SARS makes my bum tight …

My friend Ronnie Earl just phoned me and acted like he was Peter Jackson from the South African Receiver of Revenue.

He then proceeded to tell me all about my tax problems and how I really needed to make an appointment and come in and see them.  All these issues dating back to 2007.

When I see the logo of the SARS on an envelop I break out into a cold sweat.  I deal with SARS by not opening the letters and putting them into the bottom right hand drawer of my desk and leaving them there.   I figure, ignore them and they will go away!!

So to have “Peter” on the phone from the SARS, and that was enough to actually make skid marks in my panties.  I was groveling and spluttering and basically promising him my first born, and I might have promised him your first born too.  It was sad, it was pathetic, it was me dealing with my worst fear without any warning.

At some point he gave the game away and said he will set up an appointment with his Cape Town Consultant Ronnie Earl, and then my already adrenaline-soaked brain went “hey”.

I then proceeded to tell him that I wished his scrotum sack burst and I really said some uncharitable things.

Cussing like a sailor in an open plan office does not increase my share price.  I work with people who apologise when they say “shucks” so my outburst will be addressed by HR soon.

So Ronnie, I wish you a narrow seat on an unstable Kulula flight – I hope you sit next to a large sweaty woman who has eaten garlic and has armpits that smell of onions …. you shmuck!!!

I will also be putting your email on a few porn sites so expect a bit of SPAM!!