by Paige Nick
Like 43
Nicky Viljoen Hi Nicky, some women struggle with diary, you might want to consider cutting down on your diary intake and seeing if that makes any difference. Good luck on your journey.
Like 65
Jeremy Dickinson Nicky, you’ll kill yrself, please talk to yr doctor about this befor you carry on. I’ve seen peopole on this diet suffering from dangerously high cholesterol, kidney failure, weakening liver function. Don’t add more sicknesses to list.
Like 0
Gary Biederasted I lost 7 kilos in my first week and another five in my second week. Love this way of life!!
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THE CO-AUTHORS
Thursday 4:09pm
Cyril waited till Xolisa had left for the gym. Then he sat down at her laptop, used her password (‘hammercurls x72’) to gain access to her email account, and began scrolling.
In a folder marked ‘Authors’, he found what he was looking for. He clicked on an email from Shaun from a few weeks ago and scanned the thread of messages, his chest tightening as he read.
When he finally reached the bottom of the thread, he thought for a moment. Then he clicked on ‘Forward’, and selected Xolisa’s entire address book. He checked to ensure that addresses for Tim Noakes and every board member of the Noakes Foundation, all the other authors, their publisher, and everyone they knew in family, business, the media and leisure were included.
Then he fumbled on the desk for the newspaper, searched the front page, and added the email address of the lead detective on the Noakes case. He hovered his mouse over the send button, took a deep breath and went for it.
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: FWD: Your’e so sexy
DATE: Today at 4:21pm
Begin forwarded message:
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 11:36:18 AM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Your’e so sexy
Hi gorgeous, what you doing tomorrow night, do you want to come over?
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 11:54:37 AM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
I want to, but what will I tell Cyril?
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:03:45 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Tell him youv’e got something on, there must be some function that you can pretend your going to. What grand opening or debate is the prof headlining at tomorrow night? You could just say your going to that.
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:07:02 PM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
You’re not kidding, that guy would go to the opening of an envelope if it had his name on it.
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:13:04 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Your so cute when you get angry. Wait, I remember the profs going to the opening of the National Gallery art thing tomorrow night, hes’ the keynote speaker. Why do’nt you tell that wet blanket husband of yours thats where your going, and then come here and let a real man show you how its’ done?
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:21:34 PM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
What does the National Gallery and some art exhibition have to do with Banting anyway? Other than the fact that they’re all so bloated with their own self-importance. I swear the prof drives me insane. Sometimes I just want to wrap my fingers around that leathery neck of his and squeeze till he shuts the fuck up.
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:30:19 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Hey I know, you leave Cyril, and Ill kill the Prof, and then you and I can become the new face of Banting. Fame and fortune at last.
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:35:29 PM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Ha, but what about Marco and Shireen?
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:40:12 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Marco Shmarco. Have you seen how badly old fattys’ restaurant is doing? That write-up in the paper last week was a shocker. He could no sooner fly to the moon than front Banting for the public. He ate a flipping paste de nata when we were at Vida last week, he’s lucky there was’nt a journalist or camera in sight. And Shireen is a dingbat.
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:48:51 PM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Ha, I know. Do you think he even noticed that they photoshopped half of him out of those author photos? It’s hilarious. How to lose thirty kilos fast. As for Shireen, take away the nails and the hair, and she’d collapse. Seriously, is there anything else holding her together?
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 12:57:38 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
So what do you say about tomorrow night, is it a hot, dirty, sexy date? You know Id’ do anything for you and your hot abs’, baby...
From: “Xolisa Phillips”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 1:02:19 PM SAST
To: “Shaun Thomas”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
Awww, you’d kill Noakes for me? That’s what I love about you, you’re a man of action. That’s so sexy. I’ll meet you at your place so we can finesse our murder plans. I’ll tell Cyril I’m going to that function, and I’ll only be home really late.
From: “Shaun Thomas”
Date: 15 May 2015 at 1:07:59 PM SAST
To: “Xolisa Phillips”
Subject: Re: Your’e so sexy
When I said there were things’ I wanted to do for you, I kind of meant oral sex not murdering the prof, but we can talk about it.
Ill pick up a bottle of champain on my way home. Xxx can’t wait.
THE HIJACKERS
Thursday 5:11pm
Ring ring, ring ring.
