what grinds my balls.

4. False advertising. Don't get me wrong. I like advertising. The creativity. The lifestyle it sells. The different vantage point of looking at a product. It's awesome. The only rock in my shoe is when the product doesn't deliver. What's worse, is when it doesn't even do what it says it does. At the moment, I'm properly pissed at Brookes' Oros orange squash. As you know or may not know, it's summer down here in the south of the equator and it's blazing in Botswana. Charcoal is the in skin tone. Refreshment is critical in this weather.
There is nothing quite as refreshing as a nice cold Fresca on a hot summer day especially wearing flip-flops. That's because 'NOTHING ON EARTH TASTES LIKE FRESCA.' I wonder what ever happened to Fresca? Probably high levels of heavy metals found in it. Anyway, after Fresca comes Brookes' Oros orange squash, commonly known as Oros or Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh Oros. This is one beverage and a half and then some. For decades (actually only 2) i have enjoyed the way it teases my mouth, flashes it's underwear at me and finally give it's merry fruit. Sweet Black Jesus! I love how the last drop circumnavigates around the ice cubes and hits the taste bud g-spot and I exhale heavily as I usually drink it all in one go. Yeah, it's a beautiful thing.

Now, If you read closely on the sticker plastered on the 2L bottle, there is a portion which says "Makes 8 litres." This got me excited and confused like that one time in Standard 3 my privates got rigor mortis. I bought the 2L Oros and carefully placed three empty 2L bottles around it. Day 1 passed. Nothing. Day 2 passed. Nothing. Day 3 passed. Still, nothing. I don't know what it was supposed to make 8L of but i know i was ripped off. Stupid Oros just sat there in the pantry, staring at the empty bottles.

*Somebody, i'm assuming he is an expert at padded cells, said when i dilute 1 part Oros with 3 parts of water i should get 8L. This Cro magnon obviously can't read. It says "Makes 8 litres" NOT "Make 8 litres."   

My Type

I don't have one. Spend time with me and I will find something to make me irrational. Not to say there is an abundance of choice. There is one elusive unicorn that my centaur searches for. It's the one that will STRIP ME WITH ITS WORDS AND FUCK ME WITH ITS INTELLIGENCE.  

Altered Chemistry

Balloon filled with helium floating to the sky

Broken piano keys cry soothing vibrations

Skyline saturated with rich colours

Riding flying pigs whilst ingesting their sides

Bacon can give an unnatural high

Uppers and energy drinks

Chasing dreams made easier

Just not yet

Staring at the holes in the ceiling

We make snow angels

Swimming in the intangible

Oblivious of the parallel world just outside

Entropy!

They found her lifeless

Staring at her thoughts

Mars Rover-ing her mind, possibly

She had followed the bunny down the rabbit hole

In a dilapidated sanctuary

A cracked house 

I do not cry for her

She is not the dust they say she is

After, we should chase her on her new trip

Lets blow

It's Darwin's Fault

Okay, maybe not. The English naturalist is credited for establishing that all species are from a common ancestor and the differences between us are due to a process called evolution. 

Evolution is the change in the inherited characteristics of biological populations over successive  generations. Evolutionary processes give rise to diversity at every level of biological organisation, including species, individual organisms and molecules such as DNA and proteins (according to the go to website Wiki). 

Creationists will tell you otherwise. "There is Book, written by men but it's not their words. They are the words of a supreme they conjured to explain the unfathomable." Fear of the unknown imprisons them in religion. I digress. I tend to do that.

Evolution. This a direct resultant of a 'gradual, non-random process by which biological traits become either more or less common in a population as a function of differential reproduction of their bearers' which Charles termed NATURAL SELECTION. From wayza human beings used natural selection to better survive the environment in which lived. The women would go for the strongest and best hunter in the clan. The one with long locks and the most hair on his chest. The one whose odour scared off the mountain lions at night. He was the guy. The alpha male. Whilst the men, the visual creature that they were (and are), would want to bag the hottie in the compound. The young lass with the full bosom. The one with the moist crack because her rear was more than enough and was more inviting than any surrounding bachelor cave. She could never resist though. Even if she tried to defer his advances, he had a club. A CLUB!! That must be first known date-rape 'drug" (I was washing my knees and feet at the lagoon, next thing i know, i wake up with a sore head and Hlobile sleeping beside me.") There was little or no choice if the alpha male fancied them. The combination of their genes was one that was envied. The probability of their offspring being a strong and dashing young'n was favourable. Basic Mathematics.

