My life right now is like a movie; I won't change in for the world. I once had this friend who said to me that the closest his parent came to telling him about "the facts of life" was to say to him that, when he was with his girlfriend, not to leave maps of India on the sheets. I found that hilarious! I guess you don't always get the information you need to know from the people you trust the most.
Take last week for instance: I had the best week and the most peculiar. "Dexter" has gone down in history with me as one of the very best TV programmes ever and I shall miss it till the next season. The final episode in the series sent my heart aflutter with screams of "bravo!", "bravo!". Not to mention that my brain was twisting in and out doing somersaults. It's a programme full of immense suspense, honesty and the most incredible characters - everyone in it is flawed. But the way these elements are put together conjours up the most riveting viewing I've ever had in years. James Doakes is one of my favourites: brooding, sullen, creepy and machismo. You would think he uses "testosterone" as an aftershave. To see him stripped of his bravado and swagger, was a sight to behold.
Then there was the incident with the South Africans! There I was yesterday, in the middle of watching "America This Week" when I heard the sound of car doors slamming. Apparently, some South Africans had camped outside our door, conversing loudly in their language. There were about seven of them in two cars, which were side by side blocking the road, facing my direct view. When I opened the door to find out what was going on, they saw me and switched to speaking English. I just stood at the door watching them, as I was baffled to say the least. I recognised the accent because in the early 90s, I was constantly running into South Africans, in fact I couldn't get away from them - they were literally everywhere (I must mention at this point that I love South Africans). Whether it was at work or study, sooner or later laud-and-behold, a South African or Nigerian would turn up on the same course or place of employment. How do they do that?
Anyway (I digress), one of the party advised me to go back indoors and when I wouldn't, he suddenly became abusive: he accused me of trying to act "white" (whatever that means), called me "gay", and told me not to forget where I came from (something I thought was a bit presumptuous of him). I just stood there completely silent asking myself: "where do they find these people?" When they realised I wouldn't stop gawking at them, they started their cars and moved on. It was amazing!
Take last week for instance: I had the best week and the most peculiar. "Dexter" has gone down in history with me as one of the very best TV programmes ever and I shall miss it till the next season. The final episode in the series sent my heart aflutter with screams of "bravo!", "bravo!". Not to mention that my brain was twisting in and out doing somersaults. It's a programme full of immense suspense, honesty and the most incredible characters - everyone in it is flawed. But the way these elements are put together conjours up the most riveting viewing I've ever had in years. James Doakes is one of my favourites: brooding, sullen, creepy and machismo. You would think he uses "testosterone" as an aftershave. To see him stripped of his bravado and swagger, was a sight to behold.
Then there was the incident with the South Africans! There I was yesterday, in the middle of watching "America This Week" when I heard the sound of car doors slamming. Apparently, some South Africans had camped outside our door, conversing loudly in their language. There were about seven of them in two cars, which were side by side blocking the road, facing my direct view. When I opened the door to find out what was going on, they saw me and switched to speaking English. I just stood at the door watching them, as I was baffled to say the least. I recognised the accent because in the early 90s, I was constantly running into South Africans, in fact I couldn't get away from them - they were literally everywhere (I must mention at this point that I love South Africans). Whether it was at work or study, sooner or later laud-and-behold, a South African or Nigerian would turn up on the same course or place of employment. How do they do that?
Anyway (I digress), one of the party advised me to go back indoors and when I wouldn't, he suddenly became abusive: he accused me of trying to act "white" (whatever that means), called me "gay", and told me not to forget where I came from (something I thought was a bit presumptuous of him). I just stood there completely silent asking myself: "where do they find these people?" When they realised I wouldn't stop gawking at them, they started their cars and moved on. It was amazing!
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