Thank you pathetic waitress. For the laugh you gave me.
And ofcourse the ice cold "coke".
*repeated in near verbatim*
Denzel: Hi, what have you got on the menu today?
Pathetic waitress: sir, you tell me what you want and I tell you what we have.
Denzel: *slightly agitated* Excuse me? You should tell me what you have then I tell you what I want.
Pathetic waitress: No sir, you tell me what you want and I tell you if we have it.
Denzel: *visibly agitated* I want you to suck my cock.
Pathetic waitress: one cock?
Denzel: *suddenly taken aback and loving the conversation* Errm ... yes I ....ummm...I have one cock.
Pathetic waitress: No sir. I can see you have no cock. Let me bring one for you.
:))))
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Pheew! The baby aint mine! :)
Just came back from seeing my ex-girlfriends new born baby.
Eyes - No.
Nose - No.
Ears - No.
Private parts - No.
Happy to say the ugly little thing doesn't look like me!
Eyes - No.
Nose - No.
Ears - No.
Private parts - No.
Happy to say the ugly little thing doesn't look like me!
Pheew! The baby aint mine! :)
Just came back from seeing my ex-girlfriends new born baby.
Eyes - No.
Nose - No.
Ears - No.
Private parts - No.
Happy to say the ugly little thing doesn't look like me!
Eyes - No.
Nose - No.
Ears - No.
Private parts - No.
Happy to say the ugly little thing doesn't look like me!
I will warn my future sons about today
*I wont forget today.
I will warn my sons about today ....*
*Denzel in the future*
Son, back in 2012, on grandmas birthday, we decided to go for an Indian meal. In a bid to impress the hot Indian girl on the next table (even though daddy knew there was no chance; Indian girls never married African boys in 2012) he proceeded to use his hands and look like he eats Indian every day...tearing his Nan like a true connoisseur and cleaning the plate of any curry...in the process getting the hot curry...
SON, put down your iphone 20 and listen to me...
Like I was saying, I got that spicy hot curry all over my hands and proceeded to wash my hands in the bathroom.
On reaching the bathroom, daddy thought it smart to pee first and then wash his hands once and for all.
daddy unzipped his pants, pulled out **** and proceeded to pee.
It was a hot day, and for a moment daddy thought the heat was the reason his ***** was suddenly heating up.
Hmmm... not thinking much of it he continued pee'ing.
Hmmm...suddenly thinking much of it he paused pee'ing.
HOLY SHIT.
Daddy's ***** was on fire!!!!!!!
Daddy should have known that he should never have touched his ****** with curry hot curry sauce still on his fingers.
And no. Don't ask daddy how much it hurt.
And no. Don't ask daddy how I ended up cooling ***** down.
And no. Dot ask daddy how stupid he felt walking back to the table after nearly 30mins with a wet patch on his pants.
*I wont forget today.
I will warn my sons about today ....*
I will warn my sons about today ....*
*Denzel in the future*
Son, back in 2012, on grandmas birthday, we decided to go for an Indian meal. In a bid to impress the hot Indian girl on the next table (even though daddy knew there was no chance; Indian girls never married African boys in 2012) he proceeded to use his hands and look like he eats Indian every day...tearing his Nan like a true connoisseur and cleaning the plate of any curry...in the process getting the hot curry...
SON, put down your iphone 20 and listen to me...
Like I was saying, I got that spicy hot curry all over my hands and proceeded to wash my hands in the bathroom.
On reaching the bathroom, daddy thought it smart to pee first and then wash his hands once and for all.
daddy unzipped his pants, pulled out **** and proceeded to pee.
It was a hot day, and for a moment daddy thought the heat was the reason his ***** was suddenly heating up.
Hmmm... not thinking much of it he continued pee'ing.
Hmmm...suddenly thinking much of it he paused pee'ing.
HOLY SHIT.
Daddy's ***** was on fire!!!!!!!
Daddy should have known that he should never have touched his ****** with curry hot curry sauce still on his fingers.
And no. Don't ask daddy how much it hurt.
And no. Don't ask daddy how I ended up cooling ***** down.
And no. Dot ask daddy how stupid he felt walking back to the table after nearly 30mins with a wet patch on his pants.
*I wont forget today.
I will warn my sons about today ....*
God and his iPad
Dear God,
Are you seating up there in some clouds thinking..."ah, I'm bored. Let me check my iPad app for -Those who didnt go to church today-...Hmm...Denzel again? Let me fuck with him for a minute! hey, angel Gabriel...come and watch this..."
*back on planet earth Denzel is in queue at cash machine*
Here I am stuck in the queue. I strike up a conversation with the pretty someone in-front of me who happens to be "carrying" a fine set of buttocks that only African women are allowed to "carry" around.
What an easy way to garner every iota of my perverted attention.
She (also) looks good.
She (also) talks good.
She (even) smells good.
We swap numbers and just as am thinking why the man above has been good to me considering I haven't been in a place of worship in ages, she yawns and stretches her hands to reveal...lo and behold...her under arm had more hair than Micheal Jackson when he was black.
Promptly deleted that phone number. If she she has an afro under her arms she probably has dreadlocks between her legs.
Unequivocally NOT my type. Deuces!
