Red Bikini Bottoms doesn't maketh the man. But it's a ballsy thought!!!!

This is November. Oh. And it’s also Movember!

I’ve supported this effort for Prostate Cancer for the past how many years. Growing my moustache to the horror of my wife and others, who, on the best of days bare the burden of looking at my face grudgingly, let alone when it is garnished with red, copper wire-like facial hair.

Since I was born and started remembering things, which was approximately at the age of 18, I learnt one thing. Well actually, strangely enough, I learnt many other things as well, but one thing that actually stuck was, that if you don’t want others to laugh at you on their own, you need to join them.

During the years I made an arse of myself a few times a day. The velocity increased to a few times every half a day then to a few times every few hours and eventually became an automatic, unstoppable storm of idiocies every few minutes.

That meant that I was laughing with the others all the time, while trying to ignore the embarrassed facial expressions (even sometimes agony and even sadness) of my extended family and prim and proper friends.

Hey, they chose me… OK in some cases I manufactured some of them and as for my wife… She did have a choice, even though I hid my “inadequacies” from her obviously very stealthily during our courtship…..

Anyway, as I said. It’s Movember and I have the old ‘stach growing at the speed of running super glue, but it will get there in the end.

In itself, except for adding to my rugged cowboy looks, it’s not such an embarrassment I hear you think.

And you’re absolutely correct! Well done for the insightful… ahm… insight.

The thing is. This year I’m not only thinking of the well being of my prostate. I’ve lowered the initiative a bit. Literally.

On Friday of this week, I, along with some other brave Daredevils will be running in the? You’ve got it. The annual Daredevil Run.

The great thing is that it will be quite a nostalgic run. I will be “competing” in this stunt filled exercise through the streets of the suburb where I grew up and where many, many, many people, including ministers of the church and elders and teachers (who tried their best – but failed miserably, I hasten to add) still live.

I will be half naked. The top half – don’t worry. I will be wearing some running shoes (with socks) and a Baywatch inspired red speedo…. Oh. And I may have the radio on as well.

So if you think you see David Hasselhoff running through the streets and parks of Rietondale in Pretoria and you think he lost a lot of hair and got a bit “round” at the waist line and decide against approaching for an autograph, just keep the following in mind.

It’s for Testicular Cancer and I HAVE THE BALLS for running for my BALLS!!

Groete uit die woestyn en van al die Arabiere