You know what I hate?

From June 2007, an old, yet appropriate Africans piece. I still hate all these things, in most cases even more than I did a few years ago.

I've been thinking that I should just give this title to everything I write, because no matter how hard I try, a little bit of complaining always seems to slip out. I can only equate this to farting while also suffering from anal seepage. You're just expecting gas, but there is always that little squirt that leaves you slightly uncomfortable, and everyone looks at you like you're a monster. I find I have a similar problem with toilet humour. No matter how heartfelt I am trying to be, I always default to smut. I guess it is just the part of my mind that lubricates the creative juices. I believe that most creatively inclined folk are also blessed with antisocial traits, which makes up part of their special characters. I believe that, because the alternative is to believe that I am a 31 year old man who laughs when anyone says "bum". Sad isn't it? But I hate you for judging me. I decided to just write about a few things that I really do hate, because God knows there is an endless stream of crap that we wade through on the road of life, and numerous saboteurs who constitute themselves into stumbling blocks that stand in the way of progress.

You know what I really hate? I'll start with something really obvious, so you can see that I am human, just like you. I fucking hate pedestrians that idly walk into moving traffic as though they are impervious to damage, or are under the impression that a speeding car can come to a complete stop in 5 feet. As much as these stupid cunts piss me off, I do not wish to have a person's death on my conscience. I don't want to see the crying kids, the grief stricken friends and relatives, and be haunted by the spectre of this senseless death for the rest of my life. I try to drive responsibly, but I am only human. I hate the part of myself that just wants to stamp down on the accelerator when I look into those bovine eyes, as some idiot student lazily strolls in front of me as the traffic light turns green. It's like a challenge - "I'm just gonna walk asshole, and what are you gonna do about it?". Of course we have a huge number of pedestrian casualties all year round, but then if these people were aware enough to take notice that, they would probably also be vaguely aware of how much damage a heavy metal automobile can do to a fragile human body, but they're not. They're morons. If I didn't feel guilt, I would never stop, and just chalk it down to natural selection.

You know what I also really hate? Taxis. Everyone who drives hates taxis. Even people who use taxis hate taxis. This is what happens when the lowest form of criminal scum see a gap in the market place, and exploit the working class, so that Mr X can make a fortune off his fleet of battered unroadworthy pieces of shit. And they have the audacity to make themselves to be honest businessmen as well. Crucifixion is too good for them.

You know what I also really hate? My job. This also seems pretty obvious, but there is more to it than that. Not only is it creatively stifling, and bogged down by a lot of bureaucratic garbage, the company I work for has a main client in United Kingdom, with a complex hierarchy, and the attitude that since they are dealing with South Africans, they are dealing with third world peasants who do not understand computers, the internet, and any kind of IT or design related matters. After a long time of corresponding by email with certain persons (during which time I deduced that they were disorganised, and had rather poor taste in design), I got to meet one of the main culprits in person. During my brief interaction, I learned that she was an idiot who couldn't make a decision without a committee, and had barely any computer skills. Having seen an example of her own design work, I believe she had the tastes and talents of a toddler. She is now heading research and development of a multi million dollar software development project, concerning the custom built software that I often used at work. It barely functions, but then that is what I have come to expect. I work alongside great people, but as far as environments go, this one is rather soul destroying.

You know what I also really hate? This is kind of connected to the previous thing. Macs. Macs used to the thing to have in design, and they used to be "cool". You know what else used to be cool? Wearing stupid fucking little plastic dummies round your neck. Given what macs cost in this country, there is no reason on earth to own one, unless you are handed it free of charge. Macs are computers for people who are afraid of using computers, but want to sit in a coffee shop with their laptop open in front of them so that others can see they are funky, and work in the "media", you know, in case the Fall Out Boy haircut made one think they were a student. And what happens when it fucks up? You're fucked basically, because nobody here can fix them. Try fiddling with OS, and you will come away in a deep frustrated rage that will last for days. I've reinstalled Windows on my pc countless times, and have fixed problems with USB, hard drives, and my internet access, by asking friends, and often just battling it out myself. If I had a Mac, I would probably be dead from a brain hemorrhage now. I include Ipods and Itunes under this Mac umbrella as well. As much as I love my Ipod, I hate the fact that the controls are made for idiots, and thus actually hamper functionality. Same goes for Itunes - worst media player, ever, in my opinion. Its only saving grace is that you will probably stop using it sooner or later, because it simply cannot play a large percentage of audio and video formats. Go Steve Job! You cunning cock sucking piece of shit.

You know what I also really hate? People who defend corrupt politicians by comparing them to past politicians. I know Apartheid was evil, and the people behind it were fucking monsters, and I am honestly glad it is well behind us. I was a child during Apartheid, and never fully understood the events at the time. Now that I am politically aware, I can recognise a cunt when I see one, and there are a shitload to choose from, believe me. Because I signal out perennial soft target Manto, doesn't mean I am a racist, or am conveniently forgetting the past. She is the health minister in my country, and as a voter, I am sickened. If she was white, I would be equally as disgusted by her arrogance and her ignorance, as I am now. Just as the wage difference between a policeman and an MP is unbelievable and sickening, the reliance on government privileges that secured ailing and aging Manto an "evil western medicinal procedure" in the form of a liver transplant is sickening, as she promotes the use of nutrition to fight terminal diseases because let's not let the poor put too much pressure on the health budget. One law for rich and another for the poor. I'm sure Apartheid politicians did this all the time, but then our government is supposed to be the leading light of Africa, so really, their conduct should be better than the bunch of embezzling self serving Nazi cunts we had in the past.

