Friday, 3 December 2010

In da mosk

I like my life,  it's kinda kewl. I know they are not too happy down at the mosk about my cloves but I dont wear dem to da church. Owevva I do get to wear dis masiff night shirt. So is like gowin out in ya PJ's init.

Dere aint nuffink in da rewls dat sez ya carnt wear wot ya like slong as ya dont shew ya todger to ovva matey peeps. Dats like werse dan shewin it to lady peeps, go figa dat out. I mean ya carnt shew ya todger to lady peeps but if ya cood then it wooden be as werse dan shewin it to da matey peeps. no wot I meen?

But n e wey dere i am at da mosk in dis nite shirt. I fink I aint de ownly wun dat dont wear nuffink under it. ya no like those scotch men in dere kilts. Coz wen we bend to pray I ca smell a lotta arse an let me tewl u it anit nice.

Wen I leeve da mosk I feil gud. coz me todger is flapin in da wind under dat niteshirt. But I cant wait to get to my pad an get into my kewl geer. Den I cn go out netwerkin an stuff. U shud be grate full for dat coz I cant carri n e  bombs or nuffink in dem shorts. Wot an spoil a perfetly gud pair of Dolce an Cabanas. I don't fink so.

Ciao Matey Peeps

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