Category: philosophy (Page 1 of 2)



Two decades I have lived…Two decades mired in struggle, married with unrelenting and repetitive not knowing.  Chasing the elusive better tomorrow. Yet I must say, nothing quite scares the living hell out of me like love.

Well, It wasn’t always like that. In the past I loved love. Or the idea of love at least. Two strangers, unwittingly brought together by fate, willingly with tingly sensations losing themselves in each other. Living in a happy place filled with radiant sunshine, beautiful sunsets and starry skies, carried away by breath snatching kisses, goosebumps inducing caresses and hotter than Mombasa at noon love-making.

Turns out the idea my over imaginative head had concerning love couldn’t have been further from the truth. And the truth… it hit me like a ten tonne truck speeding downhill when Zipporah Onsongo broke my heart. I learnt that love wasn’t birthed when you looked at the object of your affections ans she smiled at you. I learnt that love wasn’t all sweet and rosy as the movies would have us believe. I learnt that in reality damsels didn’t go all week in the knee and misty eyed when you told them you love them. And even as smithereens of my ruined heart filled my chest with the pain of a thousand needles. I was dragged down into the dark fathoms of despondency and self loathing. And that’s not the worst part, no. It doesn’t even come close. The worst part is she broke my heart and didn’t even know it. “I love you like a brother.” Was what she said. Words forever etched onto my heart with the vividness of a tattoo.

And like that Love was done with me and I with love. Done and done. Thank you but no thanks. I mean, why can’t we just have sex? No? But why?

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Am not saying I haven’t met other fine ladies after the fiasco with Onsongo the heart breaker hereafter referred to as the “heart breaker.” I have and prettier ones at that. Why, Bertha Lauren was romance itself, Lily was the sweetest girl, I haven’t laughed so hard since Diana, Yvonne stole my virginity, Phine was a lesson in kamasutra, Letisha is the fuck of my life,  Winnie understood me and Rina loved me. I could go on and on but that’s beside the point. The point being that the forbidden fruit while untested is often the sweetest. “The heart breaker” with all her perfect imperfections held sway over me because I couldn’t have her. But that isn’t to mean all the girls who reject me are of consequence.  Far from it. See the mistake I made with “the heart breaker”  was that I invested too much time and feelings into the whole debacle. I day dreamed about her, many a night I night dreamed about her as well with the result that I was hopelessly and pathetically infatuated. Thanks to that experience that is something I don’t do anymore. I don’t fixate on girls. They are not worth it in the long run. Let’s just have sex uh?

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I want you and I, mature adults that we are, to be honest with each other. There is no need to dissemble. Love is for marriage folk and folk looking to get married. More fool they, for marriage kills love faster than the time it takes for Vera Sidika’s twerking derriere to go viral. The rest of us normal folk shouldn’t dabble in the messy affair that is love. We end up complicating shit, as though shit ain’t complicated enough as it is. Let’s just have sex aye?

Life is full of shit. Most of which are self-inflicted, galvanized and fueled by societal notions and expectations. Sex for sex’s sake, done by two individuals who want to, unencumbered by conditional mannerisms is the only pure thing left. Who said love must come first, show me the rationale which qualifies that ideal. Can’t we just get along, like each other along the way, have sex like two idiots and remember each other fondly?

I for one know that am good in bed. And you look like you could be too…I don’t know…so what’s the big deal. Let’s just get on with it. Do the do and be done.

When will they learn? Beauty is unmerited. Beauty is luck.

She is constantly posting pictures of herself across social media platforms. Pictures of her lips pouting on Facebook. Pictures of her butt on Instagram, pictures of her eyes on Facebook and Instagram, pictures of her bellybutton on Instagram and Facebook. Is it insecurity I wonder, is it driven by a compulsive need for compliments? Who knows, perhaps it is pride laced with mediocrity, perchance it is a superiority complex. A never-ending urge to look, appear, do and be better than the next man. Or in this case, woman.

