My friend, mentor, and former housemate, Chris Esterhuyse, has died.

Chris, who moved in with me at one of the most difficult times of my life, and saw me through breakups, near-bankruptcy, and finding new love.

Chris, who kept me fed, even if it was Mystery Chicken Surprise.

Chris, who introduced me to Gereth and friends.

Chris, who introduced me to operating a washing machine.

Chris, whose nickname on IRC was Sagittarius, so I dubbed him “saggy tits”.

Chris, who introduced me to the Franklin Players and my renewed acting career.

Chris, who put up with my dog Biscuit.

Chris, who despite living in South Africa, partook in a Paramount-sanctioned online text-based game based on Star Trek every weekend, on Microsoft Chat, very late at night.

Chris, who put up with me.

Chris, who shared a name with my brother and thus indirectly I thought of him as such.

One time I was playing a song from Jean-Michel Jarre’s album Waiting for Costeau, and I asked Chris who the artist was. He suggested “Steel Drum Sally“. I was playing that song recently in the car and thought fondly of my friend, who was always, always authentic.

Malcolm, you shared your life with Chris over the last few years, and I am sorry for your loss. I know how happy Chris was with you, because he told me. He brought joy, laughter, and light into the world, and we will miss him.

Chris is giving "don't take my picture, asshole"
Chris really loved the camera

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