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Culture, Reality

Turds, Gin and Aids

by Montle Moorosi, image by Billy Pineapples / 20.05.2010

My uncle is crazy, I love him to bits and even though he’s in his sixties he could still do with a positive male role model in his life, like the Dalai Lama or Nathaniel. Malome (Uncle) Sampie loves to drink Gordon’s gin with my grandmother and when he gets really drunk he sometimes hallucinates the most hilarious things in the world, like the time my mother made him a sandwich and he accused her of biting the bread with her butt cheeks. You see why I love him? Last year he drove drunk on Lesotho’s notoriously bumpy gravel roads which have no street lights with his car lights off and drove into a 70 year woman crossing the road and subsequently killed her, he also didn’t have a drivers licence and soon saw himself getting death threats from the old woman’s family and of course the police… which isn’t too cool unless you’re one of those people who get turned on by car accidents.

I also love drinking Gordon’s gin. It’s in my blood, it’s what I was sent to earth to do, and I too have had my fair share of “moments” like writing off three cars, stealing giant pot plants from Keith Kirsten and putting my tongue on an electric fence for shits and giggles. And I got away with most of these things, but once I was busted by the cops for smoking weed and only then did I get a critical beat down in the middle of my suburb from my father and the police man who caught me, all the white neighbours were watching in shock and disgust but pretending not to look while some black and Indian school kids were laughing and pointing at me, then the police man made me swallow the joint which was the size of Noleen’s thumb, if she was a proctologist.

Human beings and their ways, one would think that the world is actually run by a giant turd that wears horn rimmed glasses, and emo toupee with a fringe and shares the same sense of humour with Mel Gibson. Mandoza recently killed two people from a drunken driving accident, and all he had to do was to pay for the victims funerals, and a meagre sum of money to the families for a few months, while a source who would not like to be identified was once arrested for having the roach of a joint in his pocket when he was 14 years old, he was sent to prison because the holding cells were full and he stayed there for two weeks awaiting trial and was raped repeatedly by gangs of hardened criminals who gave him Aids and a permanent melancholic glaze in his eyes.

From all this it would be fair to say that alcohol is indeed considered the lesser evil by society despite what the giant turd wearing horn rimmed glasses might think, because apartheid violence was fuelled by brandy and coke, or better known to our beloved police force as “polisie koffie”. Let’s face the facts here, Eugene De Kock and his boys at Vlakplaas were a bunch of pussies. Yes they had braai’s while two feet away from them where they were burning the remains of ANC activists and askaris, but they needed Dutch courage to pull this off. They spent just as much time drinking brandy and coke as they did killing, unlike my nigga Hitler who only needed methamphetamine and some good old fashioned delusions of grandeur. When I went to a “mental clinic” for “depression” I found out all the heroin addicts had told their employers they had admitted themselves in for alcohol so they didn’t lose their jobs when they got released. Here I met a man named Martinus Halgryn, who say’s he was a Senior officer with the Krugersdorp police, he was also Eugene De Kocks’s handler which means he was the man who gave Eugene his missions and whatever was needed according to him to “get the job done”, which also included stocking up the bar at Vlakplaas with Castles, and Chivas Regal for the senior officers.
“So did you ever torture someone? Or should I say interrogate?” I asked him.
“Ja, plenty of times, lots of interrogations.” He said nonchalantly in broken English and a sturdy Afrikaans accent.
“What did you do? Tube them?” Tubing is a torture technique whereby the suspect is suffocated with a tire tube until his feet start to kick or they piss on themselves.
“I electrocute. We take 200 watts, put on his balls and make you shit a drol this big.” He gestures with his hand the size of the turd.
Martinus had checked himself into rehab to impress the judge for an upcoming court case in-order to avoid doing some time in prison. Martinus was caught shoplifting a box of wine from ShopRite in Krugersdorp.
“How did you get caught?” I asked him not sure whether to punch him or laugh at him.
“I took it and walk out, den dey say say come wif me”. Everyday Martinus had a different name for me like “malala pipe” which means hobo and my favourite “masipa” which means shit, and due to the dementia he suffered from years of drinking a case of beers a day by himself, he claimed he never remembered calling me these names when I threatened to “kick him in his poes”.

Dr Chalmers of Crescent clinic Johannesburg says that prolonged alcohol abuse causes dementia and severe short term memory loss, “Most people don’t know this but alcohol withdrawal is harder to treat than any other drug, even worse than heroin because the withdrawals of alcoholics are so bad there’s a very high chance they could die”. Dr. Chalmers said quite solemnly. “Have you ever seen a full blown alcoholic before? Do you know what they have to do?” She suddenly asked me.
“I think so. They go to Melville and beat their wives?” I said trying to lighten up the conversation.
“No, not quite, I’ve never been to Melville, but I do know that they have to wear adult diapers because they even lose control of their bowel movements”.
“I don’t… well at least not yet.” I finished off. Dr Chalmers was not too stoked with me at all.

Every year millions of Rands are spent on advertising of liquor, from billboards of Rakim drinking Hennessy (apparently it makes you a better rapper or something) to the countless adverts on television about your “china’s, china’s” and how “Vuyo is such a big, big dreamer”. The ratio of alcohol adverts on weekends to any other adverts during a commercial break are 3 out of 5, and this increases on weekends and intensively during big sport games. I wish there were billboards with the phone numbers of the best chronic in South After and adverts starring Joey Rasdien for pure liquid LSD at wholesale prices. So far the only proactive measures taken to show the adverse side effects of liquor is SAB’s current campaign on the dangers of drunken driving and Cape Town’s banning of cheap papsak’s which have been fucking up bergies since Jan Van Riebeeck first dipped into the chocolate. I am no genius but I believe its easy to conclude that alcohol is considered the lesser evil because it is legal and thus it has a tendency to be abused and the fact that you don’t have to snort it, inject it or smoke it makes it even more appealing and socially viable. And trust me its much easier to bribe your way out of a drunken driving offence as opposed to possession of cocaine, police men love to drink drink, judges sip on Johnny Walker blue while heroin addicts will sip on semen for their next hit. I was once drunk on cheap wine, I was living in Cape Town at the time and my landlord was a bible basher who also happened to be addicted to tik, once when I was drunk and he was trying to preach to me I told him to “fuck off” and that “Jesus is a fag alcoholic”, obviously he didn’t like this at all and he proceeded to stab me with a cork screw in my ribs, which leads me to my second conclusion which isn’t that much different from the first. There is no lesser evil, all you can do is try to avoid reading articles like this and enjoy your life however you want it, whether its shitting in your pants or getting Aids were all going to die anyway.

Illustration © and courtesy Billy Pineapples.

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