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Vat Vyf! Week 15 van 2017- United Airlines se hol, Spar se slang en Zuma se poes

In Wat is nuus? deur PK MalherbeRek jou bek

1) Daar’s twee goed waarvan Jacob Zuma bitterfokkol weet. (Ok, daar is getalle-wat-hy-nie-kan-uitspreek-nie meer, maar ons sal die hele maand besig wees as ons op almal moet fokus, so ons kies twee vir nou.) Die een is OPTOG en die ander is AFTOG. En dit los meeste landsburgers met ‘n gevoel van FOKTOG. Want die belhamel wil net nie die AFTOG blaas nie. En hy reken elke OPTOG van die laaste week of so wat hom vra om te tjaila is rassisties. Jip. Selfs op ‘n swart-en-wit TV kon mens sien dis mense van elke kleur wat gemarsjeer het. Maar nee. Een two-tone khakidraer se plakkaat wat insinueer die probleem is die swartmens word uitgesonder en nou is daar kwansuis meer rassiste as trappe in ‘n Top Billing episode. Maak mens skoon wit van woede.
2) Wat maak jy as jy voel jy is besig om mag te verloor? Jy kry weermag. Die Gupta-familie het na laas week se optogte so bedreigd gevoel, hulle het sommer ‘n pantserwa gekry om hulle te beskerm. Ja man. So een wat jy sommer by enige webuymilitaryvehicles.co.za kan aanskaf. Volgens die Gupta-nes se prokurower, voel hulle die polisie kan hulle nie meer verdedig nie. Eina. Sulke dwarsklap na Fokkol Mbalula, die nuwe Minister van Polisie se kant toe. Die einste vuurwa is toe sommer in die middernagtelike ure verwyder toe dit aan die lig kom dat dit onwettig is om ‘n weermagvoertuig vir private gebruik aan te wend. Maar Google Maps het die laaste lag gehad toe hulle vir ‘n wyle hierdie week ook verkeerdelik die Gupta-pondokkie in Saxonwold as die huis van die president aangedui het. Sulke lag.
3) Die lysie van mense wat NIE na ‘n marshmallow-braai by my sekuriteitskompleks met ‘n wag by die hek en lemmetjiedraad reg rondom uitgenooi sal word nie, het hierdie week gegroei. Naas Nicholis Louw, die tannie met die snor by die kafee in Westdene en Dan Roodt, het Mzwandile Masina, Ekurhuleni se uitvoerende burgemeester, sy naampie in die hoed kom gooi. Dit nadat hy hierdie week by ‘n herdenkingsdiens vir struggle-veteraan Chris Hani, ‘n waarskuwing aan witmense gerig het dat as hulle in die pad staan van nasiebou (nie nasiebrou), dinge baie rof kan raak. Sy woorde: “Ons is baie. Dis nie ‘n dreigement nie. Ons is baie en dit kan baie, baie rof raak.” Nou ek kan verkeerd wees, maar ek vermoed die “baie” is die swartmense. Dit kan seker Jehovah Getuies ook wees. Of mense wat Candy Crush uitnodigings op Facebook stuur. Die “baie” kan selfs dalk verwys het na mense wat iets “waardeur” in plaas van “waardeer.” Maar ek is bereid om my junk-status tienrandjie op die spel te plaas dat hy ‘n kwalik verskansde dreigement na wittes toe gemik het. Burgemeester se gat. Burgerminste more likely. Kom ons gebruik ons magsposisie en hits mense teen mekaar aan. Sulke doos.

4) South African Airways het ‘n goeie week agter die rug toe dit onttroon is as die lugdiens wat pal in die meeste kak is. United Airlines van die Verenigde State van Amerika het hierdie week meer drama gehad as ‘n moffie by die NG Kerk in Ventersdorp. Toe dit blyk hulle het ‘n vlug te vol bespreek, moes hulle vier passassiers vra om af te klim. Toe niemand wil nie, kies hulle randomly vier. Drie aanvaar hulle lot. Maar een klou toe soos ‘n metropolisielid se broek aan sy gat en weier. Sekuriteit word ingeroep en ander passassiers verfilm toe hoe hy hardhandig van die aerie af geboender word. Kan dinge erger raak? Wel, die CEO van United Airlines se halfhartige verskoning vir wat gebeur het, het die vure verder gestook en laat hoe Ford SA die hele Kuga-debakel hanteer het, lyk soos ‘n gevallestudie vir PR-excellence.

