HUMOUR

Spring Day

I actually shouldn't be excited about the coming of Spring since it brings with it many other problems. The only reason I think I should pop a champagne to its coming is that Women's Month finally came to an end. Wow, what a long month it was, I felt like it had 90 days. What with all the awards given, the gigs put together, I swear to you if you are a woman and you were responding to every invitation to attend a Women's Month gig, you would have gained like 16 kilograms by now. So, good riddance Women's Month, let's all be human again.

One of the things that make me dislike the coming of Spring is that the loonies in my ghetto who have killed half their brain cells through smoking pesticides all go on overdrive and start misfiring from early September. And you know when loonies misfire they rape babies and steal things. I don't know if I'm the only one who notices this change in behaviour or whether it's because there are more loonies per square kilometre in Shatale than there are at Sterkfontein Hospital.

One other thing you now this is that time when schoolkids in droves are seen being escorted out of classrooms to vomit. Those Winter Boogie Nights are now pitching for their payday, the fetus is stuck in your tiny womb and this month you cease being a girl and become a woman. When trees bloom even the demons that make the young men behave like maniacs also bloom. Men are hornier in Spring than Winter because science says that the heat makes their blood boil and their penises to look larger.

While the police have a moratorium on crime stats I stand to be corrected but I think that my friend in police intelligence once told me that there are more rapes, hijackings, housebreakings and thefts committed during Spring and Summer than Winter and Autumn. Which thug would go out to break in a house on a cold Winter night when he was supposed to be making that baby who would be on welfare next June? So, the loonies of this other small drinking hole called Valencia in my ghetto will be walking like zombies and oblivious to my digital camera during Spring and I know with September just a day old I have three months of doing a Census on mad people, pregnant chicks, aerobics fanatics etc. Sad but true. I guess even the TaeBo informecial will be back given the weight some folks put during the cold months as they munched on crisps and drank Coke while watching Judge Judy.

I also happen to have my own physical condition that likes Spring to make its presence felt and I am awaiting the arrival of the painful throat syndrome with abated breaths. There are times when there is more capital in dying than living, and I guess soon I will be on my deathbed praying every seventeen seconds.

So, this week I am going back to basics, my good friends in Jozi have produced two beautiful arts magazines that will pre-occupy me this week as I try to share with the world what made me clever over the past two weeks. First to be thoroughly reviewed will be Wordsetc which is a beautiful brand published by my friend Phakama, and which someday I am going to send for publication one beautiful article to complete the magazine. I want to propose a column called Last Bite, watch this space. I liked the one I got which was largely about Women's Month (how I hate this month).

Then there is another one called BAOBAB, which is edited by brilliant Sandile Ngidi and features beautiful writings by prolific writers I am going to tell you about later in the week. Then you are going to get a poetry book review and WHAT HAPPENS IN JOZI..., remember I was there for the whole of last week and it was wow! I always make Jozi look like a Winter night with a person you love after downing a bottle of red wine and sparking quality purple haze. Then I am going to crucify Siphiwo Mahala and Zukiswa Wanner for adding additional features to the portrait of The Last Supper. Don't miss this deep analysis.

So, let me talk to you from tomorrow and let's all respond when Spring knocks, 'Knock knock, anybody home?' 'Welcome we have been expecting you' Spring 2008, let the music begin