About Advertise

Dear Chelsea

by Wian Van den Berg / 26.04.2013

Howzit Chelsea,

It’s Boetie here from South Africa. Let me just first say that I’m a big fan of your show. I always watch it after The Daily Show and Homeland. I guess your show is a bit like that book you would sometimes read to put yourself to sleep at night, zoning in and out of consciousness, never really knowing what happens in the end.

Now I can hear you and your panel asking yourself. Do they even get US TV channels in South Africa? Or where is South Africa? But you’d be surprized what you can do with a pair of pliers, a few meters of telephone cables courtesy of Telkom, and an empty oil drum cut in half with a blowtorch on a Saturday morning, when you really want to watch the Springboks play rugby later that afternoon.

Ja, we use drums for everything here in Africa. We use them for a braai or a BBQ as you guys call it in America. For playing music, for bar tables and bar stools, water and ice buckets, and off course to smuggle diesel across the border into Zimbabwe, because the fuel trucks are usually reserved for Mugabe’s VIP’s. My cousin once sat in a petrol queue for three days, true story.

Speaking of which, my reception is a bit blurry sometimes, so forgive me for asking. Are you also the host of that fashion police show? I don’t have HD yet and it’s difficult for me to spot the difference on my little black and white screen. The tube and speakers are also in a drum. You always seem to be a lot funnier when you are hosting that show.

Sorry, I’ve gone off topic. There’s an Elephant bull in my backyard taking a huge dump. It’s very distracting sometimes.

The reason why I’m writing to you guys is because of your show the other night, when you talked about “the first legal traditional African wedding between two men” as you phrased it.

Now for the first time, your show kept me up all night. I usually have to get up at 5 in the morning to milk the cows, but I overslept and milked too late, which is why the milk turned sour the next day. It left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. I guess the same way you and your panel’s comments did.

So when my auntie, who runs the local dairy, repeatedly hit me on the back of my head with her rolling pin, it struck me. You guys at your show might need my help, to maybe win back a few viewers from Africa?

After all, I live in Africa. So I can be your insider, to tell you what Africa is really like. Almost like an undercover agent. James Bond meets one of those journalists from News of the World. But we can’t tap phones, it’ll be impossible. Most of the telephone cables go missing in Africa. I think it’s those bloody Elephants.

Another benefit of having me on board is the fact that apart from farming, I also watch a lot of TV. I know the difference between your Idols and your X-factors, your NCIS and your CSI. Plus, my wife buys all of those Hollywood gossip magazines and I read them on my tractor, during my lunch break, in the field. And let me tell you, I’ve also become one hell of a director. Ever since me and wife got one of those VHS camera recorders, I’ve come to know a thing or two about making an action packed movie.

Which brings me to my next point, how to freshen up the show. Now don’t get me wrong, your show is fine as it is, but it just needs a little bit more action I think, to get the audience involved as well.

Firstly, I think you should maybe ask the writers from Fashion Police to also join you at your Lately show, and maybe a few of their stylists as well.

Secondly, I think you guys should adopt the word kak for your show in a catchphrase.

Bear with me.


It’s one of our many colourful words here in South Africa, and it’s basically a very poetic way of saying bullshit. For instance, instead of being rude about the Elephant that’s just been in my backyard, because after all they’ve been here much longer than all of us, we would rather say; the Elephant Bull has just had a kak in my backyard.

Then we throw in some of those buzzers they have on America’s got Talent. But the difference is that the audience members can press the buzzers and each time they press it, a big letter “K” lights up, instead of an “X.” And then they have to shout: “Stop talking kak.”

I think it’s a brilliant catch phrase, almost like: “Move that bus” or “Bitch stole my look.”

And each time they press it, they have to say why, and your panel only has 3 turns before you have to change the topic.

So for instance, when that Mathews guy said the other night: “It’s very exciting, everybody thought there would be chaos and rioting in the streets if there were gay marriages in Africa, but hey, safari so good, you know.”

Someone would have pressed the buzzer that lit up the first “K.”

Audience: “Stop talking kak.”

Mathews: “Why?”

Audience: “Because that’s the worst pun since; German sausages are the wurst.”

Then when that Wild guy said: “Homosexuality didn’t even exist in Africa until it was brought over there by the cast of Sex and the City 2, when they went to Morocco, true story.”

A buzzer would have lit up the second “K.”

Audience: “Stop talking kak.”

Wild: “Why?”

Audience: “Because there are 53 countries in Africa of which South Africa is one. South Africa has 11 national languages of which Zulu is one. The couple had a traditional Zulu wedding. Zulu culture originated from the Bantu speaking people in the 9th century and American culture is not even a quarter of century old. The distance between Morocco and South Africa is roughly about 8000 miles, in other words, a whole continent apart. And the last time we checked, the only thing America brought over to Africa, was a fleet of ships loaded with tons of empty shackles and chains, true story. You can Google it.”

And your final buzzer and third “K” would have come when Mathews commented again: “I was so happy for this couple; I wanted to send them something nice, to celebrate. But do you know how hard it is to track down where a gay African couple is registered? Turns out it’s a Pottery Hut.”

Audience: “Stop talking kak.”

Mathews: “Why?”

Audience: “Because everyone knows you bake pots in the sun in Africa. The huts are for cooking and sleeping.”

You see, by then, you would’ve had to change the topic and you would have completely avoided making your following comment: “They say they want to have children, and they’re going to have a surrogate. It’s like, sort of silly to have a surrogate in Africa, they have orphans growing on trees over there.”

I guess you can say that the lights and buzzers would work like a filter. The same way my tractor’s engine does, when it warns me with red lights and beeps, before something’s about to go horribly wrong. Or even the same way thinking should, before people chirp on that twitter thing.

You know what? I think we should patent this idea and sell it. Because I bet those Republicans in America could use our help as well. And Mitt is loaded. So before you know it, we’ll be able to buy Fox News and really turn things around.

Anyway, my wife is shouting at me from the kitchen, telling me to go and fetch the shovel from our garden shed. So I need to get moving. Fresh elephant kak is a great fertilizer for roses, true story.

I hope my ideas can help, and let me know if you guys need my input with anything else on your show.

Yours sincerely

Agent Boetie.


33   8