img_4743Who sends a fucking minion (dancing) to do their work for them? Modern, grown-ass men, that’s who!

What happened to conversation? Talking? Exchanging word and ideas, not emoticons? What happened to making an effort? To sending flowers – even those fake internet ones guys send you in your inbox. (Look, I’ll still tell you to fuck off, but still.)

The entire modern idea of courting and relationships seem to have changed, partly due to the internet. Whereas more information and connectivity seems like it should logically lead to more intense and meaningful liasons, it seems to have the opposite effect. I spoke to Miss Violet, a renowned sex writer and on-line dating expert. She told me that it appeared to her as if men don’t really want to ‘date’ on on-line dating sites. “They are too lazy.” she surmised. Futher reading led me to a plethora of pieces suggesting the modern idea of romance and relationship is expedient, not designed to last long with parties not prepared to commit, overcome problems or have a desire to go beyond the ‘honeymoon phase.’

So the moment the endorphins quieten down. you dump the person, holding them up to unrealistically high expectations, while feeling entitled to have the ‘perfect’ romance because idiots like Oprah Winfrey and Tony Robbins have been telling people that they are beautifu l just the way they are, are entitled to be who they are and love themselves for whom they are and that they can demand that acceptance from other people and that they should not settle – because they are, well so bloody special.

Put in another way, men go onto the internet to wank. Every time you answer a ‘hi’ or acknowledge the fucking minion, they have a little emotional pieltrek. But they are too bloody lazy to do it themselves, so they want to see you do it vicariously.


The above exchange is thus the perfect modern relationship and probably only lasted slightly shorter.

“Hi.” (Walks into the room and woos woman)

“Sends Minion” (Entertaining courtship and liason, which has woman in stitches, but soon blows over when she realises something has gone awry.)

“Fokof” (Woman finally realises man is not good enough for her and is, in fact, a twat)

“Jy ook.” (Man convinces himself it is not his fault and walks off in a huff.)


So listen here, old Walglike Wallie, go and wank in your own time onto your own computer. Stay away from mine.











Version 2I told this guy to fuck off. He basically replied: “Ok.”

I like this guy’s attitude towards life. I have this image of him sitting there, hedging his bets. “She can say: ‘yes’. She can say: ‘no’.” And he is prepared to accept either outcome. No aggression. No entitlement. Just moving on.

He doesn’t play Roulette. In the game of LIFE, he plays Snakes ‘n Ladders. He does not commit to a particular outcome – he just plays the game. Sometimes up, sometimes down. Keep rolling them dice. Philosophically , an advanced way to live.

He knows that HATE has 4 letters. So does LOVE. FAILURE has 7 letters, so has SUCCESS. HURT has 4 letters, so does HEAL.

Respect, squire. Here’s 7 letters for you:


[Translation of Inbox conversation, originally in Afrikaans, local language in South Africa]

‘What are you doing? Nice day to you” (Misspelt. Juvenile grammar)

“Fuck off.”



Version 2Pielkop Poggenpoel over here sends me a message ‘Hi.’

I politely explain that he should refrain from inboxing me otherwise I shall have to resort to asking him to expedite himself in a sexual manner.

He chirps back. I tell him to ‘fokof’ (fuck off in Afrikaans)

Old Pielkop then replies: ‘Gaan vang ‘n kak.’

Loosely translated in English it could mean ‘Go chase a shit’ or ‘Go catch a turd’ or ‘Go angling for poos.” It is a derivation from the more popular; “Gaan kak” which would mean “Go shit” or ‘Go for a shit.” I assume there are whole herds or turds swimming around that Afrikaans people so often try and get others to herd them.

But it speaks volumes of Pielkop’s attitude towards women. He approaches people with the most inane opening line and when they politely ask to be left alone, he becomes abusive. Really, fuckface?

Dear Sir, you must have the wrong inbox. I am not turd-herder. Might I suggest you go and look in the mirror for the biggest piece of shit you will find?  You sir, are the Chief-Drol in the sewerage farm. Catch yourself – looking like a poepol (asshole).

Yours sincerely.

Fuck off.