It is perhaps an exaggeration to say that we know now no more about tsetse-flies than we did when Bruce discovered that Gl. morsitans transmitted the trypanosome (T. brucei) of ngana[…]

[…] I [Satan] cannot ſtay / Flaring in ſun-ſhine all the day: / For, entre nous, we helliſh ſprites, / Love more the freſco of the nights; […]

Ma gives a long-suffering sigh. It's all my fault. You're paranoid, Stella. No—YOU'RE paranoid! Stop! Simon's cracking, broken voice rises up above the fray. Johannes is whispering into Marietjie's ear, My liefling.

I don't know why people bother to watch Babestation, because the babes are in really minute windows which are plagued with MPEG artefacts. I can only guess that their viewers use their imagination to the fullest as they're attempting to make the bald man cry.