Jozi Insider on Patron and ThePhlyOne
Hello you Curious ones, another weekend came and left leaving the city of Jozi with events few and far in between and celebs committing a few acts to gossip about.
Well, word has it that Metro FM station manager done got herself knocked up again, leaving everyone wondering if hubby is really baby-daddy to child number 2. The flies on Metro FM walls have been watching and listening and there seems to be a whole lot going on in there. As tweetsters would say: #justsaying.
Still on Metro FM, despite many tantrums and kicking off her girl-next-door shoes, the PhlyOne still lost her primetime slot and was reduced to a Saturday night show. We just don’t know what’s clouding that little brain of hers, but she just doesn’t seem to get it.
I’m gonna let you in on a little secret Ms. Penny: “Shhh, don’t let it slip but there’s just no property left for you at Metroville anymore. Catch a wake-up already! Oh and by the way Ms. Penny, speaking of your little brain, people on twitterville recommend that you get yourself some urgent English classes. It’s just too embarrassing to see you confuse SPAM for SPERM. I would suggest you stick to vernac, but after your Motswako mishaps we’re just unsure of your vernac either. You do understand this makes it hard for us to find a place for you in this industry, right? So, I hope you’ve plan B darling and that shouldn’t include our TV screens or radios.
I know you’re a woman of faith and I’m sure you’ll pray about this, as well as praying for my deliverance. But don’t worry dear, I’ll go for confession this week and then start the next week on a clean slate. See, we’ll be even all over again.”
What I won’t be forgiven for though is that poor excuse for a party I attended last Saturday night, alone. Not that I blame anyone for my friend-less life. The other kids just can’t seem to keep up with me. Oh yeah, this is not about me. It’s about the sad folks we call celebs. Eish, le lona le just too Curious mara.
The party was themed “Patronize Me” to bring awareness to the Patron tequila. It was held at Latinova in Rosebank.
Spotted: JI readers’ favourite gal, none other than Ur Gal B looking hot and almost straight legged in a half-plucked baby ostrich feather-like skirt. Encircling her were the squirt-inside-my-pants hot Kwela Tebza boys who looked like they were waiting for their mom to come pick them up after Sunday school. I quickly turned my attention away from them as the sight was just too numbing for me.
As I turned my other cheeks for them to notice how firm they are (just in case one or two of them shows interest, I mean people are talking afterall), I bumped into Mika Stefano looking like he was about to scream trick or treat..
With Mika, was a full on brigade of Jozi’s socio-sexuals (sorry, but social and homosexual would’ve been too long to type, I don’t have enough space). I didn’t know if it was Pride month or just a regular night in Jozi. Well, I guess it made sense given that the host was a bona fide card-carrying member of the Limp Wrist Society.
A few moments later I bumped into two members of another society or mafia, Anele Mdoda and Poppy Ntshongwana. Last time I wrote about them drama ensued. Not only did I get my little firm ass fired, but my blogpost was also removed and my boss lost “friends.” Should I risk it? I guess I’d rather write about the mating rituals of squirrels in the 1800s than these *coughs*…..uhm, people.
Anyway, the party was a total snooze, so I left in the shortage of the said Patron. I was really sad because I was looking forward to getting obliterated from it (as tequila tends to get me) and at least go to my lonesome home with that cute African brother in a tuxedo. Is he a “modeller?” I have a few things he could model in me, if you know what I mean.
Just as I thought the weekend will end on a dull note, a war erupted on twitter. And by war, I mean just a squabble between JI’s favourite journo Gabi from The Times and the heavyset, tampon-sized DJ Euphonik, whose figurative head is bigger than his actual one. He apparently insulted some known singer and Gabi jumped to her rescue.
This resulted in Euphonik calling Gabi a loser on air and she was just not about to let it simmer. She took him on, grabbed him by his hooves and swung him around in a tirade of insults, before getting hold of her senses again.
At that point Euphonik was just lying down taking it all in, so to speak. I, of course, was up on my couch with my phone in hand as these two went on. I couldn’t thank them enough for putting such a dramatic end to my otherwise dull weekend.
The score? Gabi 5, Euphonik 2.
Moral lesson: Don’t mess with TheGabi.
All right you curious ones, that’s all from the Insider this week.
Xoxo, Jozi Insider.
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