I am one the female noisemakers in the country who have discovered that it is not an easy place for mediocrity and have so obviously failed to make an impact with my music, in spite of some recent much ado about a big nothing.
So having realised that even the Beyonces of this world (of whose class I will never be) supplement their music income through other means, I got onto my supple and lithe little back to earn my money the old fashioned way.
Thus I welcome the attentions of various rich men including the problematic husband of another female singer in the country.
With the money that they pay me for my services I have managed to start a retail business in which I use the wares then put them back on the shelf. Yes, one day the merchandise is not there and the next it will be back again.
I am not being cheap, mind you, but just using overrated brand value to advertise my business. Never mind that I do not quite have a killer body which is definitely not getting any younger from all those activities I undertake in a supine position, well- most of the time.
I have become a model for how women pull each other down after I fired one of my workers for foolishly falling pregnant.
This girl happens to be the child of another self-elevating woman who thinks she is a celebrity on account of a rather mediocre career in the performing arts.
I think people are being unkind to say that I was harsh with the little idiot.
After all have I not given her a perfect example of how a woman can do everything and anything without the embarrassing result of a fatherless child?
Parties not fund-raisers
We all know that the birthday craze has hit town and every nobody now thinks that the day they were born should be celebrated just like the 21st of February. Okay we have no problem with copycats who model themselves on the President and we like the parties they throw.
Like the last one where the gentleman who once pensioned off workers with two pairs of shoes threw a massive one where we drank the good stuff to our hearts’ content.
We mean the guy busy splashing money on expensive hearses while some workers of his have to auction off his property to get their dues, tsk!
But that is not the problem here. What we do not like is him and others like that lady who changed her surname a few months ago in the hope of changing it again in the near future having these big dos and inviting those that they think are the big shots to party. Then they blatantly ask for presents!
Thank goodness the who-is-who is not stupid and after stuffing their faces and drinking their fill they simply ignore the demand for payment. These upstarts who started at the bottom and are now here are really a trial to their circles of acquaintances.
Lesson #33 for clueless idiots: Parties are not fund-raisers!
Soul Jah Love, the foul-mouthed one, seems to think that notoriety is the mark of musical excellence and his behaviour is getting worse by the day.
The other week we kindly skirted around the story of him leaving a stinking pile of his post-digestion bodily discharge on the bed linen of a Mutare hotel, lodge or whatever at the time that he was supposed to be performing.
We sensitively avoided guffawing at his manager’s pathetic attempt to cover the stench with air freshener when that person claimed that the singer had failed to perform due to a diabetic attack rather than a bronco-induced incapacitation and mess up.
But did that gentleman respect our reticence? No, he must go and fight with a female from the oldest profession in the acknowledged red light district before getting himself arrested after arrogantly returning to Mutare without first clearing his heap of bronco human waste.
Would someone please tell this young man that his success at this bubblegum noise they call Zim dancehall music is in no way a mark of genius?
Will the real Dube just go?
We woke up to screaming headlines saying that Dube had quit ZIFA. We danced, we sang and quickly ordered one round even if it was so early in the morning.
We only realised that it was the wrong Dube when we had finished our drinks and were looking around for a benevolent benefactor to buy the next round and we then got around to reading the actual article not just the headlines. What a big let down!
But now that the feelings of the nation have been made so blatantly clear and it is obvious that except for one Jonathan Mashingaidze and similarly compromised cohorts there is no one else who wants to see the face of Cuthbert Dube anymore, can this guy just go.
Does he want a tsunami to dislodge him? The other institution that he left is doing perfectly well without him so what makes him think that ZIFA will not experience the same breath of fresh air?
We are thinking of getting some of these witless noise makers running around the city a real job, tivatsvagire mabasa. Instead of running like those possessed by the money-making familiars of their clans (kunge vakagarwa nezvikwambo zvekumadzinza kwavo) maybe these directionless youths could go around collecting signatures on a petition of Citizens Against Cuthbert Dube.
We will not only sign it very quickly, we will even buy these witless young men drinks and shoes for their tireless feet. We are sure that within two weeks there would be enough signature to warrant the right attention and Dube will be shown the door forthwith.
We would do it ourselves, but unfortunately we really cannot find the time outside our busy drinking schedule.
We have not made it a secret that we never liked this greasy faced guy for looking us in the eye and promising that whatever happened things would be okay.
Then he got us into that mad time when we chased around after everything from fuel to bread and forgot what it was that we liked to drink as we wet our throats with whatever we could get.
Now he tells us that he will not honour a contract that he signed because it was illegal to deal in foreign currency at the time.
This is when we wish we had bothered go to school and were fully fledged lawyers. We would ask your former Governor when he realised the illegality of the deal and then argue that he must meet the cost of his own ignorance if such it was as it is no defence in cases of crime.
Last Call — Saskamu
is an acronym?
We know that for chombe to mean sellouts came from that infamous man whose links with the murderous CIA led to the assassination of Patrice Lumumba.
We know that jomupii came to mean large tin mugs after such branded containers were stolen from GMP mines by returning Wenerans (vaidzoka kubva Wenera).
Now one Chofamba Sithole has kindly explained on Facebook how we came to refer to those of us who are not God’s brightest creatures as masaskamu.
And before you rush with any reverse racist nonsense please remember the word “zimukeya” from Zimcare.
Thank you, Mr Sithole, sir. Now would someone please explain where the word bharanzi came from?
Till next week, bottoms up!
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