Strech Hummer-limo, check! Immense Ego's: check! (and thats just mine) Crazed, sandy, innebriated limo friends, check!

The Velocity party went by in a blur of "hey's" and, dare I say "ho's" and plenty of jaeger-bombs. Well I hope it was the Velocity party or else I crashed someone else's, mind you Loerie folk are a rather relaxed and fun loving bunch - which is a welcome change to the cut-throat, hard working lifestyle they lead the other 363 days a year.

Making our way back to the Waterfront (where we parked for some reason that seemed to make sense at the time) we even managed to pick up a Velocity Party after-party straggler, who had made a fairly HUGE dent in the bar, and get him safely back to some wharehouses in the docks that he claimed were his offices. Yeh I mean you Cam, hope you get home safe pal!

Stepping out of my stretch-hummer-limo to the flashing bulbs of the papparazzi, I strolled into the Mayor of Cape Town's Cocktail Reception party at Charly's Bakery. Strolling past an under-age mermaid surrounded by oysters, champagne glass in hand I passed a semi-clad Zulu warrior and his ntombizana. Man, that impi made me feel like a wimpi.  It takes a big man to wear such a small loin cloth. Truth  be told, I was surprised I got in, I had forgotten my entry ticket and my editor had forgotten to get my name on the guest list, but I guess they are not too concerned about suicide bombers having a go at Executive Mayor Alderman Dan Plato.

Outside the venue, city improvement district employees were hastily sweeping the last vestiges of Heritage Day rubbish out of sight of the VIE's (Very Immense Ego's). I couldn't help but think that it would have been a nice thought if it had been completed 3 hours earlier.

A live band entertained us until the obligatory speeches began and then everything kind of zones out as a table of monstrous muffins and chocolate cheese cakes and pink cookies kind of lured me into its diabetic coma causing claws. I can't really remember what happened next, but I work up on the floor of a porta-loo with pink icing smeared across the permanent smile on my face. I left soon after, making sure everybody knew that I worked for a rival publication. Now if only I could find my pants.

Who is it that goes to the Loeries, you may wonder?

I mean, sure there's the Big agency folk, the potential winners and the like and then... well, I guess the folk, like me, who's editor simply tells them they "will be going" and then dangles the carrot of an open bar and tasty VIP (VIE this year) snacks... Man those deep fried tempura prawn things were great last year mmm. VIP ticket for me? Yes please!

This year though, the chance to slip into mild inebriation and start laughing at total stranger's off beat jokes while Ad-exec bimbo's paw at your groin is somewhat inhibited by our editors grand blogging plan. Words like "regular updates" and "facts" and other strange beasts were thrown around in our pre-Loeries meeting. Oh well, blog we will, so watch this space for updates and highlights, maybe even regular ones... hay they may even be factual.

Truth be told, the Loerie awards are always fun and all the extra activities this year promise to be highly entertaining. That is not to say that last year (in Margate) wasn't fun, with its quaint after parties and beach activities and pole-dancers, but lets face it, we are in the big city now, and Cape Town is full of pole dancers working on their tans and other types of dancers strolling the streets asking total strangers if they would "like to party"! So we wonder, what will the Loeries have to offer us this year?

More of those tasty snax, I hope. Mmm!

After a 7am wake up call from Mark (its a public holiday guy!) I managed to get myself into some semblance of decency.

Im usually a morning person, managing to get to the gym at 5am, but being a public holiday I had decided to sleep in. The rude awakening left me as grumpy as a grizzley, nothing breakfast wouldn't fix - forget Feed My Ego, feed my stomach. And so it was that with much anticipation I trekked down to the Grand Daddy for the registration of the 2009 Loeries.

With Cape Town being that much bigger than Margate I found myself wondering if the Loeries would get lost in mother city, whether Long Street would even notice that their regular street party going crowd had been replaced by agency folk, creatives and media vultures (self included).

Once I strolled into the Grand Daddy I could start to feel the whole Loeries vibe, the excitement and wonderment (that may not be an actual word but I like it) had set in. 'Who will be here?', 'Who will be contending for the highly coveted Grand Prix awards?', and more importantly 'What cool free goodies would we be bribed with this year?'..