With her pictures come all manner of affirmations. “Self-love is the best love.” Who said so? Or “Stay slaying.” Whatever that means. Or “Life is too short to not have fun.” Fair enough. Or “Meeee.” As if me with one e isn’t good enough. Still, the most pathetic affirmation of the bunch is the ill-disguised lonely state of “Crushing on myself.” Who does that? Who crushes on themselves?

I told her not to be self-absorbed. She told me to go get a life. I asked her if she already got that life herself, she said, “Whatever.” I told her beauty is unmerited favor. Beauty is luck I said. It is not a talent I rationalized. I told her she shouldn’t be good only at looking good. There would come a time when she wouldn’t look as good. What would become of her then? She answered with “You are a hater.” I said, “Am not hating, am empathizing.”
I asked her what her future aspirations were. She gave me a vague answer, “I want to be in a happy place.” I told her there is no such place and to be more specific. She said she wants a happy family. I asked her a question then. I asked… “Who would you like to marry you?” She said she wanted a loving, loyal and financially stable man. I asked her another question then. “Are you loving, loyal and financially stable yourself?” She answered with silence. “Then why should a loving, loyal and financially stable man marry you? What does he have to gain from the arrangement?” She wasn’t able to answer yet again. I smiled and went on to tell her a simple truth. One as universal as the sun, a truth as sure as the rain.

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“Beauty is luck, No one works for it. Don’t let looking good be your defining feature. Beauty can get you places yes, it can open some doors for you I agree…but beauty fades…and when it does…go figure. In the meantime, it hasn’t. If you keep using it to get the things you think you want but which in real sense you don’t need, then you are no better than the prostitutes that line the streets at night. Indeed in your hypocrisy, you are worse than they.

In conclusion, no one respects a beautiful prostitute, but everyone respects a beautiful singer, lawyer, actor, teacher, author, business woman. You get my point. Get something to be good at and be good at it. Let not your beauty be who you are, but rather let it compliment who you are.”

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If you want a man to be great, put him where the fight is bitterest. He will either die and be forgotten. Or he will come into himself and become legend. (Bujabs Dennis)


We find ourselves in this world by no choosing of our own. We are here, and here we must stay…for a while at least. Before we depart for the unknown as is the fate of each and every man who sets foot here. The most important thing therefore, is the legacy we live for our children and for those that will outlive us. “How will they remember us?” That is the question we must endeavor to answer.


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The truth of the matter is, most of us don’t give a butt how they will be remembered. For them life is simple. They live for the fun…they live for the moment, most of all they live for themselves. But such is their choice. And who am I to judge, I say live and let live.


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If truth be said, then most of us will be forgotten the moment our caskets hit the dirt and the grave is covered. Heroes and warriors of lore the likes of Alexander and Spartacus died ages ago…and sad though it may be…the truth is most of us live mundane lives…most of are born in a normal setting to normal parents. Raised in a normal home, schooled using the normal curriculum. Most of us finish school and get normal jobs…then marry normal spouses…lead normal boring married lives…die normal deaths…and are not remembered at all. But who am I to judge…I say live and let live.


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Yes…most of us dream… Almost all of us want to be great. But want is not the same as need. And in this case as in many others, need trumps want. Sadly…dreams will always remain dreams. If you really want to be remembered…grab your manhood. (Sorry ladies.) Push out your chest and go out and seize your glory.
All heroes of legend are men and women who stepped out of their comfort zones. Men and women who dared to achieve that which everyone else deemed impossible. And in achieving it…they became a standard after which everyone aspires.
But to those of us who are too cowardly to stake a claim for themselves… I say, live and let live. After all, who am I to judge?


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No such thing will happen. No greatness is achieved without struggle. If it were so…all of us would be great. No…greatness is achieved through sweat…and bone breaking struggle. Through several failed attempts. Through hundreds of rejections, underestimation, hate, and plain servitude. That is what it means to be a legend.
And for the sake of posterity…. I will define the term. Not in the conventional terms. But as I see it. A legend is he who pushes through the murk, through the unbelief of self and peers…and against all odds, surpasses that which everyone else though his potential.
But for those foolhardy enough to think a miracle may happen along the way to push them through the massed ranks of competition to the pinnacle of greatness. Who am I to judge? I say live and let live.


