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Kim Kardashian and I will simply laugh all the way to the bank while the losers fail to realise that if sex sells, then it pays to be known as a purveyor of distinction.

BAR TALK with Bra Gee
Someone please tell us that we did not hear this one correctly; the municipal authorities in the capital city are reportedly mulling the shut down of takeaways as a measure of dealing with litter.

Who am I?

Sex sells. That is a truism that many of you know but never put to good use. But just look at me. When I was crowned the most beautiful woman in the country everyone laughed. Okay with my nose resembling the beak of swooping eagle, I know I am not pretty. But did people really have to be so nasty by turning to social media and labelling me the ugliest duckling to ever be hatched at a local beauty pageant?

Anyway, fast forward a few days later and some loser came forward to say that he had images of him and I in flagrante delicto.

For some funny reason his name was never made public and maybe other girls still get drunk and naked with him not knowing that the pervert is recording their moments of madness.

Do you suppose there are some former pretty women paying him in cash and kind to keep him from showing compromising images to the husbands who think they married innocent little virgins? Other losers joined in by circulating videos of porn stars sucking some losers where the sun don’t shine and before you know it I became a household name.

The activists who are always looking for a cause, especially if it can be a glamorous one soon adopted the fight in my name saying that I had been treated poorly. It suited them to forget that I put myself in that situation because I lied, repeatedly, under oath. Yes, I verbally confirmed that I had never exposed certain parts of my anatomy to a camera lenses.

Then I went on to sign a statement to that effect. Yet all the time I knew that I was a good time girl who likes her drink and may not know what happens after I have had one too many.

But anyway, unlike most other young women who have made names for themselves in beauty pageants, people have decided that since I was filmed drunk and in a state of dishabille then refused to apologise for it, I am worth more than a pretty face. So I get speaking slots at conferences. People pay to hear me tell them the advantages of being a shameless liar.

Now I have been chosen to be the face of a clothes shop and the haters are already on my case. They are saying the clothes that I sell are for easy lays that is why I have been selected to market them. But who cares? Dear Kim Kardashian and I will simply laugh all the way to the bank while the losers fail to realise that if sex sells, then it pays to be known as a purveyor of distinction.

Shut them all down

Someone please tell us that we did not hear this one correctly; the municipal authorities in the capital city are reportedly mulling the shutdown of takeaways as a measure of dealing with litter. It just shows you what sharp tools we have in the shed that is our local authority, really bright bulbs. Yes, by all means let us treat the symptoms and never mind the disease.

So shall vehicles be banned on our roads as a way of reducing carnage? Let us also ban mobile phones because a lot of promiscuity is happening because people communicate on WhatsApp, Viber and Facebook using such devices. Let us also close down all tertiary institutions as our poor young ladies are turning to prostitution while studying there. While we are at it let us also do away with churches because women are being seduced and raped by prophets and pastors. And of course let us close down all schools since teachers are sexually abusing pupils.

Dear Acting City Mother and colleagues, the problem is not the takeaways or any other source of materials that are turned into litter. Surely in all your foreign trips you once visited some clean cities where people get obese on takeaways. Take Kigali in Rwanda for example. Are there no takeaways? No, it is not the takeaways, stupid. It is the people.

Somewhere along the line someone went to sleep and Zimbabweans, especially Harareans got into a culture of littering. That is the illness that we need to treat. A sustained campaign of arresting and prosecuting litter bugs will soon put an end to the madness. We remember the some half-hearted attempts including the volunteer litter monitors or something like that.

Such initiatives will not work. You need a 12 months unrelenting campaign buttressed by effective legislation. No one is going to throw down their takeaway package in the street if it means picking it up, placing it in a bin, a visit to the police station and the payment of a $20 fine. No one will even want to pay a one dollar bribe then if they must still pick up their litter anyway.

But you could engage the takeaways to place branded bins around their areas of operations. Because remember the littering culture partially came to be in us because at one point you could not find a bin in the CBD for love or money. And while you are at it, maybe also engage those illegal vendors who still take over the city after hours. We suggest that you license them to operate after five, place bins in the areas and make the vendors responsible for keeping their environs clean.

Having wasted our drinking time doing your thinking job for you, we recommend that the minister responsible brings in new blood at the municipality when he appoints a substantive head honcho. For it is clear that the incumbent hopeful is not exactly bursting with bright ideas.

No finger to hide behind

We are glad that the man hiding behind a finger is now left exposed to the glare of the law.

We will hasten to say that we are not declaring him guilty or innocent on the charges of perversion in the form of forcing himself sexually on minors under his care.

All we are saying is that we are glad that the course of justice will finally be seen to be allowed to persevere. We will await the outcome with open minds. Though they do say that justice delayed is justice denied, and there are others who fear that the system is an hour late and a dollar short.

Last Call: Sex tape blues

In honour of our lady of the horizontal adventures, we share with you a sex tape joke courtesy of Sickipedia.org.

My wife went mental when she found a sex tape of me with a young, fit pretty woman in the wardrobe.

Her mood didn’t really improve when I pointed out the tape was of her from 10 years ago before she had kids and let herself go.

Till next week, bottoms up!

 Facebook: Bra Gee, Twitter: @brageesbar, Email: [email protected]