Cracking jokes & lots of eggs: Loyiso Madinga's Perfect Weekend

I like waking up early. Well, relatively early considering my seedy line of work involves late nights in bars and hotel rooms. Nightcaps tend to be the knee-jerk ritual of celebration for sets that went well. Nightcaps are also useful for sets gone bad. Nightcaps - versatile.

Six-thirty seems a decent hour to get up and go for a run or do yoga before quickly meditating. I find starting the day immediately with some sort of activity gives me a sense of accomplishment that lasts me the rest of what is going to be a lazy day.

I make the best scrambled eggs. Take my word for it. The secret is no secret; I use an amount of butter that requires a prescription of something you get pre-bypass. Gourmet scramble on toast and filter coffee in hand I wolf it all down while watching videos on YouTube. I seriously suggest the channels Nerdwriter1 and Every Scene a Painting. Then I write some comedy for about an hour.

I like to read after a shower I'm not a good reader but I enjoy it. I read at the level most people sing in the shower. Currently I'm worming the pages of 1984 (G. Orwell), Tribe of Mentors (T. Ferris) and The Sellout (P. Beatty). But to be honest at this point I'm probably still lost in the vortex of YouTube videos.

Oh, look at the time! It's lunch. More eggs. I'm trying to perfect this Japanese style of soft omelettes used on omurice because if I can't be a ninja in real life I'll be a ninja in the kitchen.

After lunch is nap-time. If we all took afternoon naps seriously the GDP would increase at 8% per annum. Science. Napping is a skill in which even the great Tata claims to have reached expert levels. So what if he had 27 years to practice on an island? Just look at what he managed to do once he came out. The world is a better place when we nap.

Post nap it's time to go for a walk, away from all my devices. Living in the 'burbs I have a perfect view to go white-watching. It's like whale-watching for the landlocked.

Then it's time for my 20-minute phone call with my mother. She catches me up on how her chickens are being eaten by a mysterious wild animal that can climb walls and consumes everything but the heads. If I'm lucky I get to hear horror stories from Mt Fletcher hospital.

Then I make a dope-ass beat and send it to Silas Beats to polish the production. This almost never happens BUT THIS IS MY PERFECT SUNDAY DAMMIT.

Finally, it's off to Pop Art Theatre to perform at The Box Comedy show and end a perfect day with a string of laughs.