Jacob Zuma’s birthday diary

It's Jacob Zuma's birthday. This is the cake Fikile and Julius gave him.

South African President Jacob Zuma celebrates his birthday today, April 12. This is how I think his day would have gone down and the thoughts running through his head.

5.45am: *Alarm clock blares* Saw’bona Tuesday. Hoezit? Heh heh heh. It’s my birthday. Why I am awake? Where’s the snooze button?

6.30am: Sho. Now I’m awake. Mmmmm. Yummy. My wife is next to me. She’s about to use my automatic weapon. Yoh! But which one is she? Last time I got her name wrong I was in biiiiig trouble. Ag, forget it. Awulethu ibreakfast wam’.

6.32am: Got her name right. And then got her. Best birthday ever.

7am: This revolutionary French toast was delicious. Now I know why the cheese-eating French had a war. This breakfast is soooooo worth it.

7.02am: I had a shower. The media will probably write about this. Agents.

7.08am: I should have made this a public holiday. Not even I feel like going to work. Birthday is the new Monday.

Yeeeeees! It's my birthday. Feck yeah!

7.30am: Said good morning to my bodyguard, Brutus. He always carries a knife and likes standing behind me and touching me between my shoulder blades. He makes me nervous. I think I might just re-assign him to look after Julius.

7.42am: At the office. Must put my diary down. Got another despot to have tea with. JZ 3, Tyranical Dictators 0.

1pm: Awulethu ilunch wam’. Phutu, beef curry, quarter loaf. My birthday lunch is untouchable. I love all of my wives for preparing this for me.

1.24pm: I savoured that meal. Was delicious. I shall thank all the chefs later, in my own special way. If you know what I mean…

3.12pm: Hawu! Fikile and Julius just called. I’m soooooo happy. They’re taking my to The Grand for my birthday. Strippers FOR THE WIN! Charlie Sheen will WISH he was me tonight.

3.14pm: Wives not happy that I’m going to The Grand. They think I’m picking out another wife. They’re wrong. She won’t be my wife, just my stukkie.

3.15pm: Okay, she won’t be my stukkie either. I’ll just stand there and watch her dance. *sings Eminem and Rihanna song*

3.59pm: Come on, clock! Move…faster…please… Yes, even the President is a clock-watcher.

Birthday strippers. Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Almost as excited as Rebecca Black on a Friday.

4pm: Yeeeeeeees! Home time. Bring on the strippers.

4.02pm: Ah for crying out loud. Ghadaffi bombing again. Guess who’s stay late at the office tonight? Me, that’s who.

4.03pm: Today, a despot killed his own people. I had to phone him and tell him to calm down. He then bombed Bloemfontein in response. FML.

4.06pm: Thanks to Ghadaffi bombing Bloem, the FF+ will lost about…um…roughly 100% of their voters. Must send him a text later saying thanks.

4.32pm: Yes, finally got to go home. Ghadaffi said he was tired and needed to sleep. Sucks being old.

5.12pm: Drinks at Fikile’s house. His place is swagg! If only I didn’t have so many wifes and child support payments, I could so live like this. Chivas everywhere. Johnny Blue all over the place. Julius mixing it with coke. Retard.

6pm: VIP blue light cavalcade to The Grand. We be pimping, homies.

6.21pm: Grand is closed? Raided by police? Dammit, General Bheki. You’ll suffer for this.

6.23pm: Going home! Just realised that I’m 69 today. I shall make use of this healthy position I find myself in.

7pm: Home time. Wives not impressed. Guess my 69th won’t be my 69th. *sad face*

7.33pm: They’ve forgiven me. People just cant resist my smile. That’s how I got voted into power, remember?

Hi, my name is Jacob. I'm pimping.

7.36pm: Text for Hellen Zille: “Hpy bday Cde Prsdent. Lng Lve. C u on may 18. Lv u lng tme.” No idea what the eff she meant. Damn white people and their abbreviated SMSes… And they laugh at the way I speak. Douches.

7.38pm: Repled to GodZille: “Thank you, dear leader of the opposition, for your wonderful birthday message. I appreciated every word – well, those ones I could understand, anyway. Lots of love, Jacob.” English is my bitch.

8pm: Time for gifts! Whoo hoo!

8.13pm: What am I mean to do with a toaster? And whose sick idea was it to give me a comb. Worst birthday ever.

8.17pm: Grumpy. Booze finished. Going to bed. Night.

11.57pm: I love my wives. They made me happy – again, and again, and again. Polygamy is baws!


One thought on “Jacob Zuma’s birthday diary

  1. I like to wish our South African president Jacob Zuma happy birthday, may you see many more years to come and stay humble at all times

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