It’s that time of the month

A few years ago a friend invited me to join him on a refresher course on female anatomy at my local branch of Teazers. I had been married for some time and thought it might be a good opportunity to see if everything still looked the way I remembered it.

We took our seats and ordered a drink. It seemed to be a popular course because most of the tables were occupied. It wasn’t long before one of the instructors presented herself at an adjacent table and embarked upon a well-rehearsed routine that captured our interest.

A second instructor sashayed up and enquired whether we would be interested in what she had to offer. We smiled graciously and said we were fine, thank you very much, and returned our attention to the neighbouring table.

To cut a short story even shorter, she wilfully accused us of something called roofkyk. Like all the best Afrikaans words, there is no English equivalent. We weren’t to know, but apparently it is considered vulgar and disrespectful to piggyback off a tutorial someone else is paying for. We were quite literally guilty of stealing a look.

Which brings me to the matter at hand, so to speak. For those with jobs, today is the day that your employer remunerates you for your services. It is also the day that I remind you, The People, of your commitment to keep me and my cat in food and beer on condition that I keep writing.

PayFast will help you stick to your end of the bargain. If you take out a monthly subscription for one year, I’ll throw in a free ebook of your choice.

Roofkyk must fall.


Thank you. Ngiyabonga. Mahalo.

Before the weekend gets underway and everything goes to hell in a handbasket, I’d just like to say thank you to everyone who has contributed to my fun-raising campaign. You’re very generous and are absolutely going to heaven in the opposite of a handbasket.

Some of you asked about the possibility of subscribing on a monthly basis and I am happy to oblige. This function is now available in the sidebar on the right. If you do choose this option, I’ll throw in one of my books for free.

Now that I have been removed from the mainstream media’s assembly line and am no longer forced to comply with grim editorial restrictions and draconian deadlines, I feel somehow lighter. Poorer, but lighter. As if I’ve been freshly unshackled. It’s probably because I no longer have a boss.

Hang on. Since I am now writing exclusively for you, the people, this means that everyone who follows my site is in effect my boss. In other words, I have 51 483 bosses.

Be gentle.