An Open Letter to Kenny “Caligula” Kunene
Dear Kenny,
I am bitterly disappointed that you hosted yet another of your Dionysian bacchanalia without inviting me. Is it because I'm white? I hope not. You see, Kenny, like you, I too have done ti...
That time I wrote to Jackie Selebi…
Jacob Zuma's release on medical parole reminded me of a letter I wrote to our former police chief Jackie Selebi 10 years ago. Say what you like about him, he, unlike Schabir Shaik, at least had the de...
My Holiday – Part III
So, wrapping up the tortuous trilogy that constitutes my vacation. The Land Rover broke down again. This time in J-Bay. I think the mechanic said something about a shattered cone in the shock. I could...
Clubbed, sealed and delivered
From: bentrovato@mweb.co.za
To: hatemyavuz@superonline.com
Subject: For the attention of Mr Hatem Yavuz of the Hatem Yavuz Group, purveyors of fine pelts and furs
Dear Mr Yavuz,
I understa...
Rage against the plying of the lighties
After hearing about the Matric Rage going down this weekend, I knew right away I had to be part of it. When I finished school, we didn’t have such a thing. On the last day of school, our teachers gave...
Climate change? Oil drink to that.
High level talks to save the planet have to be a good thing, right? So why is everyone so disillusioned a week after they started? Why are the cocaine-producing countries using words like “selfish” an...
My Holiday – Part II
A capricious Latina bitch by the name of LaNiñaput the kibosh on our plans to hole up on the Wild Coast for a few days. Before you could say “hypothetical meteorological phenomenon”, storm clouds gath...
My Holiday – Part I
A week ago I received an invitation to address the climate change conference that starts in Durban tomorrow. “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Brenda. “That would be like inviting Jackson Mthembu to be patr...
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 ...
Drowning – Not Waving
The festive season is almost here. And we all know what that means. Lying naked on the beach guzzling buckets of fried chicken washed down with barrels of beer. Sounds idyllic, doesn’t it? Well, it’s ...
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...
The Joys of Flying
The nightmare begins with the travel agent ignoring me for 45 minutes while she synchronises connecting flights for a young black empowerment couple’s third around the world trip
Then it’s my turn. A...