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Not everyone can be great. Because others must lead while others follow…. And if that were not the way…then who would the leader lead?
We admire greatness because only a few can and may be great. Most of us are destined to sit in the sidelines to watch others become great. Maybe even to help them along the way…. But to remain forever behind.
And to those that are not what legends are made of…who am I to judge? I say live and let live.
In conclusion… life was given us…and live it we must. But as we live it…lets live the best we can live. And as for Bujabs Dennis…. I will never be most of us.

The things NOBODY thought to TELL US about LIFE

If your upbringing was anything like mine. Then you have several notions ingrained into your brain. Notions about what life is and is not. Advice given willingly, lessons learnt through pain and happiness. Our parents in a bid to prepare us told us many things. Alas, life as it is…is impossible to encompass.

Life happens. And the best we can do is live with it. Below are the things nobody told us. Lessons our parents and guardians left out. Knowingly or unknowingly, we will never know.
What we know…is that we learnt these things on our own. And the earlier you learn…the better. So if you are in the know…good for you. Thumps up.
If not.

Then read closely.

Life is not fair.

Life is many things. Life is fun. Life is sad. Life is an adventure. Life is a journey. The one thing life is not. The one thing it will never be…is fair. It’s an injustice we have come to respect and accept. We know it in our veins. It happens before our very eyes.
Good men die young. Bad men die old. Deserving individuals seldom get what they deserve. Undeserving individuals get what those deserving deserve. It’s a circle of sickening improbability. The ultimate evidence of man’s helplessness in the face of fate. But be that as it may, we deal. The brave warrior goes into the arena expecting two eventualities. The fact that he accepts this and ventures into the arena still, is what makes him a warrior.

Living is not the same for everyone

We live in different worlds.

To explain the above rhetoric I must borrow from an allegorical novella I’m hoping you’ve read. If you haven’t…do yourself a favor and read it. The book is George Orwell’s Animal Farm. The prevailing ideology in the book is the famous line… “All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.” The book, a contemporary satire which for the purposes of this context I choose to take literally, is an attempt by some “animals” to understand why other “animals” live better lives yet all of them are ‘ANIMALS.”
This dilemma exists in reality. Nobody chooses where they will be born. Yet where one is born a prince. Another no less deserving is born a pauper.

Everyone wants to associate with success. Not failure

Years of intricate planning and tedious hassle will eventually make you appear an overnight success. Nobody is much concerned about the process of getting to a destination. As long as the destination is got to.
Nobody will support a starter. No one will throw your way a word of encouragement when you are still in the murk of the gator. Yet when you get to where you want to be…the very same people will say they knew you had it in you. How very unhelpful.

Love and money go together.

Money complements love.

Love and money are complimentary. Yes…..I know…I know…. Many will argue that it is character and not financial providence that is most important in a relationship. To those people I only have this to say: You’ve never been poor and in love.
American musician Rick Ross on the topic rationalizes most eloquently and accurately. “Girls want to have fun. And a nigga (brother) with some change. And fun (The kind of fun they want) is expensive. Or at least it was the last time I checked.

You alone decide where you are going to end up.

Your future. Your responsibility.

Not your brother. Not your mother. Not your Uncle and definitely not your grandmother nor your grandmother’s best friend. The end is on you and nobody else. If you choose to go to the moon…and you work towards that…so what if you get to the clouds. You tried. But then again… what if you actually get to the moon. Ahaaa. WHAT IF?…

5 things in life you must never compromise on.

I have been doing some serious thinking lately. I say serious because I subscribe to the opinion; reflection maketh a man. And to think is to entertain possibilities, to discover solutions, to recover contemplations. So having pondered, upon the subject; this life (we so appropriately) find ourselves in. Having reflected upon man’s hopeless yet relentless pursuit of self actualization. I have reached obvious (Yet most times overlooked solutions). I have discovered that the best life is in our dreams but since we reside in reality. We just have to make do…
What to do friends…. when you know happiness is elusive…ambitions more elusive and true friends elusiver still.
I find that Life is imperfect, but imperfection is beauty. Madness is genius….and its better to be true to yourself, than to try (A fools task) to please everyone.
I have discovered that to truly live…action must be taken. Drastic measures even. And that some things in life must never be compromised on. Those things…are….


