An interesting... vuvuzela

Dear Europeans, Cristiano Ronaldo and whingy white South Africans,

For the last few days, I hear you have been complaining about the noise of the vuvuzelas at games. As we've been blowing them consistently since Thursday night we haven't been able to hear you whining until now.

Well, quite frankly, I don't give two fucks. This is a South African World Cup. South Africans blow vuvuzelas when they watch football. Therefore, ipso facto vuvuzelas will be blown-o during World Cup matches. Surprisingly, people who regularly attend SA football matches (for example fans and players who have been attending matches for so many years that one without a vuvuzela would be ridiculous) have all their hearing faculties and have managed to play and communicate in this atmosphere.

Do you not think it is quite odd for visitors and non-SA-football fans to go into someone else's environment and tell them what to do?

Because you are going to your first or second game ever in SA, you think you have some kind of right to dictate the atmosphere, as if it doesn't apply to people who have been watching football here for 10+ years? How would you like it if they slipped into your w(h)ine club and told you how to run it?

When I watched football in London, some chap kept calling the referee a cunt... in front of what looked to be a 5/6 year old boy. So trust me, it's not as if football culture is better in other parts of the world. There's loads of shit not to like, and if you want to obsessively hate cultural aspects of our national game, then I suggest you stay at home and watch it on the SABC with the volume off.

We will continue blowing our vuvuzelas for these reasons:

1) The noise of 60 000 of them being blown at once is fucking fantastic.

2) It makes it harder for European teams. This is what we call HOME GROUND ADVANTAGE.

3) It is as much part of Mzansi as the Nelson Mandela is.

4) It annoys British people and Aussies. Two birds, one stone.

They're here to stay. Even if you whingy gits kick them out the stadiums, we will blow them on the outside. While you're having dinner. While you're trying to sleep. In fact, as soon as we can see you getting annoyed we'll blow them again.

Because you came and dictated what we can and can't do.

And you know how well South Africans react to that.

The vuvuzela is here to stay.

Love Simon.

:====================<()

(image is not to scale)

A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was a group of dwarves who lived in a forest in a land far far away from any ash cloud. They kept themselves fiscally active by mining after nationalising them a few years earlier than this story. On the way to work every morning they would sing "hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go" (to the tune of Dubula iBhunu) or Awulethe uMshini Wam'.

There they would happily take the gold out of the ground and sell it and give the excess proceeds to the people living in the forests (after all the mortgages, champagne funds, watch and CLK car payments had gone off).

One day as the miners were driving back home, Grumpy Shivambu spotted a shoe in the middle of the road so he stopped and looked around. And there, lying face down on the ground, sobbing her eyes out was the beautiful and well-known Princess Sonono Khoza of the Orlando Empire. Dopey Malema, who had stopped just behing Grumpy Floyd ran up to help and shouted "quickly, put her in my Jeep - it's that white one with no number plates. We can take her home and help her." Then Dopey Malema phoned the cops for a blue light escort home so they got there faster.

Upon arrival, it became apparent that Princess Khoza was pregnant. Then she gave birth to a boy which she called Happy Sindane. "Please", she begged of the dwarves, "Don't tell anyone I am here. My father, King Irvin of Orlando must not know I had this child out of wedlock." What Princess Sonono had not told them was the identity of the father of the baby.

It was the evil King JZ from the neighbouring kingdom of KwaZulu - the homeland of AmaZulu, the Golden Arrows and Maritzburg United. Sonono did not want her father ever knowing.

However, the (Sunday) Oracle got wind of the story and set about investigating. She dressed up ike Khanyi Mbau and headed for the forest. She found it easy to find the dwarves house as she followed the sounds of hoop-la at the chapmagne party. As she neared she saw one of the dwarves being thrown out, and someone shouted "BASTARD, TAKE THAT TENDENCY SOMEWHERE ELSE". The Oracle ran up to the ejected dwarf, and it was none other than Bashful Lehlogonolo Masoga who was so pissed off and told the Oracle everything.

The next day, the Orace told the kingdom and all hell broke loose, and there were tears and gnashing of teeth. King Irvin declared war against King JZ and the armies readied themselves singing "we will kill for Zuma" or "bring me my machine gun" or "dubula fokken anyone".

Behind the scenes, though, JZ knew how to win the war. He phoned King of the World, Sepp Fatter and asked if he could have the World Cup. If so he would allow him a nice blue-light convoy through the Kruger Park - twice. Fatter agreed immediately and all of a sardine, JZ controlled all the soccer in the world, weakening King Irvin's kingdom. "Boo-ya!" said King JZ as he had won the war easily.

Then, in a complicated deal, organised it so King Irvin got R500 million rand so they became friends again. And no one knows what the hell happened to Sonono because she hasn't been in the news since then.