Exotic Female Tennis

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

maria 1
(Excerpts from ‘Sporting Chance’ in ‘Everyone hates the English’)

Vijay had always been quite fond of lawn tennis and he played it sparingly sometimes. Only he was helplessly useless with the racquet in his favorite right hand and even worse with the netted large batting instrument in his naturally less dexterous left hand. His aged tennis instructor would encourage him with poetry.

“I guess if you stick around long enough, nothing ever is but always was.”

Vijay was just horrible with his hands and had always wondered what good is human ingenuity if people had no fingers? Vijay was good with his legs, but then maybe he just had good football instructors and terrible ones for tennis. Vijay never saw the old man win a single game and had since concluded the old man had only managed to be a top seeded player in a grand slam tourney, when the game of tennis was played with eloquent words. But Vijay reserved his fondest interest for female tennis and there were loads of reasons for this. Chief amongst these are firstly, the girls’ rallies lasted longer, making scored points longer in coming. That however is the only technical reason for his preference, though he claims there are other technical reasons, all his other reasons were quite feminine ones. These include the cute umbrella shaped skirts the ladies wore when they played tennis.
mirza 1
As the female tennis server descends from a ballerina toed posture, the lift of her skirt exposes robustly fleshy or firm slim exotic thighs with is swerve, shuffle and swing. This presents the pleasant brief view that makes even keener spectators of most male followers of female tennis. At momentarily inactive rest periods, live spectators get to rest their stiff necks from the prolonged following of the furry small ball across the center net, from player to player. Yet male spectator wolfishly enjoy watching the resting players, sitting in their low stages like actresses, as they mop their skimpy clad bodies with thick towels at some green coloured pool side, seemingly oblivious that they are still a viewing delight for the casual on-lookers.
serena 1

Then there is the buzz of watching the girls stretch out fully to return difficult low line-edged balls, to save a point. The regular flash of their finely tightened buttocks, which is a generous meaty picture beneath those umbrella shaped skirts doing more of a good job in covering their bellies and lower backs than they do anything lower. Vijay’s ultimate high are the moans, groans and shrill screaming, such that with ears plugged, shut eyed or reading an adult magazine as the ladies play, the sound effect would pass for the next door pervert loudly watching X-rated channels. With little imagination, the athleticism of the playing ladies could easily revert to a high stage performance, with handled vertical fixed stainless pole instead of racquets and with half drunk hooting men, swinging crisp money notes at the entertaining girls, encouragingly them to whack some furry balls.

EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH - Small
EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH (LC67V)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011JMAIYA
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/559891
http://authl.it/B011JMAIYA
https://www.createspace.com/5650770
http://okadabooks.com/book/about/9867

RESPONSIBILITY VERSUS AUTHORITY

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

obama marley
It is a rare thing to completely trust and to fully exhibit it too. The gratitude for such rarity is expressed inadequately mostly, but rather hypocritically thanked more than enough with all the words that is said or used. The exhibition of this sort of trust is at best unequalled. It puts the object of it in a serious strait, within the dilemma of trusting fully or just a little bit. Where trust has been clearly replaced with hate there is always a sort of lingering discomfort, ushered into the picture. It is one that cannot be fathomed by the victim until it visibly presents itself as something tangibly painful in the heart of its cruel perpetrators.

The conception of masters is mostly that of people who delight and rejoice in inflicting sufferings on their subordinates, not the chubby homely nurses who aid struggling colleagues in soothing their personal pains. This presumption is mainly based on the view of subordinates, who think all their masters’ hard responsibilities over them, with all the advantages their masters have over them, are not necessary ills, but all just utterly cruel bullying. It is obviously quite a subjective opinion not readily accepted or entertained by the masters’ own similarly bias versions.

Nothing educates a teething subordinate like that age old and seemingly overt situation of pure adversity, which would constantly lord over what it presents itself as. The overlaying setting is meant to be at the verge of a deeply sincere feeling of remorseful envy. The subordinates’ perception is utterly bias, as is their masters’, such that the perpetual atmosphere of quieted distrust soils their separate thoughts of one another. It deepens their knowledge of excusable vulgarities with an awareness that was more harmful to each of them than they realized it is.

Inscrutable old issues are rankled with reluctance to simple acceptance for offered educated civility and modern advancement, which is clearly rejoiced in subsequently.

