So I hear someone’s talking about me. To call him a friend of mine would be a real stretch, but I believe (well, believeD) we had a civil relationship, and I’ve never expected any less than good company and the occasional beer out of it. But no. Black people always have to feck it up.
See, I’ve never CONSCIOUSLY done anything wrong to this chap. In fact, I’d like to think I’ve maintained a healthy enthusiasm not just for his company, but for his conversation and input (like all my other chums). I’ve never dissed him, publicly or no, never showed any hostility (physical or otherwise) and have never actually given him reason to become a hater. I think.
So here’s the thing: if you have anything you wanna say, motherfecker, say it to my face. If you don’t have the balls to do that, I’m sorry for you…I’m 5 ft 5 and weigh 50kg, if you scurred of that you’re a worse pussy than everyone thinks (and yeah, they do). You thought I wouldn’t know you were jawing about me? Vavengi hamudzidze, the same way you’re trying to stab me in the back, people are doing the same to you!
Kana iri nyaya yemukadzi, buda pachena, we can sort it out; I’m a reasonable man. If I’ve genuinely offended you in any way, then I sincerely apologise. But if you’re just tryna pull a brother down, then feck you. I don’t really live my life on other people’s opinions, especially not those of a……..deep breath….*sigh*…..
Actually, there are exactly ten people on Earth whose opinions matter to me. You’re not one of them, so shut the feck up.
NB: this was written when I’d just found out, and in the heat of the moment I forgot that I should be flattered! Keep hatin’ it only makes me smile 🙂