Who’s your Daddy?


So, anyway, I was having tea the other day (as one does) with a certain unnamed source at Nkandla (lovingly refurbished and upgraded by you, the caring taxpayer) and during the course of the conversation, we got on to the topic of how hard and boring it is to be the man at the top (as one does), how no one really respects me anymore, as it were and that I feel that I may have lost my purpose and/or moral compass.

It was decided that I needed to rediscover my sense of self, my well-being, my happiness.

And what does one do to make one’s self feel better?


You pick on someone and bully them!

The selection of the candidate was rather difficult, simply because we started at the end of the alphabet (ignoring the Z’s for obvious reasons) and randomly chose V, as one does, to avoid a lenghty debate over appropriateness.

And whose surname starts with a V?

Yes! V for Vavi!

I made some calls, but have since discovered that Brett Kebble is dead, China Dodovu has a prior engagement and Glynnis Breytenbach is no longer talking to me.

So we were left to spreading rumours and allegations, like high school girls at break time.

Things like financial irregularities, handshakes in darkened doorways, black bags of cash. None of which we have any evidence for, of course.

But now things have gotten out of hand. Completely.

What? No, this is all I got from awarding the tender.

This thing, this candle, or whatever it is, I found it in my desk drawer, ok?

Vavi is saying he knows who is out to get him. He is vowing to fight this fight, which fight is not really a fight, but rather a fight over who is the bigger boy on the playground.

At least in my opinion.

I have lost the joy again, that initial rush of happiness and now I need to do something else to make me feel better.

I know, I am going to do some therapy shopping. Nkandla needs a new tv room!



Changing Names – The Real Reasons – Conclusion (Part 3)


So there we have it:

The real reason why we change city, town and street names.

In a nutshell, as it were, I have tax payers money at my disposal. I need to spend it, but not on the opportunities listed previously.

Still with me?

To do so would defeat the object, namely my own.

You must however, understand that I still need to do something to show the masses that I/we are with them and what better way to do so by changing street names after people most of us have no clue who or what they are.

It is the fantastic diversionary tactic of honouring the so-called “Struggle Heroes”. And at the end of the day, people forget that they had to take a crap in the bushes, they forget that they have schooling till Grade 3, they forget that they are desperately ill, because once they tell others: “I took January Masilela into town this morning. You know, used to be Church street, now January Masilela. The struggle hero”, all is well with the world.


Finally, let the grand old Swazi King Mswati III be an example of what not to do. When faced with the opportunity of spending his voters’ money on changing street names or buying an aircraft, guess what he did?

He went with the plane.

Hey! Don’t touch me on my private jet! OK? Don’t touch me on my private jet!

And now? Now he has nowhere to park it.

Specifically not on January Masilela street!


Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 2) (B) Service Delivery


Right, let’s get back to the Name Changes game and the second reason as to why we do so: SERVICE DELIVERY.

Touchy subject.

This, son, is a multifaceted issue which needs to be navigated with a very good spokesperson by your side. preferably someone as thick-skinned and ignorant as Mr F Shivambu. Why? Because eventually someone’s “gonna get it in the neck” and it sure as … aint going to be me.

Now, let me get straight to the point:

Spending money on service delivery is dangerous!


Because it makes “them” used to a certain type of lifestyle, like enclosed flush toilets (See Democratic Alliance, Western Cape), running water and municipal waste collection. And once they are used to a certain lifestyle, as it were, they want a better one than the one they already have. And so on and so on, with the end result being that some idiot wants to move into the palace.

Which, obviously, is unacceptable!

Look! Look how dirty. First I have to poo in the bushes, then use the leaves to wipe. Ag sies man!

In any event I have a more important lifestyle to maintain and a much more expensive one at that, to be contributing tax payers money to the comfort of others.


That said, there is one very important exception to with holding service delivery and that, my son, is around election time. When touting for votes before elections (a completely unnecessary process in my case), it is useful to promise service delivery and then to very partially deliver on these promises. In other words, dig a few holes for latrines, mark out borders for housing and the such like. And once the elections are over, TADAAAA! all work can halt due to a “lack of funds from the community”. Works like a charm every time. Gets everybody in the same boat, as it were.

An added benefit of these silly promises is that you can put the jobs out to tender and have family members “win”. Ah yes, the tax payer has deep, deep pockets to pay for this frivolity. (If you know what I mean).

