Don’t Need No Water Let the Muthaf*cka Burn

Recently there’s been quite a big number of young men losing their balls in my neighbourhood that it has become quite a task to update the Lost Balls register which I have been managing since 2000. They are now getting loony by the minute. It has become like a mortuary in Baghdad, they no longer count the heads but the bodies – bloated and limbs missing.

The point behind this post is the number of boys going loony and later messing society up because they get wild and horny. First we thought it was due to illicit drugs – well we thought so even though we have used drugs ourselves and we are still sane enough to spot a mad man from a psychiatrist. So, finally after exhausting marijuana, valium, cocaine, heroin, ecstasy, alcohol, mushrooms, mandrax, smack and friends we decided to put the blame on witches. Yeah, the ones celebrated on Harry Porter.

Since we ceased vigilante activity our neighbourhood has become quite a hive of witchcraft activity. There are more witches per square kilometre than shebeens. People at Zone One have gone loony, same as Zone Two and MaGraskop. We are not even going to mention Bafaladi, Dichochwaneng, GaBhani, Thabakgolo, Colombia, Kingston, Madjembeni, Mathule, Mandela Village, RDP, Violetbank, GaRelane, GaBereta, Mphenyatsatsi and Masakeng.

The blame finally falls on the plethora of witches who are roaming our streets and skies at night without any anti-witchcraft spaceship gun attempting to bring them down. They have upgraded from using loaves of bread, which makes it tricky these days since Albany sells them sliced and have resorted to broom sticks, cellphones and pot lids.

Now we were having a chat and some guy said we need to initiate an impromptu witch-hunt at least four times a year. All of us go to Mbuzini in many buses to a mngoma (witchdoctor) who will pick the witches amongst us and we expel them from our environs and incinerate their covens. Some guy said we will not succeed in a court of law because witch-hunting is a crime.

I reasoned that we will argue that the aim of the witch-hunting is not to assassinate people’s characters but what we will be doing is basically – in computer language a virus scan. We are only running the scan to target Drive C (community) and scan for viruses (witches), Trojans (tokoloshes), worms (evil spirits) and other bugs (covens).

After our Mbuzini virus scan the mngoma will ask us what to do with the people who have been identified as lethal to society. The mngoma will give us options – DELETE (REMOVE AND INCINERATE A COVEN), QUARANTINE (CHASE FROM THE VILLAGE) and IGNORE (ACT LIKE THE POPE).

In our case we shall choose DELETE, and chase the motherf*ckers out of our hood. And we might burn the house and yell in the tradition of American protest “don’t want no water let the muthafucka burn”

All Hail The King



As you can see on our poll on the side bar most visitors of this blog have prophecied that the Afrikan National Congress will emerge as the winner in last week's elections. It was foregone the minute food parcels, old age pension and social grants entered the fray as electioneering fodder.

Quite frankly that was bad politicking. I obvioulsy wouldn't have loved it if some cocky campaigner came to my hypertensioned granny and told her that she would lose her pension if she didn't vote ANC because my granny has been getting pension even when the Boers were the bosses. So, before they were kicked out of power they came to my granny and told her that if she doesn't keep them in power they will take away the pension. 15-years later she's still here and they are in Orania. So, these stupid sods who intimidate our grannies with threats of lost pensions must think twice - someday my granny will still be here and they will be dead.

Okay, the reason behind this post is to congratulate Uncle Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma as he prepares to ascend the hottest seat in South Afrikan politiks. It will be a seat hotter than Deborah Patta's one on 3rd Degree because he's going in almost alone. Some of those usual suspects who have every intention of uprooting the double header are remaining outside - you can count them, Tokyo Sexwale and Matthews Phosa. Come to think of Tokyo (the capital of Japan), who for a reason known to him and Mugabe does not want to use his other angelic name of Gabriel; he ran for president of the ANC against Thabo Mbeki and JZ and he now wants all of us to be convinced that he does not harbour presidential ambitions? Nigga please!

However from May 9th Uncle JZ will be the man in the West Wing, which made me feel pity for Uncle Kgalema when he was voting because not only was he voting the Double Head into office he was also voting himself out. And now the Nkandla Mafia (borrowed from Mail&Guardian) is coming. The machine gun is now fully in JZ's hands. And Aunt Helen (Zille) has retreated to her small Volkstaat called Wes Kaap where she will comfortably pee outside (oops, she's a woman she can't pee outside like some of us with Willies). Sorry Aunt.

May 9, is the day to diarise as all the supporters, including the Sopranos, Msholozi's own Biker Boys will be ushering him into Die Unie Gebou. And who said dreams can't come true? All Hail the King from Enkandla! Halala Msholozi Halala! Now let's deliver services and cut the bullshit.

National Scar Day? You must be Kidding

Some people just don't know how to f*ck and shut the f*ck up. They will be howling about it for the next six months, especially if the guy they screwed happens to appear frequently on television or in the newspapers. I will qualify my use of such crude language by telling you a very short interesting story (not a f*cking story).

Once upon a time in Mpumalanga was a girl that I liked. She was petite with that innocense that is dangerous when you are dealing with politicians. I use politicians because if someone can seduce 100 000 people, who the fuck do you think you are when left one-on-one with him in a room. He'll strip the kanga off your curvesous butt in a second and later plead culture.

So this girl that I liked happened to land a cushy job with a mayor - for real. She became his PA, which in some circles is defined as a sperm dish. So, if the mayor was going to China or Tibet she would be the chick arranging his meetings and stressing him and the driver of the cavalcade to rush to the next meeting. The thing about this girl was that she was not really as smart as some of the PAs I know. She was the type that would be charmed by a Butt Simpson tie on a Jeep shirt.

