Tuesday, November 29, 2011

I will stop when I'm President - PM promises

Prime Minister Morgan Tsvangirai has promised to stop all this nonsense once he becomes President.

Some critics say his recent behaviour is not fit for a President.

But addressing journalists, The PM responded cleverly: “I will stop this nonsense once I become President. So this question of whether or not this is good behaviour for a President is a silly question because I'm not yet President. As soon as I am President, I will stop.”

His promise to stop should put an end to all the bad talk in the undemocratic newspapers, which have been saying Mr Tsvangirai will not be a good President if he keeps sowing where he refuses to harvest.

This is also The Pry Minister's first public admission. Initially, The PM’s office had denied the reports. His spokesman, Luke Tamborinyoka, said this week: “My brother, if you believe that The PM knows Locadia, you will believe that he also knew about the election runoff clause in the constitution.”

Tamborinyoka had also said that anyone who believed the reports would believe that Mandela was 12 years old and that Jonathan Moyo was white.

Quizzed by a  silly journalist whether The PM's admission means, inversely, that Mandela was now indeed 12 and that Jono was white, Tamborinyoka looked down at his toes, scratched his bum, picked his nose, and said: "At the time I said it, it seemed a very clever thing to say." He now realised it was pretty fucking dumb.

No, this is not what a 'diplomatic charm offensive' looks like'..This is the PM
with the unidentified woman whom The Herald has come to identify as 
the 'Unidentified White Woman'
Some commentators have been saying Mr Tsvangirai needs to cage his dragon pronto because it will devour his political credibility. This is not true, it turns out.

Random impregnation of women outside wedlock may actually be the first sign that he is in fact qualified to be President.

“Now he looks very presidential,” said a political commentator who refused to be named for fear of victimisation and stuff (ah, fuck it, the commentator is John Makumbe).


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Soldiers and pees in the garden

So the woman, who was once married to an army general but now is clearly not, and who once threatened to cut off an opposition leader's manhood, and who once scared all those poor white people by revealing a 20-year thirst for ‘white blood', has had her swimming pool peed in? Yes. By soldiers.

"Right now, as we speak, I have soldiers in my garden, peeing in my swimming pool. He (former Hubby General) put them there and I have to make a court application to get them out," she told The Standard.

It's a world where various torture and punishment methods are available to the vengeful; electric shocks to the dangly bits. Waterboarding. Mariah Carey. etc.

But, no, we must pause. And we must take in the image of a soldier, AK47 in one arm, weapon in the other, leaning back, peeing into a Borrowdale Brook pool. Pause. Take it in.

Then we must all marvel at the callous cold geniusnessity of it all.

Heard about the country where soldiers piss in the pools of their generals' lunatic ex-wives? Yes. That's where I live. Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else.











Wednesday, November 2, 2011

The revolution will be virtualised!

See that guy in the photo? Yeah, the one with the red cap. That, right there, is your regular Zimbo! That's like me, right there. Riots? What riots? Me? Join in? Fuck it. Sorry. I'm having my Schweppes Lemon!!



Yesterday, soon as I heard, from the excitable types, that the Arab riots had come (you see, they have to be 'brought') to Zimbabwe, I did not abandon everything, rush off to wear appropriate clothing – maybe like a red T-shirt with some open palm on it or sumthn - and then rush, singing and screaming, into the CBD to join in the ‘Arab-style’ riots that the MDC keeps praying to their MDC gods for.
No. I didn’t.

I, like the regular Zimbo that I am, did what every regular Zimbo does when they hear something's brewing - drive home and turn on the TV.

And, no, the revolution was not being televised.
None of the "massive riots in Harare!!" the twitterati and other desktop revolutionaries had been orgasming over was on TV. Not on eNews or CNN or stuff. Only Kim Kardashian and her ass.

Ah, yes, I said to myself. This is just how I like my 'riots in Zimbabwe'. Only on the excitable internets. Only on the Twitters and Facebooks. At worst, only on the TV, and done by someone else. On my behalf. Never in my street. Never me.
So I switched the channel. And I chilled.

Nothing here. Move right along.

When you're ready to revolt, tell me what time it will be televised. And I will be there in a flash. Right there. On the sofa. Twitter in one hand. Schweppes Lemon in the other.