I was listening to Gatsha Buthelezi's speech earlier today on their manifesto. Okay, you caught me out. I wasn't really listening. Let's just it was playing in the background and I was too lazy to change channels. And there I was spending an hour of my life that I will never get back being being sensitized by the great one himself on how things will change and South Africa will be given back to the hands of the people. Let it be known that I am not overly eager on anything that lasts for an hour, with the exception of happy hour of course!
Rest assured that I believe that South African politicians are stark raving mad. And NO! I refuse to apologise for this statement comrade. Do know that I mean this with sincerity and reverence, for only the insane can keep up with our beautiful land's beautiful political minds. Aye! There's method to our madness.
Look out people, our streets are roaming with vagrants and vagabonds who belong in loony bins, and by vagrants I mean all political leaders. How brazen are they to stand in front of us and promise us a better South Africa? Ha!! Such insolence deserves a butt naked whip lash to the bone and marrow! Who wants a better South Africa? I know I don't. I want a South Africa where I can just buy my docket to go missing if ever the blood hounds in blue decide to arrest me on account of my lack of association with a member of the ruling party. I want the president to call for a commission of inquiry that will milk the taxpayers of millions of rands per year whenever a drunken prostitute is found dead in a brothel. Oh, and I want prostitution to be legal. It is, after all, the oldest profession ever. Check it, it's in the bible, the Old Testament.
I want to receive an honorary doctorate even though my highest level of education is what my mother calls Sub.B. I want my sister in law's nephew's cousin to be awarded a tender worth R6 million without filling a tender form irrespective of their qualifications. And yes, I want qualifications to be a thing of the past. Who cares whether you're qualified to open my skull and check for a tumour? My uncle's wife's first cousin is known in the village as a skilled hunter and slaughterer. He can be the glorified neurosurgeon in this new South Africa that I envision. All appointments go through me ofcourse, accompanied by a non-refundable fee of. . . oh that's up for negotiation.
And that, people of the soil, is my manifesto. Let's all go to the polls come 7th of May and be on our merry way to the new South Africa!
Rest assured that I believe that South African politicians are stark raving mad. And NO! I refuse to apologise for this statement comrade. Do know that I mean this with sincerity and reverence, for only the insane can keep up with our beautiful land's beautiful political minds. Aye! There's method to our madness.
Look out people, our streets are roaming with vagrants and vagabonds who belong in loony bins, and by vagrants I mean all political leaders. How brazen are they to stand in front of us and promise us a better South Africa? Ha!! Such insolence deserves a butt naked whip lash to the bone and marrow! Who wants a better South Africa? I know I don't. I want a South Africa where I can just buy my docket to go missing if ever the blood hounds in blue decide to arrest me on account of my lack of association with a member of the ruling party. I want the president to call for a commission of inquiry that will milk the taxpayers of millions of rands per year whenever a drunken prostitute is found dead in a brothel. Oh, and I want prostitution to be legal. It is, after all, the oldest profession ever. Check it, it's in the bible, the Old Testament.
I want to receive an honorary doctorate even though my highest level of education is what my mother calls Sub.B. I want my sister in law's nephew's cousin to be awarded a tender worth R6 million without filling a tender form irrespective of their qualifications. And yes, I want qualifications to be a thing of the past. Who cares whether you're qualified to open my skull and check for a tumour? My uncle's wife's first cousin is known in the village as a skilled hunter and slaughterer. He can be the glorified neurosurgeon in this new South Africa that I envision. All appointments go through me ofcourse, accompanied by a non-refundable fee of. . . oh that's up for negotiation.
And that, people of the soil, is my manifesto. Let's all go to the polls come 7th of May and be on our merry way to the new South Africa!
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