So it turns out that “The Jasonator” from that SMS and that Facebook page is actually the lead character from a new book.

They tried to sneak that past us here at 2OV, but the readers were far too quick for it– they caught him out right away. He admitted this to me over twitter yesterday.

Sneakiness aside, I’ve been handed a copy of the book and done some research for you: this is the genuine truth: The book seems extremely funny and I feel I might need to forgive him. Just this once.

The guy you see on Facebook is EXACTLY like the character in the book –completely embarrassing and a chop. If you’ve ever lived in Cape Town this should be compulsory reading.

Anyway, what they’ve clearly done is taken an entire book and created the lead character as a ‘person’ on the web using actual events from the book. Devious. Extremely naughty. But quite clever as well.

To apologise for trying to bullshit us, “Jason” has sent me some books to give away as the apology olive branch as he called it (see what they’re doing here? Staying in character right to the end – good commitment).

We could be pissed off at “him” for trying to dupe us, but because it’s all a bit harmless, and because we genuinely think the book is funny, we’re going to forgive them. Just this once.

Below is a short extract from the book. Best 2 comments win copies of the book, it’s called “The Year of the Gherkin”. Well done to “him” for acting quickly I suppose.

MONDAY 28 DECEMBER

Probably my worst Christmas. I got this moleskin 2010 diary from my mate Dawesy. In it he has written: Jase, if you keep this diary I will run naked up Long Street in lunch hour. Happy Xmas. Dawesy.

Stuff him, I will.

Badger, my mate from school, is out from London for the normal 10 days of craziness. You know, when they say on Facebook how awesome it will be when they are out over Christmas and they tweet how they are looking forward to Christmas, endless braais, bottomless Windhoeks and Niknaks, boardshorts and chicks (whatever they are, whoever they are) and when everyone can hook up. The problem is that your fb friends don’t all know or like each other. You can have 229 friends, but that does not mean anyone wants to see you.

It ends up in a stressful orgy of balancing friends (the different cliques), family, Mr Price and malls, avoiding people: ’You’d better see your cousin, she’d be so disappointed,’ etc.

There is a braai at his folks’ place on Wynberg Hill. I spent a lot of time there when we were at school, but it seems like they have done eff-all to the place since my matric. There is still linoleum in the kitchen. And tiles. But they are downsizing – some prick is coming to knock down their house and build like eight Tuscan townhouses on it and call it Flamingo’s Brook. They are moving to a village for the maturer generation with a clubhouse, an electric fence and a frail care where supper is probably served at 3.30. My dad says once in one of those, you are as good as gone. Mom would move in tomorrow – probably for just that reason.

Anyway it’s nice to get pissed with Badger and good to hear he is probably going to get retrenched as he slurps on his Amstel and burps into his fist. I am not being nasty, but he went to Mud Island for the money and made a big thing about it, talking about ‘the City’, and it made me feel a bit embarrassed with my average basic and the commission that I always seem to be missing cos of stupid targets. All I can do is play my ‘sea, mountain’ lifestyle card.

‘You never go to either, Jase,’ sniggered Badger. ‘You buy a kayak, splatter it onto your car with Men’s Health stickers and drive it to La Med.’

‘La Med doesn’t happen anymore.’ Shows what he knows.
‘But you still never use it.’

Well, I thought, you went there for the money and now you’re going to be on the dole. Wela kapela.

“Wela kapela” – what a lag!