Lastly, on the issue of service delivery or the lack thereof, is that at some stage, it leads to protests, led by colonial rabble rousers. And this gives rise to?


An opportunity to flex one’s muscles in the form of a police action. Enter stage left, Mr Sebenza Whataboy Ditlopo (Lovely man).

That is all.


Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 2) A) HIV/AIDS


We previously started a discussion re: Changing city, town and street names and after giving you the reasons why we do it and which seem obvious, but are incorrect, I left you in suspense, as it were, as to the real reasons we do this.

You will, in all probability be offended by the actual factors, but life, my son, often offends.

It is an interesting point to note that the opposition is often the closest to the truth without even realising it. When ever the issue of name changes is brought up, they always end up pushing the same line:

“Why not spend the money that will be spent on name changes on issues like HIV/AIDS, service delivery and education”?

And therein, my son, lies the rub.

Firstly, and in the words of my previous incumbent (See Thabo Mbeki): “It is not clear as to whether HIV does in fact cause AIDS”. So why spend cash on an unproven scientific fact? You see my point? Why spend tax payer’s (read my) money on something when garlic and rhubarb will in all probability do the trick (See Mantombazana ‘Manto’ Edmie Tshabalala-Msimang).

RIP Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. The question is: Did she shower, or did she not!

RIP Manto Tshabalala-Msimang. The question is: Did she shower, or did she not!


(As an aside, just remember to take a shower after “the deed”. It worked for me).

Secondly and more to the point – we spend tax payer’s (see previous comment) money on HIV/AIDS and we save people’s lives. I know it is a fantastic PR opportunity in the short run, but in the long run what the AID (see “irony”) organisations do not tell you is that this causes a population explosion, which means more mouths to feed, more mouths to complain and more mouths to shut up!

And being a semi democratic (as it were) dictator, this is intolerable.

So, at the end of the day, my son, the first reason is all about manipulating the population, limiting the possibility of a growing opposition and keeping myself where I belong.

In power.

(Stay tuned for Part B)

Changing Names – The Real Reasons (Part 1)


Why change city, town and street names?

Not for the reasons you think, trust me.

It’s got nothing to do with remembering struggle heroes of twenty to thirty years ago. I mean who was Stanza Bopape in any event? Lilian Ngoyi? Sophie De Bruyn? And don’t cheat by googling them! Nobody knows who these people were, least of all me. And I run this place.

In any event, did the great King Tshwane ever exist? Who knows and really, who cares? He was not even a struggle hero (I may be wrong). Probably just some two-bit local cattle rustler, as it were. And I am not talking about Tshwane’s own King of Bling here!

So sorry I’m late, I got lost on the way into the city centre. I mean, where the hell does Stanza Bopape Drive go?

It has less to do with pissing off the minority opposition (but it is an added benefit). The fact that I run the show like my own personal fiefdom is enough to piss most people off, trust me. Changing street names alone to piss of the opposition is fun, but not reason enough.

No, the real reason is a lot darker, a lot more sinister, more shocking.

More self-serving!

The Art of Spanking


Now, I am a firm believer, an advocate if you will, of corporal punishment.

Why, you ask?

Well, I believe that a good beating refreshes the mind, provides clarity of thought, jogs the memory and for the smacker, it provides the satisfaction of a job well done!

When suspension is better than a smack!

I'm sorry, OK...very sorry. It will never happen again.

Understand, however, that I am not advocating random beatings. No! Rather I am a believer in sustained and regular spanking of those simple folk who refuse to toe the party line, those who refuse to “understand” and agree.

Of course, this could range from a mere smack to the back of the head to water boarding, as it were. It is, at the end of the day, up to the hand delivering the punishment to decide on the form and duration. (Another advantage of corporal punishment is that it allows one to be creative in one’s actions).


As the saying goes, spare the rod and spoil your dictatorship.

Gaddafi is Dead (and it is all his own fault)


Tut Tut.

Another idiot without an exit strategy.

How many times do I have to tell them:

Exit Strategy! Exit Strategy! Exit Strategy!!!!

Gaddafi was found in a drainage canal. Oh come on, seriously?

Saddam Hussein also had no exit strategy, but at least he was found in a “Spider Hole” hide out on a farm.

Colonel G, you in there, old boy?

Colonel G, you in there old boy? Helloooo?

A drainage canal is NOT an exit strategy.

I suppose Gaddafi was really the dumb boy on the playground then.