5) Terug in Suid-Afrika het honderde mense in Komatipoort na hul vriedelike SPAR toe gehaas toe hulle hoor ou Zoom-zoom maak ‘n verskyning en teken tiete. Maar groot was hul verbasing toe hulle uitvind dat dit ‘n genuine slang is wat in die SPAR gesien is en nie net die politikus-soort nie. Want slang is mos slêng vir politikus. Mens kan die konfusie verstaan, veral as mens in ag neem dit was ‘n LUI-slang van amper 4 meter ook nog. Die slang het blykbaar harder sisgeluide gemaak as die sisgeluide wat die “ras-sis-te” tydens die Zoom-zoom optogte gemaak het.

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    PK MalherbeVat Vyf! Week 15 van 2017- United Airlines se hol, Spar se slang en Zuma se poes
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    Helen Flanagan – Woensdag se warm bokkie

    In Warm Bokkies deur griffinRek jou bek

    Jy sal vergewe word as jy nie weet wie Helen Flanagan is nie. Tensy jy ‘n fan is van die langste running Britse soapie op aarde, Coronation Street. In daardie geval het jy probably ook nie tjommies nie. Anyway, Helen werk nou al vir die agfelope 17 jaar lank pretty much net op daai soapie. Sy gaan seker vir die goue horlosie of iets. Nog ‘n useless feit wat jy nie sou weet nie – sy deel haar bed sedert 2008 met Scott Sinclair, ‘n sokkerspeler van Celtic span. Die rede hoekom jy dit nie weet nie is omdat:
    a) Jy nie sokker kyk nie
    b) Enige Afrikaanse persoon wat die Premier League kyk net weet van Liverpool of Manchester United. Goeie nuus vir Man U fans – Helen is in Manchester gebore. Nog ‘n rede om ‘n dratie oor te kap.

    Tit bits:
    Sy het ‘n tattoo van Marilyn Monroe se gevreet op haar linkerarm. Dis so ‘n fokken zef ding om enige plek op jou lyf te tattoo.
    Sy is kakbang vir hoogtes sowel as die donker.

    Helen Flanagan poses beside a poster featuring her wearing reptile skin, to promote the new PETA campaign, in Covent Garden, central London.

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      griffinHelen Flanagan – Woensdag se warm bokkie
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      Dear Boodle, go fuck yourself!

      In Snotstories deur Watkykertjie bydrae1 Eiertjies

      By Marc

      I don’t swear much nowadays, so it’s welcome, refreshing and comic to me to employ a bit of profanity here as, also, it is so utterly appropriate. I think so. You can decide for yourself.

      I got this from Boodle, via mail, a few days ago. My outrage I know ties into a much larger, more hale picture that always swims before my eyes when I encounter advertising. I know I am not typical or balanced on the issue, but my resolve and insistence on my understanding as being fundamentally sound has grown over the years, not diminished. I hate advertising. I know hate is a strong word and hate, per se, is not an aspiration of mine. But I’m going to let the word stand for a moment. Ever since Edward Bernays hustled his uncle Sigmund Freud’s pseudoscience into advertising, it’s sucked. Playing on the most shallow, ephemeral and vain attributes of humanity. Sell the idea, the style, the aspiration, the snobbery, not the goods.

      For eliciting an entire generation of American women to smoke, I hope Bernays is in fog hell, gagging for an asonkaya.

      From informative and indicative of value, advertising has rotted into a desperate attempt to out swing everyone else’s dick. It’s sad, hollow and shit. All of it. If I were President, I would ban it. Of course, I would also confiscate banks’ annual after tax profits – leave them with a billion or so only – and build houses for poor folks with that money, so I have about as much chance of being elected as falling pregnant, but I want you to know this. I would do it. Sincerely, I would.

      Advertising has either gotten larger (outdoor, which should be dynamited) or more desperate in its statements of value, or both. And thus shittier. Lousier. A ball of overpriced crap. Advertising is business’ whore. Overpriced, and only good at sucking in all the wrong ways. I know. I write advertising copy. So when I tell you that it’s a giant, overpriced, massive wank, I know what I’m talking about. All it seems to be about nowadays is inflating hype. Gone are the days of artisinal value. Now fuckers like Hilfiger and Nike get to toy with their billions while entire swathes of humanity work like sled dogs for pittance. I know this too. Not only because I’ve bothered to try and figure these things out in the world I live in by reading and researching, but because I married one of those workers. I know the brutality of capitalism. From all sides.

