My Late Night Calling Rule
A GUY friend of mine yesterday told me he lies in the group of people I screw or intend to screw. On hearing this, my balls immediately fell off their sack, rolled across the floor, out of the back door and jumped off the balcony! They were in utter shock. I could hear one of them shouting ... 'Crasy Nairopian is a ticktatooooooor!' ... as it fell off the balcony to the unforgiving concrete down below. They had to run away from me. That way, they were sure I would not have the balls to be screw him. And quite literary too.
The whole issue of looking at a guys ass with admiration in the eyes is as sickening as the thought of Esther Murugi stripping for a party of little midgets sitted on Eugene Wamalwa's nose. To me at least. But just how then did he choose to say he lies in the group of people I screw (or intend to screw) given these circumstamces? Well, its simply because I had tried to corner him by asking him to choose between saying he is in the category of people I'd screw and being dumb. I was pretty sure he'd choose dumb but how wrong I was. I had forgotten his job pits him against people with an uncanny ability to construct the most idiotic questions ever. People whose dumbness is 5.5 on the Murugi scale (where 12.8 murugi=2.1 KBd or Bifwoli dumbness if you like and where K [Kalonzo] is a constant)
You see, this friend of mine works for one of the big mobile phone operators - or for Bob ... the guy who wants you to call more - and his job description is to care for customers. And considering the number of vastly talented idiots in this country of ours, I cannot quite describe how hard his job is.
Anyway, back to the story. I had called him to talk about some beer-shara last night. And after realizing he was shocked that I was calling him past ten, I chose to share with him my rule about making late-night calls.
Let me first state this rule. I only call people I screw (or intend to screw) and idiots. The motive of calling the first group is self explanatory. The second group compromises people who I call because they havent done something they should have, they did something they shouldn't have and so on. And in this case, he hadn't done something he should have done. So when I called him, I shared my rule with him and requested him to choose a category.
To my utter shock (and more so for my poor balls) he choose the category of people I screw (or intend to screw). It took some hesitation yes, but that is ultimately what he opted for. I think having dealt with stupid questions from the local bonoko populace, he could NOT stomach being called an idiot. He would rather have me explore his rear quarters twenty five times gay than be half an idiot. And thank God my phone run out of Bobs at that particular moment and he got disconnected and at least I was guaranteed I wouldnt be calling-more.
So there I was, with a man who had put himself in my to do list and having to watch my balls running away from me. Thats when I realized how much dealing with silly questions every single day makes you hate stupid people so much that you'd rather surrender his toilet apparatus to me. So if you see a pair of balls in a creased-up sack running at lightening speed with a slight limp and screaming ... "Crasy Nairopian is a ticktatooooooor!" ... please let them know I miss them and am not gay.
