We are a third world country…so we all have that friend from the village. The one who mixes up l’s and r’s, pokes their nose, can’t use cutlery and can’t seem to sit still around shinny silverware. If, God-forbid, no name has come to mind MY FRIEND, then you are the friend from the village. Nothing to be ashamed of…we’ve all had our village moment. NAT. Of course if you are from the village then the ‘NAT’ was lost on you.
Anyway, one of the major challenges of being the friend from the village, I imagine, is that no one tells you how things in town work. No one is kind enough to sit you down and give you ‘the talk’. Luckily for you, I haven’t lost the soft, mushy, teary side of me yet. Friend from the village, here is how things in town work.
This is like water from the well, only that it comes to you. Imagine a well which you don’t have to go to…it comes to you! I know, neat uh? Only thing is, when done using it, you actually have to switch off the well. I know, weird! Tell me about it…anyway, so yeah, you use the well and then switch it off…and then walk away. You can’t stay there staring at it
There’s this pretty neat thing that you press squiggly buttons on and voila, you see people doing all sorts of things! And I mean all…sorts…of…things (slow heavy wink). Pressing buttons is easy…picture yourself using your thumb to annihilate an overfed termite. So you press and suddenly you see small people inside it jumping around, and making noises like “…andutttuuuuuu…”
You’ll be shocked at first but trust me, when that wears off, you’ll be an addict. Now here’s the neat part…how do those people get in there? Well when people get to a certain age and feel they are ready, they go to China. There, they are fed a certain medicine and voila, they reduce to a certain height and can fit in your TV comfortable without fidgeting.
Here in town, we don’t use hoes to get food…or whores for that matter. Ahhaha, I just made a joke. Ah my bad, forgot you wouldn’t get it. Ok, so here, we walk into places and pick the food off shelves and then pay for it…or pick it off the shelves and if no one notices, leave with it, promising yourself that you’ll return to pay when you have the money to pay for it.
Here we don’t say ‘Herro, youaro burriful. Cum n wigo and you produce forr me samo beibes’ to a pretty girl as soon as we meet her. See here for tips.