To cut a long story short - suspisions that the mayor was screwing started making rounds. You know when ghetto people want charges to stick on you they'll even use superglue on Teflon. So, this girl never really got to face a Truth Commission but she sold off the story in a conversation we had the other day. We were watching television in the corridor of some glitzy hotel waiting to be allocated our rooms. The show was from Reality TV and about scars. There was this sod who had scars all over he should have been nicknamed Scarbody, since calling him Scarface would have meant demeaning his trophies.

Then the PA chick just goes, 'you know, my boss also has so many scars on his lower back and belly which he says were inflicted when some assassins attempted to kill him five years ago. They are bloody scary'. You should have seen us suspisious beings exchanging glances and asking her what the occassion was? 'Uh-uh'. So we tried to help her out, 'Was it on National Scar Day whereby everybody shows somebody their scars?'. She looked at us with gross stupidity written all over her face.

It could have beena scoop for Riot Hlatswayo and Daily Sun but for us - well, we always knew the guy spend his cold nights stuck between those thighs, we just didn't know his body was an artwork - hahahaha.

Fare Thee Well, ex-Comrade Bob

One of the people I love to hate is Zimbabwean president Robert Mugabe. I hate him because his stubbornness has displaced millions of people. When a bird builds a nest it does so with the purpose of living in it, raising its offspring and one day dismantling it as it exodes for greener pastures. No bird ever builds a nest with the belief that some bigger bird will come and mess it up, let alone a human being coming to cut down the tree at which the nest is situated.

So, the reason why I dislike ex-Comrade Bob is that he caused the meltdown that has engulfed Zim for the past fourteen years. He has done so because he is power hungry. He needs all the power he can master to shrug off an investigation into the Gukurahundzvi of the 1980s whereby tens of thousands of isiNdebele speaking Zimbabweans were massacared for political expediency. Of course beloved Britain went on to confer a doctorate on Bob after that, showing that they don't give two farts about the lives of darkies.

But then I have also been wondering that; without the massacres that took place would the situation have been different? Like, would Mugabe have found it easy to hand over the reigns of power to someone more pragmatic? I hear from my intelligence sources that there's a dossier thicker than the one the NPA had on Jacob Zuma profiling the atrocities of the Mugabe regime and pinpointing the perpetrators in the Zim Central Intelligence Organisation, Zim Army, Police, Paramilitary and other security apparatus.

They say it's somewhere in Harare, waiting for the day the Mugabe jet flies out of Zim and never to return and then mass arrests will start. Of course the army generals will threaten a coup forgetting that it's the corporals who have to fight. The corporals, according to information I have, have lost appetite for violence. So, if Charles Taylor was never handed over to the ICJ by Nigeria two years ago, Uncle Bob would have retreated to Morningside (Sandton) and found asylum in the comfort of other dictators hiding in this leafy part of town.

Thus, before I tell you more politics than cornflakes here's a funny thought I had as I put on extra jerseys to combat the cold. What would happen if seasons were as stubborn as Mugabe? If when it's time for Summer to come Spring just decides to hang on a little bit longer and the rains pour down throught out the festive season? Wouldn't we complain? I guess we will. So, for my beloved-hated Uncle Robert, why can't he just act like Winter when Spring comes; just fade and allow others to show they can do better - maybe the same goes for the ANC - maybe not, hahaha!

PANDEMONIUM

Lora Croft and Xena

The truth is we are in the most interesting state of politics ever. 1994 election, history was made and no South African can forget that but this, this is the climax of politics. It depend how you take it, it’s either you laugh out loud or become sad about the state of our politics. For example, we’ve got a presidential candidate who trots under heavy cloud of corruption allegation, befriending convicted fraudsters, parties that have just been formed out of anger rather than principles, no less than six months claiming not only to win the election but to run the country successfully, with no reputation, history or strong leadership. Very comical, I mean, Christian parties claiming to run a country of so much cultural diversity and strong tradition in the name of Jesus; with minority white parties who reek of racism and failed dismally from the past election since 1994 but still think they can acquire some parliament seats, God forbid. We’ve got bishops running campaigns, political leaders seeking attention or spiritual intervention from churches; parties that lost their mission, vision and mandates but they still want to hold on in the name of struggle and history, how pathetic.

On that note I want to take off my hat for the ladies of politics on the fore front, Patricia De Lille of Independent Democrats and Helen Zille of Democratic Alliance. After I saw their fury on the nullification of Mr. Zuma’s charges and Mr. Shaik’s parole, I respected their involvement respectively. In an orgasmic confusion of political stature we are in these ladies in particular are up there stirring up the cauldron. They come like women super heroes, Lara Croft and Xena, in a male dominated industry, turning heads with their sense of style and fashion; making headlines by swimming with the sharks in terms of exposing and facing corruption leaders. Whether they are right or wrong it matters not the fact is, these ladies are braver than most of their male counterparts. I caught a glimpse of the two ladies on SABC prime time news, one in a blue classy made suit and the other in red, ganging up against the decision was made by the NPA. I smiled in solo when I watched them, thinking, it’s a pity they’ve got different political policies and views they can make a great team. How many of us remember that Mrs. Zille as an apartheid activist working for the Rand Daily Mail, she exposed the truth behind the death of Steve Biko and as for Patricia she was and still is in the investigation of the controversial arms deal that saw Mr. Yengeni charged and convicted. Don’t you just love it that inside this pandemonium of, Julius Malema, Zwezima Vavi, Leonard McCarthy, Bulelani Ngcuka, Jackie Selebi, Jecob Zuma, Bantu Holomisa, Shilowa and Lekota we have these two lovely, although controversial, ladies that brace politics with grace, dignity and confidence. We need more like them in Mzansi.

Lehlogonolo