You know what I also really hate? Religion. I have said it so many times before, but I need to mention it again. When a person tries to force their will upon another due to the belief in some sort of invisible force that cannot be scientifically explained... can someone explain the difference between this and delusional schizophrenia? Just because a load of people all agree, doesn't make it right. A lot of people agreed on Adolf Hitler you know. Case closed.

You know what I also really hate? People who are in no way self aware. Ok, I don't hate them, but they irritate the shit out of me, because we all have to make special allowances for "x" because they are in a mood, and are acting like the biggest cunt on earth. Then after they've chewed you out over something stupid and trivial, they will graciously forgive you with time, while never admitting why they were actually angry in the first place, and thus the cycle continues. Example A - "X" has had a fight with their partner, and now they are blaming the traffic, the slow service at the pub, and the fact that you don't like their favorite band, for ruining their lives. I have been guilty of this myself, but now I am a bit better, thanks to venting my rage through columns like this one.

You know what I also really hate? My lack of self confidence. I see so many successful things around me, that I am sure I could do better, until the time comes to actually do it, then I freeze up like a deer in the headlights. I still feel like that when I play gigs with my band, even though deep down I can see what I value in the music I make above a lot of other music, I often left feeling extremely insecure when I see other bands playing, even if I would normally dismiss them altogether as derivative or dull. I am a little better than I was, because I can actually get my stuff (be it music, writing, art) out there to a few people, and I can speak to people without being washed over by a wave of anxiety and feeling like they are all staring at me wondering when this insignificant little shit will stop wasting their time. Often I feel like I just want to scream in their faces, but when the time comes, I am always afraid. It makes me absolutely crazy.

You know what I also really hate? Flavours or variants of products that are removed from the market shortly after I have settled on them as my favorite. This happens all the time. Flavours of softdrink, brands of chocolate bars, flavours of Woolworths instant soup, brands of beer.....even items on restaurants menus.... If I wasn't so taken up with the concepts of "the real world" and "being sane" I would swear there was some conspiracy to make my life slightly more irritating. If I ever find the person responsible for the withdrawal of the grapefruit flavour of Just Juice, I will have strong words. Then I'll kill them. Then I'll eat their face.

I'm stopping here, because this is long enough already. I could keep going indefinitely, forgoing sustenance and sleep in lieu of the hate that would nourish me. I don't think it would be that emotionally healthy, and I am sure you are pretty bored at this point, if you are still reading. I promise next week's update will be funny, and full of the usual wit and drollery you are accustomed to. For now, just try to be positive. I am trying it too. My nose is bleeding, but I'm pressing on. Smell the flowers, take a bite of that apple, whistle a jolly tune. There is a lot to live for.

Natural resources

Presented unedited from May 2007, an old "gem" from Africans.


God only knows how fragile our earth is, and how each year we trundle closer to the inevitable cataclysmic shitfest that will see our cursed species wiped from the face of the planet, as a wad of 2-ply dislodges a tenacious winnet. We have our rain forests turned into grazing land to provide substandard beef for obese fuckers in the first world, while we pump pollution into our atmosphere and our oceans. It's a crying shame, and while the world weeps, business men cluster together and laugh, like a bunch of bloated ticks. If serving one's self is the agenda of the human race, then we are doomed, doomed, doomed, unless we can find some new source of food, energy, and living space.

I have identified a hitherto untapped, yet bounteous resource, in the form of the human parasites that live alongside us. Stupid people. People who are barely self aware, yet consume just as much and produce just as much waste as a regular person. People who step out into the street in front of oncoming traffic, because yes, their life is that valuable to them. People whose lives are only separated from those of cattle by their television and the ugly clothes they wear. They eat our food. They breathe our air. They soil our planet, and yet we do nothing. If our complacency is to be our downfall, then let it be reflected that I called for these bipedal flesh sacks to be expunged post haste, and as painfully as possible, because frankly my dear, they make me want to puke.

Should I venture into my local Checkers (on Kloof st) I am greeted by a full compliment of the stupid. They share far more in common with B-movie zombies than they do with thinking human beings, and they slowly drift through pointless lives, acting only on biological urges, rather than anything even a mile removed from an informed opinion. Looking into their eyes, I could swear I've seen more humanity in the eyes of teddy bears and Barbie dolls, and to enter into conversation with them is a fruitless endeavour with a similar effect to swallowing ipecac. We rid ourselves of pests like rats and mice, so why not idiots? They eat far more than tiny animals, and they are basically the hardened clay-like shit clogging up the bowels of a constipated society. Where is our laxative? Are we going to walk around in this state until the earth explodes or something?

I very much doubt it will happen in my lifetime, but I'd like to see the issuing of human licenses, with annual intelligence testing, a bit like renewing a car license, or having regular roadworthy checks. Stupid people would then be declassified, and downgraded to higher mammals. Imagine the possibilities for testing medicines - they have exactly the same biology as we do, but they have minds of pigeons! They could also fill a gap in the crash test dummy industry, be invaluable in clearing dangerous landmines, and best of all, they could be compacted into fossil fuel, and provide us with the very energy they steal from us watching their sport on TV.

Breaking a circuit is not a crime. Stepping on an ant is not a crime. Mowing a lawn is not a crime. What makes stupid people so fucking special? I guess they are pretty well represented in government, because when confronted with the choice between stupid party A and stupid party B, an intelligent person might weep, go postal, or spoil their ballot, whereas a stupid person will smile, mark their vote, because those lies are just as convincing this time around as all those past elections. Were they to be harvested for their meat, their existence would be far more acceptable, but as it stands, the whole scenario is a headache for every person with a functional brain.

