Gall(i) asks, "Where have all the SACKETT'S gone?"

Fcuck he's back !!

Galli begs the question, "Where have all the SACKETT'S gone ?"

I do not go out that often anymore. I prefer my couch. Yes, the same couch on which many of my clients used to "lie" or is it lie. Recently, however, I popped off to an upmarket club. The minute I entered the gaping entrance I knew I had made a mistake. Young men and women all beautifully turned out, adorned the bar and lounge. I slid into a dark corner from where I could scan the entire area. I felt like a SACKETT brother. Do you remember the SACKETTS?? Those resourceful, hardened and adventurous characters created by Louis L'mour? Yes, I fantisize, i'm a SACKETT, GALLI SACKETT.

I feel safe in the corner, no one can accost me from behind. More importantly, the lights do not beam in on corners, I am hidden from public scrutiny. My eyes flit across the room. The men all resemble marines, cropped hair with gel- highlights here and there. They flash wallets bulging with leopards and buffalos- NO rhinos- too demeaning. They order mixes, coolers, breezers. I flinch and shift my gaze to the women. Ah, the women, young and pretty but oh so pretentious. They smile wickedly, eyes focused on the leopards and buffalos. They fleece the men, who, too eager to please, fork out hundreds on shooters, more breezers and more coolers.

I maintain my composure. The chararde continues. No one appears real. No love, no romance, no innocent flirting, just false banter and then, I see her... sitting quietly... on her own, alone. True beauty, little if any make-up, no mask, piercing almond eyes and flowing hair.

She stands up, moves towards the "ladies" when she spots me, GALLI SACKETT, in the corner sipping my beer, out of the can. Her heart stops- a man, a real man at last. She approaches, cautiously, squinting to discern the mysterious figure in the dark. Printed on the front of her T-shirt one word- distorted by her ample bosom, MEN. I, Galli gesture with my finger, she turns around, tight jeans, tight ... I read the back of the T-shirt, "Jump 'em, hump 'em, dump 'em" I smile, she giggles.

The violins strike up- together Galli and real woman climb into his V.W beetle (the old one) and ride into the rising sun escaping the sad world of spiked drinks, luminous lights and frivolous friendships.

What has become of the Levi man??
What has become of the Castle man??
What has become of the no-brand T-shirt man??
What has become of the old spice man??
What has become of the just shagged hairdo look man??
What has become of the real man??
WHAT HAS BECOME OF THE SACKETT MAN??

Bring the SACKETTS back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cuckoo...if they're living in South Africa, they've probably either been hijacked or robbed AND they are completely gatvol of load-shedding!

Think Matchett could have once been a Sackett ?

hahaha