Occupy Lakeside - Our Beautiful Village is under Attack

I am turning Tuesday around, I used to despise them. When I am in this kind of mood I am irritably charming.

A delivery guy was hanging outside the elevator by my offices.

“Can I help you there?” I asked, helpfully.

“Yes,” he retorted, “I am looking for Jan van Riebeek Attorneys.”

I looked at him, put my thumb in the air and motioned behind me.

“You’re going to have to go back…”

“To 1652.”

He and I may not be going for a beer anytime soon.

It's not gay - If you only use the GHD for half your hair.

And as you already probably have guessed, this post has nothing to do with Jan, but to create a link and make sure that I continue to intertwine this very article for smoother reading than a *ghost poo.

*ghost poo – A poo that needs little to no wiping.

Moose has been back in town from discovering Africa, so the bomb shelter has been a lot more interesting considering it does not revolve around me landing home and making myself a pot of noodle and bully beef, whilst I watch some arb series.

Moose is a 50 year old man, trapped in the body of a 26 year old…he is a reader.

We receive a monthly newsletter in our little village and had Moose not been a reader, I would have missed this little gem. It explains our little village perfectly, people walk and talk and chat, and children frolic – safe in the knowledge that there are only four to five adults that may give them a resting place in the boot of their cars.

We have one lady, who is bordering on 70, with boobs that are 18, who walks around our house four times a day, at a speed that the drug dealers across the road are jealous of. Never greets me – always greets Moose.

Moose read the newsletter, that, if I didn’t share with you. I could be accused of not doing a job of finding the ludicrous in the ridiculous.

 

Every fibre in my being enjoyed this, particularly the fact that I can picture this man, without ever seeing him. In this letter I can read his tone, I can see him, stroking the fine strands of hair over his skin filled scalp – breaking only, to wax the ends of his moustache.

“Pollute others with what vile language and profanities” – fuck me, after writing this letter, this man and his wife enjoyed lighting the fire, whilst reciting Othello to one another, giggling at the neighbours, numbing their minds with Grey’s Anatomy.  Who talks like that?

“I was appalled to get a message from my wife.” – I would be too, considering she has been stalking youths like a moral James Bond.

“One of the young men proceeded to drop his pants and take a wee in the park” – The way this is explained is that the lad shot his wang out in front of everyone, I am sure, as all of us are, this lad was using the tree as his camouflage aid.

“She was so shocked…She was struck speechless” – I have no words either.

There are too many here to highlight, but I like the idea of guarding our culture. We should band together and get rid of these awful, urinating, swearing and sexually active teenagers. In fact – we should get a group together, with any weapons we choose and make sure that they do not pollute our streets. Hell, I would even go so far as to extend a curfew.

Occupy Lakeside and let us not stand for this.

Come on guy, while I do not condone teenage sex, I kind of feel like someone was paying a little too much attention to the goings on here.

Your kids need an Xbox and a TV. This walking shit after dark is not only archaic, it is dangerous. Nobody deserves to see a man urinating in this day and age.

But, if you want to go youth hunting… Give me a shout.

Moose is ready.

DCMYF