Last night may truly have been the “The Night of Power”, for a pair of black pants that went deep underground about two months ago, suddenly resurfaced in the fresh laundry pile.
A miracle certainly, for repeated questioning of the house-mates drew blank stares reminiscent of Foetal Alcohol Syndrome.

Hence it was with great surprise that I pulled the pants in dubious question out of a pile of clothes that had been freshly washed. This implied to me, by no great leap of logical reason, that the pants must’ve been worn in order for them to have ended up there. Yes? It maketh sense no?

So who’s been wearing my pants? The stretchy one with a centre seam down each leg, in a size that accomodates my somewhat healthy and strapping form? When all of the housemates, myself excluded, seem to be blessed with skinny genes, zooped-up metabolism and limited appetites, which compos mentis would deliberately wear a pair of trousers that is clearly identifiable as someone else’s by the very virtue of its size?

I’m baffled.
It is by no means a spectacular pair of black pants. Versatile yes, unassuming and practical, but these are attributes that lend themselves to be definitives for any pair of black pants.

Again, why?
?
?

Why would you take someone else’s pants without their permission and wear them when they aren’t even in your fucking size?

What is it with fasting muslim people who get a kick out of forwarding emails with pictures of food as attachments under misleading subject headers, to other fasting muslim people?

… and I’ll direct you to the front pages of South Africa’s major national newspapers to disprove you.

- A warrant for arrest issued for our National Police Commissioner Jackie Selebi by National Director of the National Prosecuting Authority Adv Vusi Pikoli (who’s been suspended incidentally). Selebi is the Head of Interpol. Cue canned laughter.

- Our sick Health Minister Manto Tshabalala-Msimang is reported to have ‘seen the light’ in this morning’s edition of The Star. Hundreds of clueless homeless people were bussed off to Pretoria yesterday to participate in a mass prayer session for the newly-livered troubled soul. One of the indigent participants said he did not know who or what he was praying for, and only went because he was told he would get food there. I suppose the homeless are generally safe around kleptomaniacs. After Tshabalala-Msimang took communion, and imbibed the spirit (something which she is obviously not unaccustomed to) The Star reported her saying, “I am feeling completely revived and energised… I am not going to let up in continuing to discharge my duties to help improve the quality of life of all South Africans.”
God save us. It’s not funny anymore.