Define you. Because only you know you best. Don’t let nobody tell you who you are. Rather; tell them who you are.
One of the codes I live by is know thyself . You should too. All my life I have endeavoured to be faithful to this. To live for me…make decisoins for me…and do the things I do for me. I figure, If you know yourself. Your identity, your motivations, strengths and weaknesses. Then you can begin… Begin to live. For you. And if you make any wrong turns, you have only yourself to blame. If you make all the right turns… you have yourself to thank. That in essence is the element of the adage. So folks, friends… Know thyself.


The only keeper of your happiness is you. Stop giving anyone the power to control your smile, your worth and your attitude. (Mandy Hale)

Life is about happiness. The one thing we can define life by is Man’s endless pursuit for happiness. When we are born, our parents are happy. Not entirely because we have been born. Look at it from this perspective. The father realizes that he has the power of life in his loins. He carries himself differently. He then proceeds to boast to friends. Friends whose regard of him increases, why? He is now truly a man. Thus he is happy. The woman likewise. We grow up, and are inducted into the education system…the reason being? Education is the path to a bright future. Or so we are led to believe. A bright future which will guarantee a good life, which will in turn usher in happiness. We seek employment to make a living. A living derived from hours of unpleasant toiling. All in the pursuit of happiness. We seek friends, lovers, betray others… ignore others, adore others….to be HAPPY. We dream about being wealthy, because we suppose money comes with happiness. As such, We can argue… happiness is the prime motivator. The absolute government. Everything we do, everything we wish we could do…are our minds warped attempts at attaining that most slippery of states. HAPPINESS.
That said, your happiness is of the utmost importance. Indeed its relevance in life can’t be overstated. Therefore; deriving from the argument laid above. Don’t compromise on your happiness. They say there is no key to happiness…the gate is always open. It’s entirely up to you…to go for what makes you happy, irrespective of what anyone’s thoughts on the matter are. And if they call you selfish…well…let them. After all…life is only so long.



The two most important days in life are; the day you are born and the day you find out WHY. (Mark twain)

There is nothing so sad as a life of unfulfilled potential. One filled with regret of what is and what could have been. You owe it to yourself to achieve your dream. The road to which is riddled with depression, rejection, betrayal, hurt, fear and a hundred other bad things. But your dream it is…you chose it…and so you have to follow it where it leads. Just as there is nothing sadder than unfulfilled potential, there is nothing more gratifying than living your dream in reality.
So keep on keeping on. Aim if you aimed for the stars. Don’t abandon them for the clouds because clouds are more convenient. Convenient they may be…but they will never make you happy.


Marry a person you see yourself growing old with. Its called Marri-4-age for Gods sake!

I pray that you live long…and meet your soul mate and marry. (That is if you haven’t already.) And please on that momentous day. Marry a person that completes you…one you see yourself living a dozen years with. Not a one who makes you tired and morose after a couple of hours. To marry a person such as this; because of say their looks or their position in society would be madness. That right there, is courting unpleasant eventualities like domestic violence, adultery and divorce.
So for people looking to marry. I have only this advice. Don’t go for safe. (Most women will compromise arguing attributes like; he will never go violent. He may not make my heart skip a bit but at least he is available, he has money, I know he will never cheat on me….blah, blah, utter rubbish. Complete nonsense. Marry the person you always so your self marrying. If it’s a prince you want to marry. well…Good for you. After all, you are to blame for setting your standards that high. Others will argue that such is being unrealistic. I say, fuck them and their opinions. Go for it.
Marriage is depressing, trying, tiring, absolutely and ridiculously difficult. Do yourself a favor. Marry a person you can TOLERATE.


When people treat you like they don’t care; Believe them. They don’t.

