Thanks for the warm welcome all!
The name is, well uhhhm, omething that's been following me around for a while. In my younger days, I used to party quite a bit. Mostly out on a farm. Me and a few friends would get together, have a braai (BBQ), get drunk then shoot the place up. Well, during one of these sessions in late 1998, I almost got gored by a bushpig (basically a verry PO'ed Boar). With some luck, I managed to nail it with a hip shot from a Lee Enfield (around 1905 vintage) and dropped it. Later that night - after some more shock induced drinking (I needed the excuse), I started getting a little vulgar...the jokes were of the kind that you don't tell in front of ladies - hence the name Bushpig - we were in the bush, I killed a bushpig and then behaved like one all in 1998. Needless to say, I'm telling all of this based on second hand knowledge. I wasn't there in mind or soul - only in body.