Another installment of the highly contagious Norfff chronicles! I’m so proud of the people reading this, as we have now come into a trilogy effect (Like Mad Max…only better). If you have no clue what I’m talking about, check the previous posts on this wildly popular subject. Part 1 and Part 2 Twice. Now, back to the whole shindig; this week we touch on two touchy subjects, and one clearly obvious one namely: Driving (in) capabilities, Children with children and Residential areas.

Residential areas:

For the people reading this from the Norfff, and thinking what the hell are we talking about, this basically means the place where you live, poop and sleep; no it’s not Blou Bul Ranch. I’m talking about your home. Home is where the heart is… yeah right. Home is where the Red Heart is! A typical Norfff house, has distinct trademarks that set it apart. Well, the lawn will mostly be full of weeds OR cut to the root; cut on Saturdays – with a ‘Piti Broekie’ and beer belly resting on the lawnmower while sweating compulsively while checking out every single vehicle revving past. The house will also have a rugby flag hanging somewhere in the area for people to notice it – most of the times it will be a Blue Bull flag dangling from the gate, lightning rod or the top of roof. The house will also have a lot of people staying there, grandpa, grandma, uncle, aunt, far related cousin, fourteen year old Marietjie’s boyfiend and his kid (Refer to children having children). A common occurrence that you’ll also find in a typical Norfff house has oil stains on the driveway. Some people think that it’s accidentally spilled but oh no my friends! Oil stains are the backyard mechanics way of marking their territory!

Norff lawnmower

Children having children:

This is a touchy subject, and will probably get me punched, but fuck it! Norfff-ers are so ‘vrugbaar’ that if there was an apocalypse, and the human race was close to extinction, the remaining people should just come to the Norfff. We’ll have this area filled up in two years. But seriously, every single person – bar the one or two ‘misfits’ – in the Norfff has to have kids the moment they set foot out of high school. We have seen so many teenagers that have a kid, with another one on the way, who shouldn’t even have the responsibility of looking after a hamster. It’s sad, but that’s how we are made; ‘punt in the wind’…We will have no money, no intent to go to university to ‘better’ ourselves but to create shrimps, yes we want a lot of them to carry forth the ‘Van Niekerk’ or ‘Botha’ legacy…as if there wasn’t enough?

Driving (in) capabilities:

We love cars in the Norfff. They make our world (and tyres) go round. But we in the Norfff have this weird fascination of racing anything that moves faster than ten kilometers an hour. If you move past ‘Die Poort’, then you know you’re in for some ‘Spoed Pappa’ – and Pink Slips; it doesn’t matter what car you drive. We don’t care what car we’re racing against. We may be rocking a Maroon Uno with lime green stripes and a brand new bumper kit against a Subaru – but we don’t give a flying fuck; we’ll spin the living daylights out of our poor car to keep up. One more thing that you’ll notice is our obsession of revving our engines and spinning at every stop sign or robot. If we are driving behind a funeral line, we will rev at any possible moment because “that’s what Fanie would have wanted”. And if you do enter the Norfff with your brand new Fiesta on Brits Road… then welcome to the ThunderDome bra!

This is what the Norfff is all about; it will either make you smile or you’ll crawl up in a corner rocking back and forth. Next week I’ll be doing another post and we will be discussing the Norfff yet again tonight on the Norfff-cast. I’m out.

Ed