Dear Editor I have often wanted to contribute to your discourse on the health - political, business, social, environmental and otherwise of Port Elizabeth but, must admit, that I have been hesitant to release my words in to the wild wild web until now ............ The changes that you have made to the Letters to the Editor submissions page fill my heart with joy. Especially the section that allows me to send you a letter under a Nom de Plume - Pen Name for the less wordy in our … [Read more...] about Your Changes to Letters to the Editor
Dagless
My Family, Mr Williams, You Are Addling Their Brains
Dear Mr. Williams, I have a bone to pick with you. My family started to act all hupsy daisy and I thought to myself, "Who is to blame for this?". You are, Roly. You are. It all started innocently enough. I subscribed to The Herald, our town's daily gospel, as I thought it would do the family some good to immerse themselves in current affairs. I was pleasantly surprised to find my kids fighting over the paper within a week, less pleasantly surprised when my daughter sent her brother to … [Read more...] about My Family, Mr Williams, You Are Addling Their Brains
Your Re-Election, Councillor Davis, Fight For It
Dear Councillor Davis, Elections are drawing near. It's time to up your game. It's time to listen to Uncle Rick. Most of all: it's time to fuck shit up. Your politicking has become stale, Jeremy. These days, no one is interested in someone writing letters of complaint to the municipality on their behalf. No one is bothered about letters to the editor complaining about the fire department driving over their cat. No one cares. No one. Not one. There needs to be a shake-up in … [Read more...] about Your Re-Election, Councillor Davis, Fight For It
Your Coffee Shop, It’s Not Posh Enough
I like coffee. I prefer not to drink my coffee in the company of unsavoury people, though. There is a coffee shop near me called Vovo Telo. I emailed the owner recently to offer some friendly advice. I also emailed him my consultancy invoice. Dearest Matthew, I drop in on your coffee shop at regular intervals and leave consistently disappointed. Not because of the service. Not because of the food. Certainly not because of the coffee. It's the absolute lack of je ne sais quoi. Je ne … [Read more...] about Your Coffee Shop, It’s Not Posh Enough
Mr Mayor, A Job If You Please
After resigning from my position as Quality Inspector in Motherwell Cardboard Manufacturing Corp., I have become almost as bored as when I had a job. I always envied those guys in the Mandela Bay Municipality who make a ridiculous living while doing absolutely nothing so I thought - why not appeal to the big cheese himself for a position? As you can see from above picture, his deputy mayor is not giving him much support - see how he tirelessly drives busses while she snores … [Read more...] about Mr Mayor, A Job If You Please
Flowers, Councillor, Arrange Them
Dear Councillor Trent, I email you this afternoon to offer advice I believe will be fundamental to your future sense of self-satisfaction. You are an angry woman, Ms. Trent. An angry woman. If there's anything that upsets me in this world, it is a woman getting her knickers in a twist. Knickers should not be twisted. They should be well laundered with softening agent and then sit comfortably twixt buttocks. I have not laid eyes on your undergarments, but I suspect them to resemble a … [Read more...] about Flowers, Councillor, Arrange Them
Mr van Ronge We Need You
You may recall old Eugene Terreblanche departed this world last year after suffering the consequences of forgetting to tip a petrol pump attendant sufficiently. Mr. Steyn van Ronge has since picked up the reins of the day to day management of the AWB cause. After the recent walk-out by DA councillors and failure of ANC members to get out of bed in time to vote on bribing voters, I've decided PE needs some manners put on it. I couldn't find an email address for the Taliban so the AWB will have to … [Read more...] about Mr van Ronge We Need You
Dear, Sexy Pierre
Dearest Pierre, I've had it. I've really had it. Up to here (). And it's all your fault. Well, partially... It's my wife. Yes, Mr. Voges. My wife. Admittedly, things were never totally socially conventional between us, but at least in the past it was manageable. Now she's absolutely lost it. Batty. Cuckoo. Deranged. Bonkers. Coherent. No, wait...not that last one. She's been into fetishes for as long as I've known her. When we began dating 45 years ago, it took three evenings for … [Read more...] about Dear, Sexy Pierre
Motor Mouth Gets His Own Column
Fresh back from the Kindergarten meeting this morning I saw that my old friend Rick Dagless has been hard at work bringing mirth and merriment to suspecting citizens of Port Elizabeth. This is the latest missive received from Legless: Dearest Strapon, I sense a future for us. The sort of future that could rival the likes of Batman and Alfred, Simon and Garfunkel, maybe even Starsky and Hutch. It will the be the type of relationship that leave women guessing as to our sexual … [Read more...] about Motor Mouth Gets His Own Column
Hockey, Mr Pierce, tis a A Sport By Definition Alone
Dear Mr. Pierce, Thank you for your email of January 24 2011. I am afraid I must voice my displeasure at the obvious favouritism being displayed towards National Hockey by gym management authorities. Once I played hockey. I trained for the try-outs for months. Lunges, Mr. Pierce; I did a lot of them. Star jumps - onlookers swore they could make out Orion's Belt. Kangaroo jumps - unfortunately my skinny legs were not sufficiently endowed to propel me and I soon realised I was merely … [Read more...] about Hockey, Mr Pierce, tis a A Sport By Definition Alone
Dagless Speaks, and Speaks, and Speaks and Speaks
Dearest Alan, Your call to arms regarding the ore dump in our harbour inspired me. I attach my letter to Ms. Nel and Mr. Phihlela. I was disappointed with their lack of response. (Ed: See - A Manganese Ore Advert I would Have Carried for FREE and Time to Remove This Blight From Our Beachfront) Dear Mr. Khomotso Phihlela, I contact you in tremendous emotional distress with a dash and twist of hatred. It's my cat, Mr. Fluffles, you see. He's gone haywire. It's like I don't know him anymore. … [Read more...] about Dagless Speaks, and Speaks, and Speaks and Speaks
Dean Dean I Heard Them Scream
In case you missed it, this year of 2011 heralds one more local election and we have two major candidates elbowing for position at the feeding trough of ratepayer misery - the ANC (or, as many like to call them, The New NP) and the DA (or, as others like to call them, the Desperate Alternative). Going to the monthly kindergarten gathering of Councillors at the Wool Board has been a slight bit of a disappointment for me as the expected cut and thrust of politics - that of nimble word-smiths … [Read more...] about Dean Dean I Heard Them Scream
