Dear Julius

Brenda has been nagging me to emigrate (I presume she means us, and not just me) on the spurious grounds that South Africa is going to hell in a hand-basket. I don't want to leave. I reckon in twenty ...

Continue reading

Dear Boss

You like it when I call you Boss, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. They glaze over when I stroke your ego. Afterwards, I have to go and wash my hands. Sometimes I even throw up. But never on your...

Continue reading