Even today, we still use natural selection to choose partners. Either we look, for those who we bond on a spiritual/subconscious level or the one we can have a comfortable living with. It's still a choice. Nowadays, the choices we make are mostly for the sake of our future children. To provide them with more than just their basic needs, private schools, snazzy clothes but mostly so they won't be bullied in the school playground for not being good looking. Looks are important when choosing a partner because it is bloody irresponsible for people to be having ugly babies this day and age if you ask. You don't even have to ask me, i will volunteer that information whilst you show me pictures of your baby. Charles would shake his head 'til it feel if that would be the situation.

A study in Canada has shown that a good looking woman, no matter how many average looking men are available, will not settle for someone who she thinks is not pleasing to look at. By extrapolation, gorgeous women will mate good looking men and bring forth great looking babies. THE LATER THEY ARE BORN, THE BETTER LOOKING THEY WILL BE. Now let us make good looking babies or protect our children from pedophiles and grown ass men who let them place their feet on the wooden finish dashboards of their fancy cars. It's your choice, really. I gave you an excuse. With a great excuse, comes great responsibility. Use it wisely

Kiss Me DamnIt!!!

When young, I read on how to use apples to learn how to snog
Now,
I have found the vine I want to pick all my kisses from
Finally.
In the world after the 'red pill', her beauty is in code
For appreciation perceived by the oculus has a judgement day
My vision of her is in braille
Assimilate to the taproot of my spirit
Her mind (soul) is arousing


A bubble is created when our eyes target lock
Eskimo kisses, butterfly kisses and what-not 
The chills that stampede effortlessly on backs as we lock, lick and bite the passion fruit
She would lead
I would follow her to unknown paradises below
Shangri-La!!


See?
I want her 
I want her to make legend true
I want her to give me that toxic waste irradiated with gamma rays type of love
Basically, 
I want that super kind of love
Which i know can only exist in the never after


Demise? Kiss me damn it! 

Six Pack

"I want a man who takes care of his body. Goes to the gym one in while. Not the bodybuilder types with veins ready to pop out but he should have big strong arms and a six pack wouldn't hurt a well chiseled torso. I'm only into looks but the section requires me to state the body type I fancy on my desired man."
This is what women (or should i say girls and butt pirates) usually put on their Bios when looking for mates. Why this is attractive? I don't know. Not that there is anything wrong with that, its just that your standards are just out just plain stupid.
These tall, dark and handsome men you like so much are ASSHOLES. Literally!!! Ok, not literally but the similarities are uncanny. Which means they can be mistaken for an actual asshole (especially by me and the rest of the world). Why?


1. They are usually dark (or tan for Caucasian people)
2. They don't smell so great unless thoroughly cleaned. Douche them if necessary.
3. Just poking them can stir up a shit storm (te he he).
4. They are always uptight. Only weak one relax but not by choice.
5. When they open up, it's usually shit that come out. 
6. They are all muscle. I mean every part is a muscle, just like a sphincter which is all muscle.


Now, come on. Lift that dead weight. Run on that treadmill. Drop and give me 500 push ups. Drink those protein shakes (which makes your farts smell like the pit latrine of the local abortionist). Get lean and mean. Because, you never know. One day you might meet a lady who wants you to help her open a bottle of Black Cat Crunchy peanut butter with just your ass cheeks. Or you could show do your party trick of lifting a sack of butternuts with just your nipples.
Go on. GE RIPPED! Become a nought between the cheeks.

 The 

     beauty 

    of 

      darkness 

   is 

  

  IMAGINATION

-Mbatshi

Rainbows For Dogs

It's that time of the month again
My period colours my soul that West African skin tone
I find solitude in my imaginary tree house
Mental calisthenics have me traversing the hidden compartments of my memory
It's vast and open. It's beautiful and dark
It's dark. Okay, now it's only dark
Why?


I see her


There is a nagging sound that soothes me 
Mother nature has opened her legs to shower us 
Cracked skylines
I like how the water droplet rolls down the window i'm looking through


I tell her we should go where trains go to die
Where we could watch the night gut and spill the blood of the day into the sky
Where her shine will make the sun squint its eyes
She kissed my cheek and could taste my tears
"It will be alright," she says.
And quoted Buzz Lightyear
"To infinity, and beyond"