By Mister Shaun

Ah, the mighty Dutchman, profoundly expressing his rock-spider mentality to all who will listen and often to those who won't. And luister boet, you will fokken listen to him or he will fokken take this right outside Presley's and fuck you up. Doos.

Seriously? The only thing I want to take outside at Presley's is a pretty plaasmeisie with big brown doe-eyes. And I want to take her outside so I can take her home to my bed, to caress her lovingly with my tender touch, not to drag my soft manicured hands apelike through the dusty gravel parking-lot in a primitive display of physical competition that I will absolutely lose. (Lose, not loose, please!) A lot of you guys need to work on a few things. I thought I'd extrapolate on this a little further in this guest post.
Now I don't think for one minute I'm better than you just 'cos I can spell English words a little faster, no way. Julle ouens is fokken slim en fokken skerp. But for fuck's sake (not fucksakes) you can tolerate some stupid shit.

Don't get me wrong okes, I dig Afrikaans. Most of my mates are Afrikaans speaking – although they tend to speak English a hell of a lot more fluent and with less of an accent than I can speak Afrikaans. I've had my fair share of relationships with Afrikaans meisies, and yes, I will have another one again no doubt. Those women are top of the pile, boet. I've also got this chommie who runs the most popular Afrikaans blog – the one you're on right now. I live in the Moot, pappie, and when it is braai time, Afrikaans people turn to me, the soutie from Benoni, to sizzle those steaks to a perfect medium-rare. Every time, bra. I vloek more in Afrikaans than English, because, because it's poes lekker. I'll go so far as to say I personally think Chris Chameleon's reinterpretation of Ingrid Jonker's poetry is some of the most beautiful music ever made by a South African, with some of the most profound lyrical imagery in existence. I own the Volkleur DVD and watch it regularly, because it is simply excellent.

Take Bitterbessie dagbreek –
" 'n spieël het gebreek
Tussen my en haar
Soek ek na die grootpad
Om daarlangs te draf
Oral draai die paadjies
Van haar woorde af"

Like fucken' wow, dude! That shit is Profound (note the capital P). Love it. I'm not kidding. This is something Dutchmen can be proud of.
Even the Jack Parows and Fokofpolisiekar's have provided hours of auditory enjoyment, and often a lekker big party, party, paaahtie!

But I have a burning question for you often cultured, happy, smart, guturally-enhanced motherfuckers that I just can't reconcile.
Play this YouTube clip now, you only need to listen to 58 seconds, I promise:

Did you see what they do at 00:55?
'Fee fi Fo fum
something something gaan jou vang
"SANDRA PRINSLOO"'
Seriously? SRSLY? What the fuck is that and why do you allow that shit to happen? It's not even funny.
Now take a look at this. Watch the whole thing. Die hele fokken ding, asseblief. 
There's a specific moment in this song where my body actually went into convulsions as I retched.

My best literal translation which I think gives way more credit than due, is:
"Listen to the silence raging when you sing."
Yes, of course there's a raging silence when you sing because everyone sprinted out of the fucking room!

You should be chasing these people away with your shotguns and tearing down their posters, boycotting their stages if they so much as threaten a performance. There should be a ban on anyone like that coming near a mixing desk or a microphone or a vocoder. Clearly they're *only* doing music to make money, which is to say, to take money away from you guys, and apparently it really fucking works! Hoor jy? Dit fokken werk. Hulle kry jou geld vir daai shit, bra. Dis fokken mal. Rook julle almal fokken aaptwak?

And now, please allow me to discuss what is happening in this next picture:

What we have here is a classic case of English speaking people trying to take the mickey out of Afrikaans people.
If you don't understand the phrase "taking the mickey" (no biggie) – the best I've got is hulle "vat jou vir 'n ride".
While the website is deviously named "idesignclothing", that is simply the most malevolent use of the word "design" ever. Tricky to spot, I know, but the clothing on offer has no "design" component. Punt.
And worse, it gets sold to you as a "Lounge Shirt Collection". They could have at least called it "clothing to be worn only in the bush when nobody sees you and you've absolutely run out of naked skin".
Daardie treurige blonde-kuif outjie daar bo herinner my aan Sawyer. En Sawyer was moereva fokken Lost.
Get the hint? Picture the, likely English, advertisers: "Let's make the laaitie look poes lost like Sawyer from Lost, cos nobody in their right mind would ever commit that fashion faux-pas. Bazinga!"

Don't buy it. Don't wear it. Don't gift it. Don't laugh at it. Hang your head in shame and cry at the humiliating completion of the fashion stereotypification of the Afrikaner nation.
At least Sawyer was in a happy place and could score a chick.

And cars. Ai, nee, jissie bra.
If "an Englishman's home is his castle" then similarly "a Dutchman's wheels is his Stock Car."
To get us safely through this multi-page topic I'm going to simply pose a question or two about the practice of vehicular enhancement that plagues the Afrikaans speaking nation so desperately.
Hint: If you don't answer YES, you don't qualify for the upgrade.

Spoilers:
Is it an after-market spoiler?
Do you drive on a racetrack every day?

Mag wheels and low profile tyres:
Are the mag wheels after market?
Are the tyres Pirelli?
Do you drive on a racetrack every day?

Sound:
Did you purchase the car with the subwoofer and the amp?
Did you purchase the car with two batteries?
Will you ever have to put anything larger than a packet of effies and a bottle of brannas in the boot?

Exhaust:
Did you purchase the car with the branches and pipe?
Do you own a large number of shares in an petrol-producing company?
Do you drive on a racetrack every day?
Blue or Purple LED Lights external to the vehicle:
Are you a poes?

You see, here's the deal. Auto-manufacturers spend millions of Dollars designing interiors and testing those cars to a certain spec. You're not spending a million Dollars on whatever you are doing to the car, so you don't get to redesign the car. Leave it be. Spend the money on a nice dinner date with the missus and a good quality component hi-fi system with a turntable. Or buy some Unit Trusts. That will get you more status than winning all the races down Voortrekker street every Saturday for a year can get you.

Look, bra, I can't tell you what to do, but I don't want you to be judged by those around you on appearances alone. I can only hope for you to try make more informed decisions. At least meet me half way, boet?

It's tough to love you okes, but I try. Please explain why you do all this shit?