As a little addendum to this piece, I just witnessed a car accident from my office window, caused by stupid people. A taxi driver failed to stop at a red light, and ran into a speeding Audi, driven by 2 stupid employees of the nearby Audi garage. As the injured lay on the grass verge while a stupid policeman secured the area with a plastic ribbon. I was left with a feeling of regret that some of those hurt might be intelligent human beings, and the injustice of the whole debacle. How much hurt have stupid people caused? Isn't it time to say "enough is enough!" and say it emphatically. I would like my next pair of leather shoes to be made from stupid hyde, rather than that of a cow, because I believe deep down in my heart that it is the ethical choice.

I think the bottom line is - when does an animal become a person, and vice versa. We feed, clothe, and care for idiots, and all they give back is irresponsible living and mountains of excrement. Isn't it time to take back the planet? Warm yourselves by burning fools, not wood, and use their mushed organs as fertiliser for your garden. They owe us, and the time to collect has arrived.

National exchange - Strippers for streetkids

Presented unchanged. for your enjoyment is one of my first Africans stories from May 2005.


With global trade booming like never before, and all sorts of trade links being established with countries that were considered our enemies less than 20 years ago, we should see some sort of benefit of all this for the inhabitants of Cape Town, and South Africa in general. Based on the student exchange program, I've been bouncing some ideas around with friends, and have arrived at the flawless plan of exchanging our homeless children for Russian strippers.

I know there are already many eastern European strippers working in South Africa, so just think how many we could bring over if we ran a government sponsored program! The way I see it, it's also a fantastic opportunity for our glue sniffing little ragamuffins to get out of the gutters, and see some of the world. There must be many Russian factories that could use thousands of tiny hands to service their antiquated machinery and whatnot, and there could be an incentive program for them to see their tasks through to completion, rewarding efficient work with potatoes, and laziness with near fatal thrashings. The factory dorms provided would also seem like a welcome change to sleeping huddled in a doorway, which would be quite impossible in Russia anyway, unless one was planning a one way trip to Deathbyexposureville. I can just imagine the sense of pride and identity a runaway boy might get from being a valued member of the workforce, rather than perpetually hungry substance abusing petty thief who would only draw scorn and general suspicion from the working populace.

It may be a tricky program to get off the ground, initially, as the children we would target for exporting may believe they'd prefer to stay, living wild and free on the sun drenched streets of Cape Town, rather than earning their keep in subzero temperatures, on the other side of the planet. I would think that a first batch may have to be coaxed into going, so we could let their positive feedback persuade others to enter the program, although I would certainly not want to hold any child against their will, and no burly thugs carrying sacks and clubs would be employed to round up children off the streets, or pay desperately poor parents for offspring they couldn't support, and I would under no circumstances whatsoever, even entertain the heinous idea of holding a fair for the underprivileged, giving them soda laced with sleeping pills, and bunging the unconscious into the hold of some ship bound for Russia, giving strict instructions to the Captain that any trouble makers be hurled overboard without question. All these things have never even crossed my mind, and at no point during the conception stages of this entire venture, was I sitting at an elaborate Victorian writing desk, stroking my powdered wig with hands clad in fingerless gloves, and cackling to myself. The whole mental image is quite preposterous.


Once the first batch has been posted, pardon my use of that word, but I come from a long line of people who liked to post things, supervisors would be on site, to mark the progress of our young pioneers, and take down any comments or suggestions they might make. For instance, if the first batch were set to work at a munitions factory, in an environment where accidental amputation of limbs is the norm, their request for styles of false leg, and the type of coffin (cardboard or Styrofoam) would be noted, and considered. The happiness of these children would amongst the fifty most important concerns of the program, and anything that would make their time abroad more enjoyable would certainly be taken down somewhere.

The impression one might get at this point, is that South African children might be exploited by such an initiative, but I must insist that there would be a myriad of opportunities for them, that they would never get, living on our streets. No child is going to learn a trade by panhandling, but there are any number of valuable skills one may learn from shoveling phosphorous, mining salt, burying plague victims, digging mass graves, carrying railway sleepers, or any of the other important professions our kids might undertake. I very much doubt that weeks on end sniffing glue and pick pocketing tourists would teach a youngster the correct way to knot a tourniquet to staunch heavy bloodflow, or to chip away the frostbitten section of a hand to prevent gangrene. When they return (after their 6, 9, or 12 year stint) they will have grown up, and will be able to enter our workforce with pride, and bringing with them the dedication and survival skills that they've learnt. I shouldn't wonder if many of them choose to remain in Russia after their tenure is up, having fallen in love with the place, made lifelong friends there, and of course being unable to afford return passage, but where there is a will, there is a way, and with Russia being one of Earth's developing economies, there is always an extra rubel to be made for that special wagon train ticket.

I've been quite focused on one side of the program, and allow me to put this right by talking a bit about the life I envision for the lucky exotic dancers who make it to our sunny shores. They would be granted work permits, and allowed to pursue their passion of dancing naked for the titillation of overweight, visually displeasing, middle aged men, in a climate where an uncovered nose today, means no nose tomorrow, against the backdrop of natural beauty. They would be welcomed with opened arms at our airports, and an agency could be established to place them in a string of government sponsored strip bars, that would replace the cities' unsightly homeless shelters. There would be multiple benefits, as such establishments would raise the class of an area, go some way to prevent the terrible spate of injuries caused by falling off step ladders whilst standing on tiptoe to catch a glimpse of the neighbour's wife in the shower, and of course provide employment for any remaining streetkids, who could carry trays of drinks, buff table tops, and feed the obligatory python that these sort of acts usually feature.