Thabo started, and Papsak went from fast asleep, his head leaning against the window, to wide awake and sitting up straight in one-third of a second. They both lunged for the ringing phone at the same time. But Thabo got to it a split second before Papsak.
‘Hello,’ he said cautiously.
‘Hello?’ Trevor said. ‘’Ello,’ he tried again, remembering the cockney accent.
‘Who is this?’
‘Who is this?’
‘Why are you calling Umlungu so many times?’ Thabo shouted.
‘He’s dead, you can’t speak to him.’
‘Oh, it’s you, er, Mr Driver?’ Trevor’s voice trembled with hope.
If his second hitman was answering his first hitman’s phone it could only mean he must have done the job. Relief washed over him. If hit-
man number one was dead, Trevor was in the clear, good to go, free as a bird.
‘So he’s dead, then?’ Trevor asked. ‘Definitely dead? White guy,
tall, in his early sixties?’
‘Dead dead,’ Thabo said, wrinkling his nose and looking over his shoulder at Uncle Mlungu, who was in the process of decomposing in the back seat. ‘That’s why I’m using his phone. He has a lot of airtime left.’
‘Oh thank God,’ Trevor lapsed back into his real voice for a moment. ‘So you must want the money now?’
‘Yes please, I want the money. Fifteen thousand bucks.’
‘Fifteen thousand?’ Trevor asked.
‘Yes. Fifteen thousand for the dead mlungu. That’s my final offer.’
‘Tell him you want it in cash,’ Papsak whispered.
‘I want it in cash.’
‘In a bag,’ Papsak whispered.
‘In a bag.’
‘No police,’ Papsak whispered.
‘No police,’ Thabo said.
‘And bring us another cell phone too, for me,’ Papsak added. ‘An Apple iPhone.’
Thabo hit Papsak on the shoulder.
‘Meet me with the cash in the parking lot at the sand dunes there
by the public toilet at Strandfontein beach midnight tonight,’ said Thabo. ‘And no funny business, or I’ll shoot you.’
‘I’ll be there,’ Trevor said. ‘Will you be in a taxi?’
‘No,’ Thabo announced with pride, ‘I’ve got a car now. It’s a BMW.’
THE EX-CEO
Thursday 5:13pm
The phone went dead and Trevor stood for a moment staring at the handset in his shaking hand. His second hitman was clearly better at his job than the first one he’d hired. And as an added bonus, he was giving Trevor a discount. He wasn’t sure why he was getting five grand off their agreed price – he hadn’t realised it was negotiable, but he wasn’t about to point out an error in his favour.
Maybe the taxi-driver-cum-hitman was hoping for a referral, or repeat business? But that was never going to happen. He was done with this business. Never again, now that his tracks were covered. At last he could breathe, and try to get on with his life. Lydia was right; everybody did bad things at some point in their life, the trick was to learn from them and not repeat the mistakes. Or crimes, in his case. Now that he was free and clear of this whole mess, he could start looking for a new job and try to pick up the pieces of his life, all with fewer carbs. He would try to be a better person going forward, right his wrongs, do more charity work maybe.
All he had to do now was fetch the money from his safe at home to pay this guy, and then make his way out to Strandfontein in time for the drop-off later. Maybe he’d stop off for some slap chips and a piece of cake somewhere along the way. One last hurrah before he paid off the second hitman and got back on the carb-free, sugar-free, contraband-free and criminal conspiracy-free wagon.
THE WIDOW
Thursday 5:39pm
Maureen Ewehout Hello Benjamin, my name is Maureen, and I am in the same Banting Facebook Group as you, Banting for Life. My friend and client Lydia Steenberg suggested I write to you, as she thought you could use my help. You see I am the creator of the Tim Noakes ENDORSED Marvellous Meal Plans, which I sell to help people like yourselves better manage and maximise the remarkable Banting way of life. These plans come with full shopping lists, plus I’m always on hand twenty-four hours a day (just about) to help you with any problems or queries you may have.
With my ENDORSED meal plans, living well and being the person you strive to be has never been easier.
I hope you don’t mind me friending you on Facebook and messaging you directly like this, but I would really love to help you on your journey, it is what I do best.
