Why are people giving me directions around Jo’burg in terms of the cardinal points? “Travel north,” they say. Where the hell is north? I’m a city boy. There are no recognisable natural landmarks up here. I have no compass and I’m not navigating by the sun or the handle of the Big Dipper. Give me a road name.
Who is this “Checker 77” who is checking the quality of every pair of socks I buy, then putting little white stickers on them to let me know that everything’s OK? I’d like to send a thank-you card. Still, I don’t know how comfortable I am with the process if it includes putting on the socks. If so, I’m glad I’ve never found Checker 77’s little white sticker on a new pair of underwear.
Is anybody actually using “Head & Shoulders” shampoo to wash their shoulders?
What’s up with that asshole in the fancy car on my tail on the freeway? The traffic is going at the speed it’s going and all I’m doing is maintaining a safe following distance. We’re in this together and we’re going to get there when the traffic allows us, so calm the hell down. If you want to get there earlier, get out of bed earlier, or spend less time gelling your hair. And, by the way, Mr Muscle Shirt, balancing a single hand on top of the wheel is not a very effective way to steer a car.
When will I grow up enough to be able to ask a supermarket assistant: “Do you have nuts?” without breaking into a grin?
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