Should such an initiative be instituted by the state, we would see the results promptly, not only on the cleaner, safer streets, but in the many new and exciting night spots around town, where one might sip a glass of wine and watch a beautiful woman dance, happy in the knowledge that one of the less fortunate members of our society is working 16-20 hours a day to make sure she stays, and is been given a hand up and a bed of straw at the same time.

Guidelines for optimising a social event regarding fun, the having of.

I don't often host parties, and when I do, I am usually consumed with gnawing anxiety about my guests' experience. It cuts me deeply that I only live in a small house which can accommodate but a handful of the guests I would like to invite. However, I would like to make any party/event/shindig/hootenanny/wingding memorable and fun for all involved.

Most people would just say provide a buttload of booze and let everyone get hammered, but I have been to enough failed soirees to know that things don't always work out. In my opinion, a well supervised party will be a successful party – everyone will have a smashing time and leave with fond memories.

In an effort to facilitate such at time, and for future events, I have compiled a list of non-negotiable party rules. Enjoy! (That is not a request)

1. No longer than 5 minutes in the toilet at a time - remember that you are not the only guest and the facilities are here to be used by all.

2. Conversation shall be made only about fun, good times, and entertainment related topics. We're here to enjoy ourselves and not worry about poor people, catholics, pollution, or animal rights.

3. Avoid dwelling on the past. It is worth mentioning that dwelling exclusively on good times is expressly forbidden. This brings about the inevitable comparison between previous good times (tempered with nostalgia) and the current good time and inevitably the past wins ("Ooh ooh, at the last party I went to I wasn't beaten on the soles of my feet blah blah blah"). Another side effect of this nostalgia is the possible sudden realisation that compared to the idylls of youth, one's life is now a big bucket of shit, and this leads to sadness and bad times, so STOP IT.

4. The music has been carefully selected for the enjoyment of all guests, but it is possible that a tune or two may not please everybody. There are two courses of action open to you, if you find yourself in this position. Smile and pretend you like it, or start dancing until you grow to like it.

5. Don't hog the crisps - everyone is allocated 3 moderate handfuls, so any Greedy Gerties will be asked to leave.

6. No displays of sad/serious emotions - When people have fun, they don't want to hear about a terminally ill relative or how depressed you are. Smile, chuckle, and laugh as much as you want, but if you frown, I'll turn that frown upside down as I push your sad face into the toilet so you can flush away your tears.

7. Don't hover in the kitchen if the dancing area/lounge is empty. Nobody has fun in the kitchen unless it is impromptu intercourse on the kitchen table. If you insist on hanging around in the kitchen, I will leave a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, so you can keep yourself busy until you feel up to rejoining the revelry.

8. The limits of madness. It's great to have a little zaniness at a party, but things will go badly for everyone if anyone puts even a skin flake over the line I've drawn in my mind. An occasional yell of "Let's paaarty!" or donning a paper hat and blowing a party whistle are acceptable, but hiding my shoes as a prank is not. Too much craziness and I'll be forced to throw you out through the gate, so your body comes out in fat meaty slices on the other side like some old cartoon. How will you update your Facebook status when bergies devour your remains?

9. Don't leave too early or too late. Everyone hates it when some buzzkill leaves an hour after the second guest arrives, because they have to go home and floss their arse or tend to their bonsai or whatever it is boring people do with their time. Just hang loose, grab a brewski, and rhythmically sway to the sound coming out the hi-fi. If you are still in the house several days after the last guest departed, it is time to leave, unless you have signed a contract to serve as either my butler or bodyguard.

10. Just have fun! That's why we're all here, after all. Just make sure you don't smile too much, or smile insincerely, because that makes people ill at ease which will spoil the atmos. If you can't help yourself, please hide your face until the malady passes or you perish from starvation.

Be safe! Part three

More crimes and how to avoid being a victim! I'm too ill to write a witty intro…see part one and part two.

5. Riding the gravy train
If there is a single crime symptomatic of the disgusting moral decline of our society, it is the revolting youthful trend euphemistically dubbed riding the gravy train. Today's degenerate youngsters are not simply content with picking pockets, writing filthy slogans on walls, or scrumping for apples. They want to rot our society from the inside and laugh as we see our hard won values fall. Then they want to piss in our faces.

This trend involves boys and girls, sometimes as young as 4, seducing older men in respected positions of power in order to publicly humiliate them. How many amongst us know a trusted uncle, a kindly old teacher, or even a beloved parish priest, robbed of their dignity with a slickly acted charade? These children can turn their tears on like a tap, and they have no qualms about using their bodies like credit cards to arouse a naïve old chap, tease him, titillate him, and then pop the cork ride the gravy train! Then it's off to brag to their sick little gang about silly, red faced Father So-and-so, and how easily this lonely old man was bullied into unwilling buggery. For shame!

Even though this doesn't affect all of us, it is a good idea to make sure that old men in positions of authority are given our unwavering trust no matter what. It is the whittling of this trust, and ultimately the destruction of the pillars of our collective decency, that these youngsters want. If you know such a man who is accused of inappropriate behaviour by some deviant young person, we all know very well that the only crime they're probably guilty of is caring too much.

