Gauteng Community Safety MEC Sizakele Nkosi-Malobane on Tuessday reassured the public that student l.
Money is often made to take the rap when kisses start to taste like paper and scars no longer look cute.
They say when you uncover the real reasons for people ending up giving each other the finger while gliding away like Michael Jackson's moon-walk, chances are high that money is at the centre of their woes.
I totally disagree. But then that's just me being difficult. I swear, I'm getting more and more like my boyfriend every day and I hate it. He always has a different opinion for the sake of having a different opinion. Yet, here I am disagreeing with the world.
I don't think money is the issue. The issue is jealousy. For me, that is. Perhaps I relate to the lyrics of one plastic-clad madman who combed the streets of Tembisa singing: "We were born naked, shall die naked", so money really has never been a bone of contention in my relationships.
It's always been the green-eyed monster that has sent me up the wall. I'm a possessive, overbearing control freak who thinks romance won't fade when I have his daily diary.
So when my brother-in-law received a call from a female friend I didn't ignore it. I freaked out on behalf of my sister. She wasn't there of course and as everyone knows, your woman's sister has exclusive rights to drive the wedge between you and your partner.
How could he have a female friend; what happened to male friends?
I hate that. And what exactly brought them to that in-between level?
Yes, being a female friend means you are halfway to being his lover because very few men forget that a girl has a vagina and he has a dick. She might think of him as her number one lapdog while he's thinking "blink once and I'll be done in five milliseconds". Men cannot be trusted in that regard, I'm sorry.
And what exactly do they discuss? Ovulation? Man United? Maybe politics ... Yes, but what about the rest of the time?
I don't get it because common interests are what bring people together, hence the saying about birds of a feather.
She doesn't have a beard and I'm sure she's no braai freak like most guys, yet she's a friend!
So the minute he hung up on his friend I asked him about the nature of this friendship. Where I come from you stay away from female friends, especially when you are married.
I'll tell you why.
There was once a ravishing young thing who stopped all guys in their tracks with one simple line: "I'm a lesbian."
Sometimes she wouldn't waste her breath and would just French kiss her girl, whom she always had in tow.
Men still thought she was bluffing. They would continue offering her all they could and I'm sure this is the part that kept her steadfast - the attention. Maybe I'm stupid, but see if you disagree by the time we get to end of the story.
She wore caps, sweaters and tattoos. Her drink of choice was beer and her favourite sport was making love to her girl. I was happy with her life and didn't care one second that she also asked for my man's help with every silly little thing. She is a woman, after all.
When we had problem I asked her for advice and funnily enough she suggested that I dump him.
Excuse me, but what team was she playing for? Why would she root for her friend's demise?
When I told her about what Oprah said about listing to all the things I loved and hated about him and basing my decision on the longest list, she was still adamant the best thing was to give him the boot.
Meanwhile, I wasn't saying bugger all about the freakiness of the fact that her girlfriend never spoke. I was to just accept that her non-verbal woman was what she was.
I was even considering her advice when out of the blue it happened.
I pounced on her and she confessed disgusting fantasies about him and asked to smell him.
My mind was refreshed.
Unless they are related, opposite sex friends are a big no-no, regardless of their sexual status. They are destructive and add fuel once they realise they are not wanted by their friend's other.
I have noticed that fighting this kind of friendship tends to unleash an otherwise docile chemistry. Once you kick up a fuss you can be sure your man is going to run to her and tell on you.
Once the disguised mistress realises you're on her tail, you might as well take out the rocks, the knives, hell, bring out the petrol bomb. They don't take kindly to that kind of realisation, making you sound and look nuts in the process.
So why not do as a friend did. He didn't make a fuss, though he confides to have lost plenty of sleep over the issue. He simply took out the calculator, got nicer to the guy who was "friends" with his wife and insisted on inviting him for soccer and braai afternoons.
And as is usually the case with smart asses, the male "friend" thought he'd hit two birds with one stone when the couple showered him with affection.
Unbeknown to the creep, my friend was slowly becoming friends with the creep's wife.
For someone who thought the world should have applauded him for befriending a sizzling married woman, it's rather funny that he cut ties the minute he discovered the friendship from the other side.
What happened to sauce for the goose?