      Business is about greed. Money. All of it. Having all of it. It’s the obvious pinnacle of the pyramid and only fools argue the point. There are many satisfied people in this world, making money, enough, who would deny such raw lust after wealth as we know it. Unfortunately for them, firstly, they are still playing the game that costs lives and, secondly, denial comes against the backdrop of a dearth of imagination. It’s more memory than imagination really. Just because the ages before lacked electricity, anesthetic, water borne sewerage and a host of other modern delights, we all “oooooh” and say a Hail Mary and slip on a Woolies gown while being so grateful for being alive at this time now, rather. Rather than the blunt and shitty past. Well, that knee-jerk reaction loses planets in its assumptions. Planets of value, genuine wealth, honesty, credibility and right living. It also loses sight of how skewed our trajectory has become, how pitifully we have done in our race to become civilized. When African children dig for gems in caving tunnels and millions of Asians die poor after a lifetime of hard labour, we’ve failed. Period. Not one of those lives – not one – was worth where we’ve arrived at now. Business, the never-questioned, ever-sacrosanct bully in the playground. Even the local government, formerly so good at mouthing deep and profound truths about the plight of the masses, now could not give those masses the time of day unless they’re paid for it. The ANC has finally emerged as the disgusting sack of money grubbing shit it is. There is no integrity left. Governments have very, very little integrity to begin with, so the ANC isn’t an exception, it’s a typical indicator. Those who sit fat in the seats of power, eating the commoners money, will pay for it in hell. Forgive me, but I’m looking forward to that.

      So. Advertising. The constant, constant ramming of unnecessary, shit information through our eyes and ears. I long ago lost the ability to listen to the radio. It’s just such a load of shit. Perpetual rah-rah-rah in your earhole… Around 80% of my time listening to any radio station is spent listening to jingle crap I didn’t want to hear. The deal ran thin for me years ago. I just can’t take the constant sell-sell-sell shit that passes for radio. Or TV, for that matter. When TV first arrived in South Africa, yes it was only black and white. And yes it was only “on” for a few hours every night. But there were no adverts. None. We paid for it via licensing, remember? Then there were some in between shows. Then it became interrupting your show to shove shit in your brain. And now? Now middle class humans have to pay a small fortune every month to get less adverts on better TV. And even that offering is shit. Utter shit. And the fickle idiots who constitute the middle class have now taken the bait of big TV screens and the status of cable as some kind of having “made it”. The surest proof that God and humans are separate in their realms is that we don’t hear him cry… All the while, we just sit in the easy chair, soaking up the puerile crap that assaults us. I don’t own a TV. I’m a journalist, a writer. But a TV, I do not own.

      I prefer not being a moron. I prefer to not have to be constantly vigilant, trying to sift through all the dirt for the gems, wasting snippets of my time entering into any given program only to decide it’s bollocks after all. The medium is flawed. I always find the way people say “You don’t own a TV?” a little comic and wholly indicative of how – from shacks to mansions – we all just assume that TV is some kind of essential asset for any modern human.

      Intrinsic value eludes us.

      TV is crap. Who, especially in this internet age, told you that you need one?

      We still pay for TV, remember? Through licensing. But of course notwithstanding the fact that (especially) the public broadcaster is supposed to be a public service and the private entities are supposed to provide “entertainment”, they long ago sold advertising space to make money. More money. Pots of money. Money money money. Oh fuck the public interest, did you take that seriously? This is business, baby.

      Anyway, Boodle. A loan shark. In a suit. Boodle sent me this mail as I’m sure it did a few million other South Africans. It was entitled “The owner’s manual for how to be a better human being.”

      “Here is your owner’s manual for how to be a better human being.”

      Firstly, oh my God, I had no idea that Boodle was into philosophy and had found the secrets of the psyche. Oh my GOD! I had no idea that Jesus had come back and appointed Boodle as the dispenser of divine wisdom! Oh my God… Maybe it was on TV? Maybe I should get a TV after all…

      “1. Be kind. When people are kind to each other, it’s contagious. Kindness breeds kindness, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It takes more energy to be unkind, so why bother?”

      You see, this is the third way advertising has become a festering blight upon humanity… blur the lines between a bowl of pudding and a piece of shit. Present as nice. Be nice. Give stuff to people to pull them in. Go for it! People are nice nowadays, so if you talk nice and act nice you’ll get their money… simple. So what, you sell children’s body parts. Just be nice about it. Give away a free lung every now and then. It’s ok. Just look & feel nice and talk nice and when you do constantly badger them to impoverish themselves further with shit they don’t need or loans they desperately need because no one is ever paid their worth anyhow, slip in your ugly, brute presence as something nice… it’s not lying, it’s just nice.

      Also, that bit about “It takes more energy to be unkind…”? I had no idea Boodle had invested millions into mapping the human journey like this, measuring the energy levels of humans in order to get to the core truth of our souls… Wow. And, by the way, you sound like a dumbass teenager sitting on a park bench, mouthing platitudes.

      “2. Care about and help others. Caring about and helping others should be a basic human instinct. When you see people in need, ask what you can do to help. Donate to charities when you can. We need to be a more compassionate (sic)”

      Awesome. And, uuh, it is a basic human instinct. You just live in opposition to that, making people pay for life. Can you donate to me? I haven’t eaten properly for three days because I’m so broke right now. Can you be kind to me? To others? Can you take this month’s income, pay everyone and then give what remains to folks in need? Maybe drop cash from a plane flying over Johannesburg? That would be awesome, to see you follow your own inspiring advice. Really awesome.

