freshly sharpened pencils...

uyazi ukuthini, angibasol' abazali bami for saying the things they say ngabantu abavela enyakatho lase mpumalanga kwelakithi. some random jaha messaged me encwadini lobuso and so i phendula-ed in a very nice and friendly manner ngesintu. nansi i-transcript.

jaha lenyakatho: makadiko vakuru kurisei ikoko
mina wasezansi: tiripo! hatshi sikhona, linjani lina khonangapho?
jaha lenyakatho: ndarasika nechindeki's icho baba

yindab' abantu laba benje so? kuyangicaphula mina. ngiphelelwe! i need a good response. alikelingincedise phela bobhoyi!

this guy at work has sorta promised to lend me is jalopy ford escort. he's getting it smog checked and registered and i'll be good to go. i like those cars. in fact back home we have a 1974 model which my 'rents never got around to selling it because of the sentimental value that it had appreciated over time. why sell to someone who'll abuse while we would drive it once a week and polish it for four hours?

we love that car to bits. it's orange in colour and everytime i'd drive it, friends would call it the "yellow submarine" - it's so old you'd wonder when it would sink! that never seemed to bother us. the fact that it got us from alpha to beta mattered. forget that some pipes are sunga-ed with rekeni, forget that half the rear view mirror's missing, forget that second gear doesn't really work and that you have to skip from one to three, forget that you avoid driving it when it rains - you might get wet, forget all those things. we love our old escort!

but one day... there's always a "but" to every tale. i was home for the weekend. this is when i was working in some forgotten school. my mama asked me to take it for a spin because the car hadn't been moved for at least 6 weeks. anything for our little old lady. the battery had obviously died and we spent half an hour pushing it down our street [full view of the neighbours] until we got it working. the plan was to take it to mr exhaust, mr tyre [duze leBSS] and get the battery recharged.

i casually drove into town, nursing it every step of the way making sure that it didn't decide to die out on me. when i got to 4th ave and robert mugabe way, i was suddenly getting stares from people. unbeknownst to me, i was leaving a trail of smoke behind [half the rear view mirror was missing]. i pull into my destination and the guy comes running out of the shop screaming, "imota yakho iyatsha!" - meaning, your car's burning. here's the scene: i'm surrounded by plenty parked cars outside a workshop with goodness knows what's flammable. a brand new gas station is across the road. ergo, potential disaster.

so i jump out, the car's still moving, i jump back in, turn off the ignition, jump out, look around, oh ma gaad, jump back in, take it out of gear, jump out, start pushing backwards - alone! everyone from the nearby busy market street - for those who know sixth ave in skies - is staring in total awe. jump back in pull the bonnet thingie, jump back out, yank the hood up and thankfully some guy puts the fire out. by this time, a crowd has gathered - and typical of abantu - they are all staring and whispering to each each.

i rush to my aunt maddy who has a pharmacy on the same block. she's practically my second mother. she called my mama to let her know that our darling car had became a bit too hot to handle. ma just laughed it off but i knew she also grieving. anyhoo, we got her towed home and almost immediately called uncle silas next door. he's fixed our cars for yonks!

i took him at least 12 months to breathe some air into her lungs. she's got bits of a datsun 120Y under that hood but she is moving now. she remains with a big burn scar however. we kept it as a reminder to the day my life literally flashed back at me!

[i overheard this at the office]

guy: has anyone ever told you thatt you're beautiful?
girl: actually yeah, i get lotsa compliments!
guy: gee, i'm not surprised.
girl: well, if it wasn't for the nose job, the chin lipo, the fake tan, the fake nails, the hair extensions, the atkins diet and a very strict trainer at the gym, i really dont know where i'd be!

this is california bay-bee!

the reason why i haven't started driving yet is because i figured i need the money more than the convenience. besides i get to meet the real people of america. ergo, i still take the train. i had a long lunch - one of the days - and decided to go check out eBay on north first street.

these kids get on the train. one is wearing a shirt and tie, the other a t-shirt.

