Why The World Will Never Be A Better Place

PHOTO   CREDITS: memshappen.com

PHOTO CREDITS: memeshappen.com

Humans. Strange species these ones. Many times I wish I was born alien, but then I remember that there would be no guarantee that I would still get to have an ass so natural and squat-free as I do now, so I sit it down and suck it up. Do forgive me, Optimus Prime but I mean, we have all seen alien butt in the movies…most of them look like something a car ran over, thrice, and the good ones resemble Humpty Dumpty after he has fallen over the wall. Therefore, all ass-ets and ass-urances considered, I am kind of glad that the Almighty saw it fit to make me human, woman to be precise.

Moving on swiftly, (from my posterior blessings) I have realized overtime that human kind may be the most intelligent of God’s creation, but amongst ourselves, we are quite the jumbled up type, and that is okay to a certain level,just not to the extremes described below. The world will never be a better place because of these people;

  1. The kind-of fucked up
  2. The very fucked up
  3. The SERIOUSLY fucked up
  4. The ‘Okay, that head just wasn’t filled up with brain’ fucked up.

You will give all you have to someone and do all you can to make sure they are happy. Then at first sight of a prettier or taller person they will break your heart and treat you like shit, then ask if you can still be friends. That is kind of fucked up.

Your best friend will tell all your dirty little secrets to her other BFF, the one you’d rather go to Jehovah Wanyonyi than say a word to. They will dissect every little thing you do with your life, give high fives as they laugh and scoff at all the mistakes you have made. Then she will bring her ass back to you for some more soup, all the while shamelessly singing the ‘as long as my b*@ches love me…’Drake line. That is VERY, fucked up.

A man will collude with his sisters to kill their parents just so they will get to inherit some darn ass wealth. Then they will use most of it to pay for whatever means most effective to hide the fact that they committed murder, and the rest to file law suits and to sue each other’s asses in court for mismanagement of the same wealth they killed for. Others will divide your wealth and property amongst themselves whilst you are still alive, just in case you die, like Adebayor’s folk. That is SERIOUSLY fucked up.

Hundreds of men are almost dying of zee thirst, bravely enduring long terms of dry spells, using their Vaseline for more than just their faces. A Mollis gets the chance to have a good lay and enjoy it for what it is then decides that, ” You know what, why not record it? It would make a really good reference the next time I am alone and the little man below is demanding for attention. In fact, why not let the world know,or hear to be precise,of the stallion I am, just because?”

Tell you what Mollis, you indeed come close to being a stallion, because you are an ass of an ignoramus that The Almighty should consume with the fire of fires that will roast you so hard you won’t recognize your left scrotum from your right. You take the crown of Mr. Ultimate Fuck-up.

Hii story ya wanadamu by the way, nimesalenda. Nimeshoka nayo. I recently found my Channing, and we are ascending to Jupiter soon. 🙂


Need A Life Change? Try This!

PHOTO CREDITS: animalmemes.com

PHOTO CREDITS: animalmemes.com

Forget potato crisps. Get me a box of Oreo or Borneo (I cannot seem to decide which of the two is sweeter so I am gonna keep stroking them till I find a winner. No pun intended.) and I will marry you. Well, I will consider it and they say that it is the thought that matters, don’t they? I really cannot believe that I am about to dedicate an entire post to a couple of dark round biscuits with a splash of cream in between. On second thought, I think I can, because junk is the current love of my life. Second, if watching funny baby videos on YouTube counts. This is so because as you might or might not be aware, I have since ceased to relate with anything in the name of a man, and that includes Kermit the frog. All he does is turn sensible statements into stupid memes, and then goes on to sip on his shitty drink like he’s done nothing wrong.Image result for memes with kermit the frog See? The typical man. Always finding a way to turn something, everything, that’s so sweet and sensible and good into nothing, and not give two donkeys about itL. I would spend my time and post hating and cursing their already cursed existence, but my fingers are extremely exhausted from all the poking I have been doing lately, of my nose and of other places I’d rather not talk about right now. Therefore I’d rather just use the little energy left in them to write about things as sweet and as innocent as myself, like Oreos.

Oh sweet Oreo/Borneo! I am oh so delighted to have met ye. You make the sun in my life much warmer, the rain seems much more watery when you fill my mouth. The taste of you is like heaven itself; of course not better than when Boris Kodjoe kisses me, in my castle of castles of imaginations, but still. You come close, very close. Your wheat parts, so very dark, and luscious, extra sensual and chocolaty. Your delicious curves have no end, literally, because you are perfectly circular. The layer of cream in between…oh Oreo/Borneo, so creamy and thick, and way better than that part where the ice cream hits the cone and you’ve got to eat both at the same time.


You know I’d make piggy tails with his hair and throw Justin Bieber into the Pacific for you if you asked me to. I’d cut off Miley Cyrus’s tongue so that you won’t have to die ten thousand times every time she irritatingly sticks it out in a pic or video.(No offence Miley. Wrecking Ball is still the real shit) I would even subject my ears to the unbearable pain of listening to Willy Paul’s ‘Mama’ without commenting about his dream of becoming Rihanna’s twin because that song’s beats and everything in its musical arrangement sounds almost exactly like Disturbia. But only if you like the man, that is. Otherwise I’d find him and ask him what’s with the shiny feminine lip gloss he refuses to stop using.

What I am trying to say, sweet Oreo/Borneo, is that I love you, adore you to be more precise. You make me complete and I cannot live without you. I want to keep eating you, all the days of my life. I might end up looking like some fatty magnified storage of all the world’s calories in the process but I honestly don’t care, as long as you are in me. You are all I need and all I want. May you continue to exist for a very long time to come. I have plans to let my great grandkids experience and explore the same joys and pleasures that you so gracefully bestow upon me. By then you’ll probably have evolved into something better with a different kind of name, like Groreo maybe. Nah, that just sounds like a Kikuyu trying to say something nice but failing miserably at it. Oreo/Borneo in itself is hard already for them, so please keep the name as it is, if you ever wanna change. Just looking out for a fellow citizen you know.

PHOTO CREDITS: beauty2015.net

PHOTO CREDITS: beauty2015.net

I am done showering praise on le boo (actually I am not, my fingers have just run out of the energy to go on, and Zac Efron is on TV, shirtless. So I kind of, no, I WANT, to focus on that piece of glorious perfection-that fine face and those fine fine abs-because I need the images firmly engraved into my mind for business later on in the night) but y’all gotta try this Oreo/Borneo stuff. I’m telling you, you will get arousals you have only ever dreamed of. Appetite arousals. (May God thoroughly cleanse that dirty-mind of yours) And if your cable subscription has run out, or it just sucks outright, you will find the shitty local programmes way bearable as long as you’ve got Oreo/Borneo by your side. Then, after you have realized and partaken of this tenth wonder of the world, find me and thank me. I only need like…fifty boxes of them, as a thank you gift. Thank you.