.....if he thought a foreigner was reading it.
6:00 am : Awoken again by the sounds of gun shots and screams of rape. Take a quick walk around the house. Kids are still alive. Temporary.
6 30 am : Dig out some old cans of baked beans from the rations pantry. Hardly an appropriate meal for a man on death row. And as a white South African who plans to go out today to go to work , one might as well be walking the green mile.
7 : am : Begin the pointless task of taking a shower. I'll soon be covered in blood and bits of strangers brains anyway. As always when showering I chiefly think about Jacob Zuma. Did you know Africans think showering and beetroot can cure aids ?
I get out and and on my clothes , starting with my diapers. I'll doubtless sh!t myself sometime during the day on one of the many life threatening encounters I'll have. I put on my camouflaged pants and bullet proof vest and tuck in my pistol.
7 30am : Start the long arduous task of unlocking the steel door. Lift the beams , unpadlock the chains , pull out the bolts , punch in a code , turn the dials ....and take a deep breath. slowly push the door open with the rifle of the shot gun. Nobody in plain site. They must be preparing an ambush.
7 31 am : I give the orders to my neighbor and car pool friend on the walkie talkie. In unison with a "go ! go ! go !" we raid our lawns like a blitzkrieg diving first behind our strategically placed sandbags. We let out a few rounds at any bushes before getting into the car.
"Where's your wife ?" I ask him.
"She took a particular bad raping last night , she's calling in sick. I hope she doesn't have aids. Do you know Thabo Mbeki thinks aids can be cured with garlic ?" He tells me.
"I sure do , did she take a shower ?"
We laugh. Ah , the strange but rare and fleeting sensation of laughter. I'd almost forgotten I was capable of it.
"How're the kids ? " I ask him.
"Little Timmy took a bullet , but the few we have left are all still alive. Freakish luck. "
"Yes, I say , mine are alive too. It's been a good week. A few cousins hacked to death with machetes , but nothing that would make the papers."
Our chit chat is interrupted by the familiar whistle of mortars coming in. We speed off.
7 47 : Arrive at work attracting hardly any gun fire or driving over anyone whose fallen in the streets because of aids. Did you know , 2 out of every 1 South Africans has contracted aids at least 5 times ? We make it into the office.
8 am : Role call. The boss comes in checks to see who has made it to work alive. We've lost a secretary but not one with big tits , so there's all round relief.
8 30 : The electricity comes on for a brief few minutes. The boss runs out excitedly ringing his bell."Quickly he says !!! To the computers while we have the chance !!!" ...After a few moments we recover from the shock of having electricity we rush down to the fireman poles and slide down to the computer room. We quickly finish our work (there's not much to do since the South African economy has entirely collapsed ) so we use this precious time to go on youtube and spread the negative truth about South Africa on any videos we can find. I find one of a tourist who thinks they had a nice time in south Africa but quickly correct them and warn anyone from coming lest they want to commit suicide.
10 : 30 : Lose my job to a black person again. Shrug my shoulders. I'm to blame for complaining when my black boss tied me to the wagon wheel and whipped me. I also didn't fellate him nearly as enthusiastically as he demands. I should know better.
11 : 00 am : As I'm arming myself to go home my boss says he can't wait for Mandela to die so that he can kill white people legally. He promises to first kill my children and make me watch while he performs satanistuic rituals with their hearts and drinks their blood. I think him for his relatively kind words. He's not as bad as other black people.
11 30 am : I'm murdered and become a silent statistic.