t-shirt kid: so how long have you been on probation
with tie kid: about a year [this is when my cellphone was brought out recording purposes]
t: that long!
w: yeah, i keep on getting caught violating. first i was on for six weeks, then it was extended to three months, then six, then a year, then i went to prison and when i got out then gave me a year's probation. [methinks: okay, this kid's into some crazy sheeee]
t: that's real bad man, this is first time on probation.
w: really, how old are you?
t: 19, turn 20 next month.
w: you're 19 and this your first time. man, i was 12 when i went on my first probation. [methinks: oh my goodness, he's actually bragging]
t: yeah, but i've been to prison five times [methinks: okay, we have a contest]
w: so do you still do some shit.
t: yeah i do but stop five days before i get tested.
w: you also get tested every two weeks?
t: yeah i do.
w: you know what i do, i still do coke, weed and some other shit and the day before i get tested i drink a glass of baking soda in water.
t: does it work?
w: of course it does. what you have to do is take a good piss before you drink it. make sure you get rid of all the piss in your system, drink it and dont piss until you go in for testing.
t: and that works?
w: it works for me and i've never been caught [methinks: hang on, this is the kid who has had his probation periodically extended because he has been caught several times]
t: i should try that [methinks: you gotta be stupid]

i love this country!

we had a small saint pats dinner on sunday [sorry my blogs suffer from delayed action] and we had couple of pints of guinness. actually, copious amounts. shona and scott from across the road are of irish heritage and so they had plenty of stash to share.

dinner was cool. plenty potato, carrot, asparugus, spam, corned beef... you know the stuff the had to stop the famine all those centuries ago. to be honest i cannot stand guinness: bitter, thick and has to be chewed before swallowing. what really gets me is the after taste, or rather the trail of foam leading from the tip of tongue through the buccal cavity straight past the pharynx and down the oesophagus. makes you squeasy, innit? however, after a few sips [pints maybe], the tastes buds adjust according and the rest just flows.

then it was time to confess to our patron saint, patrick.

me first [always the one who's mawala-rizing!]: when i was 13 in my first year of high school [boarding school too] i, with the help of a friend who shall remain nameless - actually it was ross - went shopping in the local village [growth point!] near the school. now the village at the time had a plethora of speciality shops, boutiques, sidewalk cafes and very lively street markets. unfortunately for us, it was almost end of term and hence had very little, if any, cash reserves. we ventured into a shop called sheelah's. i can still vividly recall the shop assistant perched on a wooden crate by the door, staring into oblivion with a feather duster clamped under her armpit, picking her teeth with a piece of grass from a mthanyelo. ross, being the white guy, acted as decoy whilst i went in for the kill. you know, the white guy keeps chips while the black guy steals. just like in the movies. i sauntered to the back of the store started searching frantically for anything edible that was stealable. i went in for the kill, stuck my stash inside my blazer pocket and we ran for it, leaving the shop keeper staring into oblivion. what was new? coast clear, i took out my prize possesion: a jar of peanut butter. as so, we spent the rest of the afternoon scooping peanut butter behind the hammond huts with our fingers. man, was it good!

this is one of those arb stories at the back of my head.

you know 18 months ago, a couple of weeks before my summer break to toronto, i paid my dentist a visit. it had been a long while and hence i needed two cleaning sessions (one for each layer of build up) and two or three fillings. the cleaning went really well - gums being prodded and jabbed by some instrument. then came the fillings days later.

however, one of my fillings developed a life of its own and decided to cause some sort of irration. yeah, you know when you gum decides "hell no!" and rejects the foreign body. there's obviously plenty pain involved. and we know just how bad a toothache can be.

anyhoo, this was me on a saturday in bristol, total agony, i call the emergency hotline and they told me to wait until monday. 48 hours of torture. i was advised to seek some pain remedies from my local chemist. okay. i walked from my little studio to cheltenham road by the arches (prime student area in bristol) and bang, there's a seedy chinese shop which sells all sorts of cures from the far east. i'm sure they have something for an aching tooth. i walk over to the pleasant man with his inviting smile.

me: do you have anything for a toothache?
him: excuse me.
me: do.. you.. have.. any.. thing.. for.. a.. tooth.. ache..?
him: ah, wait right there.

he walks around to the back. 17 seconds pass. he walks back to the counter with a small box the size of a matchbox in his hand. he shows it to me. it has a man's face on it. the man is smiling.

him: you take this, a little bit and you rub it.
me: what's a little bit?
him: a tiny little bit and you rub on there until it is hard.
me: until what's hard?
him: you rub this down there until it is hard [gesturing to the area below my belt]
me: hang on. i need something for my toothache. my tooth hurts. [finger point inside mouth]
him: oh oh, sorry. i thought you meant two eggs.

the laughter that followed cured me for a good two days.

