Fidler in the Hood: Money, money, money in a rich man’s world
The Christmas party is over, but the good news is it's only 13 weeks to Easter.
Happy new year! It’s that period immediately after Christmas when those heavenly bills for all excesses have to be paid. Will people ever learn? But not us, friends! The CO and I have both had incredible good fortune – all our financial worries are over; it’s nothing but blue skies from now on.
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On New Year’s Day, your scribe decided to read emails and the very first message received was from the ‘Desk of the Director, an affiliate of the German State Lottery, Munchen, Germany’. We were informed that your scribe had won €20-million (R300 000 000!!)
In the money!
But that’s not all. The next day, the CO received a message on her phone! She too had won a fortune – this time a measly US$2 500 000. Our cup truly runneth over! All I had to do was contact the fiduciary claim agent in London, one David Smith and the CO had to contact one Traci Norlan, who politely requested updated details of her bank account – even though she has never had dealings with that particular bank! It was then that I smelled a rat. The CO was rattled. Yes, her winnings might be bogus; but my winnings were definitely the real deal. Of course, this windfall will not change us one bit. Your scribe will continue writing for the Herald Bonus – no kidding.
Old brooms sweep clean
Looking back, it was a jolly old Christmas. The Hibiscus Coast was packed with visitors, the atmosphere was good.
The only eye-sore was the mountains of rubbish on our highways and by-ways. Not a pretty sight, but let’s give kudos where they’re due.
The municipality street cleaners did a sterling job, the roads were cleaned up in next to no time, and all is well in the Garden of Eden.
The 12 gifts of Christmas
Christmas: that time of year when it is the season of goodwill and for giving. The CO pulled out all the stops (even before winning the lottery) no expense was spared. Your scribe was lucky. Here’s what he got (with thanks to my buddy Allan Sherman) – eat your hearts out:
On the first day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A Nakashuma Japanese transistor radio, Mk IV (now discontinued);
On the second day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A pair of green polka dot pyjamas;
On the third day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A calendar from my insurance man;
On the fourth day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A simulated alligator wallet;
On the fifth day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A statue of a naked woman with a clock where her stomach ought to be;
On the sixth day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A micro-hammer to smash the hand-held walnut-cracker;
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On the seventh day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A pink satin pillow which says ‘St Mikes’ on it, with fringes all around;
On the eighth day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – An indoor plastic birdbath;
On the ninth day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A pair of teakwood shower cloths;
On the 10th day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – A combination manicure scissors and cigarette lighter set;
On the 11th day of Christmas, my CO gave to me – An automatic vegetable slicer, which only works on television, but not when you get it home;
On the 12th day of Christmas, although it may seem strange – your scribe exchanged all of the above.
Next year will be better, I’m sure. Who could ask for anything more?
Raring to go
The new year got off to a fine start. The CO’s lovely granddaughter, Jemma Mitchell passed her matric with flying colours, including five distinctions. Manchester City beat their dreaded arch rivals Liverpool. (There, there, David Rush, don’t cry!) So, winning the lottery; a university star on the rise; my beloved Blues winning, too. Who could ask for anything more? Life gets tedious, don’t it? See you around, Rob.
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