinson look-a-like, Leon, got the floor. Ag shame… and it looks like he still thinks we’re playing the drinking game…

Thanks Omesh – your party rocked. Now use that bloody Twista so I can bask in Best Gift Ever glory when you call me and be all like ‘OMG, it’s, like, totally changed my life…’

Love, love


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