.. on the train. okay she's vietnamese. her phone rings. she answers the call. she starts screaming into the mouth piece. chiang wawa sheng thong thu fucking stupid chow pho shwa ho yong hung foo fucking stupid hee tho chow wa theo uu ngo phui chu thung fucking stupid. she hangs up the phone. the phone rings. chiang chu how hong fucking stupid hong chu phui thou gong fong kong fucking stupid...

the train driver comes out of his little driving cabin. kicks her off the train. she replys. thou chung fong knog thu phui pho fucking stupid, as she calmly exits the carriage. well good morning america!

saturday last was a blast. one of my superior's other half had a birthday party and so off to the mdanso we went. [sorry for the late entry!]

it was a rather chilly evening. the moon was out and the neighbours dogs were barking. i had no trouble finding the place. emman b [friend in new york] interrupted me with a very drunk phone call from some high society cognac party in manhattan. another reason for me to hate him. he works on wall street and brags about the banker's wives he bonks. yes emman b. you heard me right.

anyhoo, back to the party in the valley. anyone and everyone from the office was there. even the ones who come across as the 'non-party' types. just as i got there i was greeted by a massive fire spitting display from a woman fire-eater. wow. okay. i guess they really go all out here to impress. typical californians. yeah, it was a spectacular display and litttle african soul in me was in awe.

afterwards, i interrogated dann for the nearest cervezas. yes, just point me to the beers and i'll be happy. i then started my beer marathon - haven't gone out in yonks - and that heinekken went down nicely. then it was off to the taco bar outside - yes, they had these mexican guys making tacos outside! oooh, were they nice?

then the volume was cranked up, the lights were dimmed and the dj started playing the commercial hogwash which we all girate to aimlessly. but it was good. those moms who go off to pick up little jasons and ashleys from soccer practice and piano lessons had mutated into these disco divas. i was dragged onto the dance floor. no wonder those forty-something year olds didn't bring their geeky silicon valley husbands. they were out to grab our young boy flesh. at that point i switched on the msawawa mode and we started killing it. i should have taken my own music.

i now have been officially invited to the christmas office party. there's a fund at the office for my airticket. i cannot afford to miss the party of the year.

rewind just a bit. you know last december sims and i went to this club in sacramento called avalon. we got in for free as we were on the VIP guest list. dont ask me how. it was a really good evening - as most nights out are. it was also my first night out in cali.

after all the break dancing and admiring the latinas gracefully shaking their booties, we were interrupted by a crackling microphone and some black dude shouting inaudibly at the masses. there was to be a live act. we all know how annoying live acts can be in clubs. no offence at all but some of these wannabe tupacs and kenny latimores should remain wannabes in the shower.

after a good 120 seconds, some guy came onto the microphone. i really didn't hear his name during the introduction [didn't bother to find out] but he was supposedly the 'next usher'. and he could sing. the girls went wild, sims even said that he was going to be big. i didn't think much of it. people who disturb our fun at clubs!!

as it turns out, that guy happens to be ne-yo. his album is driving girls crazy this end. it's number 1 on the billboard charts - and his song, so sick [also number 1 on the singles chart], is being abused on the airwaves. i am so sick.

yes please. what a langa i have had! and ngikhanuk' ekhaya too good. who can i speak to ngesiNdex? damn!! anyhoo, 'tis 5.33 and i'm about to bounce. today was productive and i feel alive and happy. i had my first close. yes, the lady signed the dotted lines thanks to my fine work! this company will rake in lots of money because of moi. it sure feels good. one amp and a thousand volts - bursting right now. the coulombs are killing me! my adrenaline's on high! i just want to talk to someone but... there's no-one. hmmm... now i'm sad!

namhlanje i rediscovered the internet community that i have been neglecting. hi5, campushopper, facebook, friendster, bebo.. the thing is there are so many of these, it's really hard to keep up with the rest of the dot coms. please people forgive me. this work life cycle is really eating up my life. if only life was "the college life". to think that the next forty years will consist of more deadlines, closures, meetings, presentations, collars and ties, cold coffee, paper cuts, briefcases and insane office humour. i've got a feeling i'm going to love every bit of it.

this morning walking out of my door some dog came after me snarling and sheee. some guy was walking it without a leash. i'm used to vicious dogs, we used to have five! i didn't move hoping it would bite. a huge part of me wanted it to. it would hurt for a week or two but the lawsuit would last at least ten years. imagine the pain and suffering, loss of wages, skin grafts, etc. damn dog didn't bite!!