Tell me who your friends are… and I will tell you who you are.
Aspire to associate with friends that make you better. Those that challenge you to be more than you are. And if you are the brightest of your friends…you need other friends. Permit me to say that the above doesn’t necessarily mean that you abandon your “lesser” wayward acquaintances. You may need them someday. But the bulk of your associates, those you spend most of your time with, should be people who inspire you to become what you want to become.
If all your friends do is call you to ask where and when you will be going out. To gossip on “Hot” and new catches. Or worse still….discourage you whenever you confide in them your ambitions. Then its simple. Run! Run run. You are better of without them.


So friends; the above are my humble ingredients for a better, more, productive and fulfilling life. Keep dreaming.

Yesternight. When I finished writing this article.

Yeeeeah. Feeling Myself.

Its your boy. Bujabs


Go hard or GO HOME

The only way to become what you want to become, Is to become what you want to become. (Bujabs Dennis)


As a kid, I dreamt about the kind of life I would lead someday. It mattered little that I was growing up in an orphanage, Indeed the orphanage only strengthened my resolve. At the time, I was (Still is) what you could call a dreamer. Back then, I was a none-entity in the orphanage; The smallest, dirtiest, most disorganized kid that ever lived. I was clumsiness personified. And as a result of growing up in that place, I had to develop a thick hide, a very thick hide. Why? because as is the case where a child grows up away from his parents, I would often and without fail, bear the brunt of molesters and their petty tendencies. It didn’t help that one of my foster parents was the strictest disciplinarian that ever walked the face of the planet. My backside was always the canvas of her artistic disciplinarian measures.

Every kid dreams about being rich and famous….But the reality is; It’s not that simple.

But still I dreamt, my naivety was pronounced, I thought growing up would solve all my problems. Voila! I would leave the orphanage, and two; I would be rick, like filthy rich and famous too. And loved, and accepted and respected. Turns out I thought wrong, see; the problem I had at the time was; I wasn’t doing anything to make my dream come true, I still believed in miracles, I knew with absolute certainty and without any measure of any doubt, that I would grow up and somehow…I would become. Become what you ask? Become rich of course. I was living a day at a time, counting the days and the times. I was living and dreaming.  But in my defense; there wasn’t much I could do in terms of pursuing dreams. I loved soccer (Still do) and I was good too…turns out my foster parents thought it a waste of time. The only thing I was left with was my love of reading and writing. But even with that; I owned no story books, I was relegated to reading the occasional novel borrowed from a friend in school (A novel I had to keep hidden at all times lest it be snatched, especially if it touched on erotica.) newspapers, comics ( I had to keep these hidden too.) and the bible. The bible was encouraged with the result that I know so much of the scriptures I would very well make a good televangelist or Evangelist or any list to do with the bible.

Every child yearns for acceptance and encouragement…to better pursue their dreams.

To cut the long story short, (The story of my life would encompass several non-fictions.) I am grown up now; 22 is not very adult but, I can safely say without fear of contradiction that I am an individual capable of discerning thought and responsible decision-making. I am grown up; and nothing much has changed. I am not rich and famous as I had previously envisioned. My point is; to dream is not bad, neither is it evil but dreaming no matter how enraptured stands for nothing unless you are doing something to achieve it. Dreaming achieves Nada if you do not take matters into your own hands and work towards said dreams. It finally hit me, that to become rich and famous, to achieve my childhood fantasy, I have to work for it. No speed bumps no shortcuts, just hard, smart work. The basic philosophy of society is simple; Go hard or go home.

Work work work…there is no shortcut to anyplace worth going.

I now recognize that I make choices, but in the end my choices make me. I am working towards my dream, the first step of which was…to fold my sleeves, get my hands into the muck, get dirty and get going. SEE, Now I understand. If am going to become rich and famous, I have to do this one simple thing, something you will have to do too if your dream is anything like mine. Go hard or go home.

The genius in my head.

Life is ten percent what happens to us, ninety percent how we react to it. I read that somewhere, don’t ask me where. But see, me being me, I read the saying and instantly found a problem with it. Now, my problem is not the saying, neither is it the wording of it, (the English is sublime, the punctuation perfect.) My problem is not even with the idiot that penned it. (We are all idiots, the only deference is the measure of idiocy we possess.) My problem is with the rationale behind the saying.

