jihad

jihad!!

Crazy crazy
i have been to war with these nut cases
even when i was one of those adrenaline junky cases
and the story goes,
this girl that i have seen… do i elect anyone normal?
anyways after i said,
your a nutcase if you threaten me with death
i just hold my breath
and…. not really,
so this little bitch actually got hold of the marrocans
which in my town are quite a few and they seem to know where i live
so that is a gift, and the she called them, is quite normal right
the little punk ass bitch know them, and after i can’t even count the times
she called me since i don’ t answer it but it is there guarded on my cellphone
she calls and 10 minutes latter a freaking Moroccan kid comes and ring my house…
first thing as i open the door since i knew it was nothing new in terms of
well being, he tells me if i was afraid….the little punk,
you got the wrong guy, have been as you know in two wars fighting these
idiots, so i tell him very nicely to please come in to my room,
so he can see what i have, it didn’t bother me one half,
eventually he did say the truth and this bitch is actually calling these guys
to threaten me…..or scarey me, which in my case.
that is the last line you cross
either him or me will end up in a cross,
fucking manipulative bitch
so why do i get with this kind of people?
and really is my fault for doing so, I know.

P.S read ya tomorrow, trying to read all, since you are all great writers.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

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Crazy Jihad kid

The other day I stumbled upon an old friend while walking trough town,
it was a warm day, and I had no problem to chit chat anyway.
Now he´s married,I told him that I was sorry for him that if he wanted
me to get him buried. I suddenly look down, and what do I encounter in
downtown, twins! And me hoping they could grow wings and fly over the sky.
He told me they were a surprise, he wasn´t too thrill about it since he
already has another kid. The whole conversation turned into a comedy skid.
He now has to work two jobs to support these two little monsters, but the worst
was to come, and I didn´t know to stay in place or be gone.

“So you haven´t met the jihadist?” He asks.

I´m looking at him as if he has gone off the rockers with so many unexpected kids.

“No, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Just wait he´s coming now.”

We keep with chit and chat, we have a little wine that really tasted like a rat
( I know how they taste, long story but don´t worry).

10 minutes later comes a blond, brown eyes little angel with the mother, which I knew from
the old times of my days when we were kids and played or destroyed, terrifying the towns
since we were a bunch of clowns.

So I look at this little angel, he´s 3 years old.
I was gonna give him the high five and….smack! And one of my testicles I think
got a crack.

My friend laughs, the mother laughs,she was hotter in the old days, how did those two end up
together….must have been the bad weather.

So I´m standing in the middle of the sidewalk holding my genitalia, and the damn
kid laughing at my agonising.

“This jihadist does it all the time, and we don´t know why.” My friend tells me.

Conclusion, I´m not going back downtown when jihad kid is around.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.