6. Identity theft
With the advent of passports, computers and credit cards, proving that we are who we claim has become very important indeed. In olden times when there were fewer names and people were generally of a better quality, any confusion over which of one the village's ten Florians owed you a goat could easily be settled over a flagon of cider and a nice chat. Where have those days gone?

Identity thieves are basically out there to steal your life, but unlike the common killer, they don't always leave you for dead. The methods vary, depending on the skill and criminal imagination of the thief. I heard of one trickster waylaying a man, tying him up, taking his jacket, and merely holding a photograph of the victim's face over his own. He then went to the victim's home and shouted to the family from outdoors that they were all to play hide and seek – they only saw him fleetingly through the front window and nothing seemed amiss. While they hid, the thief emptied the house. How's that for a fuck you dressed as a good afternoon kiss?

These cases unfortunately aren't always that innocent. I read about an incident in which a slim thief actually killed a rotund gentleman and wore his carcass as a suit to fool family and friends. He lived in the victim's house for a fortnight, until all the family's savings had been electronically transferred to an offshore account. He then fled, leaving nothing but a well dressed carcass rotting on the couch.

Identity protection is just not as easy as protecting a chest of gold or a flock of sheep. It takes brains as well as cutlasses or dogs. First thing is to get easily identifiable scars or tattoos – do this today! Then you should develop a series of code words to use with your family and closest friends. If someone wears your severed face over their own, you and your family could be fucked, until your wife realises you haven't said "…of course my own urine is far sweeter…" for more than five minutes. Bam! A twelve gauge pelvic massage for the great pretender and your family fortune remains untouched by criminal (and probably foreign) hands.

That's it for now folks. I'll be back next week with more ways to help you live longer in this fetid swamp of human evil we call home.

Be safe! Part two

My friends, my friends: please forgive me! I've been existing in a new-home inspired funk recently, and I've not had the time or energy to put fleshy digit to hard plastic and continue my safety tips I started in Be Safe! part one.

But enough about me and my problems. It's a fucking jungle out there – a concrete jungle full of law breaking animals who want to steal your shoes and violate your corpse. Want to survive? Read on – these crimes are real and could happen to anyone, hint hint.

3. Fishing scams
As if this country wasn't sick enough already, low life criminal scum have resorted to robbing fishermen of their haul, in many cases leaving them unable to feed their families.

The scam is simple – a group of bandits, either disguised as traveling jesters or fortune tellers, hail a hapless fisherman as he returns home with his catch. They pretend that their cart has a broken wheel, and implore the man to help them repair it. While the good natured fellow sweats away, trying to fix the problem, a member of the group steals his fish and replaces them with wrapped wads of human feces. Once the wheel is fixed, the group thanks the man, and he returns to his home. Only then does he discover his smelly cargo, and the miscreants are long gone!

In order to avoid being duped in this way, simply never stop to help gypsies, clowns, fortune tellers, jugglers, bear baiters, or anyone who looks like they work in a carnival. Since it's 2010, these people should stick out like a sore thumb, but you'd be surprised how many idiots fall for this sort of thing.

4. Driveway robberies
In my last update I wrote about smash and grab attacks that employed enormous primates to empty houses. This week the hot potato is driveway robberies, in which a largish group, or horde, if you will, of savage barbarians literally charge up the victim's driveway with a battering ram and smash down their garage door.

Once they have gained access to the main house, the horde will go on a rampage, stealing silver, slaves, and gold, until their lust for conquest has been sated and they give thanks to Odin, usually by way of animal sacrifice (or the youngest child in the house, if they don't have pets). They then return to their longships (often moored on the Liesbeek River) and head back to their frozen northern wasteland, where the slaves are set to work preparing lavish banquets and serving mead in cups made from animal horns and human skulls.

A fancy alarm system won't really help you if you're being charged down by some lunatic wearing animal furs and carrying a battle axe, so in this case, the best form of defense is definitely an offense. Dig pit traps in your garden and line them with spikes. Construct elaborate and impractical boobytraps that pulp invaders with a giant hammer, and always remember to keep a huge cauldron of oil simmering just above your driveway door. Owning a handgun might also help.

Until next time, keep a calm head on your shoulders, and keep 'em peeled – crime never sleeps and usually only holidays in Spring, to save money before peak season rates kick in.

Be safe! Part one

Hello, and welcome to the weekend! Before you throw on your hip "threads" and penetrate the night, I would urge you to take a few moments to read this article, as it contains some warnings about alarming new crime trends in South Africa.


Ever since the ANC took over, crime has soared like a majestic bird with limited literacy and the gauche tastes that accompanies new money. While the quality of police has declined steadily, wily criminals are coming up with inventive new ways of stealing our money, murdering our bodies, and raping our dead bodies every single day.


In order to do my bit in stemming this tsunami of a thousand Satans, I've prepared a list of new criminal acts to guard yourself against. I will post a few each week.


1. Credit card skimming
This might not sound that serious, but I have a friend who lost an eye and a wallet in a credit card skimming attack. What happens here is that the villain (usually a rogue carnie or traveling magician well versed in card throwing) uses his skills to flick a hard plastic credit card into the face of his victim.


Disorientated, the victim stumbles blindly, while the miscreant uses either chloroform or Haitian zombie powder to subdue them. The best possible outcome is robbery, and the worst is a wretched life of slavery and the total destruction of self.


The only defense against such attacks (other than the constant protection of flight goggles) is to develop the ancient Ninja skill of 'arrow cutting'. This is when you develop reflexes fast enough to simply pluck any oncoming missile from the air and hurl it back at your assailant at twice the speed. It sounds like a lot of work, but it is well worth the effort.


