Awê ma se kinnes! – 12 July 2021
The best memes usually land on my phone when crazy things are happening in the country. One I saw yesterday went along the lines of DUE TO COVID 19 WE ARE ASKING LOOTERS TO WORK FROM HOME AND DESTROY THEIR OWN PROPERTY. Hope all the members of team zuma took that one to heart.
Last night we had another Family Meeting. The President has asked us to NOT consume those happy grapes for 2 more weeks. I have to say that I’m actually OK with that. These days it seems that I’m loving alcohol a lot less than I used to. And it absolutely has everything to do with that dreaded hangover that seems to carry on for 9 years! OK, for 1 day – but still. That’s 1 day too many for me. I’ve already worked it out: the hangover usually stops at around 20h40. Ain’t nobody got time for that. I have way too much to do. Having said that, there are certain people who just cannot be tolerated completely sober. By that, I mean I cannot deal with them unless I have a glass in my hand. They have shockingly outrageous opinions. Those are the people who have been sent into our lives to test us. They dwell amongst us like normal people but they are flippin hard work. I fully blame them for my occasional lapses in judgment.
But thank heavens there are many people in our lives who we can handle without the assistance of a whiskey. One such friend is Jonathan Rubain. He hosts a TV show on kyknet called KOORTJIES. “Koortjies” is an Afrikaans term we grew up with in the Pentecostal Church. It refers to uplifting spiritual songs we used to sing and dance to in Church. Yes, we danced in our church. In a circle. Sometimes around the outside of the building. We would have gone viral on social media. But wait, I digress.
I got to be a guest on Jonathan’s show over the weekend. The episode is still to be aired. I’ll do a social media post before
they air the ep. I loved being on the show. It took me right back to my growing up years in the church in Tafelsig, Mitchells Plain. My late Dad was the Pastor of the Church. The business of where we come from will always fascinate me. I believe that it forms an integral part of your life, for the rest of your life, regardless as to where you may find yourself. We spoke about this on Jonathan’s show. I mentioned that one night I was part of a comedy line-up show at Emperors Palace in Joburg. After the gig, Trevor Noah told me that I had the stage persona of an Evangelist. I had never been aware of that until that moment. I move around onstage exactly the way in which my Dad moved around in front of the pulpit.
I’m not sure whether Trevor knew that my Dad was a Preacher man but for the purposes of this story I’m going to assume that he didn’t. It’s much more mesmerizing that way.
Being on KOORTJIES once again reminded me that aspects of my upbringing still travel with me on my journey today.
Channel the Childhood stuff positively.
Shoo. Marc Oprah Lottering.
Have a Lekka Week x
It was an interesting time leading up to yesterday’s Jab. The first big story to circulate was: “go to Lentegeur psychiatric hospital for your jab – you don’t need an appointment – and they are sooo well organized!”
The result was loads of people quite swiftly finding their way to Mitchells Plain! Who knew that folk from the Atlantic Sea Board knew how to drive to Lentegeur ? A Vaccine is a powerful thing.
The sms landed on my phone last week. Telling me that I was officially registered to get my jab. Even just that little message made me pee a little with excitement! So you can just imagine what went down when the sms arrived with my appointment date and location. Unprintable.
I had never been to Somerset Hospital before. Drove through the gates which opened remotely. Great parking bay right in front of the doors. I was super impressed so far. Went to my deurmekaar boot and threw on a sexy T-shirt because I mos knew that selfies were going to happen. For the gram, baby, for the gram !
A doctor strolled down the corridor, looked into my masked-up face, and said “we are only doing 50 year olds and over.” I blushed and focused on my marriage.
I could not have been in that queue for longer than 45 minutes. There seriously was a really special beautiful spirit in the air. Of course I struck up a conversation with the friendly gentleman behind me who’s been seeing his girlfriend for 11 years, now engaged for 3 years, and may get married next year. Ja.
Chairs were continuously being sanitized. Of course there were rebels who arrived with no confirmation sms. These were promptly put in another line. The rest of us took great pride in looking at the rebels with warm judgement. Judgement that said THIS ISN’T LENTEGEUR!
My phone devastatingly died just before it was my chance to get the needle. But friendly Randall who works at the hospital shouted I GOT YOU LOTTERING IT’S FINE! (He sent through 49 pics last night. Yirre Randall.)