*Back in Heaven*
God and Angel Gabriel are cracking up ..."Hahaha, now that was funny. Being God is fun. Back to business. What has the pope tweeted of late ...hmmmm..."
Are you seating up there in some clouds thinking..."ah, I'm bored. Let me check my iPad app for -Those who didnt go to church today-...Hmm...Denzel again? Let me fuck with him for a minute! hey, angel Gabriel...come and watch this..."
*back on planet earth Denzel is in queue at cash machine*
Here I am stuck in the queue. I strike up a conversation with the pretty someone in-front of me who happens to be "carrying" a fine set of buttocks that only African women are allowed to "carry" around.
What an easy way to garner every iota of my perverted attention.
She (also) looks good.
She (also) talks good.
She (even) smells good.
We swap numbers and just as am thinking why the man above has been good to me considering I haven't been in a place of worship in ages, she yawns and stretches her hands to reveal...lo and behold...her under arm had more hair than Micheal Jackson when he was black.
Promptly deleted that phone number. If she she has an afro under her arms she probably has dreadlocks between her legs.
Unequivocally NOT my type. Deuces!
*Back in Heaven*
God and Angel Gabriel are cracking up ..."Hahaha, now that was funny. Being God is fun. Back to business. What has the pope tweeted of late ...hmmmm..."
A Moment
Sometimes I seat there and stare at my family and realise how little they know about me.
Should I do my best to prove I'm not as irresponsible as they think I am?
Maybe not.
Sometimes I seat there and stare at the world and realise how little they know about me.
Should I do my best to prove I'm not as irresponsible as they think I am? Maybe not.
What matters most, in my opnion, is not what people percieve of you, good or bad. Its what you know about yourself, good or bad, and just being happy and content with who you are, good or bad.
I actually consider myself very responsible, considering I tidy my bed everymorning before I leave my home.
its the small things you do when no one is watching that define you.
Should I do my best to prove I'm not as irresponsible as they think I am?
Maybe not.
Sometimes I seat there and stare at the world and realise how little they know about me.
Should I do my best to prove I'm not as irresponsible as they think I am? Maybe not.
What matters most, in my opnion, is not what people percieve of you, good or bad. Its what you know about yourself, good or bad, and just being happy and content with who you are, good or bad.
I actually consider myself very responsible, considering I tidy my bed everymorning before I leave my home.
its the small things you do when no one is watching that define you.
Rich White People and Rich Black People
I LOVE studying people. But these one here leaves me stumped.
(Some) of my rich white friends are very different from (most) of my rich black friends.
These chaps (the white ones) come from very established families and are rather wealthy. But their material possessions are very basic. The parents drive basic manual cars with wind down windows. The kids will gladly grab a taxi or bodaboda yet they could easily make use of one of the many staff cars at daddy's workplace. They got basic mobile phones and arent too bothered by a tablet computer. That basic laptop with stickers from high school still running windows xp will suffice. And their TV's are CRT, not LED. At the bar, its a beer. In some random billabong teeshirt and Levi's and chuck taylors.
At home they got lots of books. And travel magazines.
The black ones, oh boy, where do I start. Taxi? Rather be shot dead. A phone that isnt touch or internet enabled and you have ear marked him for suicide. The house must have exotic furnishings, LED screen(s), plush leather seats etc... the works. going out? Umm...cocktails or a bottle of celebrity endorsed liquor...hopefully in the VIP area. Clothing must be labelled.
At home, little or no presence of books (I'm not being funny, very real.)
I asked my rich white friend, why is that so. He says he doesnt know. He was never brought up to indulge in much materialism... but I know its not a case of him alone. I see it in most of them.
But he said he THINKS its cause white folk dont need to "prove" themselves social status or otherwise, but black people always seem to want to prove themselves, social status or otherwise.
Anybody else noticed this? Whats your take?
(Some) of my rich white friends are very different from (most) of my rich black friends.
These chaps (the white ones) come from very established families and are rather wealthy. But their material possessions are very basic. The parents drive basic manual cars with wind down windows. The kids will gladly grab a taxi or bodaboda yet they could easily make use of one of the many staff cars at daddy's workplace. They got basic mobile phones and arent too bothered by a tablet computer. That basic laptop with stickers from high school still running windows xp will suffice. And their TV's are CRT, not LED. At the bar, its a beer. In some random billabong teeshirt and Levi's and chuck taylors.
At home they got lots of books. And travel magazines.
The black ones, oh boy, where do I start. Taxi? Rather be shot dead. A phone that isnt touch or internet enabled and you have ear marked him for suicide. The house must have exotic furnishings, LED screen(s), plush leather seats etc... the works. going out? Umm...cocktails or a bottle of celebrity endorsed liquor...hopefully in the VIP area. Clothing must be labelled.
At home, little or no presence of books (I'm not being funny, very real.)
I asked my rich white friend, why is that so. He says he doesnt know. He was never brought up to indulge in much materialism... but I know its not a case of him alone. I see it in most of them.
But he said he THINKS its cause white folk dont need to "prove" themselves social status or otherwise, but black people always seem to want to prove themselves, social status or otherwise.
Anybody else noticed this? Whats your take?
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