2. Smash and grab attacks
Since the advent of the door, and centuries later, the Trellidor, thieves have had to rely on their climbing or lockpicking skills to gain entry to your home or shop. Add burglar bars to the equation, and your home was virtually impenetrable. Sadly this is no longer the case, and a new terror is sweeping our streets, but not in a good way.


The typical smash and grab attack is usually carried out by one or two fiends, and an accompanying giant mountain gorilla. The gorilla uses its enormous size and strength to literally smash down the walls of your home or tear off the roof, while the thieves scuttle inside and fill their swag sacks to bursting point. Like so many roaches, and one giant ape.


Unless your premises are guarded by a reptile equal or greater in size to the marauding ape, there is simply no defense against this sort of attack. I heard of one man who took on such a beast with an axe, and had both legs torn off within seconds. The creature then crushed his two young sons into a meaty paste and smeared him with it as he lay dying. Nasty business.


To be continued next week.

'Funny' jokes for unfortuneate times

Reading the papers is so depressing these days that by the end of page 6, I've wept enough to render the entire sports section soggy and unreadable. It's not really much of a loss, because I don't care for sport, and frankly a lot of what is written in papers these days is a fucking joke anyway. Between the woes of the poor, the victims of crime, and the revolutionaries now sucking cock for overseas investment, South Africa must look to the world like that hot girl you see from behind at a party who turns around to reveal she has a hairlip and Bell's palsy. Also, she's a raving kleptomaniac with a drug problem, so you need to count the spoons after she leaves. Lucky for us she got her come uppance on the way home, because she was raped by a group of young men for wearing a short skirt and this is a man's Africa (they have the cock scars to prove it, thank you very much). Thankfully she will recover as she wasn't nearly as badly beaten as refugees fleeing civil war and starvation....this was all going to be a preamble to a few jokes I wrote myself, so yeah....here they are. Have a laugh.....just say "ha" over and over again. Apparently you simply cannot fail.

1. A 20 something blonde walked into a sweetshop and she asked the shopkeeper for a large bag of toffees. He smile politely and asked what flavour she wanted. She replied that any normal flavour would suffice, as they were for her troublesome 10 year old nephew who wouldn't shut up with these stories about inappropriate touching by his uncle. Alarmed, the shopkeeper asked her if she had investigated her nephew's claims, but she just laughed and said he makes up stories all the time.

Two days later the shopkeeper picked up the community newspaper and read that a local man had been arrested for molesting a number of children over a period of years. He wondered whether this was connected to his customer from days before.

"Why do they always try to silence them with sweets?" he thought to himself, while wiping down his counter, "Surgical tape, or even a small incision in the spinal column works so much better. I'm glad that rank amateur is out of the picture."

2. A man went to the doctor's office to ask for a double dose of Viagra. The doctor told him that he couldn't allow him a double dose.

'Why not?' asked the man.

'Because it's not safe,' replied the doctor, 'It puts a lot of pressure on your heart.'

'But I need it really bad,' said the man.

'Well, why do you need it so badly?' asked the doctor.

The man said, 'My girlfriend is coming into town on Friday; my ex-wife will be here on Saturday; and my wife is coming home on Sunday. Can't you see? I must have a double dose.'

The doctor finally relented saying, 'Okay, I'll give it to you, but you have to come in on Monday morning so that I can check you to see if there are any side effects.'

Later that night the doctor was on shift in casualty, when the very same man was wheeled in, looking pale and sick.

'Oh dear lord!' exclaimed the doctor, 'Did you have a heart attack?'

'No,' the man muttered feebly, 'I'm a very lonely man, and I don't actually have a wife or a girlfriend. I took the Viagra and picked up a hooker, but she waited till I was naked, and then she stabbed me 3 times in the genitals with a switchblade.'

'Someone take this guy away!' gasped the doctor, doubled over with laughter, 'If I picture this sad cunt being stabbed in the balls, I am just going to puke from laughing!"

3. A typical macho man married typical good-looking lady and after the wedding, he laid down the following rules: "I'll be home when I want, if I want and at what time I want and I don't expect any hassle from you. I expect a great dinner to be on the table unless I tell you that I won't be home for dinner. I'll go hunting, fishing, boozing and card-playing when I want with my old buddies and don't you give me a hard time about it. Those are my rules. Any comments?"

His new bride said, "No, that's fine with me. Just understand that there will be sex here at seven o'clock every night . whether you're here or not."

With a grunt of rage, the husband struck his wife a mighty blow to her face, sending teeth and a spray of blood flying. He relentlessly beat her through screaming, crying, and finally rattled gasps. He swigged Jack Daniels (a wedding present from one of his boozing buddies) as he watched his young wife die in front of him.

Later that day, after a few more bottles of hard liquor, he hanged himself, overcome with remorse at his unforgivable crime.

4. A southern American white supremacist dies in a car accident (he was drunk at the wheel) and he finds himself at the pearly gates, confronted by St Peter, who puts on some spectacles and asks him a few questions from a clipboard.

'So Norman St.Claire, do you feel you lead a blameless life?'

Without hesitation Norman nodded in agreement. St Peter smiled and wrote something down on his clipboard.

'What would be your crowning achievement in your mortal lifetime, Norman?'

Norman thought for a bit, and finally said 'Well sir, I guess it had to be the time that I hid in some bushes down by the river and shot that nigger kid. Police arrested his own uncle for it! Yeeehaw!'

St Peter covered his hand with his mouth, composed himself, and continued: 'How would you say you glorified the Lord during your living years, Norman?'

