Driving along one of Cape Town’s life threateningly clogged arteries last week I noticed a factory or warehouse for a local company called “Pozzi.” Now while I have no idea what it is that “Pozzi” are responsible for, the name reminded me of some of the horrendous, yet warmly accepted and veraciously used slang that was rampant during my high school years. Here follows a conversation that would typically have taken place during register period every morning. Obviously a fair amount of expletives have been removed, not that it helps in the understanding of what was said!
Scott: Howzit bru!
Greg: Howzit! I’m hungry. Whats on today?
Scott: Naught bru, leave my samies alone!
Greg: Aag come on man! Ops us one!
Scott: Naught bru! I’ve got a long trap home today.
Greg: Chill bru, just asking. Score us a section of your naartjie then!
Scott: Aah shot hey, now you wanna score my fruit too?
Greg: Naught! Score me a samie and I’ll score you a durry at break!
Scott: Kif, check you then!
Joey: Hey Shel, you’re in my posi!
Sheldon: Don’t be a chop! This is my posi I got here first!
Joey: You think you lank cool parking in posi hey?
Sheldon: So what you gonna do about it? You wanna wrought?
Joey: I’ll rumble anytime.
Greg: Chill okes!
I don't know if the quality of high school conversations have improved with time, but my guess is that while the choice of colloquialisms have changed, the absurdity of it all hasn't.
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