The sacrifices that I make!

25/10/2013

In the light of Pravin Gordhan’s latest little money talk and given that next year is an election year, I have decided to heed his advice and do a few cut-backs myself.

Financially speaking of course.

So henceforth, as it were, all deliveries made to Nkandla (that bastion of freedom) containing purchases etc made at tax payers expense, shall be made to the gate and no longer to the front door.

The reason being is that the drive to the front door is long and thus a waste of petrol and tax payers’ hard earned cash.

 

You got to let me go to his front door. I have his DSTV magazine!

You got to let me go to his front door. I have his DSTV magazine!

 

So, there it is, Mr Gordhan, my bit for the financial stability of this country.

Please don’t ask more of me!

 

 


Who’s your Daddy?

06/03/2013

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?

Right!

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!