Norman rattled off various stories of preventing black people from attending his church, throwing stones at a doctor emerging from an abortion clinic, and beating up a gay youth at a bar, while St Peter closed his eyes and once again cupped his mouth with his hand and remained silent.

'What would you consider the lowest point of your living years?' asked St Peter, his cheeks glowing red.

'Well sir', began Norman, preparing to unleash the story of how he drunkenly shoved his aged mother down the stairs, only to be interrupted by a peal of laughter from St Peter.

'Oh, ho ho ho ho, Jesus, I can't do this anymore.....I'm sorry you guys.....just look at his face!' guffawed St Peter, as Norman stood aghast, while several angelic figures appeared from thin air around him, also chortling with merriment.

Norman realised something was wrong, and began to speak, when St Peter silenced him with the wave of a hand.

'Did you think for even a second that a pathetic, bigoted, ignorant animal like yourself would be allowed in Heaven?' asked St Peter, looking stern, 'The 10 commandments are core of the bible - everything else is just background. Anyone who believes otherwise is obviously retarded, or a heretic. When you chose to hate and act upon your hate, you effectively spat in God's face. I hope you enjoy Hell, motherfucker.'

He then cast him screaming into Hell, where he would suffer for eternity, because of his bad attitude and right wing beliefs.

5. Why was the pirate barred from seeing The Exorcist? He wasn't, and during the film he slit another patron's throat, smoked a pipe, and left pieces of salted fish scattered across several rows. The cinema was successfully sued, and the duty manager was jailed for 3 years. In jail he developed the heroin addiction that ultimately ended his life some 6 years later.

6. A man has six children and is very proud of his achievement. He is so proud of himself, that he starts calling his wife, "Mother of Six" in spite of her objections. One night, they go to a party. The man decides that it's time to go home and wants to find out if his wife is ready to leave as well. He shouts at the top of his voice, "Shall we go home 'Mother of Six?' His wife, irritated by her husband's lack of discretion, shouts right back, "Anytime you're ready, Father of Four."

A deathly silence fell over the party, and the couple left amidst stares of pity and contempt. On the way home, the wife wept, and confessed that she had repeatedly cheated on her husband, and in reality, he was probably only father of two out of the six children. He yelled at her and didn't speak to her for a week, but eventually he forgave her.

They lived adequately ever after - her affairs continuing, and his self worth eroded to the point that he barely had the courage to make the smallest decision, and every day was a trial in which the thought of suicide seemed like winning the lottery.

7. Knock knock!

Who's there?

Please Madam, I'm Simon and I come from Burundi - I have had nothing to eat for four days. I walked most of the way from George to Cape Town. Please sir, if you could spare any change or a little food....

Simon! My good man! Come in immediately! You look so cold and hungry - sit down at the kitchen table and I shall make you a sandwhich. It must have been a superhuman undertaking to get all the way from Burundi to our fair city. Here you go! I hope you like roast beef!

Thank you so much Madam! All I heard were stories of how people here don't want foreigners here....

Oh Simon, how could that be? We have plenty here, and it would be a crime not help a starving man. Those stories must have been fabrications, because the ten commandments cleary state to love one's neighbour, and over eighty percent of our population are christian! This is a land of love and tolerance!

Thank you thank you thank you madam! I shall spread the word that truly there is a sanctury for the lost, weak, and frightened and our troubled continent.

Well, there you go. You can stop saying "ha" now. I hope this has started off your day with a zing, and that this article sets the tone for your entire weekend. "Have a drink on me!" to quote Brian Johnson, and a big thank you to YTAH for some of the amusing pictures I've put up to distract you from the ghastly outpourings of my blackened, bitter heart.

Factual enrichment part 2

I'd rather not leave everyone down from my whining about my putrid problems, so here is part two of my fact list. Enjoy the feeling of your head being engorged with knowledge, and use it as your shield when facing the world, the way ignorant people use god, and that fat racist thief, Julius Malema uses poor people.

12. Turkey has the largest subterranean cave network of any country on earth, stretching over 1200kms, and able to house the entire population 3 times over.

13. Pet cats are responsible for the highest percentage of pet owner's deaths, followed by dogs, with snakes and rabbits in third place. Statistically, the safest pet to own is a cricket.

14. Rapper Snoop Dogg spent 1991-1993 performing under 12 different names, including Killer Kalvin, Doggz Body MC, Broadus Sholdaz, MC Heartplug, and Snoopy G-Buster, until he settled on his now famous moniker.

15. Liquidised maggots are the same consistency as hen's egg whites, but with 3 times the protein, and are used extensively in Japan, parts of China, and parts of Korea in all baked goods.

16. Pink Floyd guitarist David Gilmore played the longest guitar solo in history on 22 June 1971 in an outdoor concert in London. Lasting for 6 hours 12 minutes, Gilmore wore a catheter and colostomy bag for the duration, and had a roadie feed him a roast beef and mustard baguette after the first 2 hours. The rest of the band played for 90 minutes, and were then replaced by session musicians and members of Hawkwind, Camel, and the drummer from the Moody Blues.

17. There are currently more computer mice on earth than there are real mice.

18. The collective population of America outweighs the collective population of India, even though there are less than a third as many people.

19. The original historical Jesus Christ was actually a carpenter, although he specialised in erotic furniture. He married a woman called Mary, and had 3 sons and 1 daughter. He never incited revolution although he was an outspoken activist who opposed Roman taxes and brutality. Towards the end of his life he spearheaded an organistion of Jews who experimented with hallucinogenic plants and astral projection.

