DEAR SIR, YOU MUST HAVE THE WRONG INBOX. I AM NOT A TURD-ANGLER

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.

 

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A RACIST FUCK OFF

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Every now and again, in my grand exploration to explain what I learned from 50 fuckoffs, a fuck off stops me in my tracks and makes me rethink fuckwhitism, sexism, ageism and the toughest ism of them all – racism. This was one of those Fuckoffs.

Racial tensions are high in the country and indeed the world, so I find myself at times cautious to tell certain groups to ‘fuck off.’ Then I resent that I discriminate. Then I rebel that I have to be so ‘politically correct.’ Then I proceed cautiously.

This person (too scared to say man or guy for in case I slight someone’s sexual identity) clearly identifies with being brack. I erred on the side of ‘political correctness’ and did not tell the ‘person’ to fuck off outright, as I normally would. I explained that I don’t engage with people privately on my inbox and to please engage on my public page.

The brack man persisted. Can I tell a brack man to fuck off? Would that be considered racist? Then I thought it would be MORE racist to NOT tell a brack man to fuck off, because that would assume that I thought a brack man cannot handle being told to fuck off as well as any other group. (Much like many BEE programmes are racist/discriminatory because it assumes the person is not excellent and competent in themselves and need to be given a handup to count.)

So I told him to fuck off. I am an equal opportunity fuckoffist.

I do not care if you are brack, whrite, prink or prurple.

DO YOU HAVE A LICENCE FOR THAT PENIS, SIR?

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How desperate, pathetic and needy can one despairing/wretched penis carrier be? I suppose as fraught/pitiful as a vagina carrier.

This man approaches me with a ridiculous proposition of ‘cuddling whit him’. Can’t spell. Probably can’t cuddle. Has no clue, but lots of entitlement. Then when he is rejected, becomes a pathetic/pitiful/pitiable wretch.

On the bright side, he is not stupid. He just spelled the word ‘smart’ incorrectly. Go check it out.

What I want to know? DOES HE HAVE A LICENSE FOR HIS FUCKING PENIS? If he does, the license – and the thing- should be revoked. Oh wait! My license system has not been introduced yet. Here is how it should work:

All men should have their penises chopped off at birth. Don’t stop at the foreskin. Then, when they demonstrate the ability to be able to think without it and operate it responsibly they can apply to have it sewn back on. Maybe I’ll allow him to vote as well.

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But wait, there’s more! After I tell him to ‘fuck off’ he justifies in his own head that HE stopped the communication. But he hasn’t. He is still contacting me.

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This guy has not passed the test. Choppity-chop. Splurt. And it is not as if I didn’t give him a chance to get his learners’ license. I was kinder to him than most at the outset.

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Pass the fucking meat cleaver.