Life

Peter Oliver Eat Sweets

That`s what the kids in my neighbourhood use to say back in the day. Instead of actually saying p**s, they`d just say Peter Oliver Eats Sweets (work it out, will ya). I was never allowed to cuss like that I would have been hung, drawn and quartered by the FPU. Although… you must admit that there`s something deliciously tempting about saying bad words at that age. Especially words involving genitalia and sewing machines (no. really. work it out).

I just came from the 3rd floor of the building I work in. Having been in meetings all day, I was zonked. Gone. My brain was fried and I was only half noticing the world around me, until I heard something that almost made me plotz right there. I nearly dropped my laptop, coffee, files and bag as a result…

Jou MA se Mutton Salomy P**S

I stood there gaping like a damn fish. Shocked, but almost hysterically so. I couldn`t believe something SO vile had been uttered in our hallowed halls

*100 brownie points to self for displaying appropriate amount of company loyalty and prude*

OK. Enough sarcasm.

I did finding it incredibly vile though. As mentioned before that word wasn`t allowed in our house and the ultimate sin was to bring your tjommie`s mother into it. SO not cool.

In fact… Krisma-Boet (in a fit of rage and loyalty) got into a huge fistfight one day with someone twice his size… What??? What did you say about my mother?.

Now, there`s nothing worse than saying that word, involving someone`s mommy – and then having the audacity to desecrate the idea of your mommy`s mutton salomies…You know, those mutton salomies are made with love and masala from the motjie down the road and nobody has a right to go there.

A good girl saying that word is unthinkable and good boys say it only under lots of duress and blushing. Kids say it with relish on the playground (street cred, you know), but won`t even dream of taking it home for fear of the ‘magic slipper`.

Point is…the guy who committed the above-mentioned cussing crime is well spoken, smart, on a certain management level (I know this. I know everything) and is considered to be quite the eligible bachelor by the resident gaggle of women working with him.

And there he was…talking about the other guys` mom, her genitalia and her mutton salomies.

Nee sies, man!

No bachelor will ever be eligible after vloeking my mommy and her food. The Princess does have standards you know. And mama didn`t raise no fool.

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