The Pain of the UN Summit

by SYN 10 Replies latest social humour

  • SYN

    As a few of you may know, yours truly is "priviledged" (dagnabbit, I can never spell that word right!!!) to work at a company which happens to reside a couple of streets barely 200 meters away from my office building. Now, yours truly happens to enjoy living at work, purely because "work" at the moment happens to be in a posh suburb and the rooming provided by a gracious boss in what used to be an Embassy building, now transformed into a software company, is very comfy and rent-free indeed. This has the added benefit of yours truly being able to post on JWD late into the night from a very, very fat line.

    Plus, yours truly currently happens to be car-free, and thus only capable of travelling to the nearby shopping center (mall?), a big one, which is right next to the Convention Center, on foot!

    Normally, this would just be a dandy arrangement, shortening my morning commute to the length of a particularly long yawn and a flight of stairs between work and home, so to speak. However, the United Nations has other, dastardly plans to disrupt my peaceful, machine-code filled existence. Those ruddy twits have decided to stage the world's largest convention on Sustainable Development right in the previously mentioned Convention Center.

    Generally, this is good and all. Yours Truly is not one to turn up his twitchy, whiskered nose at the prospect of planefulls of gorgeous Foreign environmentalist chikkas who desperately need a tour guide to show them the darker side of South African wildlife, so to speak. (AMANDA, I AM JOKING!!!) In fact, during the last two weeks, all of the talk at my workplace has revolved around the other programmers learning enough French, Cambodian, Turkish, and Spanish to say "Do you have any South African in you? Want some?" well enough to get laid by chikkas from several different countries. You can't blame the poor sods, after all, they are adventurous mofos with a taste for the exotic, although I suspect in this instance the exotic is going to taste them, to use more of that delicate running-around-the-bush phraseology I'm so fond of. My Ghod, I think I just made six separate puns in one sentence. That has to be some sort of record

    Despite my continous mutterings of things like "They will all be 40 year old men with beards, paunches and unhealthy predilictions for Schneizer pr0n", my colleagues have ignored my advice and gone on epic condom-buying sprees, totally "draining" nearby gas stations of any form of contraceptive, including candles and lightbulbs. This has proved to be a record year for our beloved Ugandan condom-manufacturing companies, the ones that staple instruction leaflets through their condoms just to make 110% sure they are used properly, you know? Don't my colleagues understand the dangers of South American CRABS? Those things can jump right across the bed while you are tied down!

    Nonetheless, I've begun getting a bit uptight about all the goings on in this little corner of Johannesburg. From the news I've heard that there will apparently be in excess of 10,000 protestors at this Summit. For starters, it would probably be a bad idea to eat biltong (beef jerky for non-South Africans) in front of such a crowd, as a bunch of Moby-wannabes might see me and try to trample me. All my beef jerky would truly belong to them. That leather biker jacket I've been contemplating has also been removed from YDE - why, I wonder?

    Speaking of jerky, I've been trying to understand Vietnamese (apparently those Vietnamese delegates are hot), but I have a lot of trouble pronouncing the words. I'm really terrified that I'm going to run up to some Vietnamese chikka and say "Your anteater is swerving alarmingly far to the left" when I really meant to say "How about you come back to my place for some chicken soup?"

    Another thing I really hate about this whole shebang is the fact that my suburb will briefly become UN property, and as such be seen as a UN Embassy, for the period of the Summit. What exactly this means is rather foggy, I might add. In the pit of my stomach, I have a feeling it means that UN helicopters will be landing on my roof so that "important" tea-trolley pushers can disembark and jog off to the summit. It also means that the place will be crawling with coppers - you won't be able to sit down at a coffee shop without getting a traffic ticket from an over-enthusiastic trainee cop! This is also going to be a bad time for me to indulge in my near-daily habit of traipsing off to the shops in the shopping center nearby to buy some fresh buns from the bread shop there.

    Officer: "What's that in your bag?"

    Yours Truly: "Erm, it's a bun, your Majesty!" <insert sarcastic grin>

    Officer: "I don't like your attitude, young scallywagger! Now pull down your pants!"

    Yours Truly: "But that wasn't in the script???? CUT! CUT! Take two!"