King of Sports

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

BB-29042012145 (4)

(Excerpts from ‘Sporting Chance’ in ‘Everyone hates the English’)

All sports are really silly juvenile play in a sense. Partakers and spectators alike, love competitive sports because of its semblance of a life of manageable fun and the larger human drama it samples. It is a sequence of testing controlled effort against visible resistance in established circumstances. The thrilling mysteries in the unending sequence of match ups and the unpredictability of the results of all games, adds to the fun. The fun in sports is not suppose to make sense, all kinds of play shouldn’t. Play is fun because it is illogical and only saddists empathize with the naïve old Indian village Chief who thought he had solved a perennial football problem by comically recommending that the twenty two players on the pitch are given a soccer ball each to end their pointless running around like a herd of mad cows.

The purposeful running around is what Vijay loves the most in football. Vijay is crazy about football, considering it the king of sports with the best all round athletes in every regard. He agrees football is indeed a gentleman’s sport, played by hooligans because it teaches manners and tests character. Rugby truly likens the hooligan’s sport, played by gentlemen because it alters character and in its very physical fashion, it emphasizes brute force ahead of skills and intelligence. Golf is a long walk on the grass, cattle do that. Polo is the kings’ sport and only the horses are really skillful. Horse racing is for servants of kings, with the royals ever present to observe their subjects and domain. It is unfair to call horse racing a sport, unfair to plowing bulls and the slaving peasants whipping their beasts into line, without their fellow impoverished brethren betting and cheering in the trees.

379744_239654669530018_1526297228_n
Then there is the similarity of the common footballer to everyone else in the world that wishes to excel in life. Footballers are typical average athletes, they are amongst the world’s most selfish people and their work is just doing yet another of the world’s selfish hypocritical jobs. They are talented and a bio-engineered reality that manifests as a combination of highly skillful performers and acting stunt men. Footballers have to make out they care about the billions of passionate fans who actually do care about them, their physical, emotional and healthy state. At the pinnacle of their careers, footballers are incredibly well paid to do what they would ordinarily do for virtually nothing in return. If they don’t get a penny for doing their jobs, they will still get the same jobs as unpaid players, until they can’t do so.

Like millions of their less fortunate colleagues who don’t get opportunities and fall on the wayside, all footballers still don’t aspire for anything other than a paid job. Vijay always knew he wouldn’t do anything else but play football and when he discovers he finds little fun in playing football then he will get out of it. But the truth is, he wouldn’t truly enjoy doing it if he is not being paid to do it. The thrill of the game is sublime yet as addictive as the gospel to a Jesuit. The referees can go to hell with their calls and the spectators can chew their nails to the quick with tension, but the world of the footballer is his alone, nothing else exists. Families must wait, friends must worship for notice and religion is best handle like underpants, you might have one on or not, it doesn’t matter. Life is the game first.

SPORTS FOR PLAYERS

The Coach isn’t selfless but human too,
He is the person with a plan for everyone.
With abilities as experience all learnt anew;
He is an optimist, patient as sure as the sun.

The Player obeys the norms and urge,
Enjoying the dreamt up living, yet real.
Dancing to all songs with a new surge,
Blinding days are lit with a light to feel.

The Sport is heartless and demanding,
All companies it keeps are envious of it.
Consuming lust filled, never satisfying;
On its sure ride it will keep every bit.

The Game is simple and easy to chase,
Embraced in choices to choose and make.
Stages of gains at every level of the race
Made the whole thing Sports for players’.

EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH - Small
EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011JMAIYA
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/559891
http://authl.it/B011JMAIYA
https://www.createspace.com/5650770
http://okadabooks.com/book/about/9867
the poet in the poet - Copy
The Poet in the Poem
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SLWGOMM
http://authl.it/B00SLWGOMM
https://www.createspace.com/5195332

Forgive and Forget

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Obasanjo
(Excerpts from ‘The Assassination of Obasanjo’ in ‘Everyone hates the English’)

“In the popular quest for change Nigerians were yet again willing to forgive the acts of evil committed against them. With this singular act they simply continued their life long legacy of letting thieves, bullies and killers escape justice for their respective acts of stealing, treason and murders. It is little wonder that the Nigerian nation has repeatedly suffered from these many crimes, when the countless perpetrators are always assured of getting off scot-free.

1JbEdG-SNp-109x109

“Strangely though, of the two acts that starts a revolting sequence of prolonged feud, the most damaging is always the second, not the first. The first starts it off and could as easily end it at that, if the second does not see the need to revenge the damage the first act had started. Second act establishes and revitalizes the sequence when it retaliates.”

EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH - Small
EVERYONE HATES THE ENGLISH
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B011JMAIYA
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/559891
http://authl.it/B011JMAIYA
https://www.createspace.com/5650770
http://okadabooks.com/book/about/9867

Chapter 29: A Flower in the Desert

Great read

Windows by malakhai.jones

deso

Awakening to another day, the Sun beginning its climb high into the heavens with prayers for deliverance.  Fortunate to be alive and still more fortunate to have love in these times.  Glancing over to watch her sleep, fully clothed and carrying all of her earthly possessions, I was amazed to see how peaceful sleep was still a friend to her.  I, on the other hand, watched the night with trip-wire ears and source seeking eyes while conversing with my beliefs for fortification.

She was beautiful; a flower in bloom amidst the harshness that surrounded us.  We’d been together for quite some time, before “the Event.”   The exact amount of time is hard to know, because years are no longer measurable to me.

We would need to get up soon, if we were going to find food and water before making it to the next area to make camp.  Always on…

View original post 510 more words

WORDS ARE WRITERS

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

words
When words are printed, with time they come alive like the people that were characterized in them. Soon they start to speak not like words but like living things that move and sense and feel and have minds and consciences that misrepresent and misinterpret in honest misleading ways too. Time gives words a life of their own, outside the initial reason for them. In well written forms, words become more plausible in the ideology they carry. In a weird manner, words have an uncanny way of making oddities into norms that would be subsequently manifested more in acts than in the people responsible for the actions. Strangely still the words get adored for all of the misrepresentation and the misinterpretations they inspire because they are construed as just words, innocent dangerously harmless words.

Heard James Peterson say he never waited to get published before he called himself a writer and that his first book was rejected by thirty leading publishers before it became a bestseller.

“Writing is a blast, but it’s also work. So forget about waiting for inspiration. Sit your butt in a chair every day and write a set amount of words. In a few months, you’ll have a completed novel. Repeat many times. Eventually, you’ll have a story that could pay the mortgage. If you do this long enough, you might be able to quit your day job.” –Vaughn Heppner, author ofThe Lost Starship

WORDS

O moody this moon,
Shows feelings soon.
Grown off wild oaths,
Filled with only doubts.

Words we will forget,
Said with hopes wet.
Their off springs return
Dry in memories’ sun.

Lost in mazes true,
Laid like brains do.
Words say its much,
Twisted to do such.

Fever: The Coldness of Fever (Book V)
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451306
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YUOYL7K
http://authl.it/B00YUOYL7K
https://www.createspace.com/5195619
fever 5 - Copy
The Poet in the Poem
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SLWGOMM
http://authl.it/B00SLWGOMM
https://www.createspace.com/5195332
the poet in the poet - Copy

FRIENDLY FOES: Another must read

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A World of Sentiments
Friendly Foes

Strangest explosion rocks the Karachi international airport just as a massive deployment of US marines arrived the busy airport. Stories of the victims and their relatives, responders and their purpose, perpetrators and their reasons, unfolds a tale of current resolutions based on old conceptions. The narrative tells of the most diverse colorful global characters surrounded with a good mix of friends and foes.
2014_09_band-of-brothers-53
There is David Holden, the English Doctor who loves humanity more than his origins. His idea of getting use to scarcity in the midst of plenty paid off in his later years as a charitable medical doctor with the United Nations, WHO and Red Cross, while working with refugees all around the world.
GB Flag - Copy
Abdul Kazaar Ali is Doctor Holden’s opportunistic aged patient who lives out his perception of Muslim norms like he desires. In Karachi, bearded old men must daily demand the honourable respect only reserved for them after death. Only the living can tell the honour bestowed on them and the dead, the judgment they spent a life-time waiting for. Abdul Kazzar wanted his reward on earth and his son; Umar Ali, held much promise after he ran off to England and started working in London to learn the lucrative wisdom of the English.

Aaamu and her mother Rael are Kenyans with Somalian origins. They live by their wits as their circumstances allow. Ladies always come first in typical English fashion and Rael Amu is obsessed with being first but there are very few things in which a young Muslim maiden gets to be first in. Rael passed on her obsession to her daughter and gave her all the tools she needs to be first.

Then there is Fatima, who is smart enough to outwit her sexuality but too human to resist normalcy. From a tender age Fatima figured out that she only got a better deal when she isn’t identified as Arab or Muslim. In America the distinction between the two is inconsequential. Fatima only had to behave ideally in the care of her uncle, Suleiman.

Suleiman’s wife is a delightful gentle half-literate girl named Khadija. She is younger than Fatima and imported from Yemen especially for marriage. Khadija came to Suleiman untarnished by western ways and speaking some English, just enough. Partially caged-in, according to Suleiman’s mildly liberal interpretations of Islamic rites, who ensured Khadija isn’t more exposed than her elbows. But Khadija discovered a lot more than Suleiman cared for.

