how many of these names do you remember? The South African TV personality is a strange phenomenon. Not only are they a contradiction in terms, but a social wart on the face of this great nation. The problems started way back when Martin Bailey did his thing with Eddie Ekstein on Telly Fun Quiz. With the exception of the telly-ducks and the blonde ‘walking chick’, there really wasn’t a reason to stay up late on a Monday. Enter M-NET giving us open time, 2-18 movies and Ashley Hayden. Ashley’s gap will forever be etched into the minds of pubescent sheet-creamers across the land. Her girl-next-door looks boosted ratings, among other things, but the editors would like to point out that she is the exception that proves the rule. Scot Scott made having a porn-star’s name cool, Peter Ndoro has a bigger smile than your average paedophile/pastor and Marius Roberts has got about as much appeal as a 2nd hand Tamagotchi. Carte Blanche wouldn’t be the same without Derek and Ruda and I don’t care if they are both married, there was (and still is) some weird chemistry going on between those two. If Ruda Landman is Luke Skywalker, then Yoda is Isabelle Jones. Old Izzy had the biggest mouth with even bigger words thundering out of it. The infomercials were soon to know the wrath of the 4ft uber-bitch. You had to dial that number, not because you wanted to, but because of a resurgence of ‘angry-granny’ and ‘pissed off grade 1 teacher’ memoirs hitting you harder than a ‘triple thick base’ Bauer Pan. Where are those freakin’ X-Attitude kids? Most probably in rehab with coke-boy Mathew (shady K-TV kid no. 4), because those little ******* were on speed. It’s no secret they sold it to the Yo-TV street-kids. One word, RITALIN. No one gets that excited over Disney other than Ray McCauly, and by God (its intended), does he have issues (that he would love the rest of the world to buy, I mean ‘understand’). ‘See the light’, *standard rates apply. For every good, there is a bad. For every All-Gold Tomato Sauce, a Coleman’s, so where are the unsung heroes? That dude who presented Agriforum in the mornings. You couldn’t help but watch that moustache twitch with glee as he gently fondled the potatoes. The newsreader, Graham, whose glasses served as prototypes to the Hubble. ‘Shiny, stressed bald-guy’ let us know that its hot-in-herre and rainy somewhere else in the ghetto, in between hits of Charl Pau flirting with black and white sea monkeys. Speaking of black, Manu Padiyachee was the most Indian looking black guy ever, just eyes and teeth. Nigerian to the max and probably the X-Attituder’s tambourine man. Lez Aupais has the whole ‘hot-mom’ thing dialled, which she owes partly to Doreen Morris, but ultimately to Irene Bester. Irene made Australia seem like a global super-power fuelled by toothpaste and make-up ladies. Barry Ronge gave rise to Nataniel (figuratively), who in turn spawned the likes of the Baroness. All these women are fine and dandy, but one woman redefined the terms ‘dairy’ and ‘feminism’ every morning, sometimes in Zulu, but always to the dismay of weird-background-floating extra terrestrials everywhere. Mina Moo. The only female to kick-ass and sell Clover, was not afraid to get jiggy with that strong, Cape Coloured cat, on camera. Mina was to milk what Popeye was to weed. She sure could have taught Tracy Going a thing or two about fighting angry lovers. Mina’s ability to get bilingual was quickly copied by a blonde on SABC 1. How to confuse the nation into not paying their TV licenses, way to go guys. Zet was a pussy. He never stood up to that Hettie blonde freak and never got any action from the girl-Zet. He sucked ass almost as much as the Mayor from Pumpkin Patch. Mr. Chinwag liked to dip his carrot in Natasha sauce from time to time, but who could blame him; they had the same dental problems. The sexual energy between those two got the attention of S.A’s youth faster than a jack ever could. Nowadays we have to dodge Deborah Patta’s frowns and manila business-dresses, as if it were a game on Selimathunzi. Brown put that voice on, or else he took vocal lessons from the man himself, PJ Powers. ‘Jam Alley EEYO!!’ aaaahh, the good times roll, and if anyone rolled (joints that is), it was the stoner-biatch from Morkels, “Your 2 year guarantee store”. Kill me now. http://theillagevidiot.blogspot.de/2012/01/from-archives-televolution.html