I didn’t look at the needle, but it really was painless. Much more bearable than my 3 covid tests up the nose and down the throat! (Ja that throat thing happened in Botswana. A lovely country nonetheless).
All went swimmingly. The only issue was when I got back to my car. The security guard asked me why I was there. I said: “the jab mos”. He responded: “this is a private parking area for doctors – you were meant to go around the back – with normal public”.
I have zero idea why those remote controlled gates rolled wide open for me. But we are not here to question the Creator.
Awê ma se kinnes!
Hello Level 4.
This one has hit me much harder than the others. Having said that, I’ve always been somewhat of a late bloomer. (Told my first joke at 30). But really, yesterday’s family meeting just left me feeling somewhere inbetween “I’m at peace” and “wtf”. I’ve just been out to buy toilet paper and anti-ageing cream – essentials mos – and my comic heart sank when I saw empty coffee shops and restaurants. People’s lives have been truly screwed, with no lube.
It’s in my nature to not linger in a dark corner for too long. Which is a good thing when you consider what I do for a living. So I will more than likely come into the light now-now. I’ll look for the positives. Because I’m told they’re always there. Let’s see: no crazy traffic with shockingly idiotic drivers who catch up on whatsaap messages while changing lanes; no having to see people who you were never ever in the mood to see even outside of a pandemic; no more standing at a full bar where the barman can see everyone friggin else except you!
I lie. I miss all of those things. That’s how horrible this pandemic is. Delta se ma se pa.
Hang in there.
We were meant to make a special announcement last week, which has been postponed to this week. I’m not lying I swear. Nice news coming on Friday. Kasam.
It’s Tuesday today and I think that I seriously need to start doing one of these stories every Monday. Just so we can get into a pattern of sorts. And so that I can share fresh fabulous details pertaining to my weekend. Because I actually had a kwaai weekend. Well one part was really kwaai, and another part was – how shall I put it – “eventful”.
The great part of my weekend was that I got to experience ABAGUQULI, a non-profit outfit empowering the youth in a seriously real way. Forty graduates from Elsies River made my heart swell with pride. The ABAGUQULI training programme essentially gets our young people ready to work and flourish within the much talked about 4th industrial revolution. These are young people who have moved from “you’re just not good enough”, to “you think you know me but you don’t”. My words, not theirs. The doors have been shut to them previously but Aasiyah Adams who heads ABAGUQULI has ensured that the doors of opportunity be opened to them one more time. They have been given another shot. And they have grabbed it with eager capable hands.
ABAGUQULI is the website you absolutely have to visit if you are in a position to employ dynamic young people with brand new skills who deserve a chance.
Well that happened on Friday. Saturday morning was all about zero skills. I took my dog Hamilton to puppy training class. His first one. A total mess. In the car, I begged him to please not embarrass me. (Stopping short of adding “in front of the white people”). He looked at me with his angelic puppy eyes that said “are you seriously giving this speech – I adore you master, let’s go”.
That dog proceeded to act like he had never seen me in his life before. Even I eventually started to believe that I had obviously kidnapped him from a petrol station an hour before we got there. He behaved like a total gangsta. Zero fucks to give. Pardon my French, but if you were there you would totally understand. The trainer eventually goes: “take him for a quick walk shame”. All I could think was, her over dinner that night to her friends: “you know the comedian with the hair – ja that one with the big mouth – can’t control a puppy to save his life”.
When we got into the car, I looked Hamilton square in the eye and mumbled TSEK. I’m almost sure I heard TSEK MA WEER. Stay tuned for what happens in puppy training session 2 on Saturday.
And oh oh OHHHH I have some amazing news to share laterrrr this week. You’re in for a nostalgic treat. Check in here on Thursday again kanalla.
Tsek – piss off
Tsek Ma Weer – no, you piss off.
Today is not a lekke day. My fiend Shaleen has passed on.A nation is in mourning.
We have lost an icon who has paved the way for so many of us to express ourselves with pride and honesty.
I will miss her until the sun sets for me too, and probably beyond that. Our last conversation was on her birthday on 7 May. When as usual we laughed until we peed.
She’s going to cause havoc up there if anyone dares ask her for one of her cigarettes.
Rest in Fabulous Peace Shaleen.