The new public protector says she will leave the dispute over the state capture report prepared by h.
The members are giddy with relief and hope now that the Lotto is back.
We can now put our dreams to good use and perhaps win a few cents in the process.
Aunty Emma wanted to stop the taxi so that we could all do a little gidani step on the highway by way of thanks. Fortunately the taxi driver refused to stop.
Motorists would have been shocked to see a group of women and a lone man dancing in the middle of the road. I do not think that the Metro cops would have coped with the resultant roadkill.
Anyway, back to the Lotto. Aunty Emma, who knows these things, assures me that you do not have to rely on your dreams for the best numbers. Anything out of the ordinary can be converted into numbers.
I do not know the numbers for the odd situation that I found myself in last week. But I offer the story for those who know how to play the game.
On the last lap of my journey home last week, I squeezed my skinny bottom into a 14-seater taxi. I could not wait for another taxi because the heavens were threatening to let loose a mini-flood.
The other three passengers refused to "hug" each other so I could have some space.
About ten minutes later, a passenger on my seat let out a blood curdling scream. We were all frightened and looked out the windows to see if a bus or truck was bearing down on us.
The woman begged the taximan to stop the taxi. I got out first because I was nearest the door. The other passengers all tumbled out after me because no one knew what was going on.
The woman was screaming because she was being pecked on her leg by a white chicken which belonged to the woman next to her.
Apparently this woman had bought a live chicken to celebrate a lot of shrubs she had acquired in town. The hungry chicken shunned these shrubs in favour of a bunch of spinach bought by the screaming lady.
The trouble began when the screamer shifted her parcel to her lap. The annoyed chicken then pecked her on the leg as it wanted its snack back.
The screaming lady refused to sit next to the chicken owner. She said she was deathly afraid of chickens and would have nothing to do with them.
Everyone thought this was funny because most people have been brought up by grannies who kept chickens. I told them that I was born in town and had always bought my chickens bloodless and ready prepared from supermarkets.
The screamer asked me to sit next to the chicken but I refused. I am not scared of chickens, even aggressive ones. But it was sweet revenge for the lady had refused to "hug" so I could sit.
There. If you convert chicken, green for spinach, screaming lady, a crowd, shrubs and a taxi, you will have Saturday's winning numbers.