Lunch was chez Tall Accountant in leafy Fernwood with some lovely people and consisted of one of the biggest chicken salads ever created.
Seriously, it took three people just to carry the bowl. And there were only six of us there. Chicken salad sandwiches for the TA’s lunchtime fare this week, I feel.
Now I know what it’s like to be Jacob Zuma. Sort of, anyway. Pressing the flesh of prospective voters in hope of getting an X in your box.
Of course, there are some differences. I have more hair. He has more chance of winning his election.
Everyone has heard of the ANC, but unbelievably, I met some people today who hadn’t heard of 6000 miles… Yes, I was shocked too.
He didn’t have a MASSIVE chicken salad for lunch today*. I did. Maybe there’s other stuff too, who knows?
What Jacob Zuma wishes he did have, apart from my good looks, charm and popularity among white people is a golden widget, like the one above. I have it on good authority that he is desperate for one and has even instructed mini-me, aka Julius Malema, to kill to get one. Well, Msholozi, you’re not having mine, even if you turn up with your mashini wam blazing.
Of course, no-one is 100% sure if JZ is guilty of corruption. I’m beginning to wonder if even he can actually remember. However, I know for a fact that I am pure as the driven snow when it comes to matters of giving and receiving illicit payments. So far, anyway. But as the desperation mounts and rumours begin to spread about who is in front and how far I am behind, that could all change. Probably around Wednesday.
Want to help out? Copy and Paste http://tr.im/vote6k into all the emails you send for the rest of this month.
Because – as Jacob would say – working together, we can do more.
* This is complete guesswork.