The Real Animal Farm...

My descriptive imagination doesn't contend with the likes of George Orwell before me but my ability to pass off work hinged on the ideas of others is unrivalled. Hence my reverse elbow inside ball on the sweeping slopes of the sandy C4 touch field looks fantastic and has epic results but truth be told I stole it from King Carlos like the bartender at Caprice's main bar stole the vibe of the other one at the groove bar...blonde wake up hair, finger trucker and retard speech, you know the one...


I pilfered Orwell's satirical allegory to bring before your eyes the reason I have been unable to tend to our loyal flock of sheep that is the RSJ readership. As you will know I spent the summer pursuing the glamorous lifestyle of a camps bay bartender. As you will know after reading this, that the Club Group that enjoyed the service of my employment is run worse than Orwell's windmill and by a dictator that leaves Napoleon the big up for the 'boss of the year' award...


As with every farm, it is built on a complex system with multiply facets. This one is no different. It started out with a company that specialised in the recruit of low wage low skilled farm labourers, that it could easily exploit for many hours labour and a next to nothing wage. This company won the tender for a government contract to the tune of R800 million and so it began.

The senior partner of this company, Napoleon, took his massive profit and started a massive commune. The commune consists of 8 different venues and the one I laboured on, Beach Farm, was the latest addition to his empire of pigshit.


Despite Napoleon being gay-er than the new Millers rollerskate advert he was surprisingly devious in his money tactics. He opened a subsidiary company to his first company that would also specialize in labour recruitment but exclusively to stock his 8 farm venues with plentiful labour that he could manipulate rip-off and control with his vicious team-ster of dogs dressed in black power suits, black power ties, and drive black power cars.

Now the pig Napoleon is really rolling in it. In fact he rented the farm at 250000 haybales a month for only a 5 month period. Yes that is 1,25million haybales, and he threw in renovations to boot. Bearing in mind the very successful farm next door only rents for 35000 haybales a month.

So why then does a farm leader so dripping in cash choose to screw every single person who works for him out of any piece of straw possible. After relieving his first appointed manager of his duties for doing horse steroids in the barn at the back the farm was left unmanaged so a good management team was put in place. After a month the one new manager was refused pay and the other only paid half. The 3rd manager was then assualted and Napoleon just apologised saying that would suffice in dealing with the matter.

One night a party was held on the farm to celebrate the birthday of a famous french farmer. The generous frenchman left 26ooo haybales for the farm labourers on his black AmEx. Napolean deducted 10% service charge for running the card, 14% VAT on the gratuity and 30% PAYE, leaving the servants with half. You lying prick! How on earth can you justify that...

Of course the little servants could do nought and were left toiling with beuacracy, double shifts, no communication and scant pay. One great example among many would be the homeless famrworker Mike that received only 25% of his monthly salary from the company because they had the policy that unless you had a bank account you would only receive that portion of your hard earned hay! Despite this policy, other works did receive cheques as payment. Stealing from a homeless guy...nice!

The lengths of which these pricks went to screw the only people that worked for them was unbelievable. Hence in one day they lost 1 out of 2 managers and 6 out of 7 bartenders (the stayers being related to a member of the dog pack) and countless other things they'll never even know they lost...

Fuck you, you pricks...but we're having the last laugh.