Summertime Bazala

It is the first of september, ke Summertime Bazala! For a day, forget about Malema and the political dilemma. Forget about the strikes, forget about Gaddafi, forget about Nationalisation and all that crap in the political arena! Forget about your neglected vagina and your quantum desires and wear that t-shirt that says "siyabangena!". It is summertime (spring if you are white, mzala)! It is time replace that heavy polyester trench coat from small street with a lighter polyester sequinned mini-dress from small street. It is time to trade in your 8 layer, 22 inch red weave for something a little shorter and cooler, a red razor-cut with blue highlights perhaps? Or maybe even a Khethiwe-esque afro or a Sharon style s-curl? Whatever fondles your groin, Blackgirl, the summertime is yours! Close that summer magazine with an article on "how to starve yourself for the perfect bikini body" and go out into the summertime madness! Wear your silver, cellulite exposing, bum shorts with your shiny gold bikini top and go to the carwash! Wash those quantums in all your half-naked glory! Let the African sun give your smooth cleavage a "lamza"! Let you testicles dance in the summer breeze, Blackman. Burn your worries and your blackgirl problems in the 'mbaula' that kept your toes warm in the winter. It is a new day, a new weave, today! The taxi rank is in disarray!
So Mzala forget about it all, just for today.