Master of Ceremonies?
(begun Friday 25th July at 10.35am)
I'd finished raking the verge just after 10am. and I was packing up, when the scrap collectors rounded the top corner, hooting and shouting to set all the dogs off into a froth. I'd headed down the stairs, and one of them, perched on a mountain of junk (all the better to see into your yard) had called out a greeting to me and I'd waved and carried on down. Silence. No hooting and no shouting. WTF? I went back up to find the bakkie opposite my gates and one of the youngsters was on his cellphone saying thank you.
Next minute the truck had reversed back up to Frederick's at No. 12, and someone had passed them a couple of scrap items through the gates and they'd left.
Life is fascinating is it not? It certainly looks as if our CA and proxy MC shares the same useful little black book that my own Master inherited from Col Nayager. How often have local residents looked sideways at those chaps as they trundle by noisily, checking out each and every property, when there've been items missing from the yard sometime later? Why on earth would the Suit have that youngster's cellphone number? Do they attend the same church perhaps?
It's a given that by the time I put this update on my wall, Frederick will have a solid and plausible reason to hand, and good for him.
If however, you're silently inclined to believe there's merit to my story, and that once my own poor Controller had tarnished his image sufficiently to warrant redeployment (for appearance sake), his second-in-command had taken over the duties of organised mischief-making for this stretch, along with the contact numbers for almost every easily manipulated criminal within easy reach.
Another solid member of the Sydenham community who's owned body and soul by the quantum surveillance Project, and who has become seriously addicted to every facet of his work.
How many of you are guilty of referring collectively to the majority of our population as savages? I can't help but take offence for various reasons, the main being guilt.
Twenty years after our so-called democracy arrived, and still only a tiny percentage of the masses are fortunate enough to be given a halfway decent education. Has it occurred to you that basic literacy and the ability to use a cellphone is pretty much all the education our Government wishes for the people? That anything more than that could prove dangerous?
Saturday 26th July at 4.10am
Some over-enthusiastic plonker had woken me at 3.10am with a donkey-kick to the base of my skull, and though it probably took them longer than they'd have wished, puppet-like, I'm finally up.
Have you known more than a few of your nearby neighbours for yonks? Do you chat to them regularly? Maybe you should go on a fishing expedition and introduce your latest aches and pains to them, for you could just be surprised to learn that they're suffering the same wierd symptoms as yours, and it can't be brushed aside as coincidence. Any of you developed some sort of allergy lately? An inexplicable and irritating rash on your torso? You might want to have that checked out by your GP pronto, as left unattended, it could turn into full-blown chickenpox or shingles. Not something that as an adult you can afford to ignore.
She'd mentioned as an aside the other evening, that the Sherwood Hall Caretaker/Booking Agent has just such an affliction, and at his age it's no laughing matter.
Frankly, I'm surprised it's taken this long for the mischief-makers to get round to him, and his health has long been of interest to me, being as how the Cullingworth Road cellmast is within mere feet of his boundary wall. Jannie van Zyl (vodacom) would have you believe that there's some sort of safe dead zone up close to the base of a tower, and maybe there is, although Mr. K's ailment would've been introduced over his powerlines.
Are you impressed by the Accountant's apparent connections? Has he Inboxed you, or called you, and hinted in any way that he has contacts in high places, and has he gone on to subtlely suggest you take his advice on any particular matter?
Last time I looked our Fred didn't have a Facebook cover picture, but he does now, and I'm duly grateful for that. A proud family man with sporting connections? You think? Maybe once ja, but our Frederick has since been elevated to so much more than that, when it comes to the quantum Project's hierarchy, and you'd better believe it.
The full-on earache and discomfort to the base of my skull/neck that had me texting Spence yesterday evening, had disappeared shortly after I'd hit Send.
But like I said, Someone had come on in after 3.10am this morning to play catch-up with me, and no holds were barred. Charming.
There now, I'm done nice and early for the day, and you two fellows can head off to your golf or your church, depending on today's cover, without having to give me another thought.
Now 4.57am. As I'd hit the computer Start button, a toad had croaked just outside the lounge window on this really chilly morning. A Kyocera ring-tone special, along the same lines as the 'crickets' that chirrup at your gates, or the real deal, disturbed from it's huddled slumbers by a sudden massive change in the airwaves?
Saturday 26th July 2014 at 5.58am.