Who am I?

My mother, father, aunts, uncles and the rest of the village that spawned me somehow failed to teach me the sage sayings that we Shona are known for.

They really should have told me the one on exposing underarms in public or even the one on roofs covering all manner of ills residing in the family home. But they did not. Therefore when at home, I use the acres of space that the local media so unfailingly grant me to talk about nonsensical matters like spirits from the sea and reptiles storming my citadel.

But when I want to talk about real issues, I must plan trips outside the country. I have a firm belief that one must go next door to talk about domestic affairs concerning one’s family or else no one will ever listen to you. I needed to get my passport stamped to announce my ambition of meeting my own president.

Then I realised that I needed to talk about things like how getting taxed would ruin my business. I therefore planned another sojourn to express my heartfelt plea that people will leave my wealth alone. Please understand that this money belongs to my god and as his earthly appointee, I am only a custodian, not the owner. Of course I use some of it to buy stuff like plane tickets and acquire properties, but I assure you that it is all for his glory. So keep on handing over the fruit of your labours to me and my frenemy as you have been doing over the past few years. Our gods will reward you richly, we promise you.

Moving on, do you think my parents, clan and village ever told me about how a drum’s sound rises to previously undreamt of levels just before the skin on top cracks wide open, rendering the drum useless? You will just have to wait for time to get the answer to that one.

Gone, gone

This whole weekend the drinks are on us as we celebrate the departure of Cuthbert. Minister Hlongwane automatically makes it to the top of the list as the man of the year at the usual place.

Now all we have to do is wait to see how many millions of dollars Cuthbert will soon be demanding from the soccer body as he pulls out bills of all personal funds he allegedly poured in. Remember that you read it here first and credit Bra Gee for being the country’s top prophet when this prediction comes to pass.

Equality in pills

Very soon there will be no difference between citizens in the country, we hear. You can no longer point fingers at the next person and talk about how they are on “the tablets” as everyone will now be popping pills.

Yes, finally the powers that be have realised that in spite of the country leading the world when it comes to condom distribution, it has not followed that we also lead in condom use. So now they have decided to arrest the spread of the virus by getting everyone to just take ARVs. About time, we say.

Carnival time again

Some of the regulars say that Christmas has come early this year for they have been given an unexpected chance to ogle half-naked women. They had thought that the non-carnival was dead and buried and they would never see those abbreviated costumes ever again.

But as you know, for every happy person there is always a grumbler seething with frustration. So there are those who are questioning why the country spends so much money on bringing some foreign women to prance about half-naked when our local talent is so much better at the game.

In addition, these pessimist say, the locals are always willing to take the dance to its natural conclusion — which of course is not on the dance floor, as long as the colour of your money is right.

The grumblers are also muttering about how no one ever comes into our country to see the non-carnival anyway so maybe we should take the money and use it to upgrade some rural clinic or something like that.

The most analytical of the group went on Facebook to question who is really benefiting from the imported half-naked prancing ladies and what form the benefit is taking. Bra Gee does not want to be accused of malice and therefore will just leave this one right here and you can all input your own views, conclusions, beliefs, opinions and lies.

Much ado about nudity

Staying with the topic of covering or uncovering the human body, we must say that at the usual place we find this Victorian prudishness that has gripped our society to be quite irritating.

For great grandchildren of people who would not have recognised a panty if it was thrown in their faces, we have certainly begun to cry louder than the bereaved.

If a girl decides to go commando and flash what her mama gave her, surely that is not enough for the long arm of the law to be extended so swiftly.

We would better appreciate such decisive action when it comes to arresting rapists, murderers, burglars, pickpockets and other such undesirables.

And as for people condemning a guy just because he posed for a picture with underdressed young girls is really taking things so far.

Let’s take a chill pill here people and consider the situation.

The sweet little things were happy to stand with the dude and get their pictures taken. So how were they abused? Whether or not the man posed with them does not change the fact that they are comfortable in their skins and see nothing wrong with meeting the world and his mother in little more than their birthday suits.

What boggles the mind is how activists decided to make the whole thing sexual.

Office and stomach mismatch

Maybe this has nothing to do with anything beyond our warped sense of humour but we did roll about in laughter as our latest addition to the hall of city notables struggled to fit his distended stomach into his new office.

We wonder what leadership we can expect from a man who does not even know where he can safely stuff his own stomach and so gets stuck during his very first photo opportunity.

Will this person add any value to working out the amount of diesel needed so that garbage can be collected from each suburb, the amount of materials needed to patch up the potholes before the El Nino comes and other problematic arithmetic sums like that?

We apologise for judging a book by its cover, but we certainly hold no high hopes for any positive change happening in our little pockets of the city due to the elevation of this man. Unless maybe he wants to spearhead a municipal Biggest Loser campaign.

Last Call: Holy water recipe

As more and more people seek salvation in holy water, oils, oranges, bricks, wristbands and so forth, we decided to find you a homemade recipe to make your very own holy water.

Q: How do you make holy water?

A: Boil the hell out of it. — jokes4us.com

Till next week, bottoms up!

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

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