'Dop' Philosophy

'If it weren't for the bloody Poms, we'd be goosestepping with the Nazi Jerry up and down the Parade' belched an old toppie, in the midst of his regular afternoon 'liquid relief period' as he lurched over a bar counter and his boep. The philosophy of the lush can astound, irritate and perplex one in equal amounts...depending on the amount of liquor consumed while formulating these home-brewed logic. Don't knock these sage-like oompies, they share their 'wisdom' for free and are satisfied if it's only the walls who listen.
From the size of men's willies to musings on life, politics, the state of society and tips on how best to marinade braai chops, bars are unofficial depositories, even assembly lines of cockeyed knowledge. 'If the bubbles in a beer float to the top quickly' lectured a sozzled geriatric one barmy afternoon in a George pub, 'then it's rich in barley and the real thing.' His tone developed into an almost stentorian pronouncement towards the end of his sentence. In his time-savaged mind this was important logic being dispensed... and it's free! His mate couldn't help himself and waded (stumbled, more like it) into the conversation with his addition: 'The amounts of barley also determines the colour of beer. The more bubbles, the more pissed you get.' Chuckle, back slap, snort.
These bar-schooled students of inebriation have got all kinds of postulations to offer to anyone bored, desperate or even genuinely interested enough to care. One toppie, his nose pocked with craters (a sure sign of his entry into the beer hall of fame) reckons there’s a dramatic difference between the amount of bubble in various beers. With a smoke cradled in his fingers he holds his glass up to the sun for me to inspect his beverage., Castle apparently has more bubbles than Amstel.
Politics is a hotbed of rage among this lot. Bloody Zuma this and damn Malema that are about as far as their political theories venture. A youngish woman enters the pub and all talking stops. Now the time to unleash the ballsy philosophies, intended to impress the fairer sex. Unfortuntanely for the chick most bars are breeidng grounds for sexism and lurid jokes. 'What do you do if a bird shits on your car?' asked one beer-stweded senior citizen. The woman moves around uncomfotably in her pumps as she reluctantly listens for the punchline. 'You simple don't take her out on another date again' explodes the oom into peels of laughter. He's famous! His pals join him. The bird orders her drink (wine spritzers are frowned upon in most 'manne' pubs. She settles for a vodka and tonic).