Ruth is the young Israeli genius whose Jewish father; Avi Jonah, gave her a lot more than just his name. She was born in Tel Aviv and grew up there into a strong healthy industrious lady. Ruth had a pleasant childhood, unlike her controvertial nation’s. All through history every true super power took its turn in bullying the proud Jews.
Peace
Avi Jonah is more Hebrew than he is Jewish, that comes across in his lessons to Ruth and her siblings. It is the Hebrews forte to be proficient in history and like everybody else, their history is always opinionated.

Lee is Ruth’s Chinese boyfriend and school-mate in London, who is trying out his fantasies alongside his opinions. Lee didn’t talk much and hated talking about himself to anyone, Ruth was the only exception. Lee spent most of his leisure time, while growing up in main land China, learning what most enlightened minds in the world had to say about things. His brilliant mind was full of information about diverse cultures from every part of the world.

Professor Henry Benjamin is Lee’s octogenarian landlord, a world renown, multiple award winning, retired academician with many reputable publications to his credit. The steady presence of Lee and his equally excellent girlfriend was a big plus for the aged man with a very weak heart.

Then there is Sean Samuel, the Irish-American reporter with a huge reputation he constantly seeks to live up to, like his proud American nation. Sean wasn’t ever much of a fighter, with his uncles’ tough reputation he never had cause to prove he is a descendant of an Irish gangster from Dublin who migrated to New York city to continue being a crook.

A MUST READ

FRIENDLY FOES
Friendly Foes - Copy
A World of Sentiments
https://www.createspace.com/6131298
http://authl.it/B01CUVBCSU
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CUVBCSU

MARRIED MEN FOR SINGLE GIRLS

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Toilet visits can take a while when all your craps are like concrete...

Toilet visits can take a while when all your craps are like concrete…

To some young single girl, married men are ever comfortably understandable, matured and polite in their fair and unforced disposition. However the wanton desires of these young girls never warns them that the intentions of these much older men does not always look as fair as they are always pretentiously justified to be, in their deceptively natured maturity. The woman’s all-embracing monstrous natural need to be overwhelmed by a man, who aim to get the better of her, justifies her consanguineous attachment to her eternal older brother, the man.

The honourable older married man always has the most desire to be secretive in such relationships. While the younger single girl would likely show some pride in her bigger achievement, the setting would hurt him with an odd sort of feeling afresh with old emotions of being an unworthy person. His older and more honourable world would notice his failures, even if it identifies with his expression of it. When he is certainly found out and has to confront his critics, the older married man could simply hold his head high and be proud of his shameful freedom while the world he has conditioned will fall silent snugly, presumable out of interfering in his business, as the public end up secretly more embarrassed than he ought to be.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

These intimate songs we sing
Blend aged dreams into a ring
That weds our gendered stew
In matrimonial oneness not new.

the poet in the poet - Copy
The Poet in the Poem
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SLWGOMM
http://authl.it/B00SLWGOMM
https://www.createspace.com/5195332

Beholding The Sun Over Fugees

Brightly put

HD Prose

Sun-Ra got its fix,

A stick, not so long ago, a snake;

O, the sea imbibed its fire.

The sun, almost not, in Munster,

Man crusaded its rays,

O, the sun-shined not.

Sunrays, by a hair, on its empire,

London plumped under mist,

O, the mist imbibed its rays.

Kaiser Wilhelm too –

Fancied his place under the sun,

O, but the sun not.

This sun over the Fugees isn’t as bright,

As the sun behind;

O, the snow imbibed its rays.

This sun will not reveal,

A titillating wish,

O, what a kinky truth.

© Diabel Faye, Berlin subways, 09/02/2016

Fugees = refugees

View original post

COMPLEX COMPLEXITIES

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

selfies
The simple people are always confronted by the complex ones, who always seeks to tint their simplicity and make it more complicated. It is a tough struggle to remain simple, surrounded by a world of complexities. Personal lives have gone beyond live and breed.

Daila Lama
Man works to walk, not walk to work and he inevitably strives to out-walk the next man and the next, again and again.

And in all life, the most shaded lot are the people

THE COLOURED SHEEP

Bah, bah black sheep, they always point you;
Wolf in your clothing or something ever new.

Rainbow and gold pot in your closet is true,
If you’re concerned, skies aren’t ever blue.

The skeletons you cupboard are there for show,
Honeycombed for Bees, your Bearness will shoo!

the poet in the poet - Copy

The Poet in the Poem
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00SLWGOMM
http://authl.it/B00SLWGOMM
https://www.createspace.com/5195332

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 15,886 other followers