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Sunday, January 3, 2010

Christmas Carnage

I worked every single day of the Christmas weekend.

It was tough. Doctors, paramedics, police throughout the country celebrated Christmas by working themselves to the bone.

Oh but there's one dude responsible for this:

I blame Santa Claus...you drunken red-suited buffoon!






Well done buddy.

Good Job.
Good Job.


Maybe you did you not read the freaking tourist manual to the Cape Flats that I sent you?!! Huh??!



Rule ONE: Do not drink the tik-laced milk and dagga cookies left out for you. IT’S A TRAP!

Oh it seemed tasty did it?
Oh you just couldn't help yourself, right?
What's that? It would have been rude not to partake of what was offered to you then hey?

Is that why you screwed up and rewarded the good little gangsters, and drug-induced psychotics, and alcohol sodden short-tempered aggressive folk with knives, and guns, and bullets, and other such cheerful weaponry? Huh? Because you were HIGH?

Panga's: The gift that keeps on killing.

Tra la laaaa! ( That's me warming up my voice for the Cape Flats Casualty Christmas Carol)

Ready? Here we go:

On the weekend of Christmas, those shifts they offered me:

One dead child
Two thoracotomies
Three gunshot abdomens
Four beaten wives
Five drunk drivers
Six stabbed chests
Seven drug-induced psychotics...


Can you tell that I was not impressed by the Christmas weekend's holy shitstorm and emphatically not overcome with the spirit of Christmas joy and love?


So here's a tip for next year, Santa Claus: Rudolph and that gang, me thinks it best to leave them at home. That red nose of his is like a shiny conspicuous beacon, and that jolly red suit of yours - BURN IT!

To achieve successful delivery of the goods, without getting stabbed or forced to feed on narcotics, you need to blend in man!

First, remove your two front teeth. ( This will have the added benefit of making you sympathetic to the plight of those cute freckle-faced munchkins who desire just that waiting for them under the christmas tree.)

Next, get a tattoo of something obscene on your forehead. Something like, "I kill for fun and rape for joy". That's just a little something I read on the face of one of my patients a while ago - maybe you could use that one.

Learn some choice phrases in Afrikaans to throw them off the scent that you're actually a do-gooder come to bring light and joy to the dark corners of the Cape Flats.......you know the filthy vulgar ones I'm talking about.
No?
Go back a few posts and have a little read - you'll be sure pick some up from those.


This way - you can wander around the freaky scary place our patients call home and offer those in need some assistance. Your goodie bag may need to be slightly different from the one you're traditionally used to. If you can fit in one first-class education system, a health system run by competent people and some regular nutritious FOOD for the poor...perhaps I'll reconsider your current low-ranking on my list of favourite people of all time...

At the moment you are down there with the Easter Bunny ( who dropped mandrax laced eggs over the Easter Weekend) and the Tooth Fairy - who went rogue and is making a killing off the lessor-incisored natives of this crazy town, used her takings to start smuggling drugs and is now known on the Flats as...the Tik Fairy...*drum roll *

5 comments:

Unknown said...

Hmmm, an angry yet collected portrayal of the protagonist in question: 1 x Santa Claus...or is it?

It is a common notion that the modern "Santa Claus" was conceived by the commercial sector of the Western boom in the early 20th Century, of note, the Coca-Cola Company being responsible for his current guise as a ubiquitous rotund bearded chap in a red boiler suit. It is therefore possible that this new Capetonian counterpart you describe so vividly could be a front for the various gangs of the Cape Flats, no? Delivering “disharmony on earth and hostility to all men”.

Better to be rid of them both I say. After all Christmas is meant to be about a time loving and commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ…better not get me started on what HE is a front for!!?

Ketan said...

Dr. S,

Another of those posts where you've used humor as a defence mechanism so effectively. I felt guilty to be enjoying how you wrote what you wrote. :(

I really wonder so many times how much you must be loving the people around you in general, to be still trying to heal them with all sincerity despite what all you're subjected to.

I'd emailed you, not sure if you read the mail. I'd wanted you to read this story - Vacillation. Thought you might like it. :)

MattB, in your comment on the previous post, you'd sought encouragement to blog? You have my full encouragement, and assured readership. :) Your last sentence in your above comment makes me further curious to know your thoughts through your blog (whenever you decide to have one for yourself). :)

Happy new year to both of you!

Dr S. said...

MattB: How shall we destroy them - what's your preferred method of annihilation? I'm thinking old school style tar and feathering and then nailing them to a plank, torching the thing and then throwing that in front of a moving train.

You might like something a little bit less conservative than that!

:)

Ketan: Yes - humour is my weapon of choice... more enjoyeable than crying, and less likely to land me in jail than a panga.( Although, my sharp tongue has been known to cut a man at ten paces.)

I was pleasantly suprised by your post, for many reasons, but mostly because it's nice to know that you can write romantically as well! HA HA! Not just a serious pondering philosopher.

p.s. DO NOT encourage old Matt B any further...you don't know what you're getting yourself into. Seriously. Yes, he owns the talent of rather grand literary skills, andis generally a pretty likeable fellow, but the content of his blog will vary between self-praise and self-adulation only.

Don't say I didn't warn you...

Unknown said...

I LOVED this one.

Dr S said...

ALIA!!!! YOU ARE THE BEST! CURLY GIRLIES TILL WE DIE! (I wonder if that guestbook is still at the top of table mountain?)

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