      “3. Be grateful for what you have. For so many these days it’s all about what they don’t have instead of what they do have. Let’s stop trying to outdo each other and instead be grateful for what we’ve got.”

      But not, of course, if we can loan you money at a phenomenal rate of interest. Yeah, of course, be grateful, but don’t forget that you qualify for a few thousand from us to get that big screen TV you wanted. Remember? C’mon now, yes be grateful, but after you’re done feeling warm and fuzzy for a few seconds, come right back inside and we’ll fuck your anus just like we always do. C’mon now… I mean, yeah, that’s a nice thought, but don’t forget how pathetic you really are, how there’s no such thing as too much, how desperately empty you are inside and how we can help plug that yawning, gaping maw with lots of cash. Not as much as we fuck you out of, but, c’mon, you know this…

      “4. Enjoy every day like it’s your last. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow isn’t here yet. So what’s the sense in dwelling on the past or the future? Live in the moment! Live each day to its fullest!”

      And by that we don’t mean forget that you owe us money, hey? Imagine you’re going to die tomorrow by all means, but imagine it like you can borrow from us to the hilt today because, well, fuckit, you might be dead tomorrow. Not as in, like, so what if I borrowed Boodle’s money and can’t repay them, I might be dead tomorrow. Ok, motherfucker? Get it right. Abandon fear! Throw caution to the wind! Borrow from us and indebt your miserable little existence on the planet even more than before! Every wage slave can justify it because no one is paid enough anyhow! We are a responsible lender. So, yes, we’re saying the most irresponsible thing ever concocted as advertising copy, but it feels good, doesn’t it? Fuckit! Abandon fear! And, while you’re at it, abandon all caution and hope of every getting out of this debt trap. Because that’s the way it works, sucker. You’ll spend your whole life scratching for enough money to able to be buried, you dumb shit, but,today, well, fuckit!

      “5. Love more. There is so much hatred in the world. People hate people for the colour of their skin or their political or religious beliefs. Love is so much easier than hate. So, let’s love our fellow humans (and animals, too).”

      For the Albanians, “loving animals too” doesn’t mean what you think it does, ok? You sick fucks… But, hey, love, flowers, peace and sunshine in a bright blue sky… So what if we’ve got you by the tits? Love, love, love. Love is free and wonderful and we’re so awesome for pointing that out, don’t you think?

      “6. Set an example for your kids. Children are the most impressionable beings on the planet. If you want them to act a certain way, be the example for them. Like it or not, you are your child’s biggest role model.”

      And, while we’re at it, we’ll just step into every last personal space you own (the hallmark of great advertising) and tell you how to treat and raise your children, how to walk upright, how to have a conversation, how to live in  interracial harmony and how to wipe your ass.

      They crediting lifting these illuminating words (and they would no doubt be illuminating, if they came from the Dalai Lama) from The Huffington Post, a prospective employer that has declined me oh at least a dozen times…

      And the clincher… “Any questions contact us directly on 0861 BOODLE (266 353)”

      Questions? About what? What’s left to ask, really? You’ve said it all. You’ve got it, Boodle! Thank you so much for making me feel all light and breezy while you fish for my wallet. You know, the last time I was raped, it was so brutal. I really appreciate you not ramming your dick up my ass without considering my feelings this time. Without going that extra mile to mouth some horseshit that you have absolutely no intention of living out yourselves. So rare to find that in a rapist, nowadays.

      Hey, Boodle. Vlieg in jou kont in. Better yet, give all you have to the poor, and go in peace. Give it all away. Live the dream. Be the change. You go for it… Thanks for dipping into the budget to send me a feel-good email, you wonderful, caring, happy, loving people you! Now you go do it…

      Smiled business shark waving a greeting with bag in hand

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        Watkykertjie bydraeDear Boodle, go fuck yourself!
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        Laasweek se zefspotters

        In Zefspotters deur griffin1 Eiertjies

        Comes standard with magnifying glass and two inch penis.
        John
        Gebruik hom soos die uwe dit goed sien.
        Billy
        Zefspotting South Carolina
        Corné
        Griffin,
        Nederland: klein land, klein karre, maar check hierdie! With more pipes than cylinders!
        Paul
        Ek dink nie THEIR onderrig is van sulke hoë standaard nie.
        Jannie
        Hey Griffin
        Hier is twee stukkies zef. Die een is ‘n wonderlike geskenk van bo aan mensdom. Die ander een is ‘n BMW met 4 exhausts. Die jirre alleen weet…
        Groete
        Stefan
        Gespot in Menlyn,
        Henk
        \

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          griffinLaasweek se zefspotters