What I mean to say, if I mean to say anything, (I find that many times I am possessed of unthinkable thinking and unreasonable reasoning.)   But you see the joy of that is, even though many times my thinking is fraught with errors of allusion to expression, sometimes, like today I stumble upon the genius in my brain.  And every time I stumble upon the genius, he wants out, his motto being; if you talk you die, if you don’t talk you die. So it is better to talk. 

Life is ten percent what happens to us, a lie. A big naked lie. Why? We are born differently (The biology is the same, i admit, but the demographics are different: Age, race, sex, economic status, level of education, income level and employment, among others.) We live differently, we even die differently. So to say life is ten percent what happens to us is innately and fundamentally wrong, the saying perhaps unconsciously leans towards generalization of the masses.  And that is where the genius in my head comes in, he says: all generalizations are false, even this one. Hence the saying life is ten percent what happens to us would perhaps be true if the demographics of life were the same. (The genius in my head just talked again, he said: Sometimes the same is different, but mostly its the same.)

In summary, what the genius in my head is rumbling on about is, life is not ten percent what happens to us and ninety percent how we react to it. But the things we do to, differently of course, to make our lives, (lives we find ourselves in by no choice of our own) better. And that is the crux of the matter, the tributary that separates my thought process from that of Charles R. Swindoll

To BE or not to BE;Synonymous or dissimilar.

Should we then in essence live simply so that others may simply live? Should we adopt indifference, which is to say; live and let live?

Between the options of known and unknown, which is proper? Should we in living endeavor to be synonymous, losing ourselves anonymously in the throng of society?

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Or should we in living strive to be dissimilar, each to his fate and God for us all? And if then, does God even exist? What is the ideal of religion if not the figment of imagination, a supreme being in whom we place our hopes of self actualization, believing, perhaps foolishly, that there is a reason behind everything, and that said benevolent deity has a purpose for us. Should we then in all rightness of mind place our expectations in a third party we can’t substantiate?

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For you to understand my position and appreciate the extent of my dilemma, you must first submerge into my point of view.

Natural selection has become artificial, survival of the fittest desolate because the fittest do not survive anymore. The race of life is handicapped by money and societal positioning. That then being the case, it renders the case very complicated.

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Nobody chooses placement, indeed we end up where we end up, whether that be down or up. We are either born too early or too late, either way, ill equipped to dance with fate.
Many, in the highest echelons of absurdity, argue fervently that they are masters of their fate; to which I say, show me a man who knows his end game and I will call you a liar and know it to be true.

Society is orchestrated and in its highs and lows, it flows and goes.
What is society but an in nominate institution of pseudonymous individuals unattested because in the end everyone is born and gone.

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A beautiful mind.

I must be dreaming…
but my eyes are open, which means am awake…
Maybe, I am awake dreaming that am asleep, or I am asleep dreaming that am awake.
Or, more likely,I am asleep dreaming that am awake wondering if am dreaming.

No wonder everything looks a nightmare. I heard it said, that sometimes the same is different, but mostly its the same. And that is how life progresses.
The good news is, we have each other to get through a lousy situation.
The bad news is, it is a lousy situation.
You wake up in the morning and feel pissed about the routine that is life.
I’d rather it was a roller coaster, it falls to you to make it one.

Whats more, everyone knows no one and everyone is concerned about nobody but themselves. And about what everyone will say, NO, THINK about them. If only we could read thoughts, so many of us would commit suicide.

I know you are wondering what direction this article is taking, stop wondering and just read. Remember, any fool can know, the point is to understand.

It doesn’t matter much where we are. but in what direction we are moving. So just keep on keeping on. Never let it rest until your good is better and your better is best.

And always remember  Roosevelt words, “we have nothing to fear but fear itself”

Excerpts from a nigga scripture

The hood called Eden.

In the beginning, Adam, a nigga holding it down in the hood called Eden. Pimped out in Versace, with Jays on his feet like in the chorus of that song 23 by Miley Cyrus, was enjoying a siesta with his mamacita Eve when suddenly she decided to go on a stroll.