20. Between 40 and 60 people every year die when they rupture cranial blood vessels during violent sneezing.

Your head is fat now? Your head couldn't eat any more? Well maybe? Just a little one......just a little one for desert......something sweet and chocolaty....mmmmmmmm. Oh alright then.

21. Last year a bible verse was found on the inside of a duck's egg by a farmer in Texas. It was claimed to be a miracle until experts discovered 3 misspellings and the word "sucker" at the end of the last sentence. It was immediately condemned as a hoax and the farmer was fined $200000 which bankrupted him.

Kak Thursday

It's been one of those weeks that make one want to throw all caution to the wind and swallow an entire bucket full of painkillers. I am moving house in six days, so my stress level won't dip for at least a fortnight (or longer), and I am simply not able to deflect every lump of shit life throws in my face no matter how fast I dance. Being white, I can't dance that well, so next time you see me, you'd be forgiven for mistaking me for a giant turd.

I woke up today and reality was my enemy – one of those days when succumbing to consciousness means facing a shitstorm. Add a hangover and a deep sense of wrong, and you have my Thursday. Spend the rest of the day doing mindlessly dull work and painfully dissecting a drunken screaming match with my girlfriend, and it all seems rather pointless.

It's crazy how a few minutes of insult hurling can shatter an optimistic outlook and make one question everything. Yesterday at 8pm I was feeling carefree, if slightly detached, and by 10pm I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that things are never as good as you think they are, your world can turn to shit in seconds, and you aren't actually as skilled at repairing damages as you may have thought.

One thing is certain – moving house makes me wish I was dead far more frequently than usual.

Opening argument

Hello and welcome to Pinvictor's fortress of facts. I started this blog to entertain, educate, and express myself like some word slinging fancyman. If you want to learn something, and occasionally enjoy a wry chuckle at life's little quirks, then check back here on a regular basis, and I give you my solemn promise that you will not be disappointed.

I used to write for a satirical site called Africans, which has sadly curled up and died, and I shall be retroactively picking up where I left off. By that I mean I will be supplementing new content with some of my best old pieces from Afs.

All I ask of you is that you return regularly, treat my opinions like they're the word of God, purchase anything If I start selling stuff, and of course recommend this blog to all your friends.

For a taster, here is part of a factual post I researched for Africans. Please enjoy them (a gentleman never demands, even if he is holding the riding crop).

1. In 1015AD a farmer in what is now Sussex grew the world's largest pumpkin, measuring 25 metres in diameter. Scholars of the time declared it an abomination, and decided that only God himself could destroy it. They built a scaffold (the largest man made structure on earth until 1792) to take the pumpkin to heaven, but had to stop when they got outside the earth's gravitational pull and workmen and tools floated away. They launched the pumpkin into space, where it began to collect space debris as it circled the earth. Cut to present day - we now call that infamous pumpkin "the moon"!

2. For a decade, scientists have been trying to distill a usable fuel from human hair, but have thus far failed. The problem with the hair based fuel is that it burns far hotter than regular fuel and would cause cars and other machines to move up to 4 times faster, creating havoc on the roads, and chaos in laboratories.

3. Rock guitarist Richie Sambora (of Bon Jovi) has the largest collection of Hummel figurines in the united states, and owns a custom set (in a specially made diorama) depicting the WW2 allies advancing on Berlin and Hitler's last hours in his bunker.

4. A prototype of the roller-skate saw the wearer wrapping their feet in rags soaked in warm lard, and "skating" across smooth surfaces. It was proposed that lard skate rinks be massive slabs of highly polished marble, with sound systems that played a mix of acoustic blues and light classics.

5. India is the world's largest supplier of Bibles - even though a mere 2% of the population admit to being practicing christians.

6. Film star Tom Cruise has a miniature pyramid inside his Hollywood mansion. It contains solid gold coffins for him, his wife, and his daughter Suri, so (according to his beliefs) they may ascend to the realm of Xenu unhindered by attacks from the malevolent alien race called the Freudax.

7. The world's largest cheese sculpture was a 20 foot high rendition of Christ on the cross, created in Dublin in 1918. It was to be entered in the Guinness Book of World Records, but was disqualified at the last minute when the bodies of 2 urchins were discovered in the chest cavity of Christ, meaning that the work consisted of less than 95% cheese, making it fall outside the category of single substance structures. Accusations of fraud were dropped when it was revealed that the hungry urchins had snuck into the studio where the sculpture was made and had inadvertently fallen into the vat of molten cheese.

8. Actor Marlon Brando ate his own weight in fudge in 1989, and 2 years later in 1991, he ate his own weight in mustard.

9. By the year 2040, the sun will have become so hot that it will be able to cook a raw egg in under a minute, and human beings will have to wear space suits filled with cooled water to survive. All trees will combust, and in order to survive, mankind will need to replace all forests and fields with vast stretches of asbestos.

10. New Jersey boasts the only MacDonald's fast food restaurant that is staffed entirely by blind people. The kitchen operates in total darkness, and all the kitchen staff work naked save for their aprons. For the sake of hygiene, a specialist barber daily removes all of their body hair.

11. A "clannissud" was a leather covered club -like medieval device used to dispel evil spirits believed to be hiding in urchins and beggars. The possessed mendicant was struck hard on either side of the neck, and then struck repeatedly in the mouth until the hiding demon was expelled along with phlegm, blood, and teeth. The newly saved person would then be carried to hallowed ground and tethered to a large stone or tree to prevent re-possession. After a week, it was considered safe to release them back into society.