    Officer: "All right, I will have to pull them down for you. Percival, help me subdue this frisky, powerfully muscled young man with such tight buttocks. Go on!"

    Other Officer: "OK, John!"

    This, truly is the stuff of nightmares. Will my bun be mistaken for a Weapon of Mass Destruction? Will my pastries cause large traffic jams? Will my croissants result in infamy?

    Find out in the next installment of SYN at the UN Summit. Urgh.

  • Valis

    ummm SYN...I told you to stop watching those Male Cop Porn Fetish Films...tsk tsk..*L*


    District Overbeer or the "I aint your bitch so hands off piggy!!!" class

  • SYN

    Valis, non-consensual is the word here!

  • sf

    Blow up ( yea, a girlcan dream, can't she?) the U.N./ WTBTS documents/letters to poster size and get your ass to the protest.

    Stay away from tall buildings that day too. And anyone with 'one eye'.


  • SYN

    sKally: I'll be WORKING Otherwise I'd be there, bouncing up and down with all the Greenpeace types, no problemo...

  • SYN

    UPDATE! Thursday 22 August 2002!

    Dontchajustlove those exclamation mark thingies? You know I do!

    Well, in the two days that have passed since the above posts, things have started reaching fever pitch here in Johannesburg. For starters, some numbskulls have decided to erect a giant, green and very pointy fence at the top of my street, which is the only way for me to reach the shops without walking 6 kilometers around the block, due to the ass-first-into-oblivion philosophy so obviously employed by the people who designed my suburb. Sure, it's next to a river, but that doesn't mean you have to make EVERY street a cul-de-sac!

    Apart from my imminent enfencement, half the people at my work today were a bit late as they got pulled over by cops in a "random" search which the cops used to search for, amongst other things, bombs, guns, traditional Zulu war spears (the pointy kind), rogue fresh buns from the bakers, Apostate Smurf Dolls, functional car radios, bank baggies full of dope, brightly coloured steering wheel covers (BIG fines for having one of those!), furry dice, mice, rats, hamsters (*sob*), hot Asian models, unused toilet paper (that was a particularly nasty search), BMWs, AK47s, pencil boxes, and many other terrorist items.

    To top it off, the police appear to have been having air raid drills in the street outside my office cum lodgings. Now, these are no ordinary air raid drills. First, one of the cops (usually the deafest one) sets up one of those whirly-gig things that you spin around vigorously with your arm during an air raid, producing the WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA sound. The rule for this is that it has to happen immediately opposite my bedroom, preferably right outside my window. Once the siren is going, a convoy of police cars travelling at just over Mach 3 are then to drive around the block several thousand times, doing handbrake turns as they go around the corners, and burning so much rubber that the street gets slippery and the cars are an inch lower from rubber loss than when they started. Once the cars have begun flying around the block a few times, they are to shatter my already feeble nerves by all simultaneously switching on their cop sirens on the tops of the cars and illuminating my wall in very artistic shades of red and blue. After this, a fleet of large military helicopters without silencers attached to their monstrous engines fly over my roof, making my bedside table shake so much the hamster nearly falls off it. Notice that these military helicopters must all hover over my roof for several minutes each, taking turns blowing leaves around and scaring our ducks and peacocks, which began to quack in sympathy.

    I'm having so much fun

  • Satanus

    I looked it up here Looks like you have another 4 days before the party even really begins. Too bad you couldn't take your vacation now. Have you got a gas mask yet? The area could become saturated.

    If we xdubs hadn't made a stink about the wt/un/ngo affair, you could have had some wt bigwigs there as well.


  • SYN





    My quiet, leafy, tree lined suburb is set to briefly become a virtual war zone! NOOOOOO!

  • Valis

    SYN...just go find yourself a mutually consenting policeman w/a big night stick...he'll soothe your ravaged soul..*L* BTW..I got your email and when I get home the map of SYNlandia will be on its way tot he Floridian.


    District Overbeer

  • SYN

    Thx Valis!

    Edited to add: South African policemen don't use nightsticks, they use bricks, we don't have money to buy nightsticks in this country!

    Edited by - SYN on 22 August 2002 16:39:20

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