67-Minutes My Foot

The funniest questions I fielded today (Monday) have been about what did I do with my installment of 67-minutes on Saturday. I could easily have said I spent it working a prostitute which I later tipped with double what she charged me.

But I know ladies of the night wouldn’t have adored me working that thing for 67-full minutes since no matter how hard I plunged, I would still end up without giving her an orgasm.
However it did cross my mind to spend my 67-minutes giving a whore its first transactional orgasm.

Instead I spent Saturday working, covering stories of people who were spending their 67-minutes doing something. I spent it with politicians and their friends (not Priests though), a bad combination. Yeah indeed they were ploughing derelict fields, donating food, blankets and toiletries, deweeding arid vegetable gardens, cleaning hospices and doing all the other stuff that they should do without Nelson Mandela’s birthday being the point of departure.

I mean these folks who get elected into political office by the masses should make time to do this kind of thing without playing for the camera. I can say I spent my day with hypocrites.

I tell you it was like an E-entertainment reality show for them and you know how it goes, with reality shows everyone from Kim Kardashian, Snoop Dogg, Kimora Simmons, Khanyi Mbau and all others are fucking playing to their own script. When the camera is rolling don’t lie to me that you are not acting.

So, my humble 67-minutes were not that beneficial to humanity. Covering stories is what I do for a living, giving stuff bought with government money is working for politicians, ploughing is working for everyone in a communal setting and they were there where they came from before the Benzes and Beemers.

Me, I give 67-minutes at least thrice every week. And I don’t call the media to record me doing it and don’t need the old man to turn 91 to do it. So, I aspire to leave that mark not on people’s t-shirts but on their hearts. Which is why I’m sort of cynical about this 67-minutes gimmick because those hordes of people who were performing at New York would not make time for the child with a face deformation who resides across the streets.

For all I know even the SABC will not cover the story of a girl who fell into a manhole. So, who’s giving what to whom and why? Think about it before you ask me that question.