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Our South African Boer Cousins 1
by Albert Russo

Ass-side: Boer in Afrikaans, is pronounced Burrrah

Cousin Kif raises chickens, turkeys, rabbits, pigs, cows and all the bull that goes with it, stink- and crapwise - you have guessed, haven't you, that I ain't no country girl, and that when Bonka and I are thrust into similar situashuns, we look like two crazed bees in a bloomin' bonnet, and that's when I feel like squashing him to bits coz he's the one to suggest such nannities (a little girl can't say 'inanities', she would sound like a nannygoat).

Our cousin only wears khaki shorts that make his thick legs look like gammons, while his safari shirt is so tight his nipples seem to be aiming at you, ready to fire. His arms are so bushy you could knot them in dozens of little braids, ditto for the hairs that sprout out of his torso, on account that the three upper buttons have exploded long ago. His barrel-like wifey is called Maatje (pronounce Mahh - tcha) and obediently repeats everything her hubby says, like she is the fat puppet of an even fatter ventriloquist. They seem to get on famously, even tho she has a mustache, which she tries to hide under layers of powder - actually, if she added some more of this heavy makeup she could perform in a big deparment store as Mother Christmas, coz nowadays women can do all the jobs under the sun, thanks to felinism.

The couple - with their size, I would say the quadruple - has two kids (Goddess knows how large they are) have been sent to boarding school north of here in a town called Louis Trichardt, which lies near the border with Zimbabwe - look at the map, I ain't your geography teacher, ok!

The quadrangle's livingroom is adorned with beastly tusks that are not one bit adorable, on the contrary, they look terrifying, specially when half the lights are off. They're Kif's hunting trophees. A good thing he's no longer allowed to go after the big game like he used to, coz with people like him we would soon have no big cats or elephants left - between you and me, they can continue to train themselves on scorpions, crocodiles and snakes, on account that I have no compashun whatsoever for them nasty bummers.

Buddhists apparently believe we shouldn't kill any living being, not even the damn mosquitoes that cause malaria and sleeping sickness. I lovya good old Buddha, but not the damn critters; tell me tho, how come you're always bulging on all sides, if you don't eat any meat or fish? I've never heard of anyone becoming obese, just munching carrots and raw spinach, or having avocado for an entrée and a pear or a kiwi for dessert!"

Kif misses the good old times (that's apartheid, dummy) where he could hunt all the animals he wanted, and he doesn't stop lashing out against the new government, treating them as a bunch of kaffirs who dare dictate him what to do.

From the GOSH ZAPINETTE! series (15 episodes in all)
8/9//21 Excerpted from Zulu Zapy wins the Rainbow Nation, by Albert Russo.