“Yo Adam, let me hit the Jacuzzi in the garden for a few.” She said jovially and set out with purpose, she was dressed in a Victoria Secrets bikini, and was looking real good. Looking real good. Just before she got to the Jacuzzi the hater Lucifer showed up, now you need to understand that Lucifer was always trying to hit it but Eve refused him severally.

So when he showed up, his heart green with envy he hollered. “E.V.E, you looking good gal! Same as always, same as always, I got something for you.” And Eve was like, “What the deal is?” Then Lucifer was like “ I got this apple laptop in my crib, and I can pour you some Ciroc too, plus I really think you need to let me hit that.” Well, you know how that story ended.

The burning bush

One hot day Moses was out doing some touring, he had left his Porsche 911 back at his hacienda, preferring to just go on foot. Besides, he had his iPod too, and was listening to some maybach music. Suddenly he spied a burning bush. Damn, he got curious my nigga.

So he decided to go check it out. “Let me drop by in my new new, in my you can’t afford this and check that out.” he thought to himself. When he got to the bush, he noticed something strange, the bush was burning but the bush wasn’t burning. He was like. “W.T.F!” He didn’t know that God was in the fire.
Also Moses was wearing these Timberland boots and that really pissed God off, because God preferred Gucci. So God shouted. “MOSES, TAKE OFF THOSE SHOES!” Yeah, something of the sort.

The escape from Egypt

Now Pharaoh, a filthy rich Arab had enslaved the Israelite s. He used them to build him some really great real estate like that pyramid of Giza and shit. Then he rented out the real estate and bought himself expensive stuff. A Bugatti Veyron, A BIG ass yacht and some nice platinum bling bling. He thought he was clever. But one day, my nigga Moses gave a hell of a speech and caused the Israelite s to riot. The speech went like this. “This pharaoh is a pussy ass nigga, he sits in his 10 bed roomed mansion while we bust our asses out here every day. Well, he can kiss my ass. Come with me and let us burn this motherfucker. Am out!” And the Israelite s burned that place and got the hell out of there.

David and Goliath

David was a handsome young fella in Israel. All the bitches in his hood fancied him. Because he had this charming smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and David loved them back. Indeed, David’s favorite song was always strapped by Bird-man and Lil Wayne. Each day as he sauntered in his neck of the woods, with a bevy of damsels behind him, he could be heard singing the chorus

“Always strapped when I hit the club, niggas give me dap, bitches give me hugs, and since am paid, niggas be mugging me, you know I’m mugging back, bitches be loving me, they know I love em back.”

And then he would delve into verse one.

“Check me out look…
26 inches, bitch I’m sitting crooked
Old school Chevy, faster than a silver bullet…
Straw berry paint, seats vanilla pudding…
Two bitches, gone and eat each others pussy…
Top chopped sent the car to the barbershop…
My driveway looks something like a parking lot…
I’m so unorthodox…
I got your bitch riding my dick with no shocks…Bounce bitch, bounce, bounce.

In short, those were the happy days, the days before Goliath showed up. Now Goliath was a beast of a nigga, belched out from the underworld to ravage pillage and rape. All the while singing Lil Wayne’s pussy, money, weed. Indeed, Goliath loved only three things, pussy, money and weed. And so he set black fear into the hearts of the Israelite s. “I will kill you all, cut out your heads and piss in your throats, and then I’ll finish it off by raping your corpses.” He bragged. He was a warrior unlike any other. But in the end, David fucked him up.

Solomon and his harem

Solomon, the son of David was the greatest Casanova the world has ever seen, the greatest the world will ever see. I mean, if you want a nigga who had them bitches. Then it’s this brother. Can you believe that my homeboy Solomon had 1000 bitches? Caucasian bitches, ebony bitches, black bitches, white bitches. All kinds of bitches. He even had bitches who loved bitches. Solomon would wake up like. “I want to fuck a white bitch today, or I want to fuck two bitches today.” Isn’t that the life to live? If I had 1000 bitches I would be like, “fuck yeah!!”
To be continued……

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