Tag Archives: French

Stephen Chukumba says: “Keep Your Crap Off My Lawn You Nasty M*th@F*ck!#”

Why do (some) people who own dogs fail to clean up after them when they poop on other people’s lawns? I mean really, is it that hard to scoop up a little sh*t when your dog has finished it’s business?

Keep your crapper off my lawn!

Keep your crapper off my lawn!

I don’t own a dog, but far too often I find dog poops on my lawn. I mean, WTF? Why am I bending down to scoop up the sh*t of a dog that I don’t own?

I’ve got kids for chrissakes! One day they’re gonna step in some dog doo and come tracking it into the house. Eeeeewwwww!

If I wanted to clean up dog sh*t, I would own a dog. But I don’t, so why am I cleaning up after someone else’s dog? More importantly, why is some nasty muthaf*cker letting their f*cking dog crap on my lawn?

I think the offending sh*t-leaver is this French woman who lives around the corner from me. She has a big ole dog, and I never see her with baggies-EVER.

She’s always jogging down the block (presumably away from the dump her dog just took), and although I’ve never seen her dog foul my lawn, I’m almost positive it’s her.

It would be like the French not to clean up their dogs. When I was in Cannes a few years ago, I saw all these ‘Please clean up after your dog’ signs (in French) all over the city. And I thought, ‘hmm.’

In hindsight, they probably put these signs up to get those nasty muthaf*ckers to keep all the dog sh*t from fouling that beautiful city.

But it also meant that at some point dog owners probably weren’t cleaning up after their sh*tty dogs, and had to take drastic steps to ensure compliance. These signs were literally everywhere.

I’m thinking about putting up one of those signs up on my lawn. Or perhaps I should sprinkle some anti-dog pellets.

Maybe I should just go and take a healthy dump on the alleged offender’s lawn.

That’ll learn her, nasty m*th@f*ck!#.

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Balling South African style

 

This is South Africa

This is South Africa

Today is my last day in South Africa, and all I can say is I can’t wait to come back here. South Africa exceeded my wildest expectations, and it gave me an appreciation for Africa that I didn’t formerly possess.

I’ve never really quite understood the appeal of South Africa. I mean, this was the home of apartheid, right?  Yeah, yeah, yeah, Nelson Mandela is all that, but what’s all the hype about?

Being Nigerian, my thinking has always been, if you’ve been to one African country, you’ve been to them all. Seriously, I’ve been to Senegal, the Ivory Coast and Nigeria. Outside of the fact that they speak French in Senegal and Cote d’Ivoire, in my opinion, they were facsimiles of one another.

So, I was pleasantly surprised to learn that South Africa is BALLING!!!!!!!!!! When I say balling, I mean balling. The hotels here put places like the Ritz Calrton, the W, and the Waldorff Astoria, to shame. I was staying at the HOLIDAY INN and I was balling! 

The food, excellent. The people, excellent. The weather, excellent. The hotel, excellent. Everything was simply excellent.

I could go on and on, but I’ve got to hit the streets before my flight. Rest assured that I will post a detailed blow-by-blow upon my return (when I stop balling and return to the pedestrian life I ordinarily lead) and reminisce.

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