If you are interested, perhaps you’d like to meet, say at the Mugg & Bean in Cavendish whenever it suits you and at your earliest convenience? Then I can assess your needs and come up with a brilliant ENDORSED plan that suits you perfectly!
I really hope to hear from you soon.
Maureen Ewehout
Creator of the official Tim Noakes ENDORSED Marvellous Meal Plans.
THE FANS
Thursday 6:42pm
THE BANTING FOR LIFE FACEBOOK PAGE
Nizreen Sooliman feeling sick
Hi my name is Nizreen, and I am a Banter. I just ate a Whopper with fries and a coke!!
Like 72
Cliffy Oosthuizen No, your not a banter, that is rubbish. You don’t deserve to say you’re a banter!!! Epic Fail Nizreen! Serves you wright that you feel sick now. Get off this page if your’ not taking it seriously. It’s called the Banting For Life page, not the Banting 4 Sometimes When You Feel Like It page!
Like 1
Rochelle Simmons Don’t be such a dipshit Cliffy. Everyone is human even alcoholics fall off the bandwagon every now and then. Nizreen, it’s okay, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again tomorrow.
Like 53
Maureen Ewehout Nizreen, I’m here to tell you that you can do this. We all stumble and make mistakes. Please DM me if you want to talk about it. Don’t let this wobble send you off track, okay?
Like 7
Cliffy Oosthuizen – no Rochelle Simmons – what do you want me to do, say that’s okay and you can eat it whenever you want. it’s not like that if she wants to poison herself that’s fine, but I won’t say it’s okay and blow smoke up her ass. That stuff is rotten and I don’t even want to see it on this page. What if someone sees what she posted, and just hearing about it makes them fall off the wagon too. It’s irresponsible! Nizreen, if you’re not in it to win it you shouldn’t be Banting. That’s all.
Like 12
Lisa Leib I had macaroni and cheese tonight, if that makes you feel any better, Nizreen. Misery loves company. We went to my outlaws for supper, and my cow of a monster-in-law made mac & cheese, even though she knows I’m on LCHF. I’m sure she does it on purpose, she’s such a cow, bet she’s laughing now. And my husband loved it, ate it all up – he always says how much he loves her cooking. There was a salad but it wasn’t enough and I was starving after a long day at work, so I had some. My tummy is paying for it now. She said she made it cos she knows how much the kids love it. Jaaa right! Also, Cliffy, you’re a tonsil. We’re all only human.
Like 39
Ashwin Naidoo I think Cliffy is right, she should be ashamed of herself, feel so bad that she doesn’t transgress again!
Like 1
Rochelle Simmons transgress? What are you, the banting police?????
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THE EX-CEO
Thursday 8:57pm
Trevor cruised into the designated drop-off point just before nine. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do. He was operating on pure adrenalin (also the sugar rush from the slap chips and cake). Thoughts whirled in his head. What if the cops were doing a sting operation, and as soon as he handed over the money, they burst out from behind a bush and arrested him?
He knew it was unlikely: why would the taxi driver double-cross him? It didn’t make business sense. Plus he’d answered the first hitman’s cell phone. He would only be able to do that if he’d managed to take out the first hitman. Unless, Trevor thought, they were all working together, but how? That didn’t seem possible. His brain felt addled, incapable of following a single thought through to its logical conclusion. He blamed it on the sugar.
Trevor parked
in the lee of the dunes; it was dark and there were no other cars, only the dunes rising up on either side of the road, and the hulking shape of the battered building housing the public toilets. He trekked up over the shifting sand to find the highest vantage point
and get the lay of the land. His still-pyjama’ed legs sunk in deep at
every step, exhaustion creeping further into his bones. As he reached the top of the dune, one leg sank into the sand past his knee and when he pulled it out again, he noticed he no longer had a shoe on the end of that foot.
Trevor slumped down at the top of the dune with the deep, dark, cold stretch of the ocean before him, and pulled his jacket closer around him as he scoped out his surroundings. He couldn’t see any large SWAT operations being set up: no lights, no cars and not a person in sight.
After what felt like ages shivering on the dune, the only moving thing Trevor had noticed was a very old maroon BMW, which had been circling the area. Was that his second hitman?
At eleven, Trevor began the trek back down the dunes to his car, then left the parking lot. He spent an hour driving around within a five-kilometer radius of the drop-off point, on high alert, his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.
